BLOOD HUNGRY by Marie Treanor

BLOOD HUNGRY by Marie Treanor 

Blood Hunters, 6

A love doomed by time...

Tough young ex-soldier, John Ramsay is in Amsterdam with his posse of vampire hunters, investigating the bizarre nightly battles between local vampires and skinheads, when he finds himself transported from his hotel bed to a strange, sleazy nightclub. There, he encounters a dangerous, beautiful young woman who stakes and seduces with equal style. Although he knows nothing about her, she appears to know everything about him.

Eva's Amsterdam assignation has gone horribly wrong. The vampire lover who once drank her blood, is dead. Grieving, frustrated, full of hunger she can never assuage, she's looking for trouble when she finds John Ramsay, the reason she can never truly fall in love with anyone else. Now, at last, she wins his attention and his love - a happiness she's doomed to lose, for tangled with John's mystery of a spontaneous world-wide epidemic of skinhead fights, are events twenty years in the future that will threaten the fragile peace between vampires and humans.

John and Eva work together to prevent a disaster spanning two decades. But destiny seems determined to keep them tragically apart...

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~Excerpt~

She seemed to hesitate, then set down her glass again. “There were too many of them. Without you, I’d have been in trouble.” The smile flickered once more, and he wanted very badly to kiss her lips. “You’re good, aren’t you?”

He shrugged. “Practice.”

“In the army? Or vampire hunting?”

He raised one eyebrow. “Drinking in Glasgow on a Friday night.” It was his standard response when he wanted to evade awkward questions, and it usually got a laugh. “Why do you want to dance with me?”

“I’ve always wanted to dance with you.” Her dark eyes were only half-mocking. Behind that, he caught again that tinge of fear and something very like a plea. It was the plea that won. Or perhaps his own desires.

He stood up, offering his hand. “Why?” he asked again.

She gazed at his fingers, another smile hovering on her lips before she took his hand and slid off her stool. She raised her eyes to his. “I can’t tell you that yet.”

“Well,” he murmured, leading her onto the dance floor. “What can you tell me?”

“What do you want to know?”

He slid his good arm around her waist, and this time there was no rigidity in her. She relaxed into his hold, draping her own arm around his neck.

“For starters,” he said, “where the hell are we?”

A hiss of laughter escaped her lips. “That’s why I like you, John Ramsay. You don’t say much, but when you do, it’s totally honest. We’re in a nightclub that doesn’t even have a name, in the middle of Amsterdam’s old red-light district. Why? Where are you supposed to be?”

So she got that much. She did know more than he did about the dreams.

“In Amsterdam,” he admitted. “In my hotel room across the city.” Waiting for another woman, he recalled. For the first time, he really hoped Sarah wouldn’t knock on his door. This woman, who wasn’t called Kate, laid her head against his shoulder, and he inhaled the exotic scent of her perfume, heady and yet light. Maybe it wasn’t even perfume. It could simply have been her skin. Whatever, it coiled around his senses, feeding his desire.

The music was awful, jerky and loud and almost entirely without melody. John didn’t care. He could ignore the music and just hold her soft, yielding body in his arms. Not so soft, he remembered, when she was knocking lumps out of men—and vampires—about twice her size. Nor would he be the first man seduced by a sexy body and a self-satisfied belief that a dangerous woman was “different” with him.

The hand not around his neck lay flat against his chest. Slowly, she began to move it upward to his shoulder and then down over the stump of his left arm and the prosthetic below.

This was the moment relationships tended to break, in his head, at least. For the first time ever, he didn’t want to see a girl’s reaction. He’d have closed his eyes to avoid this one. He didn’t need to, since all he could see was the top of her head. But there was no stiffening in his arms, no hasty removal of her exploring hand. Instead, she ran her fingers up and down his arm several times before coming to rest on his shoulder.

“It doesn’t bother you,” he murmured into her hair.

She shook her head. He had the unexpected notion she was smiling. “I find it—comforting.”

“That’s different,” he observed, tightening his arm around her. He brought up his other arm too, holding her in both, and she lifted her head to smile at him, a sensual, siren’s smile. Too confident in her own undoubted powers of seduction. Deliberately, he lowered his hands to reach the first swell of her bottom and pressed her closer into his straining erection.

He caught her gasp, saw the heat flood her face, and knew with fierce triumph that he wasn’t the only one being seduced. In fact, it was time, more than time, to change leaders. He moved his hips, swaying, rubbing, and lowered his head.

Her eyes melted. As her lips parted for him, they trembled, until he covered them with his and kissed her.

Her eyes fluttered shut, her fingers closed on his neck almost painfully, and then clung. Her mouth opened at the first pressure of his, but oddly, hers was no siren’s kiss after all. It was almost…virginal. She tasted divine, her mouth soft and warm and yielding as she clung to his lips.

He released her lips slowly, reluctantly, and only to draw breath before he went back for more. He’d expected passion from this woman, but not that sweetness, and he was enchanted.

“So that’s how John Ramsay kisses,” she whispered.

He smiled. “Let me count the ways,” he said and sank his mouth back into hers. This time, she met his tongue with her own, sliding, caressing, and suddenly she kissed him back, not with that almost shy, wondering response but with fierce, demanding sensuality, and John was lost.

He caressed her hips, holding her firmly to him, drawing her up on tiptoe so that he could fit his straining erection between her thighs. She gasped, sliding her fingers into his hair, bunching the back of his shirt in her fist.

“You would make love with me,” he said against her lips.

Laughter trembled in her throat. “Of course I bloody would.”

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DARK SHADOW by LaVerne Thompson

DARK SHADOW by LaVerne Thompson

The Hidden Series

Did you really think you’d live forever?

She never planned on dying at eighteen, much less awakening to live in the world as a creature of the night. Still, Noel doesn’t complain. She embraces who she’s become, even through the dark loneliness she feels at times.

Have you ever had dreams so alluring you couldn’t get them out of your mind?

Jett knows they're only dreams, but they feel real to the point that he closes his eyes during the day just to embrace them again. No matter the danger to his soul if such a beautiful nightmare does exist. It goes by the sweet name Noel.

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~Excerpt~

“Run,” he managed to croak out. “Get out of here before they come back.” God the last thing he wanted for her to be attacked by those vampires or whatever the hell they were.

Jett forced himself off the wall and reached for her hand. “Come on, we have to get out of here.” But with his first step away from the wall his head swam, weakened from blood loss, he fell on his knees to the ground. She still held his hand as she leaned over him. For such a tiny thing, her grip felt incredibly strong or he was just that weak, he suspected the latter.

He sat back on his haunches; his head too heavy to remain upright but through sheer will power he looked up at her. Breathing heavily he whispered, “Run. Leave me. Please.”

She smiled. He felt himself dying in that dark dirty alley yet her smile made it seem as though he’d gotten a glimpse of heaven. She raised her hand and touched his forehead. The burning sensation disappeared but he still had no strength. It seeped out along with his blood, running down the sides of his neck and wrist. Jett couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. But he managed to tell his angel, for with the bright light shining from her beautiful golden eyes, surely that’s what she had to be.

“Run.”

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DEAD SANTA by Lizzie T. Leaf

DEAD SANTA by Lizzie T. Leaf

The bat bite received when making Christmas Eve deliveries changed Santa. His life and the holiday he loves may never be the same.

Exhausted after his Christmas Eve deliveries, Santa wakes up with hungers he finds hard to control. A bat did fall out of a tree and take a bite out of him when it landed on his neck, but why would that make him lust for blood and sex?

Tired and sore from her husband’s insatiable desire for her body, Mrs. Claus can’t take it any longer. There is only one thing to do—leave this sex manic that has replaced her gentle husband. His new lust for raw meat is bad enough, but his out of control sex drive has her tired and sore and in need of a break. Venturing into the mortal world to stay with their son, she finds a job with an unusual family that sheds light on her husband’s issues.

Shocked at his wife’s departure, Santa is sure he knows why she left and must find a way to control his overheated libido, and his thirst for blood. His head elf learns of the existence a vampire king, sending him into the mortal realm. In his meeting with Daniel, the vampire king, Santa learns of issues far more dangerous than his.

Will what happened to Santa be the break the vampire king needs to stop a drug war that will turn Los Angeles into the drug capitol of the world?

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~Excerpt~

Honey, why don’t you come to bed?”

Lost in concern over how long Santa had been sleeping, Merri gasped and whirled around. The sight of her nude husband holding his erect cock took her breath away. This wasn’t the right day for sex, so what was going on? “It’s not New Years, dear. Are you sure?”

Did he just leer at me? Oh, my stars, I hope so. He’s shaved already too. Another thing that he only does once a year. And he’s Kris.

Tossing the dishtowel on the counter, she sauntered toward the man who stole hear heart over a century ago. Those were the days before the dashing Kris Kringle took over the reins of Santa Claus from his father and magic created the illusion of the portly elf to the mortal children. Never to her though. She usually chose to look past the glamour and hoped he did too. When they made love, they each let the glamour go and became their true selves. The man standing in the doorway was her husband, not the provider of Christmas joy.

Hips swaying, Merri sashayed her way to her him. “Looks like three days of sleep were exactly what you needed.” She rubbed her hand across Kris’s smooth cheeks and smiled, pressing her curves up against him. Yes, the facial hair would grow back, but without his glamour to create an illusion, the growth would come in golden sprinkled with a little gray, not the long white, flowing beard featured in the pictures mortals drew.

She shuddered at the memory of a picture taken of her when she attended a party with her husband in the mortal world. Thanks to the magic forms they assumed, humans or cameras couldn’t penetrate their glamour. The picture that a zealous photographer snapped made her appear to be a short, plump little woman with gray hair.

Nothing could be further from the truth. She wasn’t short, more average height. And yes, her dark hair had streaks of silver, but her body was far from plump. The curves she had as a young girl were still there. All the walks in the frigid Artic air kept her firm and supple.

Merri’s knees weakened when her husband captured her mouth with his. The trail of his warm lips along her jawline stoked the embers of a fire she’d tried to ignore over the past year.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes.” He pushed her toward the bed, untying her apron then moved his hands upward to unfasten the buttons on the back of her dress.

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SELECTED LOVERS by Zenobia Renquist

SELECTED LOVERS by Zenobia Renquist

Caveat Emptor 7.5 - spin-off


Love, like peace, is never easy where two men are concerned.

The war is over, and now it’s time to rebuild. Rhea has been chosen at random to sit on a joint council to help decide future relations between mages, vampires, and humans. Jeremy and Colm are appointed her guards. What should have been a simple escort assignment becomes so much more when a spell meant to kill ignites a passionate encounter with Rhea caught in the middle.

Haunted by her desires and craving another threesome, Rhea knows it can't happen. Jeremy is a mage. Colm is a vampire. The men tolerate each other because they’re under orders to cooperate. Without another spell to force them, they would never agree to sharing Rhea again. She has to choose -- the mage with a satisfying kiss or the vampire with a passionate bite…or maybe the third option she hasn’t yet considered.

Caveat Emptor -- Let the Buyer Beware.

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Selected Lovers (Caveat Emptor 7.5)
Zenobia Renquist
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2013 Zenobia Renquist

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

Rhea shoved her car door open, grumbling and cursing under her breath. Mondays belonged in the eighth circle of Hell along with the rest of the frauds. It wasn't a real day. It was Hell visited upon Earth in the guise of a real day. That had to be the case because no one should have to endure the amount of shit she had without divine punishment being involved.

A computer crash that ate all her work, missed deadlines that had popped up at the last minute, the wrong presentation for an important client, and to top it all off, being rear-ended while trying to merge in a construction zone. Thankfully the collision had been at a slow speed and hadn't caused any damage. Rhea rubbed at the pinch in her neck that she hoped was stress and not symptomatic of a bigger problem. She'd been too pissed off to get the insurance information of the woman who'd hit her.

All Rhea wanted was a hot bath and alone time. Lots and lots of alone time where she pretended the world outside her bathroom didn't exist. She didn't even have the mental energy to lie to herself about everything being better tomorrow.

Monday -- fraud -- eighth circle of Hell. That was all there was to it. She would be raised up from Hell as soon as she baptized herself with lavender-scented bubbles and a bottle of peach rum. She was still debating whether she would drink the entire bottle or two-thirds of it.

She kicked her car door shut and headed for her apartment. Two steps from the porch she stopped. "Fucking hell!"

A little yellow notice was taped below the peephole. The words "Delinquent Payment Notice" mocked her in giant bold lettering. Delinquent payment her ass. She paid her rent the first day of the month, every month.

She snatched the letter off the door and read it quickly. "What do they mean 'check not received?' I have a fucking receipt." She yanked her phone off her hip and pushed the power button. It was past closing time for the front office. Of course. With the day she'd been having, why would the office still be open?

She would have to call in late tomorrow so she could meet the apartment manager nice and early with receipt in hand so she could clear up this matter. Something told her waiting until after work might mean she would come home to all her stuff on the front lawn.

"Rhea Valern?"

"What?" She barked the question before turning to see who had asked. She didn't care who it was. She'd had enough. No more bad news. If one more person did one more thing to her, she would lose her mind and kill everyone in a one-mile radius, so help her God.

Two men stood behind her. Both were the same height, which was several inches taller than her, and both had an imposing vibe. The man on the left wore mage robes that cloaked his body from his wide shoulders to the ground. His light brown hair was pulled into a ponytail, leaving his chiseled, clean-shaven features free to be gazed upon... and Rhea was gazing. If he was her reward for putting up with her crappy day, she gladly accepted.

The man next to the mage, who wore tight blue jeans and a half-open button-up shirt that showed his sculpted chest, was just as yummy-looking. His blond hair was cropped short and styled into a mussed-up do that looked too purposefully mussed to be anything but intentional. Light-colored stubble graced his cheeks and chin, giving him a rugged look that appealed to her. His shoulders weren't as broad as his friend's, but that didn't make him any less attractive. And then he smiled. His fangs ruined it for her.

A vampire. Not good.

Vampires didn't frequent human-populated areas, not since the docility charms had failed, and the freed vampires had fled back to their own territory after massacring their former masters. A vampire in the company of a mage had to mean bad news -- extremely bad news of which Rhea wanted no part.

The mage said, "Rhea Valern, we have come to --"

"Not interested. I've never bought a vampire before or even stepped into a store where they were sold. I'm not a mage potential. You've got the wrong girl. Go away." She turned back to her door with her key in hand to unlock her door and make a quick escape into her apartment. If the men persisted, she would call the cops. Human cops wouldn't be of much help, but there were a few mages who volunteered to handle situations like this.

"You don't understand."

"And I don't want to. Bye now." She pushed her door open, took one step and then screamed as the floor disappeared beneath her feet. Not just the floor -- the entire inside of her apartment was a void of black nothingness.

Strong arms grabbed her from behind and pulled her back, except the void started pulling her too. She screamed again. The darkness had hold of her purse and was climbing up it like a snake winding around a branch. She couldn't open her hand to drop the strap. The darkness touched her fingers and freezing pain ripped another scream from her lips.

The man holding her yelled, "Stop standing there like a dumbass and do something, mage. This is your people's shit."

"Shut up, vampire. I know my job." The mage mumbled words Rhea didn't catch. It sounded like an incantation. That was good, right? A spell would end this, right?

The void yanked her into the apartment by her arm, causing her vampire savior -- she hoped he was saving her -- to hug her waist tight as he leaned back.

"Strong fuckers. Any time, mage." He huffed against her neck and made grunting noises that said he was straining. A vampire straining? They could juggle small cars with no effort. If he was exerting that much force, Rhea's arm should have been ripped off in the tug-of-war.

Except for where the darkness touched her, she wasn't in pain. Her arm was stretched to the maximum, but it didn't hurt. A slow glow crept over her shoulder and dripped down her arm like water. It touched the darkness and the darkness... screamed? Could darkness scream?

Whatever. It didn't matter. The darkness was letting her go. Rhea jerked on her arm to hurry along the process. The glow surrounded her arm, pushing the darkness back until it released her completely.

She fell back with a yelp, landing on the vampire as they toppled to the ground.

The mage rushed by them and pulled the door shut. He chanted a few more words as he stepped back slowly. The door glowed, and white script in a language Rhea didn't recognize appeared below the peephole.

"There. I've sealed it until someone else can be summoned to close that portal properly." The mage turned to her. "Now may I tell you why we're here?"

Rhea nodded with a hard sigh. The motion pushed her breasts into the hands of the vampire. In all the confusion, she hadn't realized where he was holding her.

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DARK MIST by Fantasia Virtuoso

DARK MIST by Fantasia Virtuoso

The Hidden Book One

For over a thousand years, Deacon has led his vampire brethren to live in peace amongst humans. But that was before he entered the dreams of the beautiful Rose, hungering desperately for that which he could not claim because the very laws he had set forbade it. Laws that meant certain death for the Hydden should they be broken...laws that Deacon himself might just shatter for a tiny little human.

Skirting the razors edge of lunacy because he hungered for her blood, can he ever possess the unattainable while still protecting himself from someone close by who seeks to destroy him? Or will Rose mourn the promise of an eternal forever if Deacon brings about his own death?

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~Excerpt~

The mist slipped through the open third floor window of Hydden Enterprises, slithered under the heavy drapes and across the carpet until it came to a stop in the center of Deacon’s office. From the mist emerged Deacon primped in a dark gray herringbone single breasted suit, light blue ainsley collar herringbone dress shirt with a medium gray pin dot silk tie and a pair of black oxfords. No lights were on in the room, but since he could see perfectly in the dark it didn’t prove a hindrance. Deacon strolled over to his desk and pressed the two-way intercom button without willing any artificial lights on.

“Anna, would you please let Ms. De La Cruz in as soon as she arrives.” He raised his head and scented the air, he could already sense her in the building.

Deacon released the intercom after Anna’s acknowledgment of his instructions and walked toward the antique brass nail head accented, barolo colored, roll arm leather sofa positioned in the far corner. Dropping onto one of the end cushions Deacon sat back comfortably letting the shadows embrace him as he wondered how Rose would react to their ‘official’ first meeting. Deacon possessed the ability of compulsion and had tried to manipulate Rose’s thoughts the night before, enough for her to believe what they shared was still yet another dream but he lacked the ability to read her mind. So he was unsure if she continued to believe what they’d shared was a dream or not. She would learn the truth soon enough. Although she was now bound to him through blood, he didn’t want her under his compulsion. He wanted her to truly want him, like she wanted him last night. For the first time in a thousand years, he was unsure about a woman.

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HIS SOUL TO KEEP by Luxie Ryder

HIS SOUL TO KEEP by Luxie Ryder

Malachi Bane had been condemned to live forever without the woman he would love until the day he died. He waits out eternity in isolation, on a small island near Maine. When a visiting couple threatens his peaceful existence, Bane prepares to kill them but is compelled to save the life of the woman he has become strangely fascinated with.

Amber Kirkwood isn't impressed by Bane's macho attitude and has no idea how her rescue from the island will set off a chain of events she has no control over or desire to be a part of.

When the physical and emotional bonds begin to grow between the unlikely couple, Bane longs to 'change' Amber, in order to save her life and keep her with him forever. But she fears for her immortal soul and Amber can't be sure that what she feels for Bane truly is worth dying for.

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~Excerpt~

Amber gasped when she noticed Bane’s erection and she cast a quick look at his face to see if he had woken. He hadn’t moved a muscle since the last time she’d checked —except that now, his obsidian gaze locked with hers.

 The shaking in her knees intensified and a tremble skittered across her skin as her groin convulsed. Amber knew she should run back to the sofa and rethink her plan to seduce Malachi Bane.

 She had waited for him to return, determined to make him face her as an equal rather than his victim. What he’d done to her with nothing more than his mind hadn’t even nearly satisfied her. Amber wanted him.

 Bane’s strong, muscled body lay inches from her if only she had the courage to reach out and show him what she wanted. Amber took a step closer, ignoring the hand he put up in warning. Emboldened that he hadn’t told her yet to stop, she pulled her t-shirt off, revealing her bare breasts to him.

“Amber, no,” he groaned, but she could see by the hungry glint in his eyes that he didn’t mean it. She pulled at the zipper of her jeans, holding his gaze with hers and silently pleading that he let her do what she needed to. She kicked the denim off along with her panties and closed the distance between her and Bane.

 He shut his eyes again, as if trying to blot out her image. “It’s not really me you want,” he said, his voice rough with tension. “You are reacting to an inbuilt lure, designed to pull you in so I can prey on you.”

Amber placed her knee onto the edge of the bed and crawled over him, coming to rest with her legs straddling his. The skin of his thighs was cool against hers, his body the same temperature as the interior of the cave.

“That’s why I came to you this way – so you would know I am here because I want to be.” She dropped a kiss on his chest. “Because I need to be.”

Bane lay beneath her unmoving; his jaw set in a rigid line as if trying to keep control. Amber licked and nibbled at him, ignoring his attempts at resisting her and thrust her groin down onto his, gasping as his erection brushed against her sensitive skin.

 Suddenly, his fingers slid into her hair, his movements so fast that the gentle touch surprised her. But just as she thought he had accepted her – that he would give her what she asked for – he lifted her head to look at her, a plea in his eyes.

“Amber, don’t do this.”

She hushed him. “You could have stopped me by now if you wanted to, Bane.”

His hand slid out of her hair and she turned her face to it, kissing his palm and trailing her tongue up to his fingers. She locked her gaze on his and sucked the tip into her mouth. He tensed beneath her and his eyes closed with a groan, his body shaking, as if fighting the urge to move or respond.

 Amber leaned forward, brushing her lips across his gasping mouth. Bane jerked away from her, holding her off by her shoulders. She diverted her attentions to his lower half, snaking her feet into the gap between his thighs as she moved down with the intention of taking him in her mouth. Her tongue left a wet trail over his skin and she heard the breath still in his throat as he anticipated her touch. Her head came to a rest on his pelvis and she looked at him, watching his reaction when her breast came into contact with his rigid penis.

 Bane surged up from the bed, grabbing her shoulders again and lifting her away from him. “Slowly, Amber…don’t move too fast.”

Simply relieved that he hadn’t rejected her again, she laughed at his warning. If he came quickly, they could try again as soon as he had recovered. Her hand moved to his cock without hesitation.
A growl erupted from the man beneath her, so sudden, loud and fierce, it scared her upright. Bane threw his forearm over his face, but not before she’d seen the long, white teeth biting into his lip.

 Amber screamed…and then things started to happen really fast.

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BLOOD THERAPY by Lynda Hilburn

BLOOD THERAPY by Lynda Hilburn

Book 2, Kismet Knight, Ph.D., Vampire Psychologist Series

Dr. Kismet Knight and the dark world of vampires are back in this sexy sequel to the wicked romp The Vampire Shrink.

Still reeling from her earlier adventures, the spunky, smart, and tough heroine tries to adjust to her new reality--and new undead clientele. Then she discovers a frightening secret about these powerful immortals that further warps her world.

Needing to escape, she flees to New York for the American Psychological Association's conference, where she meets up with hottie FBI Agent Alan Stevens. Unfortunately, he's not the only blast from the past in the Big Apple: so is Lucifer, the demented tormentor who nearly killed her. As the killer closes in, everyone is rounded up for a shocking finale that no one will survive unscathed.

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Excerpt from BLOOD THERAPY, Kismet Knight, Vampire Psychologist Book #2

“I don’t blame you for being upset, and I know you’ll acclimate.” I repeated the same word he had used—it seemed like weeks ago—when he was talking about me and his vampire intensity. “You’ll see that nothing important is different.”

He didn’t look convinced.

I had to grin. He was so out of his comfort zone. If he were a client, I’d be very happy about this development because it meant he was ready to explore unknown territory. But I didn’t think an 800-year-old master vampire would really like the idea of change much. I pretend-genuflected. “You’re still the almighty vampire king of the universe.”

The corner of his lip tugged up until a full, brilliant smile blossomed.

“Well, as long as we are in complete understanding about that.”

We lapsed into silence again. This was, without a doubt, the most awkwardly uncomfortable time Devereux and I had ever spent together. It was my turn to fidget. I played with my hair and stared at the floor. The rules had changed. Neither one of us knew what was going on, and until we figured out our new roles in our relationship—or whatever it was we were having—we’d feel insecure.

I felt sad that things had become so strange between us, because I really did care about him, vampire insanity and all. I guess I hadn’t let myself think about how much I wanted us to work out our issues.
He cleared his throat and stood. “I imagine you are tired, and would like some time to yourself. I will go.”

I held out my hand for him to pull me up, and when he did, my robe, clearly acting out my unconscious desires, came untied and draped open. I started to close it, to cover myself, but then chose not to. “Don’t go.” I suddenly felt shy with him, but wanted to take the risk of reaching out. I took a deep breath and threw back my shoulders, momentarily afraid he’d choose to leave.

His mesmerizing eyes tracked down my body. “Are you sure?”

Relieved, my nipples hardened and my hormones, dressed in cheerleader costumes, formed a conga line and began calling out the letters of Devereux’s name, flailing their pom-poms across the landscape of my mind. My libido did a backflip. Apparently I was sure.

“Yes.” Warmth radiated up my body. “All I’ve done is sleep for the past seven days. I’m not tired at all.” I took his hand and pulled him toward the stairs. “Besides, I’ve missed you.”

“And I you.”

We climbed silently. I felt jittery, on edge, as if I’d never been with him before. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. His beautiful profile looked serious, but I sensed his excitement and uncertainty.

Instead of turning on my bedroom light, I went to the nightstand, pulled out a lighter, and lit the wicks of several candles I’d kept in my room since the last time Devereux and I had spent time there. I closed the door and dropped my robe to the floor.

He peeled off his black leather coat and tossed it on a chair, his eyes never leaving mine, then he tugged off his boots, pulled the silk shirt over his head in a smooth motion, and shook his lustrous hair. His expression ravenous, he unsnapped the waist of his leather pants and drew down the zipper. With vampire speed, the pants were off and kicked to the side.

We moved slowly toward each other.

My heart pounded and my body heated, as if the candles were giving off a blaze instead of tiny flames.

When we were standing close enough for my nipples to touch his chest, he wrapped his arms around me, and nodded at the candles, extinguishing them. The room went dark and immediately wind blew against my face as we soared through space.

“Hold on!” he said.

“Hey—it’s cold out here! I’m naked! Where are we going?”

“You will see.”

“Devereux, really,” I yelled over the sound of the wind. I loved his surprises, but his mood had been so odd I wasn’t sure I was ready for another mystical adventure. “Where are you taking me?”

“Wherever I wish.” He laughed.

We landed gently in an incredible room that looked like my fantasy version of Arabian Nights.

He released me, and I scanned the immediate area, dazzled by the gorgeous layers of multicolored silk and satin fabric which covered the walls, and draped randomly and luxuriously across the expanse.

I wandered, touching and rubbing the layers between my fingers, very aware of his gaze on me.

A massive bed topped with a bold red, purple, and blue silk spread dominated the room. Unobtrusive music drifted from hidden speakers and rich, exotic incense burned in a small bronze tray sitting on a low table surrounded by oversize pillows scattered across the floor. Candles atop tall holders arranged throughout the space created a soft golden light.

“Wow, this is quite something.” I felt like a kid in a candy store. “Is it another one of your properties?” I knew he had hundreds.

“Yes.”

Hmmm. My previous enthusiasm drooped. No confusion about the purpose of this opulent sex den. I tried to keep my voice neutral. “Do you bring women here often?” Fearing what he would say, my stomach muscles contracted. I was surprised by how much his answer mattered to me.

The corners of his lips rose. “I do not need to read your mind to know the response you wish me to give.” He moved to me, lifted my chin, and brushed my lips with his. “I am petty enough to be happy you are jealous.”

Was I jealous of the other women he’d brought here? Hell, yes!

I imagined the truly gorgeous specimens he might choose and shifted carefully out of his reach. “I’m not jealous. Just curious.”

“You are a bad liar.” He grinned. “But I can give you the answer you desire: no, I do not bring women here. This suite is part of a fantasy-based business I own. The company offers multi-themed buildings all over the world for the purpose of romantic escapes. The business is very successful.”

“Oh.” I looked away as relief swamped me.

“I chose this destination because I thought we both could benefit from a little positive fantasy, and some time without interruptions of any kind.”

My pulse quickened.

SWORD OF REGRET by H.A. Fowler

SWORD OF REGRET by H. A. Fowler

What if there was an artifact that could rekindle the conscience of a killer?
When a vicious vampire and a ruthless vampire hunter touch just such an artifact in these two dark erotic tales, the relationships between humans and immortals could be changed... forever.

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An Excerpt from: Sword of Regret
Sword of Day

Copyright © 2006 H.A. Fowler

All rights reserved, Freya's Bower.

By reading this excerpt, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are younger than 18 years old, you must exit this site at once.

Before their souls had been opened to the true nature of their former enemies, both she and the hunter had committed heinous crimes against the other. How could she punish this fallen man when she could see herself in his eyes? Feel his sorrow, his self-loathing, as her own? How could she end him when she knew just what terrible lesson he had learned?

"Get up," she snapped, venting some of her frustration and confusion so it wouldn't incinerate her from within.

Armand D'Atellio, king of vampire slayers, remained curled into a fetal ball, hands over his face as if to block the visions of his crimes, weeping like a broken child.

"Why won't you kill me?" he cried, once again hitting her with those gut-wrenching eyes. "I would kill you!"

An ironic smirk touched her lips. "No you wouldn't. Not anymore." She nodded to her guards. "Take him to my bedchamber and leave him there."

* * *

An Excerpt from: Sword of Regret

Sword of Night

Copyright © 2006 H.A. Fowler

All rights reserved, Freya's Bower.

 

Jake never saw her move, and yet, she suddenly had him up against the wall, one tiny hand around his throat, holding him up off the floor with his feet dangling. Spots whirled around the edges of his vision, but he could still see that her face had changed. The sweet roundness that had so drawn him before had shifted to sharp planes and harsh edges. She snarled loudly, flashing more fangs than he thought should be possible in such a tiny, delicious mouth.

He was harder than ever -- an irony that made the civilized man in him cringe a little. What was it they always said about sex and violence? Nataya knew the effect she was having. She crushed her lush little body against him even as she choked out his life. She pressed the side of her face to his, and drew a long, wet line over the edge of his ear with her cool tongue. He shivered more violently than ever, and still not from fear.

"Now do you believe me?" she purred, raising goosebumps over every inch of his body.

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DON'T DRINK THE BLOOD by Cheryl Dragon

DON'T DRINK THE BLOOD by Cheryl Dragon

When Emma walks into a vampire bar, Bill knows they’re both in trouble and he needs to get her out of there. He takes her home and their passions click.
Unfortunately, she’s caught the eye of an evil vampire who loves trophies and wants Emma. Even worse, she’s not happy with a human! She wants to experience a real vampire.

Bill is just a vampire hunter who rescues innocent humans. After Emma rushes into danger, he saves her from the vampires, but the trouble is far from over! The vampire wants revenge, and this time it's up to Emma to do the hunting and rescuing!

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Excerpt:

Life was supposed to be an adventure! All of Emma Lacey’s life had been spent in a quaint suburb on the north side of Chicago, and life had always been dull. She even worked out of her apartment.

With both parents as scientists, she’d turned out to be the dreamer in the family. Her computer-generated art was real to her, whether the graphics ended up in a video game or the side of a bus. At twenty-five, she’d made a successful start to her career, but she’d grown bored already. The dreamer in her wanted to live out the art and fantasy, not simply create it.

So she’d decided she’d finally have some tonight, and she’d taken the train into the city as dusk started to fall.

Drac’s Place wasn't a very subtle name for a bar that catered to vampires and their friends. She found it easily, but one glance disappointed her. No flashy sign. Not even a guy at the door checking IDs.

Walking in, she surveyed the poorly lit room as she shrugged off her long, black, wool coat. The unpredictable Chicago weather had made for a chilly October already, but for a vampire bar, this place was warm. The layout was average with a bar on one side and tables and booths on the other. In the center was a dance floor and at the far end were a DJ and a hallway. The people were a mix: male, female, old, young. Some were dressed up for the occasion, wearing all black and exaggerated makeup. Others appeared very casual.

Emma felt better that she’d stuck with her normal wardrobe. The pretty purple dress with silver swirls that she hadn't been able to resist buying fit in perfectly well here. That and the silver pumps weren't her everyday wear of jeans and T-shirts in front of her computer. Most of her friends were married, in serious relationships or had moved away for their career. Her life was increasingly online.

No doubt, something was missing for her every day existence.

As she approached the bar, Emma wondered if she’d find that fulfilling adventure here. In her work, vampires were her favorite creations. The myth and fantasy were so sexual and thrilling. Who wouldn't want to see it for themselves? To live forever and never age was a dream.

Not that Emma longed to join the undead. She wanted to meet them and make her work as real as possible. So much had been done in art. Was there anything new? Deep down, she wondered if she hadn't met the right man because he’d been turned. Maybe, vampires were all part of her destiny?

The bartender appeared human with a big cross hanging around his neck. Maybe vampires weren't really hurt by religious icons? It was more plausible that he was a human, and it was all decoration for the visitors. She ordered a margarita then turned to watch people for a bit. The DJ fired up the music and people crowded the floor. Some were vampires. Their pale skin and blatant fang displays made it obvious. The humans seemed eager to be picked up as they mingled without fear.

As always, Emma faced serious competition! Watching a busty blonde pull a vampire’s face to her chest, Emma began to doubt she’d fit in here either.

A tall and beautiful man sat beside her with a nod. Dark eyes and black hair made him look extremely pale. The quiet power about him made her curious. He didn't smile; she couldn't see his fangs.

“I’m Emma,” she said.

“Pierson. Your first time?” he asked.

She nodded. There was nothing usual about his voice, but he had to be a vampire. Why else would he sit next to a human? She could tell it wasn't his first time here.

Unlike some of her friends, she lacked the gift of gab. As she tried to think of something to say, another man caught her eye. He appeared to be coming from the back hallway.

He had short, dark-brown hair, lean muscle and pale skin. Her hopes for a connection grew when she saw he was casually dressed in black jeans and a University of Chicago T-shirt. He was no college kid. She saw the maturity and confidence in him as he cut through the dancing crowd. He leaned on the bar to her other side and gave her a quick smile then a long look.

“Beer, please,” he said to the bartender.

Emma smiled, but her tongue tied in her mouth. Her attraction to him was undeniable, and she didn't want to screw it up. While she hadn't planned to have a one-night stand with a vampire, she couldn't ignore the desire to touch danger and explore the undead. She sipped her drink and tried to look friendly but not desperate.

As he sipped his beer and checked out the crowd, Emma checked out him. When he asked her a question, she almost missed it. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Would you like to dance?” he repeated.

“Sure!” It flew out of her mouth before she processed the question. Luckily, the DJ had changed to slow songs.

“I’m Emma.” She took his hand. His skin was cool to the touch yet it sparked her interests.

“Bill. You've never been here before?” he asked.

“Nope. First time. But I’m a big fan.” Her hand slid along his shoulder, and it felt as if he were warming up as well. Maybe, she turned him on?

Maybe he’d just fed?

“Fan?” Bill asked.

“I’m a graphic designer. Vampires are big business.” She shrugged. “What’s down that back hall?”

“You don’t want to go back there. So this is research for you?” Bill’s smile went flat.

“No, not entirely. I’m curious. Attracted to it. I was just wondering where the ladies room is. If it’s not down that hall then where?”

“Oh yeah, it’s there, too. Just be careful. Some people go back there to feed. Things can get dangerous. Not everyone here is nice like me.” Bill sounded more like an older brother.

“I’m not looking for danger, but I can take care of myself. I’m really looking for an up-close, friendly experience, not a fight.” She pressed to him and never wanted to let go. Physical attraction fogged her brain. No man had ever made her feel this way, at least not one who returned her lustful thoughts.

“I agree, private is best. Are you here with anyone?” Bill asked.

“No. All alone. Sometimes, I feel like I’m alone all the time. Work and being single. We all need to connect.” She inhaled his masculine scent. It reminded her of wood and incense.

“We do. Maybe, you could come by my place and we could talk? I really hate bars.” Bill smiled.

It was too fast, but her body knew he wasn't just interested in talking. While he was the perfect gentlemen, she saw ulterior motives deep in his eyes. Vampires could be dangerous, but he wasn't staring at her neck or feeling her pulse. This felt far more sexual, and she could handle that. “ I've never had any luck at the bar scene, until now.”

“May I cut in?” Pierson stepped up.

“We were just leaving,” Bill said flatly.

“She hasn't been here that long.” Pierson glared at Bill and turned to her smiling. “You haven’t even been here an hour. Why not stay and explore?”

“There’s always tomorrow night.” She wanted an adventure, and being with Bill would be exactly that!

Dashing to get her coat, she found him at the door holding it open for her. Such a gentleman! She kissed him impulsively and gave into her to darker side.
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DETERMINED LOVER by Zenobia Renquist

DETERMINED LOVER by Zenobia Renquist

Caveat Emptor Book Six

Medusa must decide if dealing with the pain of her past is a fair price for loving the man who would be her future.

Medusa and Darius have escaped with their lives, but to where? The location is an unknown, like their relationship.

After nearly two hundred years apart, Darius is ready to move forward, but Medusa cannot reconcile her present self with the past she purposefully forgot.

Caveat Emptor -- Let the Buyer Beware.

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Caveat Emptor: Determined Lover
Zenobia Renquist
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Zenobia Renquist

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.


His breath was coming too fast... panting. She could barely feel his heart beating beneath her hand where it rested on his chest. His lean, muscled body was wracked with visible pain. Medusa knew Darius was dying despite his earlier denials.

She wouldn't let that happen. They had been reunited after nearly two centuries apart. Medusa had never thought such a thing possible, but she hadn't known about Darius's immortality. Or perhaps he wasn't immortal when they met. Whatever the case may be, his immortality hadn't come with invulnerability. The spell he'd cast to help them escape death at the hands of his cohorts had stressed his body to the breaking point.

Medusa had to save his life before she could think about reveling in their renewed relationship. Only a few things kept her from acting. First, neither of them had any clothing since they had fled capture after a round of getting re-acquainted sex. Second, Darius's escape spell had landed them on the side of a very high mountain with no path down. Medusa could jump it, but not with Darius in tow. She couldn't use a magical transport spell either. Transporting without knowing where she was or where she wanted to go had its own dangers, but the strain of more magic running through Darius's body might kill him.

That left the cave at their back as shelter against the elements and possible attack. She glanced over her shoulder at the wide opening of the cave. Her vampiric sight, able to pierce any darkness, couldn't make out the back of the cave, which meant it was deep. She couldn't tell if it was inhabited.

Darius wheezed before coughing. His cough had a watery sound and a coppery smell. He had blood in his lungs. She smoothed her hand through his kitten-soft hair in a soothing gesture. The motion calmed her as much as him. She loved petting his hair and watching the light shimmer off the scattered strands of blond and red combined with the brown. She wouldn't lose him.

Medusa didn't have time to worry about what dangers the cave held. She could handle any animal, no matter how big. She needed to get Darius to a safe, secure spot so she could help him recover.

She lifted him against her chest and rushed inside the cave.

"I should be carrying you," Darius whispered. He tried to laugh but it came out as a cough instead.

"You need to shut up and save your strength."

He grunted but didn't try to speak again.

Medusa carried him to the depths of the cave. It went back a fair distance. Good. That meant she would see any intruders long before they saw her. She expected Darius's cohorts any second. There was no way the mages would pass up recapturing an escaped vampire and a mage traitor.

Low growling from an animal stopped Medusa. She placed Darius on the ground behind her, propped against the cave wall, and then faced the oversized lump ahead of her -- the one she had mistaken for a rock a moment ago. It unfolded itself into a very large, very grumpy bear.

"Medusa."

"Quiet. I'll deal with this and then help you." She stayed close to the wall as she paced forward. A quick snap of her metal ring-covered, floor-length dreadlocks near the bear's head would frighten the animal into running from the cave.

She turned her head in a quick jerk while adding a small telekinetic push with her hand so one lock would hit the bear. Except it didn't. Her hair waved forward as though pushed by a breeze and then settled against her side once more. The usual sound of metal links clashing against one another was absent. That was when Medusa remembered her haircut at the time of her capture. The mage holding her had sheared off her hair at the roots and had taken great delight doing it.

The hair grew back in a matter of seconds, resuming its rope-like style as it grew, but the metal links she used to adorn her hair, turning it into twenty lethal chains the use of which she had honed over the last two hundred years, were gone. She had to come up with another method to deal with the bear, who had only grown more agitated with her movements.

She had vampiric speed and strength as well as sight in the inky darkness of the cave, but she didn't want to hurt the bear, only convince him to leave. Maybe a show of power would do it...

She rushed the bear. He smacked her with his paw, and she let the blow knock her to the ground. It was her turn to grunt when he brought his front legs down on her shoulders. The attack might have crushed a mortal, but she hadn't been mortal in a very long time. Sick as the bear was, she could easily have overpowered him, but instead she let him think he was winning.

He went for her neck, ready to rip her throat out, but she grabbed him in a tight hug. His teeth sank into her shoulder as he tried to pull free. She ignored that pain to see her plan through.

The bear had tasted her blood. She knew what that meant for a human -- a mental connection between them, and for the human, longer life, faster healing, and enhanced strength and speed. She only hoped the same held true for other mammals. "Hear me and understand."

The bear stilled. Medusa could smell fear again, but she didn't have time to reassure him. He could understand her. That was all she needed to know.

She loosened her hold. "Let me up."

He released her and jumped back.

She sat up and held her hand out to him. "You didn't hurt me. I did that so you could understand me." She wiggled her fingers at him. "Come here."

He looked at her one way and then the other before stepping forward so she could touch his head.

"Good boy. Good boy. You're a big, beautiful bear, aren't you?" She smiled when the bear grunted. "My friend and I only need shelter. That's all. We didn't mean to disturb you. Can we stay?"

She smiled when he licked her hand.

"Thank you." She gave his head a pat and then turned her attention back to Darius.

His was another heartbeat that didn't sound steady. Unlike the bear, she couldn't feed Darius her blood. Renewed relationship or not, he was still a mage. He might have helped her escape and professed to love her, but that love might not extend to sharing blood with a vampire. Besides, she had something better to share.

She returned to him and knelt at his side. "Darius?"

His odd eyes -- one blue and one brown -- looked at her, but they were unfocused. He tried to speak, but she covered his lips with her finger. She smiled when he kissed her finger.

"You aren't healing. You need power. Take it from me." She placed his hand over her left breast, above her heart.

Darius rasped, "Such beautiful breasts." His fingers twitched as though he would have squeezed the small yet pert mound but he didn't have that much strength.

"Yes, they're lovely. Now take the energy you need."

"Kill you. No." He pulled at his hand, but she held him.

"It won't kill me. I can die one hundred mortal deaths and still be fine. Take my energy, damn it. I won't lose you again. You said you wouldn't die. Have the centuries turned you into a liar?"

Darius sucked in a breath as he closed his eyes.

She thought he was breathing his last until she felt it. His power. He drew on her life force, pulling the energy through her body and into his own. The more he took, the better he got, but the weaker she felt.

The world turned fuzzy and then black. She really hated mortal death. She liked to avoid it at all costs. Only for Darius would she endure it this time.

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FORGOTTEN LOVER by Zenobia Renquist

FORGOTTEN LOVER by Zenobia Renquist

Caveat Emptor Book Five

Captured by mages, Medusa is more upset at her own weakness than the mages' idea of torture. Once free of them, she plans to slaughter them all.

Except, there is one mage who awakens long buried memories of desire from a past best left forgotten. She knows this man to the depths of her soul, but she and Darius are on opposite sides of a war that has raged for centuries.

It's more than her heart at stake if she gives in to her desires.

Caveat Emptor -- Let the Buyer Beware.

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Caveat Emptor: Forgotten Lover
Zenobia Renquist
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2011 Zenobia Renquist

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.


The charm's magic might be strong, but she'd seen Theron fight it. If his will could overcome it, then so could hers.

"Get away from her!" That command was shouted by another mage who entered the room. The mage threw power at Medusa's captor, tossing the man against the far wall.

Her captor righted himself and lifted a glowing hand at his assailant. "You dare attack me, Darius?"

"Quincy, you are an idiot." Darius gestured to Medusa. "Look at her eyes."

Medusa managed enough control of her body so she glared at them both.

Quincy stared at her in shock. "That cannot be." He shook his head as though that would make everything better. "The charm is active. She should be nothing but a doll."

"She would have killed you the second you touched her. Obviously your magic isn't up to the task of containing her." Darius held up an envelope. "I'm willing to take her off your hands."

"How much?"

"Well over what you would get if you sold her through normal means." He tossed the envelope.

Quincy held out his hand and beckoned, making the envelope zip over to him. He thumbed through the contents. "You think your magic can overcome everything. Your arrogance will get you killed. Have her, then. When she disposes of you, I will laugh at your stupidity and take her back." Quincy left the room.

Darius watched the man go before facing Medusa. He sighed and shook his head. "Come, vampire." He turned and walked away.

Medusa didn't want to follow him. The charm overrode her senses again and made her walk. Rather than waste energy she might need later, she simply allowed the charm to function. Once night fell, she would have more freedom. She would leave this place, killing as many of the mages as she could in the process. Starting with the mage she followed.

This mage was shorter than she was by four inches. That would make him about five foot seven. He was lean, but she didn't mistake that for weakness. The way he moved spoke of a body trained for fighting. A martial art of some sort, possibly. Most mages were soft from depending on their magic for everything, but not this man.

Martial arts training would mean he had speed. Medusa remembered the way he had arced power at Quincy. The spell had moved quickly, not even allowing Quincy enough time to shield. This Darius might not have vampire speed but he would be a formidable opponent if Medusa didn't time her attack properly.

Some primal part of her cautioned her to be wary. The man walked with his back to her, knowing she could fight the power of the charm. That had to mean he didn't fear that she might attack him, because he knew his powers could overcome any attack she launched.

She sensed none of Quincy's stupidity in this man. That was dangerous. Darius stopped at a doorway, opened it, and then stepped back, waving her forward.

She walked to the middle of the room and then faced him. Now what? Would he continue what Quincy had started? If that was his plan, he better do it quickly. She could feel the sun moving across the sky. The man had less than two hours before sunset. She had no qualms about killing him mid-coitus if it meant she would be free.

He closed the door behind him before stripping off his floor-length mage cloak. The thick, black cloth fell to the floor with a soft thud. Darius rolled his shoulders and then his neck as though happy to be free of the burden. He said, "Now then."

Medusa readied herself to endure as he reached toward her. He touched the charm nestled at the base of her neck. A surge of power shot through her body and then he stepped back. "There."

What?

Medusa lifted her hands. Her movements were her own. Her body obeyed her, and she hadn't had to wait for sunset.

She looked at Darius, instantly on guard. "What are you doing? What trick is this?"

"No trick."

"You're the idiot you proclaimed Quincy to be if you think your magic is faster than me."

"Attack me if it pleases you." He backed away from her and sat on his bed, giving her an expectant look.

She didn't trust his open invitation. It was a trick of some kind. He had a magical trap waiting that would damage her as soon as she neared him. "No."

He raised a questioning eyebrow and looked amused. "Really? Such a pity."

"Are you hoping for death, mage? Is that why you brought me here?"

"Death? No. I hope for something else entirely." He stood and walked over to her. "You would have been wasted on Quincy. I make a much better partner."

With a speed that rivaled her own, Darius grabbed her to him and laid his lips on hers. She stared at him, too surprised to pull back or push him away. He ended the kiss and smiled at her. "You are as sweet as I remember."

"What? I don't know you."

"How cruel of you to say you don't remember me. I remember you quite well. You were so shy in those days."

She pushed away from him then. "What are you talking about? What days?"

"When you were human, Medusa." He nodded at her wide-eyed shocked expression.

"My name. How do you know my name?"

"You told it to me."

"You're human," she whispered. "You cannot have known me when I was human. That was back in the eighteen hundreds."

"I am a mage, Medusa. Not only am I a mage, I am a mage lord. Immortality is child's play to me."

She could only stare at him. A distant memory tickled the edges of her mind. A memory from her time as a weak, subservient human who had cowered at the sight of her own shadow. She hated remembering those days. She wasn't that woman any longer.

But this man... His face triggered those memories.

Odd eyes, one blue and one brown, held laughter and mischief in equal parts. His brown hair riddled with streaks of blond and red brushed his neck and the tops of his ears. Not enough to pull into a ponytail but enough for a lover to run her fingers through.

Medusa knew the softness of that hair. It was like petting a cat. Hair so fine should never top a human's head. At the time she had thought he was some wild beast that had taken human form.

She stumbled back a few steps, not believing the direction of her thoughts. It couldn't be. The man she had known in the past was human. The man before her was human too. But he said he possessed immortality. If that fact had been true then as well...

She rasped, "Lord Arundel?"

"The same, sweet Medusa." He bridged the distance between them and pressed his lips to hers once more. "I will remind you of what you have forgotten."

One part of her fought against the memories his kiss invoked while another part reveled in their return.


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MARKED FOR PLEASURE by Stacey Espino

MARKED FOR PLEASURE by Stacey Espino

Blood Bond One

Frances, Joseph, and Christian are vampires living seamlessly in human society. Although they're drawn to the girl down the street, mating with a human is forbidden. Frances finally dares to visit Heidi at night, entering her fantasies. When his brothers find out, they all want to get in on the action.

Heidi's always had a crush on the three DeVille brothers, but they never acknowledge she exists. When they hire her to sell their mansion at the end of the street, she wonders if they've actually noticed her all these years. Once they begin to dote over her, pulling her into their erotic web, she's ready and willing to submit.

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ADULT EXCERPT


“Enough.” Francis’s deep voice rang through the lust-filled room. Joseph pulled free of her mouth, and she turned to face the end of the bed. “It’s time, my sweet, little lamb. Are you ready?” Francis climbed up the bed with the grace of a panther, dark shadows giving him a sinister edge.

“Don’t make me forget again,” she said, afraid it would all seem as a dream when she woke up in the morning.

Francis shook his head. “I want you to remember this.”

“Please,” she begged. “I need you.”

The tips of those super sharp incisors peeked out from under his thick lips. They fascinated her—his differences, strengths, fueling her desire. She felt the head of his cock between her moist folds. She’d never been so wet, so achy. He exhaled after he pushed an inch inside her. “You’re tight. Very tight.” Francis sounded like a man on the edge. This was exactly what she’d wanted, to see him lose control, become lost to their lust.

“More.” The more he pushed in, the snugger the butt plug felt in her ass. She was being filled to the max, stuffed full of cock and silicone.

“I may break a slight thing like you. You’re only human.”

Human or not, she knew her body could take every inch of his cock. Heidi had survived his flogging, so she could survive being fucked by him. “If I’m really meant for you, then we must be well suited.”

He tucked his arm under her shoulders and held her close. With his free hand, he drove the remaining inches into her tight pussy. She moaned from the mix of pain, fullness, and undiluted satisfaction. Once fully seated, he rested, his weight bearing down on her.

“Oh gods, you feel good hugging my cock.” He kissed her lips, slowly, sensually.

As the kiss deepened, she was pricked by his needle-sharp fangs, just as she had with Christian. The pooling of blood in her mouth seemed to spur him on. Their mouths blended into one as they explored each other. Without pulling away, Francis rose up slightly and began to thrust in and out of her cunt. The friction drove her mad. Her inner walls were so hyperaware and sensitive to this intrusion. He’d taken her dreaded virginity, made her feel like a woman for the first time. She bonded to him, wrapping her legs tight around his narrow hips.

Francis fucked her now, hard and rhythmically. The mattress shook, and she grabbed handfuls of his blanket in her fists to anchor herself to the bed. Every thrust hit a thousand pleasure centers. When she began to see sparks in her vision, Francis shifted her to her side.

Joseph’s deep voice was behind her, right at her ear. “Get ready for more, Heidi. I’ve never been so hard. It’s time we finish what we started earlier.” He plucked the butt plug from her ass and tossed it. She immediately noticed the emptiness and craved the fullness of being double fucked. He aimed his cock at her nether hole as Francis held her thigh over his hip to aid him. She held her breath, knowing his hard flesh would be different than the small toy. “Shhh. I’ll ease in nice and slow. Tell me if it hurts.”

These weren’t savages. They were thoughtful, giving lovers.

He thrust up, sliding against Francis’s cock. Both men groaned as they shared, squeezing into her petite body. She gasped, nearly gagged as the full length of his erection filled her. The rough scrape of his pubic hair on her ass and Francis’s against her mound proved just how sandwiched she was. How deep both cocks fucked her.

“How does that feel, little one?”

“Tight…Full.”

“Not full enough,” said Christian. He knelt at the head of the bed and offered his glistening erection for her perusal. He smirked, making her mouth water. He was so adorably fuckable. She beckoned him with her tongue and swallowed as much of him as she could. The connection was complete. All four of them on the bed together, each man taking her from a new angle.

Francis and Joseph began to move, working together to scissor in and out of her body. The dual thrusts, the sweat-glistened bodies, and muscle upon muscle surrounding her began her ascent. Heat pricked in her toes, climbing up her limbs and pooling in her pussy. Her uterus spasmed erratically, signaling she was getting close to orgasm. Christian pulled away when things got too wild, pumping his cock in his hand as he watched the display in front of him.

“I need to taste you,” Francis muttered, lost in the sex act. His hand gripped her hip so tight, she swore she’d have bruises over her lashes.

“Then bite me, vampire.”

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SHADOWED SOUL by Stacey Kennedy

SHADOWED SOUL by Stacey Kennedy

A 1 Night Stand Story

Four months have passed since Ellie's heart was broken by her cheating boyfriend, Gerrid. Sick of mourning, she sets out in search of a man to make her forget. Madame Eve of 1Night Stand arranges for Ellie to meet just the man at Nocturnal Nightclub in Miami. Bryce is not only sexy as sin but full of mystery. He does things no man should be capable of. Ellie might question his fast speed, cold hands, and even the way he bites at her skin - if he wasn't so determined to awaken the part of her that's been buried by lies.

Days have passed since Bryce's last feeding and his vampire hungers demand to be sated. But feeding is not his only intention. Ellie seeks to be a different woman, to gain power for herself, and Bryce plans to push her to discover it. To show her she can do things she never thought possible and force her to see the strength she yearns for already lives inside of her.

Ellie will have to choose, expose all of herself, or remain hidden in the dark shadows. But Bryce will have to make a choice of his own - let her go or keep Ellie forever?

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~Excerpt~

Ellie scanned the dance floor, searching for the man matching the picture Madame Eve had emailed her. Instead, she got a few heated glances from guys she wouldn’t touch on her worst days. So, instead of continuing to search, she lingered taking a seat upon a stool, listening to the bartender and Kenna talk dirty nothings to each other. Why isn’t he here?

After she downed her second Cosmo, goose bumps pimpled on the back of her neck, and she glanced over her shoulder to discover her date standing against the back wall. His gaze focused on one person, her.

Hallelujah!

“Oooo...my night is looking up,” she exclaimed.

Kenna didn’t respond, too busy playing googly eyes with the bartender. Ellie jabbed an elbow into her side. She hissed as she rubbed her ribs. “Ow, what?”

“He’s here. I’m going to dance.” She gestured behind her and grinned to show her intentions.

Kenna peeked over her shoulder before focusing back on Ellie and giving a shit-eating grin. “Have fun.”

Ellie slid off the stool, keeping her focus on the stranger. His mere presence screamed sex. Much taller than her five-foot-five frame—around six-two—but built like a brick shit house. His muscular arms were crossed over his chest, his broad shoulders tempting her, and she couldn’t wait to run her hands over them tonight.

Putting a little oomph into her step, she made her way onto the dance floor. The loud techno song washed over her, and the vibrations were strong against her feet. Her kinda music—hard and dirty.

Staying at the edge of the crowd, she found her beat and moved with the rhythm. Twirling, she ran her hands along her torso and did anything and everything to gain his attention.

To all appearances, her plan worked.

He dropped his arms to his side and stepped forward. His sparkling blue eyes, short, fashionably-styled black hair, and chiseled features warmed her right down to her toes. Her heart raced. Her insecurities drifted away. The world around her ceased to exist, leaving only him and her.

Wetness pooled in her panties. His nostrils flared and his heated gaze burned deeper. He approached and as he settled in front of her, he grabbed her lower back and yanked her against his hard body. Her head tilted back and he leaned down, cupped her nape, and kissed her.

A kiss not meant for strangers―not meant as a sweet hello. No, a promise he would pleasure her and she sang a big thank you, Jesus for bringing him to her. No thoughts. No regrets. Just two sweaty bodies going at it until exhaustion set in.

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BLOOD ETERNAL by Marie Treanor

BLOOD ETERNAL: an Awakened by Blood novel by Marie Treanor

Secrets don't disappear after seduction...

Elizabeth Silk is struggling to reconcile her passion for the vampire overlord Saloman and her allegiance to the vampire hunters. When a shocking vampire revolt calls Saloman away from her, she refuses to follow him.

To make matters worse, Saloman's beloved cousin Luk has been
found and awakened by one of his greatest enemies. Frenzied
with bloodlust, Luk embarks on a killing spree and prepares to
expose Saloman's biggest vulnerability: Elizabeth.

But under Saloman's regime, vampires have become less concerned with secrecy, no longer willing to hide their power. Rumors are swirling about attacks on humans. After Saloman joins forces with the vampire hunters to consolidate his power, Elizabeth begins to understand her role in the inevitable collision of the two worlds. She could bring resolution between vampires and humans - if she can manage to stay alive long enough to play both sides.

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Excerpts:

When the earth moved, the vampire Saloman felt a surge of exquisite pleasure almost akin to sexual release. The tension in him snapped, broken by the rush of rare, intoxicating fear.

Dawn approached, and he was too close to the earth¬quake’s center for safety, too isolated in these Peruvian mountains to be discovered should he become buried under an immovable fall of rock. Already he could hear the thunder of incipient avalanches and landslides drowning out the lesser destruction of man-made edifices, but if he honed his supernatural hearing, he could just about make out the distinctive thuds of collapsing wood and masonry in the distant villages. The sounds of wreckage brought him a certain amount of satisfaction. The villages were already empty of life—he’d seen to that over the last couple of weeks.

He, Saloman, was one of the very few able-bodied beings left on this mountain. Even the animals had fled, their instincts warning them that the earth was angry. Unlike them, Saloman savored that anger, that knowledge of a unique power far superior to his own, a power before which even his strength could do nothing. And so he lay on his hard mountain ledge in the dark, reveling in his rare moment of helplessness, smiling up at the black, wavering sky while the earth under him heaved and cracked, splitting rocks and trees, hurling down the flimsy village buildings.

He knew the risk; he didn’t want to end his existence or to return to the tortured sleep of death. He didn’t want to leave this world. He didn’t want to leave Elizabeth. And yet still he had come closer than he should to wait for the earth to shake—partly because he wanted to feel the massive power of it, partly because, like the rebellious boy he’d once been, he wanted to dare the danger.

It was an indulgence he shouldn’t have allowed himself. He acknowledged that as the ledge of rock split under his back, hurling him off the edge. At the last moment, he grasped onto the one stable corner, giving himself a modicum of control as he jumped the fifty feet or so onto the hard, jagged ground below—more from memory than sight, since the tumbling boulders and dust impaired his night vision.

By the time he’d found a flatter foothold sheltered enough to prevent any more stones from landing on his head and shoulders, the quake had stopped. The mountain, however, hadn’t. It continued to spit rocks down toward him, and below he could hear them gathering pace and volume. By morning, the mountain would have changed its shape.

Fear was good. He was glad he’d come up here to remember what it was like to be afraid. Confront your fears, his cousin Luk had told him, even before Saloman had died and been reborn a vampire. Luk had turned him, and had taught him well, just as if he’d known that Saloman would be the last of their Ancient race. Saloman had learned to face soul-destroying loneliness; he’d fought and defeated everyone who threatened him. There was no one left who could invade his mind and find him wanting—which had been his first and most intense fear, the one that had formed his boyhood and never quite left him. And yet he could think of his father now without pain or hurt or terror, and he knew that if it had been possible for them to meet again, he would not be afraid. He had no reason to be.
Saloman lay down once more, gazing up at the steady sky while the mountain rearranged itself with noisy, dust-filled aggression. He smiled, because no one else could possibly have done what he just had. No one had ever done what he was doing now.

Watch me, Elizabeth. I will prevail. The world will do my bidding. You can’t doubt it.

It was his own thought. He didn’t send it to her. He wouldn’t even tell her about this; he would let her find out for herself. Perhaps he’d even go to her, so he was with her when she made the discovery. Hunger tore through him. Blood and sex and Elizabeth. A reward before the next stage began.

He sat up, unable to be still any longer. His lesson in humility had, in the end, fed his self-belief. Only he could have survived the earthquake from here; he alone could unite and direct the world. No one could stop him. And as the world learned his power, who would want to? He’d find his way down the mountain and drink some human blood before he began his journey across the world to Scotland.

But as he rose, a scream of rage and terror slammed into his mind. Saloman let out an involuntary cry, grasping his head in both hands to prevent the pain, the anguish, instinctively trying to squeeze out the howling voice that should have been mere memory and yet felt as real as the rocks sliding and crashing their way down the mountainside. The flash of impossible presence surged and then vanished as swiftly as it had come, leaving Saloman to drop his hands slowly from his face.

Which was when he realized he had no time to analyze himself for sanity or injury. In a moment, he was going to be buried deep under an avalanche. Saloman hurled himself forward and leapt into darkness.


*


She gripped the stake, bracing her free hand against the rock. She didn’t need the detector anymore. She could sense Ancient.

He moved differently, like a shadow around the curve of the hill, gliding over the boulder a yard away from her feet. And instead of attacking, he stood still on top of the boulder and regarded her in silence. Only his long hair stirred in the breeze.

Slowly, Elizabeth lowered her stake. “Saloman.”

Saloman stepped down from the boulder and walked the distance between them. She tried to speak, questions and information tangling in her head and on her lips. In the end, she never made more than an inarticulate gurgle, because the words vanished as his sheer presence overwhelmed her. There was only his name in her head, his profound black eyes to drown in, his body pressing her flat into the rock. The hilt of his sword, a turning gift from Luk, brushed against her hip.

Wordlessly, she lifted her face to his. But he didn’t kiss her mouth. His silken lips took her neck in a strong, urgent pull. The hard shaft of his erection pressed between her thighs, and inappropriate lust galloped through her. Well, it had been a long time, several weeks. . . .

It seemed he felt the same. His tongue lapped at her vein and without warning his teeth pierced her skin. Her mouth opened in a silent cry of pain that vanished into the surge of fierce, familiar pleasure. She gripped his arms hard, letting herself glory just for a moment in the blissful weakness of her blood rushing into his mouth in answer to the tug of his lips.

So lost was she in the blood kiss that it was a moment before she realized he’d unzipped her jeans and pushed them and her panties down over her hips.

“Saloman, the hunters are here,” she managed. “They’re coming now.”

His cool, stroking hands left her hips, perversely disappointing her, until he seized the Ancient detector from her frozen hand and hurled it into the night. Before she could object to this vandalism, he lifted her and entered her body in one swift, gliding movement that shattered the remnants of her resistance.

Blood and sex and Elizabeth, he said inside her head.

Bastard. Can’t you even say hello?

He detached his teeth from her neck and flicked his tongue over the wound to heal it. His burning gaze lifted to hers.

“Hello,” he said huskily, and took her mouth.

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