The man was downright drop-dead gorgeous.
I'm talking, beautiful, not going to change my mind that he's the sexiest thing in the world, better than the hero in my favorite book, stunning.
I'm talking, beautiful, not going to change my mind that he's the sexiest thing in the world, better than the hero in my favorite book, stunning.
────── ♔ ──────
Shakedown by Lani Lynn Vale
Rating: ALL THE STARS!!
Standalone - Souls Chapel Revenants MC #8
Release - November 9, 2021
Genre - Contemporary Romance with suspense elements / instant connection
Dual POV - 1st person
Heat Level - 4 out of 5 / several scenes
Format/Source - eARC provided by the author (thank you Uplifting Author Services)
Page Count - 259
Publisher - Indie
Standalone - Souls Chapel Revenants MC #8
Release - November 9, 2021
Genre - Contemporary Romance with suspense elements / instant connection
Dual POV - 1st person
Heat Level - 4 out of 5 / several scenes
Format/Source - eARC provided by the author (thank you Uplifting Author Services)
Page Count - 259
Publisher - Indie
Wanted: someone to hand feed me Doritos so my hands don’t get orange. No weirdos.
Belle Pena was an editor. Not a writer.
When her brothers challenge her to create a dating profile, she makes up the most random biography she can think of. She never, not ever, thought she’d find anybody to respond. But she was sorely mistaken.
Sadly, she finds that she has way more interest than she ever could’ve imagined.
But only one profile catches her eye.
Bruno never meant to take the dating app seriously. Being the last single man in his band of misfits, he’s happy being the odd man out. Women spelled trouble, and he had enough trouble in his life to last him through the next decade.
Only his newfound family doesn’t feel the same. One innocent ‘sure’ has the women of the Souls Chapel Revenants MC creating him a dating profile that is too spot on to be comfortable. And just when he decides to delete the app entirely, a particular face catches his eye.
One innocent question of ‘Belle is that you? Do you remember punching me in the throat in high school?’ has him stepping into trouble neck deep, and he doesn’t even realize it until it’s too late.
Purchase Links
Amazon ~ https://amzn.to/3BX40re
Apple ~ https://apple.co/3Cm2q36
Nook ~ https://bit.ly/3hIWGZo
Kobo ~ https://bit.ly/3hIhmAy
Audio ~ https://amzn.to/3ERPz9M
Apple ~ https://apple.co/3Cm2q36
Nook ~ https://bit.ly/3hIWGZo
Kobo ~ https://bit.ly/3hIhmAy
Audio ~ https://amzn.to/3ERPz9M
My Two Cents
We're at the end of the road and it's coming like LLV saved the best for last. How could anyone resist the charms and wiles of Bruno? Especially when he wasn't trying to be charming lol. He was kinda churlish and brooding and monosyllabic... and utterly delicious!
I always feel bad objectifying these characters, but then I remind myself that they're fictional and I ain't really hurting anyone and seriously... I can't help but be honest about how I feel... and all is right in my world again.
Bruno had taken some lumps in his life. He was destined for some greatness. And how awesome was it that his happiness was with Belle Pena?!
I feel like the author delivered two great characters, both deserving of blessings, and so much more. I loved how the Pena family popped in (Hi guys!!) and I loved how Bruno's chosen family was on point each and every time he needed them. And that epilogue... I'm sad to see them all go, but the author gave one amazing send off.
Check out the other books of this series:
Excerpt
Bruno
“Why Farmers Only?” I asked, wincing when I read the website’s name.
“Bruno, you have pigs. You’re a farmer. This is perfect,” Six assured me. “It’ll work out great. You can invite your date out to meet you at your farm. Y’all can go feed all of the animals. Then you can cook her dinner.”
I looked at Six.
“I don’t want to do this,” I told her bluntly.
“If you do this, I’ll never bring up you leaving me behind again,” Six declared.
I stared at her, wondering if her words were true.
I’d do just about anything for her to never bring that up again.
A long time ago, when we were in high school, her father had given me an ultimatum.
Leave Six alone, and never contact her again, or he’d make Six’s life a living hell.
The bad thing was, I knew that he could do it.
So like any dumbass seventeen-year-old, I’d done it.
I’d left her behind, gone my own way, and had never looked back.
At least, for appearance’s sake anyway, that was what I did.
In reality, I kept an eye on her from a distance, making sure that she was always okay.
At least, until Lynn, the man that might as well be my very own father, had taken a liking to her.
Then Six had come back into my life with a vengeance, and ever since she and Lynn had married, I’d found it almost impossible to get back into her good graces.
Which, might I add, was bullshit.
I’d done it for her.
Sure, once I’d ‘grown up’ I could’ve come back into her life, but who the hell would want an ex-con in their life?
I knew that I wouldn’t want anyone like me in Six’s life.
Hell, it was bad enough that I had to allow her husband, Lynn, to have a part of her life. If anything, Lynn was worse than I was.
But at least he loved her and would protect her.
That was more than I’d done for her.
“That’s not going to matter to him, honey,” Lynn said. “He believes that he deserves your ire, so he won’t care if you stop.”
That was true.
I did deserve her ire.
I’d left her, like she’d said.
Then again, I’d left a lot of people behind in my thirty-two years. Six was just one of many.
“Fine,” she said. “Then just do it because I want you to be happy.”
My eye started to twitch.
“I’m an ex-con, Six,” I said. “No woman’s going to want anything to do with me on Farmers Only. Or any website for that matter.”
Six rolled her eyes. “Bruno, you’re hot, successful, and you’re unattached. Trust me when I say that any woman is going to go for you, ex-con status or not.”
I sighed.
“I shot and killed someone. On purpose. There was no ‘oh, I might or might not have been high on adrenaline because he beat up my sister.’ I shot and killed someone. On. Purpose. People don’t just get over that because I’m hot,” I argued.
“You shot someone because you had to.” She waved my worry away. “And trust me when I say, someone out there will understand.”
Hell, I didn’t even understand.
And I’d been the one to do the shooting.
Granted, the guy had been a piece of shit.
He’d raped three women. He’d beat up his own mother. And he’d all but maimed a two-year-old with his careless actions.
But that wasn’t my reasoning for killing the piece of shit.
Hell, I hadn’t even known about all of that other stuff.
I’d known that the motherfucker had tried to kill me because of some suspected slight, and I’d had no other choice but to shoot him and suffer the consequences. That was it. Me or him.
I’d chosen me.
And then I’d spent the next eighteen months behind bars until the parole board had learned of all the other shit that the man had done in his life. Then they’d been all, ‘Oh, no. We need heroes like you on the outside.’ Which was a bunch of shit.
I was no hero.
“Are you even listening to me?” Six snapped.
“You know he’s not listening to you.” Catori, one of my brothers’ wives, chuckled.
“Where is your cut?” another woman asked. “You can’t take a picture like that. You have to have your cut on.”
I looked over to find Swayze, Trick’s wife, staring at me with her phone in her hand.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because leather and bikers go hand in hand,” she said. “If you don’t have your cut on, nobody will know that you’re in a club. And being in a club automatically ratchets up the hotness factor.”
I rolled my eyes. “It got dirty. Had to have it dry-cleaned.”
In all honesty, it got blood on it, and I’d had to douse it down with the water hose before taking it to the dry cleaners to see if they could salvage it.
If not, I might or might not need to find a new one.
I was hoping that it came out, though.
Or, at least, when I wore it, it didn’t look like I’d tie-dyed it in blood.
“Well that’s just stupid,” Swayze grumbled as she put her phone down.
“I have one from last week,” Blaise called out, pumping her fist into the air as if she’d hit the jackpot. “And he looks good in it. He’s not even scowling!”
I rolled my eyes.
“Oh, that one’s perfect. Send it to me.” Six was still typing away at the computer. “What do you think of this biography for a profile? Hobby pig farmer by day, Souls Chapel Revenant MC by night. Thirty-two-year-old man looking for a woman that isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. Anybody that can’t manage that need not reply.”
“I think we should add this…” Wyett suggested as she rattled off her idea of edits.
I sighed and sipped my beer, wondering idly how long it would take to get dinner figured out.
I was ready to go home.
Today had been long, and my fucking knuckles were aching.
Even worse, I think my back was acting up again.
I’d have to make another appointment at the chiropractor. The one that was scared of me.
Yay.
“Ohhh.” One of the ladies laughed, catching my attention.
“Oh, here’s one for you.” Six dissolved into laughter, turning the computer screen my way.
Wanted: Man to feed me Doritos so my fingers don’t get orange. No weirdos.
My ideal match: No animals, no kids, no annoying voices, doesn’t like beaches, can deal with me not talking, and doesn’t mind when I talk down to you or that I’m smarter than you. Also, it’d be ideal if you don’t like to cuddle, because my body temperature runs hot, and I don’t generally like people touching me skin to skin. Is blunt and doesn’t try to use sarcasm. Won’t try to get me to go out to places where there is a large group setting.
Again, no weirdos.
“This chick sounds like she’s perfect for you.” Six clicked on the photo, but she didn’t need to.
I’d seen the photo.
The woman was gorgeous.
Though I couldn’t see her height, I could make out other things.
She was curled up in a chair that looked like a cocoon of sorts. One with really tall sides, big, poofy cushions, and it was all hanging from a contraption from the ceiling.
She had her knees crisscrossed in front of her, and she was wearing a baggy white t-shirt, black horn-rimmed glasses, and had a book partially in front of her face.
That book happened to be one of my favorites.
Captain’s Fury by Jim Butcher.
In all honesty, that was the very first thing to catch my eye.
Her hair, which was so fuckin’ curly that I knew if I tried to run my fingers through it, they’d get caught at least a dozen times.
“She’s perfect,” Crockett declared. “Message her. But don’t make it weird. Make it… sweet.”
“Bruno’s not sweet,” one of the boys, likely Sin, called out. “Don’t make him come off as sweet. The chick will definitely know that it wasn’t him that wrote it.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Messaged her. Let’s see what she says.” Six squealed, clapping her hands.
I sighed.
“Oh, she already messaged back. Oh my God. She said, ‘Hell no.’”
My brows lifted at that.
“Oh, she’s perfect. I just know it.” Six snickered.
“Oh my God. I knew she looked familiar! That’s Belle Pena! One of my good friends! Sorry, Bruno. But there’s no way in hell that she’s going to agree to date you. She has a type,” Beckham said as she settled her son, Hiro, more firmly on her shoulder.
She looked like she was lagging, though.
I bent forward and caught the kid before Beckham, who really was interested in this whole mess, dropped her own kid.
Beckham didn’t even notice that she was giving him away to me before she was insinuating herself into the bullshit.
I tipped back the beer and settled the kid more solidly on my shoulder.
He snuggled in deep, buried his face in my neck, and promptly sneezed all down my neck.
Gross.
“Why Farmers Only?” I asked, wincing when I read the website’s name.
“Bruno, you have pigs. You’re a farmer. This is perfect,” Six assured me. “It’ll work out great. You can invite your date out to meet you at your farm. Y’all can go feed all of the animals. Then you can cook her dinner.”
I looked at Six.
“I don’t want to do this,” I told her bluntly.
“If you do this, I’ll never bring up you leaving me behind again,” Six declared.
I stared at her, wondering if her words were true.
I’d do just about anything for her to never bring that up again.
A long time ago, when we were in high school, her father had given me an ultimatum.
Leave Six alone, and never contact her again, or he’d make Six’s life a living hell.
The bad thing was, I knew that he could do it.
So like any dumbass seventeen-year-old, I’d done it.
I’d left her behind, gone my own way, and had never looked back.
At least, for appearance’s sake anyway, that was what I did.
In reality, I kept an eye on her from a distance, making sure that she was always okay.
At least, until Lynn, the man that might as well be my very own father, had taken a liking to her.
Then Six had come back into my life with a vengeance, and ever since she and Lynn had married, I’d found it almost impossible to get back into her good graces.
Which, might I add, was bullshit.
I’d done it for her.
Sure, once I’d ‘grown up’ I could’ve come back into her life, but who the hell would want an ex-con in their life?
I knew that I wouldn’t want anyone like me in Six’s life.
Hell, it was bad enough that I had to allow her husband, Lynn, to have a part of her life. If anything, Lynn was worse than I was.
But at least he loved her and would protect her.
That was more than I’d done for her.
“That’s not going to matter to him, honey,” Lynn said. “He believes that he deserves your ire, so he won’t care if you stop.”
That was true.
I did deserve her ire.
I’d left her, like she’d said.
Then again, I’d left a lot of people behind in my thirty-two years. Six was just one of many.
“Fine,” she said. “Then just do it because I want you to be happy.”
My eye started to twitch.
“I’m an ex-con, Six,” I said. “No woman’s going to want anything to do with me on Farmers Only. Or any website for that matter.”
Six rolled her eyes. “Bruno, you’re hot, successful, and you’re unattached. Trust me when I say that any woman is going to go for you, ex-con status or not.”
I sighed.
“I shot and killed someone. On purpose. There was no ‘oh, I might or might not have been high on adrenaline because he beat up my sister.’ I shot and killed someone. On. Purpose. People don’t just get over that because I’m hot,” I argued.
“You shot someone because you had to.” She waved my worry away. “And trust me when I say, someone out there will understand.”
Hell, I didn’t even understand.
And I’d been the one to do the shooting.
Granted, the guy had been a piece of shit.
He’d raped three women. He’d beat up his own mother. And he’d all but maimed a two-year-old with his careless actions.
But that wasn’t my reasoning for killing the piece of shit.
Hell, I hadn’t even known about all of that other stuff.
I’d known that the motherfucker had tried to kill me because of some suspected slight, and I’d had no other choice but to shoot him and suffer the consequences. That was it. Me or him.
I’d chosen me.
And then I’d spent the next eighteen months behind bars until the parole board had learned of all the other shit that the man had done in his life. Then they’d been all, ‘Oh, no. We need heroes like you on the outside.’ Which was a bunch of shit.
I was no hero.
“Are you even listening to me?” Six snapped.
“You know he’s not listening to you.” Catori, one of my brothers’ wives, chuckled.
“Where is your cut?” another woman asked. “You can’t take a picture like that. You have to have your cut on.”
I looked over to find Swayze, Trick’s wife, staring at me with her phone in her hand.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because leather and bikers go hand in hand,” she said. “If you don’t have your cut on, nobody will know that you’re in a club. And being in a club automatically ratchets up the hotness factor.”
I rolled my eyes. “It got dirty. Had to have it dry-cleaned.”
In all honesty, it got blood on it, and I’d had to douse it down with the water hose before taking it to the dry cleaners to see if they could salvage it.
If not, I might or might not need to find a new one.
I was hoping that it came out, though.
Or, at least, when I wore it, it didn’t look like I’d tie-dyed it in blood.
“Well that’s just stupid,” Swayze grumbled as she put her phone down.
“I have one from last week,” Blaise called out, pumping her fist into the air as if she’d hit the jackpot. “And he looks good in it. He’s not even scowling!”
I rolled my eyes.
“Oh, that one’s perfect. Send it to me.” Six was still typing away at the computer. “What do you think of this biography for a profile? Hobby pig farmer by day, Souls Chapel Revenant MC by night. Thirty-two-year-old man looking for a woman that isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. Anybody that can’t manage that need not reply.”
“I think we should add this…” Wyett suggested as she rattled off her idea of edits.
I sighed and sipped my beer, wondering idly how long it would take to get dinner figured out.
I was ready to go home.
Today had been long, and my fucking knuckles were aching.
Even worse, I think my back was acting up again.
I’d have to make another appointment at the chiropractor. The one that was scared of me.
Yay.
“Ohhh.” One of the ladies laughed, catching my attention.
“Oh, here’s one for you.” Six dissolved into laughter, turning the computer screen my way.
Wanted: Man to feed me Doritos so my fingers don’t get orange. No weirdos.
My ideal match: No animals, no kids, no annoying voices, doesn’t like beaches, can deal with me not talking, and doesn’t mind when I talk down to you or that I’m smarter than you. Also, it’d be ideal if you don’t like to cuddle, because my body temperature runs hot, and I don’t generally like people touching me skin to skin. Is blunt and doesn’t try to use sarcasm. Won’t try to get me to go out to places where there is a large group setting.
Again, no weirdos.
“This chick sounds like she’s perfect for you.” Six clicked on the photo, but she didn’t need to.
I’d seen the photo.
The woman was gorgeous.
Though I couldn’t see her height, I could make out other things.
She was curled up in a chair that looked like a cocoon of sorts. One with really tall sides, big, poofy cushions, and it was all hanging from a contraption from the ceiling.
She had her knees crisscrossed in front of her, and she was wearing a baggy white t-shirt, black horn-rimmed glasses, and had a book partially in front of her face.
That book happened to be one of my favorites.
Captain’s Fury by Jim Butcher.
In all honesty, that was the very first thing to catch my eye.
Her hair, which was so fuckin’ curly that I knew if I tried to run my fingers through it, they’d get caught at least a dozen times.
“She’s perfect,” Crockett declared. “Message her. But don’t make it weird. Make it… sweet.”
“Bruno’s not sweet,” one of the boys, likely Sin, called out. “Don’t make him come off as sweet. The chick will definitely know that it wasn’t him that wrote it.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Messaged her. Let’s see what she says.” Six squealed, clapping her hands.
I sighed.
“Oh, she already messaged back. Oh my God. She said, ‘Hell no.’”
My brows lifted at that.
“Oh, she’s perfect. I just know it.” Six snickered.
“Oh my God. I knew she looked familiar! That’s Belle Pena! One of my good friends! Sorry, Bruno. But there’s no way in hell that she’s going to agree to date you. She has a type,” Beckham said as she settled her son, Hiro, more firmly on her shoulder.
She looked like she was lagging, though.
I bent forward and caught the kid before Beckham, who really was interested in this whole mess, dropped her own kid.
Beckham didn’t even notice that she was giving him away to me before she was insinuating herself into the bullshit.
I tipped back the beer and settled the kid more solidly on my shoulder.
He snuggled in deep, buried his face in my neck, and promptly sneezed all down my neck.
Gross.
About the Author
Lani Lynn Vale is married to the love of her life that she met in high school. She fell in love with him because he was wearing baseball pants. Ten years later they have three perfectly crazy children and a cat named Demon who likes to wake her up at ungodly times in the night. They live in the greatest state in the world, Texas. She writes contemporary and romantic suspense, and has a love for all things romance. You can find Lani in front of her computer writing away in her fictional characters world...that is until her husband and kids demand sustenance in the form of food and drink.
Visit https://lanilynnvale.com/ for more information!
Her mind, impressive as it might be, was no match for the combination of her heart and body and their willingness to give everything she had, everything she was, to another being. To Talen.
────── ♔ ──────
Fated by Rebecca Zanetti
Standalone - Dark Protectors #1
Release - March 1, 2011
Genre - Paranormal Romance / Fated Mates
Multiple POV - 3rd person
Heat Level - 3.5 out of 5 / several scenes
Format/Source - ebook borrowed from the library / I own the paperback
Page Count - 336
Publisher - Brava
Release - March 1, 2011
Genre - Paranormal Romance / Fated Mates
Multiple POV - 3rd person
Heat Level - 3.5 out of 5 / several scenes
Format/Source - ebook borrowed from the library / I own the paperback
Page Count - 336
Publisher - Brava
Marry Me! Cara Paulsen does not give up easily. A scientist and a single mother, she's used to fighting for what she wants, keeping a cool head, and doing whatever it takes to protect her daughter Janie. But "whatever it takes" has never before included a shotgun wedding to a dangerous-looking stranger with an attitude problem.
Or Else! Sure, the mysterious Talen says that he's there to protect Cara and Janie. He also says that he's a three-hundred-year-old vampire. Of course, the way he touches her, Cara might actually believe he's had that long to practice. . .
Purchase Links
My Two Cents
Although I kind of dabbled before, I truly started my love affair with the Dark Protectors when I read Vampire's Faith. I read that story, fell in love with the world and characters this author created, and knew that I wanted more.
Reading about the next gen made me want to get to know the original heroes better. I went out, bought the paperbacks, and here we are!
And how could I not fall in love with Talen!
Alpha to the extreme, all he wanted to do was keep Cara and her daughter safe. Seriously, what guy puts his life on the line, dedicates his life to protecting someone he doesn't know... when it's not his job? And not only did he take on this duty, but he treated and cared for these two females as if they always belonged to his life. Janie was Cara's daughter, but now she was his. And nothing and no one was going to hurt them on his watch.
I really liked how this story evolved. Now that I know so much, it was fun to see these characters floundering. It's the start of the new war against the Kurjans and I had a blast seeing the Karys brothers unmated and fancy-free.
My only hangup was Cara. She drove me nuts! She was constantly fighting Talen for dominance and supremacy. Babe, you are not stronger or more capable than an immortal. Especially not an immortal who has been dealing with these enemies for centuries!!
"I can keep my daughter safe." Her eyes widened as he laughed. He actually laughed.
Just shut up dummy.
Overall, Fated gave me just what I was looking for — more depth, more plot, more action, more characters, more love.
Excerpt
Cara shook her head, dread pooling in her stomach as Janie left with the director. A slow anger began to burn away the dread. She glared at Talen. “So talk.”
He took a deep breath. “The discovery of your daughter has ended nearly four centuries of peace between my people and the Kurjus.”
“Janie? What people? The Kurjus?”
Talen pursed his lips, a frown settling between his eyes. Shrugging, he yanked a brown contact out of one eye, then the other.
“What the—” she gasped. Luminescent gold eyes glowed like molten lava. She pushed away from the table only to have Talen grasp her wrist, flattening her hand under his.
“Stay. There’s a lot more.” He smirked and rolled her chair closer.
“This is a trick.” She glared at the impossible golden hue, the heat of his hand overpowering the coolness of the table beneath her own.
“No trick, Cara. I am a protector of the Sanguisuga race.”
“Sanguisuga? Isn’t that Latin?” She’d only taken two semesters of the language.
“Yes.”
“For what?”
His grip tightened on her wrist. “Vampire.”
Cara coughed out a laugh. “You’re a vampire?” Her gaze swung to the door. Where was Janie?
Issuing another deep sigh she started to equate with him, he smiled. Two sharp canines instantly emerged.
“Oh God.” Cara struggled to yank back her hand.
“Do I need to bite you for you to believe me?” Interest and something darker wove through him, into her. She fought to block herself from his emotions.
“No. No biting.” Her mind reeled while reality spun away. “This can’t be true.” She shook her head. “But you were out in the sun. It was early, but the sun was out.” This wasn’t happening.
“The sun only bothers the Kurjans, Cara. We’re fine with a day at the beach.”
“They’re vampires, too?”
Talen shrugged. “No. They’re monsters.” His canines retracted.
“But they have fangs and drink blood?”
“Yes.”
“And you drink blood?”
“Only in extreme situations.”
“Extreme?” This couldn’t be happening.
“During a fight or sex.” He voice lowered to the growl he’d uttered just before deepening their earlier kiss. Something skittered through her belly in response.
“Oh.” Her mind flashed, unbidden, to his fangs. And sex. Her heart thumped once. Hard. “Why?” She stopped fighting. For the moment.
“Why what?” His thumb traced heated circles on the pulse point of her wrist, his golden gaze dropping to her neck.
“Why Janie? Why do they want women with odd abilities?”
Talen ran a hand over his jaw, his eyes returning to her face. “Janie’s special. You know that. Her psychic abilities are the strongest we’ve ever seen.”
Cara straightened her spine. As fear cascaded down it. “But how do you know? How did they find her?”
Talen scowled. “Both races can sense such abilities in humans, but we need to be in close proximity to do so. We don’t know how they found Janie. It could’ve been a fluke, but I doubt it.”
“How did you find us?”
“We have sources in the Meridoze gang, we heard about the extraction plan just in time.”
Cara stamped down on the panic fighting to rise. “Your peace has ended?”
“Yes. We were at war for hundreds of years until we both suffered too many losses. A treaty was signed prohibiting any contact with humans.” Talen shrugged. “Peace lasted much longer than anyone predicted.”
Cara narrowed her eyes. “You don’t sound sorry peace is over.”
Deceptively normal canines flashed in a grin. “We were made to fight. Plus, living amongst you, yet having no contact has been difficult. We need humans.” Golden heat ran over her face.
“For blood.” Nausea rose within her.
“That too.” His voice lowered.
Everything in her stilled, and even her heart may have stopped for a second. She lacked the focus to block the feelings coming from him now. “What else?” Her voice cracked.
“Both races are born male. Only. Our mates are human. And Cara,” his voice dropped to a rumble, “you’re mine.”
He took a deep breath. “The discovery of your daughter has ended nearly four centuries of peace between my people and the Kurjus.”
“Janie? What people? The Kurjus?”
Talen pursed his lips, a frown settling between his eyes. Shrugging, he yanked a brown contact out of one eye, then the other.
“What the—” she gasped. Luminescent gold eyes glowed like molten lava. She pushed away from the table only to have Talen grasp her wrist, flattening her hand under his.
“Stay. There’s a lot more.” He smirked and rolled her chair closer.
“This is a trick.” She glared at the impossible golden hue, the heat of his hand overpowering the coolness of the table beneath her own.
“No trick, Cara. I am a protector of the Sanguisuga race.”
“Sanguisuga? Isn’t that Latin?” She’d only taken two semesters of the language.
“Yes.”
“For what?”
His grip tightened on her wrist. “Vampire.”
Cara coughed out a laugh. “You’re a vampire?” Her gaze swung to the door. Where was Janie?
Issuing another deep sigh she started to equate with him, he smiled. Two sharp canines instantly emerged.
“Oh God.” Cara struggled to yank back her hand.
“Do I need to bite you for you to believe me?” Interest and something darker wove through him, into her. She fought to block herself from his emotions.
“No. No biting.” Her mind reeled while reality spun away. “This can’t be true.” She shook her head. “But you were out in the sun. It was early, but the sun was out.” This wasn’t happening.
“The sun only bothers the Kurjans, Cara. We’re fine with a day at the beach.”
“They’re vampires, too?”
Talen shrugged. “No. They’re monsters.” His canines retracted.
“But they have fangs and drink blood?”
“Yes.”
“And you drink blood?”
“Only in extreme situations.”
“Extreme?” This couldn’t be happening.
“During a fight or sex.” He voice lowered to the growl he’d uttered just before deepening their earlier kiss. Something skittered through her belly in response.
“Oh.” Her mind flashed, unbidden, to his fangs. And sex. Her heart thumped once. Hard. “Why?” She stopped fighting. For the moment.
“Why what?” His thumb traced heated circles on the pulse point of her wrist, his golden gaze dropping to her neck.
“Why Janie? Why do they want women with odd abilities?”
Talen ran a hand over his jaw, his eyes returning to her face. “Janie’s special. You know that. Her psychic abilities are the strongest we’ve ever seen.”
Cara straightened her spine. As fear cascaded down it. “But how do you know? How did they find her?”
Talen scowled. “Both races can sense such abilities in humans, but we need to be in close proximity to do so. We don’t know how they found Janie. It could’ve been a fluke, but I doubt it.”
“How did you find us?”
“We have sources in the Meridoze gang, we heard about the extraction plan just in time.”
Cara stamped down on the panic fighting to rise. “Your peace has ended?”
“Yes. We were at war for hundreds of years until we both suffered too many losses. A treaty was signed prohibiting any contact with humans.” Talen shrugged. “Peace lasted much longer than anyone predicted.”
Cara narrowed her eyes. “You don’t sound sorry peace is over.”
Deceptively normal canines flashed in a grin. “We were made to fight. Plus, living amongst you, yet having no contact has been difficult. We need humans.” Golden heat ran over her face.
“For blood.” Nausea rose within her.
“That too.” His voice lowered.
Everything in her stilled, and even her heart may have stopped for a second. She lacked the focus to block the feelings coming from him now. “What else?” Her voice cracked.
“Both races are born male. Only. Our mates are human. And Cara,” his voice dropped to a rumble, “you’re mine.”
About the Author
Rebecca Zanetti is the author of over forty romantic suspense, dark paranormals, and contemporary romances, and her books have appeared multiple times on the New York Times, USA Today, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and iBooks bestseller lists. She lives in the wilds of the Pacific Northwest with her own Alpha hero, two kids, a couple of dogs, a crazy cat…and a huge extended family. She believes strongly in luck, karma, and working her butt off…and she thinks one of the best things about being an author, unlike the lawyer she used to be, is that she can let the crazy out. Upcoming series are: The Blood Brothers, The Realm Enforcers and The Scorpius Syndrome.
Visit https://rebeccazanetti.com/ for more information!
Her pleasure was his
and his was hers
and then his again.
and his was hers
and then his again.
────── ♔ ──────
Immortal Angel by Lynsay Sands
Standalone - Argeneau #31
Release - September 29, 2020
Genre - Paranormal Romance / fated mates
Dual POV - 3rd person
Heat Level - 3.5 out of 5 / a few scenes
Format/Source - ebook borrowed from the library
Page Count - 384
Publisher - Avon
Release - September 29, 2020
Genre - Paranormal Romance / fated mates
Dual POV - 3rd person
Heat Level - 3.5 out of 5 / a few scenes
Format/Source - ebook borrowed from the library
Page Count - 384
Publisher - Avon
For almost two centuries, Ildaria Garcia has been on the run, a trouble magnet with a knack for taking down bad guys. Lately, her vigilante tendencies have drawn unwelcome attention to her fellow Immortals. Forced to relocate, Ildaria is supposed to lay low in a new town. Instead, she quickly entangles herself with six and a half feet of muscular, tattooed trouble.
Joshua James Simpson Guiscard, aka G.G., knows a lot about Immortals—enough to make him wary. Yet from the moment Ildaria walks into his club, he feels desire stronger than anything he’s known. Accepting the fact that they might be life mates is disconcerting. But when her past catches up to them, G.G. faces a choice—confront his demons at last, or lose a passion that’s hot as hell.
Purchase Links
My Two Cents
I've found a new passion for PNR and because of this, I've got recommendations coming at me from pretty much everywhere. And I'm loving it!!
Lynsay Sands is an author that comes up quite a lot on my what-to-read next list so I thought I'd give her a try. Not only did I borrow this book from the library, I also bought a copy of Immortal Nights from Book Outlet. I'm determined to get through what I'm told are some amazing books!
I found Immortal Angel to be a surprising read. I went in with some expectations and some were met... others were not. I figured based on the cover that there would be tons of action, but aside from the very beginning, when Ildaria was going all vigilante, there was no action to be found. It was over and done with pretty quickly, which was a disappointment, however, I enjoyed the romance build and finding out some bits about the Immortal world these characters live in.
Was the concept of these people being vampire supposed to be so vague? They drink blood, they have enhancements, but the word vampire seemed to be something to be avoided. I'm not sure whether I liked that or not.
I thought that the relationship that grew between Ildaria and G.G. was cute, sweet, sexy and ridiculous (at times). I loved meeting all of the characters, I loved the romance, and only wished for something more. The author put a lot of effort into creating Ildaria's back story, which was truly tragic, and I was entertained by G.G.'s reluctance to be turned into an Immortal. I'm not sure what I wanted to be different aside from some action. It just ended up being an okay read for me.
Part of me hopes that Juan finds his true life mate. I felt bad for the guy and I want him to be caught up in happiness too.
I'm looking forward to getting through this author's backlist and falling in love with her characters!
Excerpt
Chapter One
“Professor Straithe is late.”
“Si , but he’s always late,” Ildaria pointed out as she pulled her notebook and a pen from her knapsack and then set the bag on the floor next to her seat.
“Yeah, but he’s really late tonight,” Lydia responded and then added eagerly, “Five more minutes and he’ll be fifteen minutes late. Then we can leave. Class will be canceled and we can hit a bar or something.”
Ildaria shrugged as she opened her notebook to a clean page and predicted, “He’ll walk in one minute before the fifteen-minute point and we’ll be stuck here. He’s done it several times this semester.”
“Yes, he has,” Lydia agreed, sounding deflated now, and then her tone turning irritated she added, “It’s a night class for cripes sake, not a morning class he has to drag his butt out of bed for, yet the man is always late.” She scowled and then muttered bitterly, “And then he’s a boring lecturer when he finally does get here. I swear if he weren’t such a hunk, I’d hate him.”
Ildaria chuckled at the claim. She doubted Lydia had it in her to hate anyone. The woman was just too kind. It was one of the things she liked about her.
“Oh myyyy. What have we here?”
Eyebrows rising, Ildaria glanced around and followed Lydia’s gaze to the top of the tiered lecture hall where two men now stood just inside the door. Both were tall and muscular, dressed in black T-shirts, black jeans, and black leather boots. They were carbon copies of each other . . . from the neck down. Only their faces and hair coloring differed. The Nordic blond had sharp features and an aquiline nose, while the dark-haired man had blunter features. Both were gorgeous. Both also looked lean, mean, and dangerous as they surveyed the class, obviously looking for someone.
“No books, no bags . . . They can’t be students,” Lydia commented, ogling the pair, and then she suggested, “Ooooh, maybe they’re new TAs.”
She was probably already planning on requesting after hours help, Ildaria thought on a sigh and muttered, “Or bloodsucking putas here to execute someone.”
“What?” Lydia turned on her with amusement, but Ildaria just shook her head and stared at the two men, her thoughts racing. She knew exactly who they were—Valerian and Tybo were Enforcers—or rogue hunters as her kind liked to call them. The immortal version of police, sent out by the Immortal Council to hunt down rogue immortals who had been misbehaving. Normal people, or mortals, like Lydia, would have called them vampire hunters if she had any idea that immortals existed. But Lydia didn’t know that.
“What are you doing?” Lydia asked with amazement as she watched her snatch up her bag from the floor and unzip it. “You don’t know those guys, do you?”
Mouth tightening, Ildaria didn’t respond. Instead, she quickly shoved her notebook and pen inside.
“You do know them,” Lydia gasped with mounting excitement. “Oh. You have to introduce me to them.”
“Trust me. You don’t want to meet them. They’re trouble,” Ildaria said bitterly, wondering if she’d be executed at once, or have to wait around for a Council trial before the deed was done.
“The most interesting men are always trouble,” Lydia assured her, gathering her own books with the obvious intention of joining her to meet the men.
Ildaria didn’t waste her breath trying to dissuade her again. Instead, she simply said, “Stay here,” and slipped into the girl’s mind to make her stay. When Lydia immediately relaxed back in her seat and turned to face the front of the class, Ildaria stood, slung her bag over her shoulder and scooted sideways along the row of occupied seats until she reached the stairs. She ascended them quickly, keeping her expression blank now that she was facing the men. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of showing her worry and fear.
Tybo and Valerian didn’t say a word when she joined them. They merely took up position on either side of her to escort her from the lecture hall and then the building.
It wasn’t until they were outside, walking the dark path toward the parking lot that Tybo spoke.
“You couldn’t resist, could you?”
Ildaria’s shoulders hunched instinctively in a protective move, but she forced them straight again and said firmly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“You’ve been playing vigilante again,” he accused.
“I haven’t,” Ildaria assured him.
“You were caught on video tossing around some big bastard twice your size,” Valerian informed her, joining the conversation as they reached the parking lot. “It was uploaded onto Twitter or Instagram or something where Mortimer found it. He showed it to Lucian.”
Ildaria sucked in an alarmed breath at that, but insisted, “I wasn’t playing vigilante.” Unsure which incident had been caught on film, she added, “I was walking to my car after class, heard a girl scream and tried to help. What was I supposed to do? Just ignore it?”
“Yes,” Tybo said with exasperation.
Stopping, Ildaria turned on him with disbelief. “So you would have just ignored a woman screaming for help?”
Tybo’s eyes shifted away, telling her that he wouldn’t, but then his gaze returned to her, and he said, “Well, maybe I couldn’t have ignored it, but I sure as hell would have made sure I didn’t get caught on video if I did.”
Ildaria opened her mouth to respond, but paused and glanced to the side instead, when a woman’s scream sounded. Her eyes widened with dismay when she saw a struggling, young female being dragged toward the open door of a van at the far end of the parking lot. Ildaria had barely recognized that she was witnessing an abduction when Tybo and Valerian charged past her, racing for the other end of the parking lot at speed. Immortal speed. Inhuman speed.
Instinct almost had Ildaria charging after them, but Tybo’s words were still ringing in her head: Well, maybe I couldn’t have ignored it, but I sure as hell would have made sure I didn’t get caught on video if I did.
Her gaze slid around the parking lot, noting a few other university students around. There were still more nearer the buildings. Some of them were alone, some in pairs, some in clusters. Several had started forward as if to help, but were now slowing as they saw Tybo and Valerian charging in. The rest were raising their cell phones. Some were probably just taking pictures, but others were undoubtedly videotaping and there were probably still others that she couldn’t see who were doing both. Such was the world today. Camera phones had changed everything, she thought with a shake of the head, and then Tybo’s words slid through her mind again.
I sure as hell would have made sure I didn’t get caught on video if I did.
Snorting under her breath, Ildaria stayed where she was, pulled out her cell phone, and began to record too.
By the time the excitement was over, and Tybo and Valerian had handed the culprit over to the campus police and the young woman to the care of the EMTs, Ildaria’s phone was back in her pocket and she was leaning against their black SUV, waiting. She knew it was theirs because the license plate was RogueH4.
When they reached her, she commented mildly, “So, you can’t ignore a woman in trouble any more than I can.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Tybo muttered, exchanging a chagrined glance with Valerian as he pulled out his key fob and hit the button to unlock the SUV doors.
“Did you notice all the people videotaping?” she asked next.
Both men stopped dead at her words and turned to look around the parking lot. Many of the witnesses who had been filming were gone now, most leaving when the campus police had arrived. But there were still a few watching them with phones out, still recording.
“Damn,” Tybo growled.
Valerian sighed and said, “You take the two on the right side of the parking lot, and I’ll—”
“Don’t bother,” Ildaria interrupted as the pair started to move. “It’s already been uploaded to the net at least once.”
When both of their heads swiveled toward her with alarm, she smiled sweetly. “I tagged Lucian Argeneau on mine. He’s probably looking at it right now.”
“Ah, crap,” Tybo muttered.
“Now you know how I feel,” she said grimly and turned to get into the SUV, leaving them to follow at their leisure. When she finished doing up her seat belt and glanced out, she saw that the two men were still standing beside the vehicle, but with their phones out now. Looking for the video, she supposed with amusement and guessed they’d found at least one version of it when they both began to curse.
Releasing a satisfied little sigh, she leaned back in her seat to wait for them to get over their upset and take her to Lucian. Oddly enough, they didn’t seem as eager to get her there as they had been when they’d pulled her from class. It was a very quiet ride to the Enforcer house, with a lot of angry and accusing glares cast her way.
About the Author
LYNSAY SANDS is the nationally bestselling author who is known for her hysterical historicals as well as the popular Argeneau/Rogue Hunter vampire series. With her witty and charming personality, Sands describes books as, “Waking dreams or stories, tales to amuse, entertain and distract us from everyday life.” She’s been writing stories since grade school and considers herself incredibly lucky to be able to make a career out of it. Her hope is that readers can get away from their everyday stress through her stories, and if there are occasional uncontrollable fits of laughter, that’s just a big bonus.
Visit http://www.lynsaysands.net/ for more information
Hey everyone and welcome to another recap of whatever the heck I'm reading! October is done and my family and I experienced the weirdest Halloween yet. No trick-or-treating, no costumes, plenty of treats :)
Once again, I spent the month reading whatever I wanted. Whether it was ARCs I couldn't help but request or accept, books I bought, borrowed or received, I had a blast reading. It was such a great month for me. While I didn't read many books, what I did get through, I loved!
So here's what October looked like for me book-wise:
Total Books read: 9
Total Pages read: 3281
DNFs: 0
From my TBR: 2
Avg rating: 3.89 stars
All the Books
My favorite book of the month was...
However, the other books I read were also awesome, which were...
Chalk Dirty to Me by Lani Lynn Vale
Scarred by Ari Reavis
Marked for Seduction by S.J. Rowe
A Shadow in the Reaping by Brynne Weaver
To Kiss a Demon by Stephanie Rowe
Darkness Awakened by Stephanie Rowe
A Hunger Like No Other by Kresley Cole
Dream Keeper by Kristen Ashley
Chalk Dirty to Me by Lani Lynn Vale
Scarred by Ari Reavis
Marked for Seduction by S.J. Rowe
A Shadow in the Reaping by Brynne Weaver
To Kiss a Demon by Stephanie Rowe
Darkness Awakened by Stephanie Rowe
A Hunger Like No Other by Kresley Cole
Dream Keeper by Kristen Ashley
Book Haul
I think this was the first time I didn't break the bank buying books in a month!
One book! I'm so proud of myself!!
One book! I'm so proud of myself!!
Added to my tbr
And here's where things get interesting. I added a total of ZERO books to my tbr. What?!
What are you looking forward to for November? I hope it's as incredible as we deserve it to be!
Talk soon,
Talk soon,
xo, Natalie
In my rage, I find my solace.
In my rage, I vanquish my despair.
In my rage, I vanquish my despair.
────── ♔ ──────
The Field of Wrongdoing by Lili St. Germain
Standalone
Release - October 12, 2021
Genre - Psychological Thriller
Multiple POV - 1st person
Heat Level - 3.5 out of 5 / several scenes
Format/Source - ebook purchase from Amazon
Page Count - 337
Publisher - Level 4 Press, Inc.
Release - October 12, 2021
Genre - Psychological Thriller
Multiple POV - 1st person
Heat Level - 3.5 out of 5 / several scenes
Format/Source - ebook purchase from Amazon
Page Count - 337
Publisher - Level 4 Press, Inc.
How well can you really know someone?
The smallest towns hold the darkest secrets. And the people you least suspect are the ones you should fear the most.
When Cassie’s friend disappears, Cassie knows all too well the tragic end Jennifer has probably met. After all, Cassie is the one who found the last murdered girl in the field on her boyfriend Leo’s property nine years ago.
She never believed the love of her life was capable of such a brutal crime. Not even after Leo went to prison for an unrelated crime. But now he’s back, released on parole, and another girl has gone missing . . .
USA Today bestselling author Lili St. Germain delivers a terrifying, unpredictable thrill ride that explores how far one woman is willing to go to discover the truth - and the brutal betrayals she unearths along the way.
Purchase Links
My Two Cents
I pre-ordered this book because... Lili St. Germain and I love (read that: lu-uh-uh-uh-ove love) this author.
And as I was reading, I realized this story was very familiar to me. It was dirty and depraved and depressing and disgusting and oh so good... but it was familiar.
And then I found out that it used to be titled Gun Shy, which I read back in 2017. And it was just as amazing now as it was then. You can check out my review for that HERE.
So what can I offer that's new? Wouldn't it be hilarious if I was just as blind this time as I was before? Well, go ahead and laugh because I still had no clue!
I loved that!
Like stories that keep you guessing? Stories that are full of darkness and heartache? Read. This. Book!!
About the Author
Lili is a USA Today bestselling hybrid author who has sold over a million books since January 2014. After the success of her self-published Gypsy Brothers series, she was approached by HarperCollins Publishers, who signed her CARTEL series in a three-book deal. The Gypsy Brothers series focuses on a morally bankrupt biker gang and the girl who seeks her vengeance upon them. The Cartel series is a prequel trilogy of full-length novels that explores the beginnings of the club, to be released in 2015 by HarperCollins.
Aside from writing, her other loves in life include her gorgeous husband and beautiful daughter, good coffee, Tarantino movies and spending hours on Instagram. She loves to read almost as much as she loves to write.
Lili is represented by Amy Tannenbaum at the Jane Rotrosen Agency.
You can reach her at lili@lilisaintgermain.com
You belong to me, Farryn. Should another man dare to lay so much as a finger on you, I will flay his hand and shine my boots with his skin.
────── ♔ ──────
Nightshade by Keri Lake
Hopefully book 1
Release - October 29, 2021
Genre - Dark Paranormal Gothic romance / fated mates
Multiple POV - 1st and 3rd person
Heat Level - 3.5 / slow slow slow burn and a few scenes
Format/Source - eARC provided by the author (Thank you @ Give Me Books PR)
Page Count - 664
Publisher - Indie
Release - October 29, 2021
Genre - Dark Paranormal Gothic romance / fated mates
Multiple POV - 1st and 3rd person
Heat Level - 3.5 / slow slow slow burn and a few scenes
Format/Source - eARC provided by the author (Thank you @ Give Me Books PR)
Page Count - 664
Publisher - Indie
A love so forbidden, it would shake the heavens ...
My father called them messengers.
He once told me they walked among us, and that somewhere in this dark and godless city, there shined a faint sliver of hope. I had only to look for the signs.
Well, I’ve spent my whole life investigating the inexplicable, and all I've found are the unsettling vestiges of iniquity - the evidence of another world shrouded by the obscure. Purgatory to some, where depravity hides in shadows, and girls like me are little more than delicious bites of temptation.
Others call it Nightshade.
This peculiar place is where I first met the cold and callous recluse living in a decaying cliffside cathedral. Jericho Van Croix is the epitome of everything I’ve been told to fear. A raven-winged harbinger who wears intrigue like a warm black cloak. An enigma that I’m determined to unravel – even if it means getting closer than I should.
One touch is forbidden. Even so much as a kiss would be my demise. But the sin on his lips burns me up like a wild flame, and his growing infatuation weakens my resolve.
Giving him what he wants, though, will mean no chance for redemption, or escape. What's worse is, the signs I’ve followed yet failed to see all these years begin to unmask a terrifying reality:
That falling may be my only saving grace.
Purchase Links
My Two Cents
This read exactly as advertised! Just hearing about this story in the Vigilante Vixens group had me hungry... and I'm still ravenous because I want more Jericho Van Croix!!
Standing across from me, with the bolts of lightning at his back, the storm that still raged around us never once ruffling the feathers of his wings, he was sublime. Chaotic. Dissonance in the flesh. Both terrifying and incredible at the same time.
Nightshade was dark and depraved. Gothic and gruesome. Dirty and a bit disgusting. Nightshade was utterly delicious!!
Who knew reading over 600 pages of gothic PNR would be just what I needed?
I can't even give you anything about the plot or characters without giving some vital piece of this story away. Know that Jericho is an immortal who would make any woman want to be deserving of him. I love my soul, but... And Farryn was as annoying as any almost virginal, somewhat pure female would be, but she had a knack for hitting all of the right notes with me. So while she frustrated me, she made me cheer her on. While she had me rolling my eyes hard, she also made me smile and hope and dream.
I could have done without the extremely slow build, but then again, this story probably wouldn't have worked as well as it did if it were any faster. The world building was seriously on point!
Guessing the truth is easy, but knowing the truth, living the truth, understanding the truth... I'm still unsure what the truth really is. I'm kinda loving this opaque bubble I'm living in right now.
I want more.
I need more.
GIVE ME MORE!!
The end?
Excerpt
“It’s supposed to storm tonight. I’ve been told it’s dangerous up here when there’s lightning.” Hand in his, I let him guide me up the tower’s narrow, stone stairwell, lit only by the few flickering lamps that hung from the brackets on the wall.
Grip tightening as if I might try to get away, he glanced over his shoulder at me. “You’ve nothing to worry about.”
The stairwell opened up to beams and scaffolds, moving gears and the tired sounds they made. We hit a magnificent landing en route toward the bell at the tower's pinnacle, where the back end of the clock’s enormous hands ticked off the seconds in mocking. Counting down the end of innocence. I’d heard the vague rumors of the things that happened to girls in the bell tower. The utter depravity held mostly secret by its ancient walls.
“How can you be so sure?” I asked, stalling at a window, through which a cloud of lightning gave an ominous flicker over the black sea below.
His firm hand gripped me possessively, and before I even realized he’d changed direction, he backed me into the wall. Capricious as the wind that rapped against the window, he fixed his attentions on me, the chilled stones at my back a reminder that there was no escaping him.
The gentle brush of his knuckles down my cheek belied the shadow of malice that slipped behind his otherwise cold, inscrutable eye. “Because I’m so unreasonably rapacious when it comes to you, Miss Ravenshaw, that not even a bolt of lightning should dare touch your skin without consequence.”
In that moment, the thunder seemed more distant, somehow, or perhaps it was the incessant thump of my heart drowning it out.
“You’re jealous of lightning?”
He leaned in closer, the delicious scent of bergamot and licorice as intoxicating as the warm absinthe still pulsing through my veins. His lips traced a featherlight path along my jaw. Teeth grazed my earlobe, breath hot against my neck, as he whispered, “I’m jealous of anything that occupies your mind so unremittingly when you’re with me.”
About the Author
Keri Lake is a dark romance writer who specializes in demon wrangling, vengeance dealing and wicked twists. Her stories are gritty, with antiheroes that walk the line of good and bad, and feisty heroines who bring them to their knees. When not penning books, she enjoys spending time with her husband, daughters, and their rebellious Labrador (who doesn’t retrieve a damn thing). She runs on strong coffee and alternative music, loves a good red wine, and has a slight addiction to dark chocolate.
Website: http://www.kerilake.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/kerilakeauthor
Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/KeriLakeVigilantes
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/kerilake
Instagram: http://www.instagram.com/kerilake
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/HJPHH
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/kerilakeauthor
Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/KeriLakeVigilantes
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/kerilake
Instagram: http://www.instagram.com/kerilake
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/HJPHH
Auggie was the impossible dream.
────── ♔ ──────
Dream Keeper by Kristen Ashley
Standalone - Dream Team #4
Release - November 30, 2021
Genre - Contemporary Romance / military / unrequited
Multiple POV - 1st and 3rd person
Heat Level - 3 / a few scenes
Format/Source - eARC provided by the publisher
Page Count - 544
Publisher - Forever
Release - November 30, 2021
Genre - Contemporary Romance / military / unrequited
Multiple POV - 1st and 3rd person
Heat Level - 3 / a few scenes
Format/Source - eARC provided by the publisher
Page Count - 544
Publisher - Forever
Pepper Hannigan is determined to keep any romance off the table—and out of her bedroom—while her daughter Juno is still young. Sure, a certain handsome commando is thoughtful, funny, and undeniably hot, but Pepper’s had her heart broken before, and she won’t let it happen again. Not to her or her little girl, even if this hero could melt any woman’s resolve.
Augustus “Auggie” Hero can’t deny his attraction to beautiful, warm-hearted Pepper or how much he wants to make a home with her and her little girl, but Pepper’s mixed signals have kept him away. That is, until Juno decides to play matchmaker. Her efforts finally bring Pepper into his arms, but they expose the danger Pepper is in. To protect Pepper and Juno, Auggie will have to live up to his last name and prove happy endings aren’t just for fairy tales.
Purchase Links
My Two Cents
Oh wow... it was all about Auggie for me!!
KA has such a talent with creating Alpha heroes with hearts of gold. This man... THIS MAN!! He had far more patience than was warranted. Honestly... I kinda wanted him to give up and move on. C'mon, if I had a friend who was basically pining for someone who repeatedly shut him down, then let him in, only to tell him HE was a mistake... yeah, I'd tell him to let her go.
But Auggie persevered and I couldn't knock the man for trying because it eventually pays off. And I can't lie, I enjoyed the makings of what Auggie and Pepper built.
Don't even get me started on how much sunshine little Juno brought to this story. The idea of The Parent Trap was so sweet and I loved how Mr. Brett Cisco got happily roped in. When am I getting a story for this man?! He needs a happy ending STAT!!
Dream Keeper gave me so much of what I needed!
❥ a hero to make my heart sing
❥ a heroine who drove me nuts and yet made me cheer her on
❥ a sweetheart of a child who seemed to be wise beyond her years
❥ side characters who were once main characters who continue to be fun characters
❥ Brett in all of his glory. Seriously, this dude needs to find the love of his life. PLEASE!
❥ I even had a little somethin' somethin' for Pepper's ex. Is it wrong of me to want this man to find some forever happiness too?
Great writing as always. Great story. And a wealth of emotion. That's what I got with this book. If I wasn't aggravated, I was smiling. If I wasn't frustrated, I was weepy. If I wasn't annoyed, I was swooning. Sweet and charming and full of KA pizzazz (yeah, that's me using the word), Dream Keeper is a must-read for lovers of romance.
About the Author
Kristen Ashley is the New York Times bestselling author of over sixty romance novels including the Rock Chick, Colorado Mountain, Dream Man, Chaos, Unfinished Hero, The ’Burg, Magdalene, Fantasyland, The Three, Ghost and Reincarnation, Moonlight and Motor Oil and Honey series along with several standalone novels. She’s a hybrid author, publishing titles both independently and traditionally, her books have been translated in fourteen languages and she’s sold over three million books.
Kristen, born in Gary and raised in Brownsburg, Indiana, was a fourth-generation graduate of Purdue University. Since, she has lived in Denver, the West Country of England, and now she resides in Phoenix. She worked as a charity executive for eighteen years prior to beginning her independent publishing career. She currently writes full-time.
Visit https://www.kristenashley.net/ for more information
For more than a thousand years, he'd searched for her.
And he'd found her in what he despised with a hatred so virulent he couldn't control it.
A vampire. The way she existed disgusted him. Her weakness disgusted him. Her pale body was too small, too thin, and looked like she'd break with her first stiff f--cking.
He'd waited a millennium for a helpless parasite.
And he'd found her in what he despised with a hatred so virulent he couldn't control it.
A vampire. The way she existed disgusted him. Her weakness disgusted him. Her pale body was too small, too thin, and looked like she'd break with her first stiff f--cking.
He'd waited a millennium for a helpless parasite.
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A Hunger Like No Other by Kresley Cole
Standalone - Immortals After Dark #1
Genre - Paranormal Romance / vamp + shifter
Multiple POV - 3rd person
Heat Level - 3.5 / a few scenes
Format/Source - ebook purchase from Amazon
Page Count - 384
Publisher - Pocket Books
Genre - Paranormal Romance / vamp + shifter
Multiple POV - 3rd person
Heat Level - 3.5 / a few scenes
Format/Source - ebook purchase from Amazon
Page Count - 384
Publisher - Pocket Books
A mythic warrior who'll stop at nothing to possess her...
After enduring years of torture from the vampire horde, Lachlain MacRieve, leader of the Lykae Clan, is enraged to find the predestined mate he's waited millennia for is a vampire. Or partly one. This Emmaline is a small, ethereal half Valkyrie/half vampire, who somehow begins to soothe the fury burning within him.
A vampire captured by her wildest fantasy...
Sheltered Emmaline Troy finally sets out to uncover the truth about her deceased parents—until a powerful Lykae claims her as his mate and forces her back to his ancestral Scottish castle. There, her fear of the Lykae—and their notorious dark desires—ebbs as he begins a slow, wicked seduction to sate her own dark cravings.
An all-consuming desire...
Yet when an ancient evil from her past resurfaces, will their desire deepen into a love that can bring a proud warrior to his knees and turn a gentle beauty into the fighter she was born to be?
Find A Hunger Like No Other here: Goodreads / Amazon
My Two Cents
As much as Emma was running away from her destiny, especially the one she shared with Lachlain, I was feeling like she needed to pass her duties right on to me!
I would not and will not deny Mr. Lachlain MacRieve a dang thing! He's so delicious!!
You wanna kiss? Here are my lips.
You wanna touch? What should I use? Hands, toes, mouth, other...
You wanna bang? Tell me when and where.
Mated forever? Where the frick do I sign up???
Seriously.
I want to say that I enjoyed the tension that existed between Lachlain and Emma. Whenever there's miscommunication (or no communication), it can be quite good, amping up the heat, or it can be bad, making it an ordeal to get through. I'm still not sure which side I'm on. I do think it dragged on for far too long and I was begging for the romance to begin.
It was slow building, but there was plenty of foreplay, although it was kinda dubiously consented to. I don't know what to even think about it.
And don't even get me started on the Valkyries and their utter nonsense. Fun, but crazy. Wild, but insane. Gorgeous, but deadly. And utterly ridiculous!
Emma was like a lost girl. Half Valkyrie and half vampire, she didn't really belong anywhere. But she was raised by the Valkyries and they were the best of the best. All she wanted was to deserve their love. To be as honorable, as courageous, as fierce as they were. And yet, for most of the book, she was just rude, disrespectful, inconsiderate, and trifling.
Honestly, I couldn't stand Emma for most of this story. Lachlain... dude could do no wrong. He was away from society for over a century. He was tortured for over a century. What was Emma's excuse?
But then we got close to the end... and Emma became magnificent! Her perceived fragility and weakness gave way to a female who grew her own version of strength. And let's be honest... it was Lachlain who got her to see and reveal her best self.
My favorite moments came when these characters found clarity. When they were able to get past their preconceived notions and assumptions and get to the heart of each other. Lachlain was able to see the warrior within Emma and she was able to constantly challenge his bias against "leeches". And he just stayed being awesome, steadily working away and obliterating her walls.
So what did I think? I loved this story. I'm loving this series and I will be continuing to enjoy all of these characters!
“My ideal man? He’d have to be considerate, easygoing, and well-mannered.
Above all, he’d need to treat me like a queen.”
—Emmaline Troy, aka Emma the Timid, half vampire half Valkyrie
“Never run from one such as me, female.
You will no’ get away—and we like it.”
—Lachlain MacRieve, King of the Lykae
Above all, he’d need to treat me like a queen.”
—Emmaline Troy, aka Emma the Timid, half vampire half Valkyrie
“Never run from one such as me, female.
You will no’ get away—and we like it.”
—Lachlain MacRieve, King of the Lykae
You should definitely check out the first book of the series:
Myst and Wroth were a blast!!
Excerpt
Sometimes the fire that licks the skin from his bones dies down.
It is his fire. In a recess of his mind still capable of rational thought, he believes this. His fire because he’s fed it for centuries with his destroyed body and decaying mind.
Long ago—and who knows how much time has toiled past—the Vampire Horde trapped him in these catacombs deep beneath Paris. He stands chained against a rock, pinned at two places on each limb and once around his neck. Before him—an opening into hell that spews fire.
Here he waits and suffers, offered to a column of fire that may weaken but is never-ending—never-ending, just like his life. His existence is to burn to death repeatedly, only to have his dogged immortality revive him again.
Detailed fantasies of retribution have gotten him this far; nursing the rage in his heart is all he has.
Until her.
Over the centuries, he has sometimes heard uncanny new things in the streets above, occasionally smelled Paris changing seasons. But now he has scented her, his mate, the one woman made for him alone.
The one woman he’d searched for without cease for a thousand years—up until the day of his capture.
The flames have ebbed. At this moment, she lingers somewhere above. It is enough. One arm strains against its bonds until the thick metal cuts into his skin. Blood drips, then pours. Every muscle in his weakened body works in concert, striving to do what he’s never been able to for an eternity before. For her, he can do this. He must … . His yell turns to a choking cough as he rips two bonds free.
He doesn’t have time to disbelieve what he’s accomplished. She is so close, he can almost feel her. Need her. Another arm wrenches free.
With both hands he clenches the metal biting into his neck, vaguely remembering the day the thick, long pin was hammered into place. He knows its two ends are embedded at least three feet down. His strength is waning, but nothing will stop him when she’s so close. In a rush of rock and dust, the metal comes loose, the recoil making him fling it across the cavernous space.
He yanks at the bond wrapped tight around his thigh. He wrests it and the one at his ankle free, then begins on the last two holding his other leg. Already envisioning his escape, not even glancing down, he pulls. Nothing. Brows drawn in confusion, he tries again. Straining, groaning with desperation. Nothing.
Her scent is fading—there is no time. He pitilessly regards his trapped leg. Imagining how he can bury himself in her and forget the pain, he reaches above his knee with shaking hands. Yearning for that oblivion within her, he attempts to crack the bone. His weakness ensures that this takes half a dozen tries.
His claws slice his skin and muscle, but the nerve running the length of his femur is taut as a piano wire. When he even nears it, unimaginable pain stabs up its length and explodes in his upper body, making his vision go black.
Too weak. Bleeding too freely. The fire will build again soon. The vampires return periodically. Will he lose her just when he’s found her?
“Never,” he grates. He surrenders himself to the beast inside him, the beast that will take its freedom with its teeth, drink water from the gutters and scavenge refuse to survive. He sees the frenzied amputation as though watching a misery from a distance.
Crawling from his torture, abandoning his leg, he pulls himself through the shadows of the dank catacombs until he spies a passageway. Ever watchful for his enemies, he creeps through the bones littering the floor to reach it. He has no idea how far it is to escape, but he finds his way—and the strength—by following her scent. He regrets the pain he will give her. She will be so connected to him, she’ll feel his suffering and horror as her own.
It can’t be helped. He is escaping. Doing his part. Can she save him from his memories when his skin still burns?
He finally inches his way to the surface, then into a darkened alley. But her scent has faltered.
Fate has given her to him when he needs her most, and God help him—and this city—if he can’t find her. His brutality had been legendary, and he will unleash it without measure for her.
He fights to sit up against a wall. Clawing tracks into the brick street, he struggles to calm his ragged breaths so he can scent her once more.
Need her. Bury myself in her. Waited so long … .
Her scent is gone.
His eyes go wet and he shudders violently at the loss. An anguished roar makes the city tremble.
It is his fire. In a recess of his mind still capable of rational thought, he believes this. His fire because he’s fed it for centuries with his destroyed body and decaying mind.
Long ago—and who knows how much time has toiled past—the Vampire Horde trapped him in these catacombs deep beneath Paris. He stands chained against a rock, pinned at two places on each limb and once around his neck. Before him—an opening into hell that spews fire.
Here he waits and suffers, offered to a column of fire that may weaken but is never-ending—never-ending, just like his life. His existence is to burn to death repeatedly, only to have his dogged immortality revive him again.
Detailed fantasies of retribution have gotten him this far; nursing the rage in his heart is all he has.
Until her.
Over the centuries, he has sometimes heard uncanny new things in the streets above, occasionally smelled Paris changing seasons. But now he has scented her, his mate, the one woman made for him alone.
The one woman he’d searched for without cease for a thousand years—up until the day of his capture.
The flames have ebbed. At this moment, she lingers somewhere above. It is enough. One arm strains against its bonds until the thick metal cuts into his skin. Blood drips, then pours. Every muscle in his weakened body works in concert, striving to do what he’s never been able to for an eternity before. For her, he can do this. He must … . His yell turns to a choking cough as he rips two bonds free.
He doesn’t have time to disbelieve what he’s accomplished. She is so close, he can almost feel her. Need her. Another arm wrenches free.
With both hands he clenches the metal biting into his neck, vaguely remembering the day the thick, long pin was hammered into place. He knows its two ends are embedded at least three feet down. His strength is waning, but nothing will stop him when she’s so close. In a rush of rock and dust, the metal comes loose, the recoil making him fling it across the cavernous space.
He yanks at the bond wrapped tight around his thigh. He wrests it and the one at his ankle free, then begins on the last two holding his other leg. Already envisioning his escape, not even glancing down, he pulls. Nothing. Brows drawn in confusion, he tries again. Straining, groaning with desperation. Nothing.
Her scent is fading—there is no time. He pitilessly regards his trapped leg. Imagining how he can bury himself in her and forget the pain, he reaches above his knee with shaking hands. Yearning for that oblivion within her, he attempts to crack the bone. His weakness ensures that this takes half a dozen tries.
His claws slice his skin and muscle, but the nerve running the length of his femur is taut as a piano wire. When he even nears it, unimaginable pain stabs up its length and explodes in his upper body, making his vision go black.
Too weak. Bleeding too freely. The fire will build again soon. The vampires return periodically. Will he lose her just when he’s found her?
“Never,” he grates. He surrenders himself to the beast inside him, the beast that will take its freedom with its teeth, drink water from the gutters and scavenge refuse to survive. He sees the frenzied amputation as though watching a misery from a distance.
Crawling from his torture, abandoning his leg, he pulls himself through the shadows of the dank catacombs until he spies a passageway. Ever watchful for his enemies, he creeps through the bones littering the floor to reach it. He has no idea how far it is to escape, but he finds his way—and the strength—by following her scent. He regrets the pain he will give her. She will be so connected to him, she’ll feel his suffering and horror as her own.
It can’t be helped. He is escaping. Doing his part. Can she save him from his memories when his skin still burns?
He finally inches his way to the surface, then into a darkened alley. But her scent has faltered.
Fate has given her to him when he needs her most, and God help him—and this city—if he can’t find her. His brutality had been legendary, and he will unleash it without measure for her.
He fights to sit up against a wall. Clawing tracks into the brick street, he struggles to calm his ragged breaths so he can scent her once more.
Need her. Bury myself in her. Waited so long … .
Her scent is gone.
His eyes go wet and he shudders violently at the loss. An anguished roar makes the city tremble.
About the Author
Kresley Cole is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of the electrifying Immortals After Dark paranormal series, the young adult Arcana Chronicles series, the erotic Gamemakers series, and five award-winning historical romances.
A master’s grad and former athlete, she has traveled over much of the world and draws from those experiences to create her memorable characters and settings.
Her books have been translated into 23 foreign languages, garnered 3 RITA awards, a Hall of Fame induction, and consistently appear on the bestseller lists, in the U.S. and abroad.
Cole lives in Florida with her family.
Visit http://www.kresleycole.com/ for more information
Mine to you. Yours to me. Bonded by blood, by spirit and by soul, we are one. No distance too far, no enemy too powerful, no sacrifice too great. I'll always find you. I'll always protect you. No matter what the cost. I am yours as you are mine.
────── ♔ ──────
Darkness Awakened by Stephanie Rowe
Standalone - Order of the Blade #1
Release - November 12, 2013
Genre - Paranormal Romance / fated mates
Multiple POV - 3rd person
Heat Level - 3 out of 5 / a couple of scenes
Format and Source - ebook purchase from Amazon
Page Count - 406
Publisher - Authenticity Playground, LLC
Release - November 12, 2013
Genre - Paranormal Romance / fated mates
Multiple POV - 3rd person
Heat Level - 3 out of 5 / a couple of scenes
Format and Source - ebook purchase from Amazon
Page Count - 406
Publisher - Authenticity Playground, LLC
Can two sworn enemies overcome dangerous attraction to save those they love? A grumpy immortal warrior and a sassy, modern-minded witch team up in a steamy, irresistible romance.
Grace isn't about to let a grumpy warrior keep her from saving her sister. She'll do whatever it takes to get his help, including a bit of rule-breaking and blackmail. As for the addictive attraction between them? She's ignoring it completely.
Quinn is a little too busy and a lot too antisocial to help an interfering witch find her sister. But when he realizes the distractingly sexy siren might be the key to everything he wants, he's all in.
Grace and Quinn are determined to stay single, but a centuries-old, match-making curse has other plans for the pair. Can an immortal warrior burned by love win the heart of the sexy witch meant to save his ever-lovin' soul?
Purchase Links
Amazon CA 🡪 https://amzn.to/3j71hVA
Amazon US 🡪 https://amzn.to/3FSSQqj
Amazon UK 🡪 https://amzn.to/3DKxiKF
Amazon AU 🡪 https://amzn.to/3lJMu4M
Amazon US 🡪 https://amzn.to/3FSSQqj
Amazon UK 🡪 https://amzn.to/3DKxiKF
Amazon AU 🡪 https://amzn.to/3lJMu4M
My Two Cents
So I literally had just finished To Kiss a Demon and high off the win that story, I had to get my hands on another Stephanie Rowe book. I just needed more! And I got it. Meeting Quinn... and boy was he delicious... I can safely say that the streak is still hot!!
I began falling in love with The Order of the Blade in this book and I'm excited to fall more in the books to come. Quinn was a fierce immortal warrior who was tasked with taking out all threats to humanity — even his own kin. Grace was a woman who had the power of illusions, a power that scared her, but nothing scared her more than the destiny she faced with Quinn.
The suspenseful plot was enjoyable, if a bit drawn out, but I really liked getting to know all of the players. Friend or foe, the author didn't shirk her responsibility of giving us characters that had a ton of depth. Characters I want to get to know better.
I do wish that tension between Grace and Quinn wasn't so endless. I get that it was initially necessary to drive the story, but it went on for too long. For too long was Grace allowed to treat Quinn like dirt. For too long was Quinn doing the whole 'push-and-pull' with Grace. And for too long did it seem like their destiny didn't make sense.
However, I loved enough about this story to continue reading. I will be (hopefully) devouring the next book, Darkness Seduced, and the books to come. I need to know how the dead warriors were resurrected. Seriously, why did these men with potential to be great leading characters keep on dying?
So Gideon is next (and he's a hottie too) and he's supposed to be rescuing Lily, who was held prisoner for two years. I can't wait to see how that goes! I can only hope to get more glimpses of all of these amazing people (Elijah and Dante included) and enough to love to keep on pushing.
────── ♔ ──────
And it didn't get 5 stars because...
One of my biggest pet peeves... The heroine being utterly ridiculous. Grace did the one thing that aggravates me to no end. Quinn is helping her find and rescue her sister. They've literally just met, but Quinn is determined to protect her at all times. You know... because he's immortal and SHE'S NOT!! I get her not trusting him right away. I get her trying to keep her secrets close, even though those secrets could help them in their quest. I get it. What I don't get is why she thought she could do bad all by herself. There was this one instance, when they're at the bar that started all the bad stuff, and she tells Quinn that she can take care of herself while he investigates. He insists on protecting her because there are tons of bad guys after them and they have no allies here, but she demands that he respect her independence. Okay. Yet, when trouble finds her... as we all knew it would... what does she do? Does she take care of herself? No? The chick screams the place down for Quinn to save her.
Excerpt
Quinn Masters raced soundlessly through the thick woods, his injuries long forgotten, urgency coursing through him as he neared his house. He covered the last thirty yards, leapt over a fallen tree, then reached the edge of the clearing by his cabin.
There she was.
He stopped dead, fading back into the trees as he stared at the woman he’d scented when he was still two hours away, a lure that had eviscerated all weakness from his body and fueled him into a dead sprint back to his house.
His lungs heaving with the effort of pushing his severely damaged body so hard, Quinn stood rigidly as he studied the woman whose scent had called to him through the dark night. She’d yanked him out of his thoughts about Elijah and galvanized him with energy he hadn’t been able to summon on his own.
And now he’d found her.
She’d wedged herself up against the back corner of his porch, barely protected from the cold rain and wet wind. Her knees were pulled up against her chest, her delicate arms wrapped tightly around them as if she could hold onto her body heat by sheer force of will. Her shoulders were hunched, her forehead pressed against her knees while damp tangles of dark brown hair tumbled over her arms.
Her chest moved once. Twice. A trembling, aching breath into lungs that were too cold and too exhausted to work as well as they should.
He took a step toward her, and another, then three more before he realized what he was doing. He froze, suddenly aware of his urgent need to get to her. To help her. To fill her with heat and breathe safety into her trembling body. To whisk her off his porch and into his cabin.
Into his bed.
Quinn stiffened at the thought. Into his bed? Since when? He didn’t engage when it came to women. Not anymore. The risk was too high, for him, and for all Calydons. Any woman he met could be his mate, his fate, his doom. His sheva.
He was never tempted.
Until now.
Until this cold, vulnerable stranger had appeared inexplicably on his doorstep. He should be pulling out his sword, not thinking that the fastest way to get her warm would be to run his hands over her bare skin and infuse her whole body with the heat from his.
But his sword remained quiet. His instincts warned him of nothing.
What the hell was going on? She had to be a threat. Nothing else made sense. Women didn’t stumble onto his home, and he didn’t get a hard-on from simply catching a whiff of one from miles away.
His aching quads braced against the cold air, he inhaled her scent again, searching for answers to a thousand questions. She smelled delicate, with a hint of something sweet, and a flavoring of the bitterness of true desperation. He could practically taste her anguish, a cold, acrid weight in the air, and he knew she was in trouble.
His hands flexed with the need to close the distance between them, to crouch by her side, to give her his protection. But he didn’t move. He didn’t dare. He had to figure out why he was so compelled by her, why he was responding like this, especially at a time when he couldn’t afford any distraction.
She moaned softly and curled into an even tighter ball. His muscles tightened, his entire soul burning with the need to help her. Quinn narrowed his eyes and pried his gaze off her to search the woods.
With the life of his blood brother in his hands, an Order posse soon to be after him, and his own body still half in the grave, he should be so focused on business that a woman could dance naked on his chest and he still wouldn’t notice. It shouldn’t be possible for a woman he didn’t even know, hadn’t met and barely even seen to rock him on his ass like this simply because he’d caught a whiff of her scent.
He was disciplined, dammit, and disciplined warriors didn’t fall for that shit. It made no sense.
His intense need for her felt too similar to the compulsion that had sent him to the river three nights ago. Another trap? He’d suspected it from the moment he’d first reacted to her scent, but he’d been unable to resist the temptation, and he’d hauled ass to get back to his house. Yeah, true, he’d also needed to get back to his cabin to retrieve his supplies to go after Elijah. The fact she’d imbued him with new strength had been a bonus he wasn’t going to deny.
But now he had to be sure. A trap or not? Quinn laughed softly. Shit. He hoped it was. If it wasn’t, there was only one other reason he could think that could explain his reaction to her, and that would be if she was his mate. His sheva. His ticket to certain destruction.
No chance.
He wouldn’t allow it.
He had no time for dealing with that destiny right now. It was time to get in, get out, and go after Elijah. His amusement faded as he took a final survey of the woods. There was no lurking threat he could detect. Maybe he’d made it back before he’d been expected, or maybe an ambush had been aborted.
Either way, he had to get into his house, get his stuff, and move on. His gaze returned to the woman, and he noticed a drop of water sliding down the side of her neck, trickling over her skin like the most seductive of caresses. He swore, realizing she wasn’t going to leave. She’d freeze to death before she’d abandon her perch.
He cursed again and knew he had to go to her. He couldn’t let her die on his front step. Not this woman. Not her.
He would make it fast, he would make it efficient, he would stay on target for his mission, but he would get her safe.
Keeping alert for any indication that this was a setup, Quinn stepped out of the woods and into the clearing. He’d made no sound, not even a whisper of his clothing, and yet she sensed him.
She sat up, her gaze finding him instantly in the dim light, despite his stealthy approach. They made eye contact, and the world seemed to stop for a split second. The moment he saw those silvery eyes, something thumped in his chest. Something visceral and male howled inside him, raging to be set free.
As he strode up, she unfolded herself from her cramped position and pulled herself to her feet, her gaze never leaving his. Her face was wary, her body tense, but she lifted her chin ever so slightly and set her hands on her hips, telling him that she wasn’t leaving.
Her courage and determination, held together by that tiny, shivering frame, made satisfaction thud through him. There was a warrior in that slim, exhausted body.
She said nothing as he approached, and neither of them spoke as he came to a stop in front of her.
Up close, he was riveted. Her dark eyelashes were clumped from the rain. Her skin was pale, too pale. Her face was carrying the burden of a thousand weights. But beneath that pain, those nightmares, that hell, lay delicate femininity that called to him. The luminescent glow of her skin, the sensual curve of her mouth, the sheen of rain on her cheekbones, the simple silver hoops in her ears. It awoke in him something so male, so carnal, so primal he wanted to throw her up against the wall and consume her until their bodies were melted together in a single, scorching fire.
She searched his face with the same intensity raging through him, and he felt like she was tearing through his shields, cataloguing everything about him, all the way down to his soul.
He studied her carefully, and she let him, not flinching when his gaze traveled down her body. His blood pulsed as he noted the curve of her breasts under her rain-slicked jacket, the sensuous curve of her hips, and even the mud on her jeans and boots. He almost groaned at his need to palm her hips, drag her over to him, and mark her with his kiss. Loose strands of thick dark hair curled around her neck and shoulders like it was clinging to her for safety.
Protectiveness surged from deep inside him and he clenched his fists against the urge to sweep her into his arms and carry her inside, away from whatever hardships had brought her to his doorstep.
Double hell. He’d hoped his reaction would lessen when he got close to her, but it had intensified. He’d never felt like this before. Never had this response to a woman.
What the hell was going on? Sheva. The word was like a demon, whispering through his mind. He shut it out. He would never allow himself to bond with his mate. If that was what was going on, she was out of there immediately, before they were both destroyed forever.
Intent on sending her away, he looked again at her face, and then realized he was irrevocably ensnared. Her beautiful silver eyes were aching with a soul-deep pain that shattered what little defenses he had against her. He simply couldn’t abandon her.
It didn’t matter what she wanted. It didn’t matter why she was there. She was coming inside. He would make sure it didn’t interfere with his mission. He would make dead sure it turned out right. No matter what.
Without a word, he grabbed her backpack off the floor, surprised at how heavy it was. Either she had tossed her free weights in it, or she had packed her life into it.
He had a bad feeling it wasn’t a set of dumbbells.
Quinn walked past her and unlocked his front door. He shoved it open, then stood back. Letting her decide. Hoping she would walk away and spare them both.
She took a deep breath, glanced at his face one more time, then walked into the cabin.
Hell.
He paused to take one more survey of his woods, found nothing amiss, and then he followed her into his home and shut the door behind them.
There she was.
He stopped dead, fading back into the trees as he stared at the woman he’d scented when he was still two hours away, a lure that had eviscerated all weakness from his body and fueled him into a dead sprint back to his house.
His lungs heaving with the effort of pushing his severely damaged body so hard, Quinn stood rigidly as he studied the woman whose scent had called to him through the dark night. She’d yanked him out of his thoughts about Elijah and galvanized him with energy he hadn’t been able to summon on his own.
And now he’d found her.
She’d wedged herself up against the back corner of his porch, barely protected from the cold rain and wet wind. Her knees were pulled up against her chest, her delicate arms wrapped tightly around them as if she could hold onto her body heat by sheer force of will. Her shoulders were hunched, her forehead pressed against her knees while damp tangles of dark brown hair tumbled over her arms.
Her chest moved once. Twice. A trembling, aching breath into lungs that were too cold and too exhausted to work as well as they should.
He took a step toward her, and another, then three more before he realized what he was doing. He froze, suddenly aware of his urgent need to get to her. To help her. To fill her with heat and breathe safety into her trembling body. To whisk her off his porch and into his cabin.
Into his bed.
Quinn stiffened at the thought. Into his bed? Since when? He didn’t engage when it came to women. Not anymore. The risk was too high, for him, and for all Calydons. Any woman he met could be his mate, his fate, his doom. His sheva.
He was never tempted.
Until now.
Until this cold, vulnerable stranger had appeared inexplicably on his doorstep. He should be pulling out his sword, not thinking that the fastest way to get her warm would be to run his hands over her bare skin and infuse her whole body with the heat from his.
But his sword remained quiet. His instincts warned him of nothing.
What the hell was going on? She had to be a threat. Nothing else made sense. Women didn’t stumble onto his home, and he didn’t get a hard-on from simply catching a whiff of one from miles away.
His aching quads braced against the cold air, he inhaled her scent again, searching for answers to a thousand questions. She smelled delicate, with a hint of something sweet, and a flavoring of the bitterness of true desperation. He could practically taste her anguish, a cold, acrid weight in the air, and he knew she was in trouble.
His hands flexed with the need to close the distance between them, to crouch by her side, to give her his protection. But he didn’t move. He didn’t dare. He had to figure out why he was so compelled by her, why he was responding like this, especially at a time when he couldn’t afford any distraction.
She moaned softly and curled into an even tighter ball. His muscles tightened, his entire soul burning with the need to help her. Quinn narrowed his eyes and pried his gaze off her to search the woods.
With the life of his blood brother in his hands, an Order posse soon to be after him, and his own body still half in the grave, he should be so focused on business that a woman could dance naked on his chest and he still wouldn’t notice. It shouldn’t be possible for a woman he didn’t even know, hadn’t met and barely even seen to rock him on his ass like this simply because he’d caught a whiff of her scent.
He was disciplined, dammit, and disciplined warriors didn’t fall for that shit. It made no sense.
His intense need for her felt too similar to the compulsion that had sent him to the river three nights ago. Another trap? He’d suspected it from the moment he’d first reacted to her scent, but he’d been unable to resist the temptation, and he’d hauled ass to get back to his house. Yeah, true, he’d also needed to get back to his cabin to retrieve his supplies to go after Elijah. The fact she’d imbued him with new strength had been a bonus he wasn’t going to deny.
But now he had to be sure. A trap or not? Quinn laughed softly. Shit. He hoped it was. If it wasn’t, there was only one other reason he could think that could explain his reaction to her, and that would be if she was his mate. His sheva. His ticket to certain destruction.
No chance.
He wouldn’t allow it.
He had no time for dealing with that destiny right now. It was time to get in, get out, and go after Elijah. His amusement faded as he took a final survey of the woods. There was no lurking threat he could detect. Maybe he’d made it back before he’d been expected, or maybe an ambush had been aborted.
Either way, he had to get into his house, get his stuff, and move on. His gaze returned to the woman, and he noticed a drop of water sliding down the side of her neck, trickling over her skin like the most seductive of caresses. He swore, realizing she wasn’t going to leave. She’d freeze to death before she’d abandon her perch.
He cursed again and knew he had to go to her. He couldn’t let her die on his front step. Not this woman. Not her.
He would make it fast, he would make it efficient, he would stay on target for his mission, but he would get her safe.
Keeping alert for any indication that this was a setup, Quinn stepped out of the woods and into the clearing. He’d made no sound, not even a whisper of his clothing, and yet she sensed him.
She sat up, her gaze finding him instantly in the dim light, despite his stealthy approach. They made eye contact, and the world seemed to stop for a split second. The moment he saw those silvery eyes, something thumped in his chest. Something visceral and male howled inside him, raging to be set free.
As he strode up, she unfolded herself from her cramped position and pulled herself to her feet, her gaze never leaving his. Her face was wary, her body tense, but she lifted her chin ever so slightly and set her hands on her hips, telling him that she wasn’t leaving.
Her courage and determination, held together by that tiny, shivering frame, made satisfaction thud through him. There was a warrior in that slim, exhausted body.
She said nothing as he approached, and neither of them spoke as he came to a stop in front of her.
Up close, he was riveted. Her dark eyelashes were clumped from the rain. Her skin was pale, too pale. Her face was carrying the burden of a thousand weights. But beneath that pain, those nightmares, that hell, lay delicate femininity that called to him. The luminescent glow of her skin, the sensual curve of her mouth, the sheen of rain on her cheekbones, the simple silver hoops in her ears. It awoke in him something so male, so carnal, so primal he wanted to throw her up against the wall and consume her until their bodies were melted together in a single, scorching fire.
She searched his face with the same intensity raging through him, and he felt like she was tearing through his shields, cataloguing everything about him, all the way down to his soul.
He studied her carefully, and she let him, not flinching when his gaze traveled down her body. His blood pulsed as he noted the curve of her breasts under her rain-slicked jacket, the sensuous curve of her hips, and even the mud on her jeans and boots. He almost groaned at his need to palm her hips, drag her over to him, and mark her with his kiss. Loose strands of thick dark hair curled around her neck and shoulders like it was clinging to her for safety.
Protectiveness surged from deep inside him and he clenched his fists against the urge to sweep her into his arms and carry her inside, away from whatever hardships had brought her to his doorstep.
Double hell. He’d hoped his reaction would lessen when he got close to her, but it had intensified. He’d never felt like this before. Never had this response to a woman.
What the hell was going on? Sheva. The word was like a demon, whispering through his mind. He shut it out. He would never allow himself to bond with his mate. If that was what was going on, she was out of there immediately, before they were both destroyed forever.
Intent on sending her away, he looked again at her face, and then realized he was irrevocably ensnared. Her beautiful silver eyes were aching with a soul-deep pain that shattered what little defenses he had against her. He simply couldn’t abandon her.
It didn’t matter what she wanted. It didn’t matter why she was there. She was coming inside. He would make sure it didn’t interfere with his mission. He would make dead sure it turned out right. No matter what.
Without a word, he grabbed her backpack off the floor, surprised at how heavy it was. Either she had tossed her free weights in it, or she had packed her life into it.
He had a bad feeling it wasn’t a set of dumbbells.
Quinn walked past her and unlocked his front door. He shoved it open, then stood back. Letting her decide. Hoping she would walk away and spare them both.
She took a deep breath, glanced at his face one more time, then walked into the cabin.
Hell.
He paused to take one more survey of his woods, found nothing amiss, and then he followed her into his home and shut the door behind them.
About the Author
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Stephanie Rowe is the author of more than forty-five novels, and she’s a four-time nominee for the RITA® award, the highest award in romance fiction. As an award-winning author, Stephanie has been touching readers’ hearts and keeping them spellbound for more than a decade with her contemporary romances, romantic suspense, paranormal romances, and YA contemporary romances.
A life-long reader, she began crafting stories at age ten, but didn’t realize it was her dream until she was an adult.
Once the light dawned, she immediately left behind “work” as the world defines it and went to “work” as she defines it, which means getting up every morning with a smile in her heart so she can spend the day doing that which makes her spirit sing.
Stephanie believes in learning to listen to your heart in order to figure out what your dreams are, and then opening yourself to the inspiration that will direct you there. She believes we all deserve the right to enjoy life, and for the ride to be as easy as we want it to be, and that we all should accept nothing less than making our dreams come true.
Stephanie currently lives in New England, and spends every day doing her best to fill it with people, observations and activities that uplift her soul, which include writing, tennis, dancing, friends, her dogs, and her amazing family.
Visit https://www.stephanierowe.com/ for more information
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