I’m the only authentic Vlad. Everyone else is merely an envious imitation.
You’ll never get rid of me, either… No matter which side of the grave we’re on. I’ll haunt you, chase you all around eternity, whatever it takes, but it’s you and me until the stars burn out.
He’d wanted all of me and that’s what I’d given him. Did it mean I had nothing left? “No,” he muttered, voice thick with passion. “You have me, and I love you.
Then he leaned down, breath warm on my neck as he whispered his next words. "You've wondered if I felt differently about you since your abilities diminished. Let this serve as your answer.
I forgive you, but only because you said 'please.'" Smartass, I thought. Then I groaned at the instant chorus of "Please!" mixed with cries for release from Vlad's prisoners. No wonder he got so sick of the word. "I'm only merciful to one person a day," he threw over his shoulder. "As the saying goes, today isn't your day and tomorrow doesn't look good, either.
We had to play the hand we were dealt, all of us. Fighting the battles we could win.
More of that hair-raising energy rolled out of Vlad, until I was rubbing my arms to chase the tingling sensations away. Was this what Marty meant when he told me vampires could measure each others’ strength by feeling their auras? If so, then Vlad’s had Badass: Do Not Engage written all over it.
Hi. Cat was just keeping me company until you came back.” He glanced in the direction she’d just disappeared to before returning his attention to me. “Fourteen hundred and thirty-one." I blinked. "What's that?" "The year I was born, which is not, as you'll note, yesterday.
His embrace was my drug of choice, and as any addict knew, one sampling was way too many and a thousand never enough.
Miffed, I poked him in the chest. 'You think you know everything?' His hands caressed my back. 'Not everything, but some things. I knew without a doubt I'd fallen in love when we met. Then I knew I'd do anything to make you feel the same way.
Then I went to the morgue and saw that those bones weren't yours, heard your voice again in my head" -his eyes closed- "and once more, nothing else mattered.
Love is a terrible weakness. It gives your enemies a perfect target, clouds your judgement, makes you reckless... and that's on a good day.
Aren’t you going to ask me how it went, Kitten?" “You walked in and took the stairs one at a time,” I answered. “And you haven’t barked at me to get in the car, so I take it Majestic didn’t tell you our asses were trophies for hunting season. Am I wrong?
How I hated the dark part of me that continually foretold of failure or futility.
Have you met my boyfriend?” There. That was a doozy. His eyes narrowed, and his lips thinned into a tight line. Yep, Noah was a mood kill for both of us.
You've got to try this," I told Bones, handing him the glass. "It's like Cristal and O-Negative had a love child.
Can we move this along?" a bored voice stated. "I have places to be and people to shag." "Ian, I'm not going to hug you," I stated as I approached him. "I know you like this better." With that, I slapped him hard enough to rock his head to the side. When he'd straightened, he flashed me a wicked grin. "Finally, you give me what I want. Knew you loved me, Reaper.
Shame on you, Crispin. Married how long, and you haven't spanked your wife with a metal spatula yet?" I'd gotten used to Ian's assumption that everyone was as perverted as he was, so I didn't miss a beat. "We prefer blender beaters for our kitchen utensil kink," I said with a straight face. Bones hid his smile behind his hand, but Ian looked intrigued. "I haven't tried that ... oh, you're lying, aren't you?" "Ya think?" I asked with a snort. Ian gave a sigh of exaggerated patience and glanced at Bones. "Being related to her through you is a real trial.
You'll be scandalized in the morning when you can think again.
One of my favorite things about supernatural fiction is its vast array of creatures.
My parents were dismayed by my love of horror movies as a young girl, then even more dismayed when I kept rooting for Dracula to win instead of Van Helsing.
Vampires, werewolves, fallen angels and fairies lurk in the shadows, their intentions far from honorable.
Paranormal fiction offers authors - and readers - the chance to answer the question, what if? All the different ways that question can be answered make for extremely entertaining reading.
Perhaps some of the appeal of the dangerous-but-yummy paranormal anti-hero lies in his scorn for societal expectations. Yes, women have come a long way, but there are still some cultural stigmas more associated with women than men.
The Broken Destiny series will be a trilogy, with each book releasing about a year apart.
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