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Warm wishes to all! I hope no matter what holiday you are celebrating this month, that it's filled with family, love and joy.

Review: Legend of Love by Lisa Kessler

Legend of Love

Author: Lisa Kessler

Release Date: October 14, 2016

Publisher: Lisa's Lair

The Muse Chronicles Book #2

ISBN13: 9780997627411

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Review Copy Source: NetGalley

The Prophecy - “Every generation the nine daughters of Zeus are reborn, and with their rebirth are also nine Guardians. They will be marked by the gods, and given gifts to protect his treasure. Their abilities will only be unlocked when they find their muse.”

Callie O'Connor's life has never been the same since the Muse of Epic Poetry came alive inside of her. Now she's on the other side of the country, working as civilian psychologist for the Navy, and leading her Muse sisters in their quest to reopen the Theater of the Muses.

But nothing could have prepared her for Hunter Armstrong. He's a Navy Seal, driven, confident, and dangerous. And he plans to do more than just protect her.

The gods couldn't have picked a better Guardian. But as Hunter soon discovers, Callie has some skeletons of her own in the closet, and loving her could lead to his destruction.

LEGEND OF LOVE was just as fast paced and full of romance as book one, LURE OF OBSESSION. We learned a lot about the world of the muse chronicles in book one, so book two stuck to the continued storyline and character love story.

Callie is the Muse of Epic Poetry and isn't looking for a relationship, so when Hunter Armstrong walks into her office and starts to flirt she tries very hard to keep him at arms length—even though she is just as drawn to him as he is to her. On top of her pact with her fellow Muse sisters preventing her from jumping into a relationship with Hunter, she has a fear of hurting another man. An old fear that isn't easy for her to get over. Luckily fate has a hand in things and Hunter ends up being her Guardian. I found Callie to be very determined, yet fun when she's able to let go. She is definitely someone I could see myself hanging out with.

Hunter loves his family so much that he joined the military to help take care of them. When he's sent home after a challenging mission that left one of his brothers missing in action, he is sent to a therapist. Hunter doesn't want to talk about it, but he is definitely interested in the therapist. Hunter quickly won my heart. He was loyal, protective and willing to go the extra step for those he cares about.

The relationship was the best part of the book. Hunter and Callie were made for each other. They had plenty of ups and downs, but there relationship felt real and their connection shined through the pages. The secondary characters, especially the Muses, continue to be a strong part of the storyline and I loved seeing them again and continuing their journey to open their theater and inspire everyone. Both Melanie and Nate also play a good part in LEGEND OF LOVE, it was nice seeing them again and seeing that they still have their happily ever after.

There is just something about this world and these characters that draws me in. BREATH OF PASSION—Erica's love story— is up next and I look forward to diving into it.

I gave it 4/5 stars

* This book was provided free of charge from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.

Guest Blog + Giveaway: Beyond Every Mirror by Christine Church

UFI welcomes Author Christine Church. Thanks for Joining us!!

The Writing Journey

I started writing at nine years old. I know that sounds a tad young, but I wrote picture books that I still have put away somewhere to this day. Reading back on them, they are, as would be expected, “childish,” but still had everything a story requires; a plot, a beginning, middle, end, and main characters.  They are all about horses.

By my teens I had worked up to writing short stories about hot guys. But these were stories of guys that were generally placed in really odd circumstances; paranormal or fantasy. At 15, I wrote a short story about a rock star who was on the road, on tour, and when he was in the hotel bathroom, he saw someone appear in his mirror. He was grabbed and dragged into that “mirror world” where he became a sacrificial pawn of sorts and was tortured. The story ended with them tossing him into a bottomless pit. He awoke, back in his hotel bed. He thought it all a dream until he got up and went into the bathroom. When he looked into the mirror, his body was battered and bruised from the tortures he’d endured behind that mirror. Awhile later, I thought that if I fleshed it out, this could be a great novel. So, in 1996 I wrote “Beyond Every Mirror.”

Unfortunately, back then romantic fantasies were pretty much non-existent unless they were really well written time travels. Dimensional travel through mirrors was not good enough, no matter how well written. I spoke to countless literary agents and editors at numerous writer’s conferences.

In the meantime…

In 1998, my first traditionally published book came out (House Cat; How to Keep Your Indoor Cat Sane & Sound) by Howell Book House.  I had written this book years before, and it had made the rounds of agents and editors (always the same rejection: “there are too many cat books on the market”). 

After several years I was about to put it aside (self publishing was not then what it is today), but had one more card up my sleeve. I asked a highly published pet writer friend if I could send it to her editor at Howell Book House.  I did, and then waited. After three months, I had heard nothing, so I contacted my writer friend. “She changed publishing houses,” I was told. 

I contacted the editor at her new House (TFH Publications) and was told she “rejected my book and it didn’t fit what TFH was looking for at the time.” I asked her if she thought the editor who had replaced her would like it and was told “No, there’s too many cat books on the market!”  If I heard that sentence one more time, I was going to slam my head against a wall. Mine was not “just any cat book,” it was all about the care of indoor-only cats and it was unique, thorough and the indoor cat movement was getting big. I simply was not finding the right editor. So, I put the manuscript away.

The very next day, I received in the mail (snail mail as it is called today) a letter from the NEW editor at Howell Book House. She found my proposal in a slush pile of 200 rejected manuscripts. She loved it. She was a cat person. A year later, with my book just out, the editor who had rejected my manuscript went back to Howell. I was heading to NYC to have lunch with my editor and I met the editor who had rejected my book. She shrugged and said “I was wrong.” I had also received several book assignments from TFH Publications!  ALL of those books are still in publication to this day.

Fast forward to 2012. I was at a writer’s conference. I was talking to a big name literary agent about my novel, Beyond Every Mirror. She was very excited about it and asked me to send her the full manuscript. I did, and a few months later, she emailed to tell me how much she LOVED it and wanted it, BUT (ready??) the market was over-saturated with the genre!!  Oh well, it was still the best rejection I ever got. And that is why I chose to self publish this book.

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Christine Church has been writing since she was 9 years old. As a kid, she wrote and drew her own picture books, then moved on to short stories as a teen. By her 20's, she was writing full-length novels, but her first success in publication was a nonfiction book about the care of indoor cats, Housecat, published by Howell Book House in 1998. Several more nonfiction books followed, including the major award winning book, Indoor Cats (TFH publications),  which won the Iams Responsible Cat Ownership in 2001. After a broken hand, she took a hiatus from writing for quite some time, then returned to find everything had changed and her world turned upside down. She decided then to take a stab at self publishing. Her first novella, Sands of Time, Fate of the True Vampires won Finalist status in the 2016 Next Generation Indie Book Awards. Her second book, as well as Beyond Every Mirror, have won five-star status on Reader's favorite.

Find Christine and her books

Website / Goodreads / Twitter / Facebook

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Beyond Every Mirror 

Beside his own image, Dane Bainbridge sees another; a beautiful ginger haired beauty--behind her, red mountains and clouds as if from another world. He's seen her his entire life, a life filled with glamour and fame... and loneliness. For the woman in the mirror is his one true love. But, this he does not know, not until he is dragged into her world--one of beasts and lands beyond imagination. One where his sacrifice is the only thing keeping her and the world in which she resides alive.

Once they are together, he remembers it all, and that knowledge means his doom for all eternity. But if he escapes her world, she will perish as will all others behind the looking glass. He is the key that keeps her alive, and she is the key that gives him hope. Can they break the curse that keeps them separated by torture and death? Can they escape together from a world that exists beyond every mirror?

5 Star Reviews

"I have never read anything quite like it and I loved it. Brilliant and well written. Superb!! And the writing style of the author was amazing." Rabia Tanveer, Readers’ Favorite

"Fans of Lord of the Rings, Anne Rice, and all fantasy novels will really enjoy this book! Truly one of the best books I've ever read!" Bonnie, Amazon Customer

“Christine Church gives readers a lovable protagonist. A wonderful love story. Like a dangerous but beautiful animal, this romance novel comes with some nail-biting moments that are definitely worth reading. I recommend this book to vampire fans."  ~Benjamin Ookami

"I actually fell asleep with the book in my arms and woke up to read it in the morning." Amazon Customer

"Great fantasy and very exciting, a real page turner." Amazon Customer
Five-Star Reader’s Review Favorite



Excerpt:

Love's Grasp

December 20, 2014

He remained perfectly still as the chains were wrapped around his body.  The metal cooled the heated flesh of his bare chest.  All around him echoed a cacophony of screams, bellows and stomping of feet that almost crushed him beneath its weight.  The air tightened with the chains and a rush of collective exhilaration and nervousness swirled through his senses.  He glanced quickly at the red-faced, muscular man standing beside him, who finished fastening the chains and stepped away.

He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. And then he waited, anxiety pounding in his breast. The air was thick with heat and sweat and smoke, but he'd grown accustomed to it through the years, as with the rest of the ritual. The one thing he could never get used to, however, was the flip-flop in the pit of his stomach that occurred as the platform he stood on slowly lifted into the air, revealing him to the anxiously awaiting crowd that crushed nearer. Starving animals before a feast.  He looked straight out, refused to look down, lest the vertigo take him.

How he hated heights.

He listened for the eerie orchestration of strings and organ that marked the beginning of his leisurely descent back to earth. The notes began with a rhythmic resonance that was almost conquered by impatient bellows that quickly turned to a roar of frenzied excitement.  As the platform lowered, a muzzy sensation circled Dane’s mind and his throat felt as though his stomach had been hoisted up into it.  

He held his breath in anticipation.

An amplified voice echoed over the din. “Ladies and Gentlemen.  Through the misty storm they come. Battles rage and blood is spilled and tonight you will feel…the rage of the... Dark Myst!”
    The crescendo of notes rose with the screams and soon the vast crowd, shrouded in the mist of machine smoke and lighting from the trusses above, came into view.  The platform touched the stage simultaneously with a deafening blast of canon fire, blinding light and searing heat from the pyrotechnics.

Dane thrust his arms outward in an ostentatious display of feigned strength and released his long held breath as the chains fell free of his body.  As he leaped forward the crowd crushed against the stage, nearly 20,000 screaming fans all at once a serried mass swarming towards him.

Tingles of excitement clawed at his spine, a feeling that never waned with the years.  He ran to the front of the stage and grabbed up the microphone as Bruce struck the first hard note on his Strat.  The music pounded out its heavy rhythm and the audience's cries warred with its volume. Sharp beams of laser light cut a zigzag through the haze. Dane twirled around and his heart jumped.

Oh what fresh hell!

He was staring at himself!

The stage had been set up like a room in a lover's palace; giant mirrors everywhere—behind, to the sides, even above, stretching as high as the trusses.  Due to a severe snow squall the truck carrying an important part of the band’s stage set had gone off the road and gotten stuck. No one was injured, but the set had not arrived in time to be set up in the sold-out Target Center.  Someone had decided the light show would look better reflected. Dane, however, was aghast. Not only was their stage set designed to coincide with most of their songs, but the effects of the colored lights continuously bouncing from mirror to mirror would inevitably result in the whole band plagued with a throbbing headache by concert’s end.

Their manager had to have approved this—someone had to have approved it. No one had told Dane! The mirrors must have been erected last moment. Everyone associated with the band knew how Dane hated mirrors. But now, no matter which direction he turned, he saw himself in his black costume and ragged-edged cloak; which portrayed him as the yin to the band's yang.  They were the mist, and he the dark storm.

To keep his attention from the mirrors, Dane fixed his gaze on the audience and the speckled glow from thousands of cell phone flashes, resembling a sparkling star-filled evening that stretched out before him. But he knew he would eventually have to turn around.
    By the third song it became maddening, not able to dance around as he normally would for fear of what might be hidden in those mirrors. But, thankfully, half way through the song he spotted one of the girls he'd met the last time he was in town.  At last, something to keep his mind and eyes busy.  In the front row she stood, arms raised toward him.  The bulldozing horde had her pressed against the stage, long auburn hair flittering about as she bobbed her head to the beat of the music.  He smiled in her direction, despite his sudden dread at remembering the promise he'd made to her the year before.  A promise—ashamedly—he had no intention of keeping.

He had never seen her before that night a year ago, so she hadn’t been a regular.  Conquering new territory was always fun. She’d displayed the looks normally reserved by the group of girls who always seem to know just how to be chosen above others and handed backstage passes.  This one, however, had taken a different approach. She had approached him on the floor of his hotel as he made his way to his room. Fortunately he had been alone—a rarity. He had invited her in.  Ample breasts and a nice round bottom offset by a perfectly slender waist. Dane knew he would be having a good time that night.

She had wanted too much, however, a commitment he couldn't give. Teasing him and denying him her favors until he'd made the vow. What else was there to do? And so he had said exactly what she wanted to hear. And, as naïve as she was, she had believed him. He couldn’t, after all, say no. Not when she lay there in his hotel bed displaying all her luscious charms. But he couldn't keep his promise, either.  There were plenty of women in countless towns, women the band’s crew knew were his type. Women who would be offered passes just so he could meet them, drink with them, bed them. And there would be more waiting in the next town after that.

Now, a pass with the name of a local radio as sponsor dangled around her neck. So, she had won backstage passes this time. There would be no avoiding her tonight. What would he say to her? He could not even recall her name. As her fiery glare burned through him, he absentmindedly turned away, catching Bruce’s smug grin as he looked from the girl to Dane.  He mouthed the words “there she is,” as he switched guitars with an assistant for the next set of songs.

Dane smirked, shook his head at his friend, then strutted to the other side of the stage as the next song began—one of the band’s trademark tunes that he wrote about a medieval land of lords and knights.  He wielded a sword, one of many from his collection, and proceeded to dance around in choreographed mock swordplay as the hired orchestra played their bit.  

At this point, his disappointment surged that the integral element of their regular stage set had not arrived.  The video wall depiction of a castle and rolling green hills was installed. However, mirrors now replaced the large faux-stone steps that were to lead to the balcony above the stage, giving Dane the appearance of riding atop one of two red-eyed dragons that should, at that moment, be gazing menacingly down at the crowd, smoke, laser and fire effects erupting from the eyes and fanged mouths. Those that came for the show would be fervently disappointed.

During Bruce’s brief guitar solo near mid-song, Dane closed his eyes for a moment and raised the sword high, drawing in the deep odor of sweat and heat. Machine-created fog crept along the stage and curled around his feet like a chill mist in a graveyard.  The lights were so dim he could scarce see even the front row of the audience as the laser lights sliced through the stadium and across his body like sharp-edged blades.

In accordance with his routine, and without second thought, he twirled around—and was suddenly staring right into one of the tall mirrors that littered the stage.  The lights brightened.  His craggy-hemmed cloak billowed as he spun from the ghastly reflection of his own sweat-soaked face only to catch the same image in the mirror beside that one. His gut wrenched and he tried to turn away, back to the front of the stage, back to the audience. But he froze as movement caught his eye and when he turned his head, she was there—the “Mirror Lady.” His illusion. His own delusion.

Onstage.
    As real to him as his own reflection.

    No! Not here!

Her thigh-length ginger hair was loose, rather than pulled back in the usual braid. The shining tresses poured over her shoulders like a rushing waterfall and cascaded down a beautiful gown of burgundy velvet that hugged her slim form. The tears in her golden eyes told a tale of sadness that wrenched at his heart, and he felt himself take an involuntary step forward. More familiar to him than Martha or Lance or Sir Kori, the sight of the “Mirror Lady” twisted his gut, a tornado rampaging through him, a tangled enrapture of perplexity and fear, love and pain—as if he had known her for more years than his life was long. And that familiarity drove him somewhere beyond her presence in some glass.  
    His dilemma with the redhead in the front row disappeared.  The girls he’d met in the past or would meet in the future no longer mattered. It was this stranger, this illusion. She alone meant everything—and she scared the hell out of him.  But deeper than fear lie an unbearable urge to leap into the mirror and gather her into his arms.  

Protective impulses tugged at him relentlessly and he was suddenly frightened not of her but for her. Terror seized his heart, and refused to let go, pounding through him harder than the music that continued to fill the stadium, confusing him profoundly.  Passionate emotions thrashed at his brain and his head ached with the need to bring them to the surface.  But he couldn’t.  A mental barrier walled off the needs screaming for release.  Why couldn’t he just go to her; feel for her the love he’d been missing his entire life?
    Behind him, the glass’ surface reflected a flurry of activity; lambent light bounced from one mirror to the next, heightening the pain in his head.  The small section of audience visible moved and swayed, their images like dancing ghosts in the dark mist of the stadium.  Stephan’s long strawberry hair swayed as he bobbed his head up and down while he plucked away at his bass. He hadn’t seen her.  At the time Dane didn’t think anyone else saw her, but her form was as solid in the mirror as was his own, as she had been in every mirror throughout his life.  

Concentration became impossible. He faltered, his voice cracked and he missed the chorus altogether. Familiar with the music, the mistake must have been quite obvious to the crowd. But he couldn't turn from that damn mirror.

Dane tried to force his mind back to the song when a searing bolt of pain sliced through his head. The clank of the sword and the microphone sounded loud to his ears, even above the music, as they dropped from his hands and crashed to the stage. Feedback screeched from the monitors and the music stopped. The burden of emotion and conflict pressed him downward and, like Alice, he found himself falling. Down. Down. The spotlights swirled like shooting stars and agony screamed through his shoulder as he hit the hard stage floor.  

The fog consumed him.

The stadium went dead silent. Bruce and Stephan rushed towards him. Adrian leapt from behind his drums. Road crew members and strangers circled above. The audience pressed closer to the stage, security guards frantically tried to hold them back.  Their lips moved, their hands pounded the stage. He saw them all, yet he heard nothing. And then he was forced into a vacuum of darkness.

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 One Fell Sweep (Innkeeper Chronicles #3) by Ilona Andrews 

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Promo + Giveaway: Rulers of Darkness Box Set by Amanda J. Greene

Purchased the Rulers of Darkness Box Set from now to Jan 20th for $0.99 (a $7 savings)!!

Caressed by Moonlight
Rulers of Darkness #1

Dorian Vlakhos is no ordinary aristocrat. He is a vampire king, who will do anything to save his clan from complete annihilation, before an ancient curse can claim his immortal life.

Penniless and orphaned, Victoria Kingston has nothing to bring to a marriage, yet she must shackle an unsuspecting gentleman into marriage by the end of the month or forfeit her rights as guardian of her younger sister. With the help of her dearest friend, Victoria begins her hunt, and vows to stay far away from the dark, mysterious, Dorian Vlakhos.

After meeting the beautifully innocent Miss Kingston, Dorian had to have her. He would do absolutely anything to make Victoria his. One sweet stolen kiss would bring them together while a force, more powerful than any vampire would bind them for all eternity. But treachery, war, and death rule Dorian’s dark world and Victoria would be fortunate to survive.

Excerpt:

He made her mindless with his ever-demanding kiss, his tongue playing and dueling with her own. His hand had slipped from her neck and was now massaging her shoulder. His strong fingers branded her soft flesh and, when they began to knead her breast, she groaned in pleasure. Dorian’s lips left hers and blazed a fiery trail down her throat pausing a moment to run his velvet tongue over her enticing pulse. She gripped his massive shoulders as he bent her slowly over his arm and sprinkled feather light kisses over the tops of her breasts.

            She was helpless against his prowess and was utterly seduced. She was ready and willing to do whatever it was he wanted. Dorian smiled with satisfaction. He lifted her and set her on the desk just behind them. His thumbs hooked in the small sleeves of her dress and he nipped at her shoulder as he dragged the material down.

            Victoria clutched at his shirt wanting to tear it to shreds. She needed to feel his hard body against hers. 

“Miss Kingston,” Rogers called as he tried the knob of the locked door.

Dorian cursed. He could kill that man. He reluctantly pulled away and straightened her sleeves. He set Victoria back on her feet, her eyes still closed, lips still parted, and cheeks flushed. She was beautiful and he could only imagine what she would look like in his bed, beneath him. He smiled to himself when her eyes finally fluttered open; she hadn’t heard Rogers at the door. She gazed up at him confused. Then, as she regained her elegant composure, her emerald eyes narrowed and impaled him. If he were a mortal man her intense stare would have set him aflame.

            He saw her hand rise and felt the hard slap she delivered. He smiled and fingered his jaw.

“I suppose that means we will be finishing this later.”

            She raised her hand again but he caught her wrist. “I deserved one but I won’t allow you a second.”

            Victoria snatched her hand away and pushed him aside so she could pass. “There will never be later,” she snapped, her voice low and threatening.

She turned on her heel and headed to the doors. Releasing the lock, she threw the door wide open. Rogers stood smiling like a schoolboy and Victoria roughly took his arm and practically dragged the man down the hall. Dorian watched amused. Her temper was glorious and he loved it. It had been hundreds of years since anyone had been so open with him. He appreciated her honest anger. He idly rubbed his jaw and grinned. His kitten really did have claws. 

Caressed by Night
Rulers of Darkness #2

Dimitri Arsov, the last remaining pure vampire, was thought to be dead for the past four hundred years. Now, he is back and has a score to settle with the traitor that had tried to kill him centuries ago. But as he waits for his prey to blindly step into his carefully laid trap, his overwhelming hunger for blood is triggered when he saves a beautiful art historian.

Kerstyn Ingmar’s life was normal and straight up boring until the night she is rescued by the dangerously sexy, powerfully mesmerizing, Dimitri. Unable to resist his diamond blue eyes and intense kisses, she is drawn into his world of darkness and closer to her impending doom.

While their desire consumes them, Dimitri is haunted by images of a bloody and deadly future. As his enemies draw near, he must find a way to save his mate from her destiny before fate destroys them both.

Excerpt:

Calm was the furthest thing from her savior’s mind.

Dimitri had heard the vampires’ thoughts as they followed the woman from Dark. He knew he had to protect her from the depraved creatures. They’d planned to rape her and drain her, leaving her body in a dumpster. It was filth like them that tarnished the vampire race.

When he materialized in the alley, the weaker vampires caught his scent and fled, leaving him alone with the woman. Instead of feeling anger as he expected, an entirely different emotion settled over him.

Lust.

It was no ordinary lust, but a heart racing, blood raging, sexual yearning, and it turned his body into a blazing inferno of need. Then hunger like he had never known slammed into him, mixing with the unexplainable, unmerciful lust. The torturous combination attacked both his body and mind. He’d never wanted any woman with this kind of intensity. Who was she?

His body had been dead for so long. It had been centuries since he felt sexual stimulus or blood-thirst. The desire and necessity for blood had abandoned him as he aged. But that didn’t seem to matter at the moment. His fangs sprang free as his pants grew tight around his throbbing shaft. This woman’s blood sang to him, beckoned him to have a taste. And, God, she felt good in his arms.

Dimitri ruthlessly fought the temptation to seize control of her mind and take what he wanted. The dread of not being able to pull away terrified him. With her, he’d show he was no better than a new fledgling.

Realizing what precious little control he had, he shut down his senses, driving away her intoxicating scent and the warmth of her soft body against his. Dimitri forced the color from his sight, only seeing in black and white with shades of gray. Though he knew he would never forget the light fragrance of her strawberry blonde hair, the feel of her, or the sapphire color of her eyes. He had to protect her from himself.

He took in deep breaths and focused on the cool bite of the air. It washed over his body, rinsing away his desire leaving him as always, cold and unfeeling, like death. He was death: a true, pureblood vampire.

“I was being followed,” she panted.

He peered over her head, his eyes scanning the alley. “I see no one.” The vampires were long gone.

Nausea twisted her insides as she thought of what almost happened. Thank god, this man was here. If it weren’t for him–

“Do not think about it,” he said, his arms tightening around her. “You are safe now.”

She nodded, rubbing her cheek against his chest. He smelled absolutely wonderful, like dark spices. His voice felt like velvet brushing along her skin. She shivered and sighed in contentment.

“Do you need help with anything?”

His last question snapped her back into action. She stepped away, reluctantly breaking the circle of his arms.

“I need a taxi.”

“A simple enough task,” he said with a shrug.

Kerstyn scoffed. If it were simple, she would have been half way home by now. She turned her head up intending to meet his gaze. His broad shoulder filled her vision. She’d assumed he was tall, but he towered over her. She was forced to take another step back in order to get a proper look at him.

He was huge. Thick. Stacked.

He must be seven feet, she thought as her eyes traveled up and down.

 Her heart stopped when their eyes met. They were a near colorless shade of blue. Like diamonds. His gaze was sharp, hard, filled with wisdom and strength. Intense. Warrior eyes. Yet, he could not be much older than her, around twenty-six. His golden hair glittered from the light of the neon signs and came to his shoulders. His face was chiseled and impossibly perfect. His lips were full and curled in a seductive smile. Kerstyn   herself from imagining how they would feel.

 She stood, rooted to the cement, captivated by the Norse god before her.

Damn, he’s incredibly yummy.

Dimitri forced himself to remain still while she studied him. Again, he struggled against his urges, his heart thundering from the force of the shock of desire that still echoed in his mind.

Clarity crashed into him. He knew one day he would meet his mate, but he had underestimated the force of her seductiveness. He never expected his mate would spark such yearning deep within his soul. He wondered how Dorian had dealt with such overwhelming need when he had found his intended. Dorian had been the first and, until now, only vampire king to find his other half.

Dimitri’s breath caught as her small, pink tongue wet her lips and her sensual thoughts invaded his mind.

She had to go.

He escorted her down the ally and waved his hand in the air and a cab promptly came to a stop at the curb outside the ally. He opened the door and Kerstyn slipped inside, her eyes never leaving his face.

“Goodnight, miss,” he said.

Kerstyn was unable to speak.

This was it. Their brief meeting was at a close.

 Caressed by a Crimson Moon 

Rulers of Darkness #3

Consumed by madness and tormented by dark memories of blood and death, Hadrian Lucretius, King of the Validus Clan, has returned after living in self-imposed exile for nearly three hundred and fifty years.

To maintain peace with the vampires, Eva Maldonado is offered as a sacrifice to the crazed vampire king by her father, the alpha of the Silveria Shifter Pack. Hadrian’s reputation is both legendary and lethal; he is ruthless, bloodthirsty, lusty, and soulless. When Eva arrives at the ancient fortress high in the Carpathian Mountains, she is shocked to find a ravaged man with dark burning eyes filled with loneliness and dangerous desire.

Would she be his lover…or his prey? His savior…or his victim? Would Hadrian lure her into madness or would their perilous passion be their redemption?

Excerpt:

The hall was lined with wood paneling decorated by sharply detailed paintings. Each featured a portrait of a man and was accompanied by a gold placard with his name. These were the kings of the Validus Clan.

The name of the last painting read Hadrian Lucretius, but the image had been savagely shredded. Stepping closer, Eva reached up, trying to place the pieces back together, wanting to get a look at the vampire.

A cool hand clamped over her mouth, stifling her scream as she was hauled back. Eva fought for freedom, twisting around, she jabbed her elbow in her attacker’s side then kicked back, connecting with his shin. He growled in response and spun her about, trapping her with his body. His hands slammed into the wall, cracking the wood, on either side of her head.

“Little girls should not wander alone in the dark.”

She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. His voice, it was dark, threatening—pure sex. He leaned his head down, his lips brushed her ear and, God help her, she shivered. Whether it was from fear or something entirely sexual, she did not know. Confusion, terror, and desire fought for control of her brain, as she remained pinned between the large, solid male and the wall.

“Bad things prowl in the dark,” he whispered against her ear and Eva’s knees went weak. His words were heavily accented, his voice deep. It echoed with evil and was laced with lust. “Bad things, like me.”

Eva tried to speak, knowing she should demand he release her, or scream, but nothing came.

One of his hands dropped from the wall to encircle her wrist, the pad of his thumb gently brushed over her erratically beating pulse.

“Your scent,” he said, his voice rough, the sound sending waves of need crashing over her.

His fingers lightly traced up her arm to cup her nape, tickling her sensitive flesh.

Eva’s breathing grew shallow as her body began to burn.

Desire?

Yes. Oh, god, yes.

The menacing male drew closer, his second hand dropping to her shoulder, pressing her firmly against the wall. Danger, it radiated from him, yet desire flickered in his cold, black eyes. Instinct took hold of her. Eva wrapped her arms around his waist. Her hands pressed flat against his lower back, urging him closer. She arched her back trying in vain to close the space between them.

“Sweet…warm vanilla.” His cool breath caressed the tender flesh of her throat, sending chills all the way down to her toes.

Was he going to bite her?

God, what was she doing? She had no idea who this man was let alone what he was doing to her. She should shove him away. She should bring her knee up and hit him where it counts. But she could not move. Her heart beat frantically, her blood rushed like lava through her veins as her body responded to this aggressive male.

“My king!”

Eva’s sigh was a mix of relief and disappointment when she heard Falcon’s voice.

“Release her.”

The vampire’s mystifying obsidian gaze held her captive as he asked, “Do you want to be rescued?”

No, but her self-preservation cried yes.

The vampire gently brushed her bottom lip with his thumb and Eva shuttered.

“My king,” Falcon bellowed.

The stranger lifted his head and glared at Falcon for a long breathless moment. She could sense the tension that coiled in his body. Pure lethal power flowed from him like tidal waves.

Finally, he turned his attention back to her. Framing her jaw with his large hands, he bent his head down. Was he going to kiss her? Another rush of heat coursed through her and pooled at her core. She wished she could see his face. The shadows hid his features. All she could see were his dark as midnight eyes, which burned in the darkness, full of violence and lust.

He leaned into her, his solid chest brushing her breasts, causing them to ache as he sank his lower body against her. Surrounded. Hot, aggressive male surrounded her and—wild, she was wild with need.

His cool lips brushed against hers as he whispered, “Until we meet again, little one.” He disappeared.

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Amanda J. Greene creates paranormal romance for ravenous readers. She lives in Southern California, where she enjoys escaping the rewarding but hectic world of writing by spending time in the sun and sand with her military husband and their two dogs.


 
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