in love . . .
Casteel suspects the mysterious beauty has an ulterior motive. Unable
to resist her seductive charms, he soon hungers to mark her as his.
Only Bette disappears before he can sink his teeth into her tender
flesh, leaving Rollin with one mission: to find her—and to claim
her. . . .
mother-child bond to be the only kind of love she can sustain—the
only kind of love that can keep her alive. But she never expects to
feel so much for her strong and silent lover. Then she discovers
Rollin is none other than the heir to the Balinese throne—a man too
noble—too dear—to play a role in her dark scheme. A man she would
willingly die for, if only he would set her free. . . .
Bette woke from a sound sleep, consciousness returning with a burst of adrenaline. Eyes open and searching, she could barely make out a single object within her dark bedroom. She sat up in bed, perfectly still and listening intently for the noise she thought she’d heard. Had she imagined the footsteps? She heard nothing now. But if she’d truly heard someone walking, had they only passed by her door? Or were they inside her home?
No, she couldn’t pinpoint what had woken her, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was inside her home. Bette dove for the lamp at her bedside, and when she switched it on, the soft click echoed through the room. Her hand trembled in the glow of the light, and she drew in a shaky breath, afraid of who she might see standing in here with her.
Bette glanced around her bedroom. Everything was in its place. Nothing moved. No sound carried to her from outside her bedroom door, or even beyond, but she couldn’t dismiss this fear.
Something thrummed inside Bette, an intuition, a warning. Reaching to her nightstand, she curled her fingers around the handle of her jewel-encrusted letter opener she kept within arms’ reach. She poked her bare feet from the covers, then gingerly touched her toes to the soft carpet and stood, the hem of her satin and lace nightgown sliding down her legs to brush the tops of her feet.
Tiptoeing across her bedroom, she reached out a hand to her highbacked green and gold chair, steadying herself as she stepped around it and headed for her bedroom door. She slowly opened the door, but hugged the frame as she peeked into the great room. A part of her wanted to call out, to ask if anyone was in her home, but fear blocked out the words, choked off her voice.
Several nerve-wracking moments passed without a whisper of a sound, but Bette couldn’t put her mind at ease until she checked the locks. She would have to cross the great room. The soft glow of her lamp behind her did little to give her courage, but she dare not look back, not now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness ahead.
Crossing should be easy, just put one foot in front of the other. She could do this. Bette stepped into the great room, and suddenly something moved beside her, a shadow shifting in the darkness, visible from the corner of her eye. She jumped, unable to suppress her gasp of surprise, and scrambled back into her bedroom. There was no thought behind her reaction. It wasn’t as if the dim light at her bedside could save her, but somehow seeing what was coming seemed less terrifying than being attacked by the unknown.
Bette covered her mouth to keep silent, and to stop her lips from quivering. Her other hand held the letter opener, her grip tightening in preparation. The edges of the makeshift weapon weren’t necessarily sharp, but the tip was pointed enough to damage flesh. Would inflicting an injury be enough of a distraction for her to escape the intruder? She wasn’t sure. By the size of the shadow, she assumed a man had entered her home, and men were indomitably resilient.
With long, deep breaths, she forced her breathing to calm. She needed to hear beyond her own panic and listen for movement in the next room. If she could hear the approaching steps, she might be better prepared to strike. Excruciatingly long moments passed with no sound, no hint of movement. Had anyone been there? Had she imagined the shadow, and perhaps even the sound that had woken her?
Bette no longer trusted her senses, but this instinctual, driving need for self-preservation was difficult to ignore. With no further proof of a trespasser, she decided she needed some clarity.
The light switch to the great room was close. She needed to dash down the short hall and reach around the corner. Bette stepped from her room, and that shadow moved with her, followed her… It was her shadow.
She pressed her hand to her forehead. Lack of sleep had finally taken its toll. Sounds woke her, kept her on edge. Catnaps no longer sustained her energy, and now she was jumping at her own shadow. When she could no longer slumber soundly through the day, she’d tried to sleep at night, but sleep was not only illusive, it left her vulnerable, to both real and imagined dangers.
It was all in her head. Again. Bette loathed her fears, her confusion, and the lack of control over her life. Could she even classify this existence as life? Babette, the wealthiest woman in Valenna and the last of the illustrious Dautry lineage, had been reduced to cowering inside her home, fearful of the people living within her own city.
rules forever changed and his future in the hands of a mysterious
beauty who offers her life for his. Fiery-haired Cat survives his
feeding, fueling Navarre’s body and mind—as well as his suspicion
that she is one of the Forbidden—a lethal mix of vampire and human
blood. Yet that doesn’t stop the throb of Navarre’s desire, the
feeling that she is destined to be his mate, to hell with
consequences. . . .
never expects to feel so much for Navarre in the face of his savage
feeding. Which is why his offer of protection is nearly her undoing.
For how can she let down her guard when she has always walked alone?
But Cat has never faced an enemy like the one she faces now, never
felt such a powerful need to surrender to the force of love . .
alike—where survival is a skill, love is a weapon, and the most
dangerous act is to care for another . . .
bloodline. He is sworn to protect her, and that means eliminating any
threat to her life. But while on a mission, he is set upon by a pack
of demons, barely escaping with his life.
But her kind and loving nature resurfaces when she finds a man,
bloodied and dying. Moved to help him, she risks her future and her
life to save a stranger far below her aristocratic station.
as their love grows, Keir keeps his true identity a secret—and this
lie is not the only threat to their love . . . or their lives.
has left her lost on the streets of Paris. And apparently, Paris is
populated with something more than just humans. Vampires, suave,
seductive and oh so sexy, and one such warrior vampire has set his
sights on her.
screams, he rushes in and saves her life without considering the
consequences. Two problems: one, she’s a human and clearly aware of
his vampire qualities, and two, the men who attacked her were not men
at all, but demons. Their target, his beloved underground city of
Balinese. He can never let Faith go home again, but can she learn to
love his people. . .love him?
the rare case of an author who rebelled against reading assignments
throughout her school years. Now she prefers reading books in a
series, which has led her to writing her first paranormal romance
series: The Cities Below. She will write about anything that catches
her fancy, though truth be told, her weaknesses are pirates and
vampires. She lives in Ohio with her supportive husband, two kids,
one big fluffy dog, and four rescued cats.
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