The wonderful and ever so talented, Fiona Jayde, has made yet another wonderful cover. I mean look at how kick-ass these two are. He's moody and she is so ready to kick the crap out of some vampires; so Heather and Brendan. I love it! Thank you so much, Fiona! :-)
Killing Vampires?
Easy. Tracking someone? Simple. Helping, and protecting a Vampire slayer...
Bloody hard work!
Thirteen years ago, Brendan
Daniels made a deal with a psychic. In exchange for information on the
whereabouts of a Rogue Werewolf, he promised to help and protect Sofia's
granddaughter. Unfortunately, he had no idea what he was getting himself, or
his Pack, into.
Nothing about Heather is simple,
from her weird dietary needs to her life’s mission. The girl can handle
herself, but the promise to protect her soon becomes a need, and one that he
can't fully understand.
Vampire Slayer. Born Infected. Blood addict... but
not by choice.
Heather Ryan is the most recent
slayer in a long family line. Like all before her, she has spent her life
searching for her ancestor, Marko Pavel, the Vampire her family has sworn to
kill. If that isn't complicated enough, Heather is also a born
"Infected", and to keep her from becoming insane or giving in to her
darker side, she is on a very strict diet.
Grandmother Sofia has passed, so
now it is up to Heather to take the family legacy into her own hands, all
alone: or at least, it would have been, if her Grandmother hadn't sent a
Werewolf to help her.
What is the irritating Brendan
supposed to help Heather with? Sofia never told either one of them. But it
doesn't take long for Heather and Brendan to find out that the Vampires have
big plans, and that the fiends have waited a long time for them both.
Buy
Link: https://www.nobleromance.com/
~
* ~
Excerpt:
(Taken
from Chapter One)
The sudden sound of rustling
paper snapped me from my thoughts. I tensed, the awareness crackled sharply
beneath the surface of my skin.
Someone is in my house.
I walked through the open
living room door. A new scent invaded my nostrils. Tangy, manufactured, smelled
like expensive cologne. An unfamiliar, black travel bag sat tucked away between
the red leather sofa and TV stand. The papers rustled again. I stepped lightly
toward the archway that lead into the dining room, my sword still gripped
comfortably in my right hand.
"Your breakfast is getting
cold, Heather. I suggest you stop trying to sneak in here and just come in so
that we can get this over and done with," said the deep male voice within
my kitchen.
What the hell is going on? Why
is he in my house? How does he know my name? And why the hell has he cooked me
breakfast?
I took a deep breath, then
exhaled. I slowly walked through the archway into the empty dining room and
turned my head to the left to see a strange man seated at my kitchen breakfast
bar. He sat casually, in jeans and a forest green T-shirt that clung to his
broad, sculptured back and defined biceps. The sun flooded into the kitchen
through the side window and glinted off his copper-blond hair, which brushed
his shoulders.
"Are you going to come in
to the room or stand there drooling all day?" He turned a page of his
newspaper.
I inhaled again: nothing new
amongst the scent of dog, pine, bacon, and coffee, which meant he wasn't a
Vampire. I knew, because leeches smelled like mouldy, wet earth; not an
overpowering smell, but hidden underneath the products they wore. Part of me was
relieved he wasn't a Vamp; I didn't know why. A Vampire wouldn't be able to get
in here anyway. They could only come in with a personal invite, and since they
all wanted me dead . . . . No matter what state I'd been in last night, I
wouldn't have invited one in. So, who the hell is this guy?
I walked toward him, my sword
glinting in the sunlight as I gripped the hilt firmly in both hands.
"Who the hell are you and
what are you doing in my house?" I stopped three feet behind him.
"I'm not going to hurt
you."
"Wrong answer." I
pressed the tip of my sword into the firm space between his shoulder blades.
"I said who the hell are you and what—"
"Killing me isn't going to
help." He turned another page of his paper.
"I disagree. I think
killing the stranger who has broken into my house is a very good idea."
"I did not break in,"
he replied calmly. "My name is Brendan and I'm actually here to help
you."
I snorted. "Like I believe
that."
"It's the truth. Besides,
if I really wanted to hurt you, I would have. I also wouldn't have left your
weapons with you."
"Well, you're obviously an
eejit."
He laughed. "You have
serious trust issues."
"Trust issues? Says the
complete stranger who broke into my house and—"
"I used your house keys.
They were in your jacket pocket," he said. "And yes, trust issues,
says the stranger. The stranger who promises he isn't here to hurt you."
"Just because you say
you're not here to hurt me doesn't mean it's the truth."
"True. But why go to the
trouble of killing you when I could have left you lying in the car park the
other night and let the seven greedy leeches that were looking for you find
you, and bleed you dry."
Coming July 2nd from Noble Romance Publishing.
No comments:
Post a Comment