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Kingdom of War

Title: Kingdom of War – Hunter’s Story
Series: Kingdom Journals #5
Author: Tricia Copeland
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Release Date: June 21, 2019

 

 
They were just imaginary childhood friends until Alena found in him in a library thirteen years later. In their quest to find the third of the trinity, they created a coven of witches, eight souls shouldered with the burden of breaking an age-old curse. But someone must lead, and from the moment he became a full witch, Hunter knew it had to be him. His power, the magic coursing through his veins, hungered for a life of its own. Can he control his own demons? Will Alena, Camille, and Hunter figure out how to break the curse or will the darkness consume them?
 

Tricia Copeland grew up in Georgia and now lives in Colorado with her family. Her books include the clean new adult Being Me Series, Is This Me?, If I Could Fly, Thinking You Know Me, and the final installment, Being Me, as well as a young adult novellas, Drops of Sunshine and the Lovelock Chronicles, Lovelock Ones: Native One, published in The Butterfly Box. If she’s not out running, you can find Tricia at www.triciacopeland.com or your favorite social media.

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Bridges Burned

Title: Bridges Burned
Author: Chris Cannon
Genre: YA Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Entangled Teen
Narrator: Julie Niblett
Audio Producer: The Audio Flow, LLC
Blurb:
Since discovering she is a shape-shifting dragon, Bryn McKenna has seen her world thrown into chaos. Being a “crossbreed” – part Red dragon and part Blue – means Bryn will never fit in. Not with dragon society. Not with the archaic and controlling Directorate. And definitely not when she has striped hair and a not-so-popular affection for rule-breaking…
But sneaking around with her secret boyfriend, Zavien, gets a whole lot harder when he’s betrothed to someone else. Someone who isn’t a mixed breed and totally forbidden. And for an added complication, it turns out Bryn’s former archnemesis Jaxon Westgate isn’t quite the evil asshat she thought. Now she’s caught between her desire to fit in and a need to set things on fire. Literally.
Because if Bryn can’t adapt to the status quo…well, then maybe it’s time for her to change it. 
The Going Down in Flames series is best enjoyed in order.
 
Chris Cannon is the award-winning author of the Going Down In Flames series and the Boyfriend Chronicles. She lives in Southern Illinois with her husband and several furry beasts.
She believes coffee is the Elixir of Life. Most evenings after work, you can find her sucking down caffeine and writing fire-breathing paranormal adventures or romantic comedies. You can find her online at www.chriscannonauthor.com.

Author Links:
Buy Links: 

 

Going Down in Flames: http://amzn.to/2C6jGhy

 

Bridges Burned: http://amzn.to/2BNRvQu
Trial by Fire: http://amzn.to/2Cij0Te
Fanning the Flames: http://amzn.to/2BMyDRL
Audio Buy Link:
Going Down in Flames: https://tinyurl.com/yb35sd7o
Bridges Burned: https://amzn.to/2x8fklj

Jaylior Series

Series: Jaylior Series
Title: A Flare of Hope, A Flare of Power, A Flare of Sorrow, and A Flare of Love
Author: Elodie Colt
Genre: Paranormal Romance/New Adult Urban Fantasy
BOOK 1: $0.99 ~ BOOK 2: $1.99 ~ BOOK 3: $2.99 ~ BOOK 4: $3.99
 
She was one of a few hundred in the world. A rare piece of evolutionary perfection.

 

His only chance of salvation.

 

But also, his ultimate downfall…

 

The night they killed her sister was the worst in Haylie’s life. That was until a bunch of lunatics attacked her out of the blue, and a boy sacrificed himself to save her. Another murder happening in front of her eyes. Another life taken because she couldn’t prevent it. How the hell could she go on, living with the knowledge that their deaths were her fault?
Dylan was the best Fighter in the compound. Strong. Callous. Fearless. The perfect soldier.
As second-in-command, he had a decent life with friends he considered family and women queuing up for one taste of him.
Everything changed when she showed up on his radar. Incredibly, a Natural. So unique, even the color of her eyes had its own name—jaylior. Ever since Dylan joined the compound, he devoted his life to protect people like her but failed. Twice. Two women who found a horrible fate.
He should keep her safe, but how could he when all he craved was revenge? When each time he looked into those eyes he was reminded of the painful realization she might be the next to end up dead?

 

How would you feel if you were gifted to wield nature’s greatest power?

 

Ever since Haylie found out she was a Natural—one of the rarest human beings in existence—she was determined to find out about her power. The problem? She had no clue where to start. What made things worse was that Dylan, the man who’d dared her to show up in his periphery, was now her trainer and eager to push her to her limits.
Dylan was on a mission to avoid Haylie. She was the reason his brother was buried six feet under after all. Still, as long as they were in the dark about her ability, she was a ticking time bomb. And of course, he was the only one who could defuse it. In the end, no one could have guessed what kind of power she hid behind those haunting eyes of hers.
He was just glad they still had a year or two left before her Awakening.
Little did he know that time was quickly running out…

 

He failed to save them—his soulmate, his brother, and her sister.
He swore to protect her.
Now he broke his promise a fourth time.
Haylie was glad her Awakening was over. She could finally handle her power, thanks to Dylan who was slowly but surely breaking through their friend zone.
And slamming right into something far more intimate.
Her luck was short lived, though, when she suddenly found herself in the hands of a psychopath. Kidnapped and deceived by someone she’d thought she could trust.
Dylan was on the verge of losing his mind. The anger consuming him since his precious Natural had been snatched away under his watchful eyes was maddening. The only thing he could do was hope. Hope of finding Haylie and getting her out of wherever the hell she was. Alive.
Because if he lost her, he would find no reason to fight through another day…
He became her lover. Then he became her enemy.
Now, it was time to become her savior.
Haylie didn’t know how much more she could take.
Her father? Mysteriously alive and determined to become a part of her life.
Dylan? Unreachable. Caught in an inner war. Trapped in his own personal hell.
Haylie just wanted it to end. But the game wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
Dylan was lost. Lost in an endless state of white-hot rage. Lost in his own torturing mind, tearing him apart little by little. Lost until she saved him, slamming right into his soul and slaughtering his demons while putting her life on the line without batting an eyelid.
 
She was the only thing stable in his life. She was the only one to make his past bearable. She was the only one to make his future livable. He’d sacrifice everything to give her the life she deserved, far away from the battles and the constant pain, but danger was once again hot on their heels…
Book 1, A Flare of Hope

 

My cigarette glowed in the darkness, and I watched the apartment through the haze of smoke. All the lights were off. Congratulations Dylan, you haven’t considered the possibility of her already being asleep. Worst cloak-and-dagger mission ever.
What now? Break in and sneak up on her in her bedroom? She might die of a heart attack. Not that I’d care, but this wasn’t my style. Damn, what was I even doing here?
There was a dimly lit courtyard leading to the backside which could help me getting a closer look. Maybe I could catch something through the windows.
Just as I approached the porch, the tip-tap of quiet footsteps resounded and something like keys jingling. Quickly hiding in the shadows, I saw a female figure coming up the steps.
Where did she suddenly come from? I should have spotted her on the sidewalk, but the streets had been clear. No human soul in sight. I remembered what Jimmy had said about the girl having a knack for moving on top of the buildings. Her hair was hidden behind a hood, but I could see some windblown strands sticking out in front of her face. She was panting, her chest heaving as if she’d just run ten miles.
So, this was the Natural. Damn, she didn’t have an ounce of imagination what burden lay on her shoulders.
She was tall, I guessed about five feet nine. Her clothes were plain black. It was obvious she wanted to blend in with the darkness. She moved with caution, her steps hesitant and her head whipping from side to side as if she feared for a creature to jump out of the shadows any second. Well, she wasn’t completely off base, considering I intended to do exactly that.
She turned the keys inside the lock, and the door clicked open. This was my opportunity.
Leaving my hideout, I rocked up to her. “Are you Haylie Bryceland?” I asked flat out.
Of course, the girl let out a shriek of surprise. She dropped the keys in her panic but reacted fast and snatched a baseball bat from behind the door. Huh, not a bad move. Her reflexes were astounding. Guess she had every right to be paranoid. Not that the baseball bat would help her driving off someone like me, but how was she supposed know?
The girl didn’t answer but just stood there with her wooden weapon, bracing herself for a fight she couldn’t possibly win. The way she held the handle—the knuckle of her bottom hand not pointing up the barrel, and her index finger not separated from the others—would make any baseball player do a face-palm.
I forced my thoughts back on track. She still owed me her name. And her confession.
In any case, I needed to handle the matter discreetly and avoid making a scene out here, so I repeated my question, trying to sound as calm as Jimmy. “I’m not here to hurt you.” Aren’t you? “Are you Haylie Bryceland?”
I took the steps up to the porch, and her grip tightened around the handle as if she was fighting the urge to recoil. Her lips quivered, but from the cold or from fear, I couldn’t tell. Her hood hid most of her face, but I should have been able to catch the Flare by now. And yet, her eyes hadn’t shown their natural reflection. Did I catch the wrong one?
“Why do you want to know my name?” Her voice was calmer than she felt. Demanding, even. She was walking on thin ice because tonight, I was her most formidable predator.
“I have every right to know. You are the reason he died, after all,” I growled in a deep timbre, not bothering to mention Ricky’s name. I wanted to know if she remembered it. See what it triggered in her.
Her first reaction was to backpedal with a gasp. Wrong move on her part because now I knew for a certainty that she was Haylie Bryceland—the third Natural I met in my life, right after Jenna and the sister, Shawna. All dead. Great track record, eh? And at last, the girl who was the reason Ricky was no more. To say I was stark raving mad would have been an understatement.
What she did next made me lose my cool for a moment, though. As if letting all her walls down, the bat slipped from her fingers and crashed onto the wooden panels with a loud clunk.
“Ricky,” she whispered, her tone so wistful it cracked its way right into my soul. Her hand moved to her trembling lips as if she was trying to hold in her sobs.
With a murderous glare and a wide step forward, I clutched her throat and slammed her into the nearest wall—too fast for her to react in time. Her hands flew up to mine, nails digging in in panic. I cut off her air supply with enough pressure to keep her from screaming, although I admit I was close to giving in to the need to squeeze just a little bit tighter. The world was better off without her. No… I was better off without her.
With my other hand, I yanked off the hood only to see short, piss-blonde hair. A fucking wig. Why was she wearing one?
Grabbing her chin, I bore my eyes into hers, but they were not the color I expected to see. No, it was something between gray and brown and looked completely off. On a closer look, I could make out the rim of contact lenses. A camouflage tactic. Certainly helpful to avoid attracting the Hunters’ attention. Unfortunately, not enough to avoid mine.
“I know what eye color you’re hiding behind those,” I spat, careful not to use the word ‘jaylior’. You never knew where Catchers were crawling around. Now it made sense why I couldn’t see the Flare—the lenses disrupted the natural light reflection.
My reproach made her shut her eyes and yank her head to the side—at least she tried, but my grip restrained her movements. Grabbing her wig, I yanked it off, and she cried out when it got stuck in her hair clip. Lush, glossy, dark brown hair lay underneath.
“Look at me!” I hissed at her, and she opened her eyes reluctantly. Damn, I couldn’t remove her contact lenses, but maybe it was better if I didn’t get to see myself reflected in those eyes. It would only remind me of all my failures.
First things first—I’m not an English native speaker. I live in a boring little town on the outskirts of Vienna, Austria, so probably very far away from you! I’m an avid reader and have been reading English books my entire life. When I write, I can’t think in my mother tongue anymore. For a long time, this was the reason I refused to take that leap of faith into publishing, because I feared I could never compete with the others. A year later, I decided it was worth the risk, and now here I am… Crazy!
 
I’m a hybrid steamy/erotic romance author. Doesn’t matter if contemporary, paranormal, dystopian, or urban fantasy—I write & read them all!
 
Relationship status—living happily with my boyfriend, not married and no kids, yet. I have a fulltime job in marketing and wish to make a living as an author. Let’s see how this will turn out in the future…
 
I’m too organized. Everything has its place, everything is planned. Also, I’m always busy and looking for work, which is pretty exhausting sometimes.
 
I have an uncanny talent for remembering faces and names, but I’m shitty when it comes to directions. I’m not kidding you, I can get lost everywhere, especially on ski slopes!
 
I love movies, my Kindle Reader, snowboarding, wakeboarding and sunbathing. I hate The Simpsons (I know, I’m probably the only person in the world, but I just can’t warm up to them), zombie movies, and fish (as in the food—got sick once and can’t touch that stuff ever since). 
 
That’s pretty much the short version of it. If you want to know more or have the feeling you need to stalk me, find me on the usual platforms.

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The Vogt House

Title: The Vogt House
Author: Quinn Slater
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Cover Designer: Silla Webb/Masque of the Red Pen
Publication Date: May 24th, 2019
Blurb:
The Vogt House is looking for a new owner. Someone rich. Someone willing to explore and expand its fairytale existence in the town of Decadence.Cy Hall, the newest Powerball winner, a man with wicked dreams, and the money to make all his dreams come true takes a liking to Vogt House. But Vogt House has its own plans for Cy, plans that take him into the fairytales of his youth. Plans that include most of the people in his life. And a plan to turn him into a creature of the night.In Vogt House dreams, fairytales and nightmares do come true.
Quinn Slater lives in a large town in Kentucky where many of his stories take place. His writing career began in mainstream fiction where he has published five novels. But then he found a delicious appetite for writing erotic fiction. As one college professor put it, “You need to go write the dirty stuff.” And that’s exactly what he did.
Quinn’s work features strong male and female protagonists and antagonist, all of who have just the right amount of sexy with a healthy dose of naughtiness. He was once asked why he turned to erotica. The answer was simple. He wanted to put characters in compromising situations and see how their carnal appetites helped them find a way to a pleasurable ending.
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The Sword of Souls

 

Title: The Sword of Souls (The Last Valkyrie, #2)
Author: Karina Espinosa
Genre: Adult Urban Fantasy
Cover Designer: Orina Kafe
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Blurb: Raven Romero lost the Sword of Souls to Fen and his sister, giving up the search for the only weapon that could kill Odin.
Instead, she teamed up with human detective William Callahan to find the drug lord responsible for Venom—a narcotic leaving dead humans and supernaturals in its wake. But priorities change when a greater evil threatens Midgard and the only way to defeat it is with the sword.
Being the humans’ champion isn’t easy, especially during withdrawal while trying to stay sober. And Raven is struggling with both.
Enemies become friends and new enemies emerge as the hunt begins for The Sword of Souls.
Buy Links
Karina Espinosa is the Urban Fantasy author of the Sins of the Fallen series and the Mackenzie Grey novels. Infatuated with travel, pop culture, and the need to write everything down, she spends much of her days in front of a computer working on her next book, shopping online, and listening to music. With nomadic tendencies, she is currently resting her head in South Florida until the itch to move strikes again. You can usually catch her on Facebook, Instagram and live-tweeting during episodes of Game of Thrones, The Walking Dead, and Orphan Black. Follow her on social media!
Author Links:

The Sword of Souls

 

Title: The Sword of Souls (The Last Valkyrie, #2)
Author: Karina Espinosa
Genre: Adult Urban Fantasy
Cover Designer: Orina Kafe
Blurb:
Raven Romero lost the Sword of Souls to Fen and his sister, giving up the search for the only weapon that could kill Odin.
Instead, she teamed up with human detective William Callahan to find the drug lord responsible for Venom—a narcotic leaving dead humans and supernaturals in its wake. But priorities change when a greater evil threatens Midgard and the only way to defeat it is with the sword.
Being the humans’ champion isn’t easy, especially during withdrawal while trying to stay sober. And Raven is struggling with both.
Enemies become friends and new enemies emerge as the hunt begins for The Sword of Souls.
Buy Link:
The Last Valkyrie: https://amzn.to/2NUYwW0
Karina Espinosa is the Urban Fantasy author of the Sins of the Fallen series and the Mackenzie Grey novels. Infatuated with travel, pop culture, and the need to write everything down, she spends much of her days in front of a computer working on her next book, shopping online, and listening to music. With nomadic tendencies, she is currently resting her head in South Florida until the itch to move strikes again. You can usually catch her on Facebook, Instagram and live-tweeting during episodes of Game of Thrones, The Walking Dead, and Orphan Black. Follow her on social media!
 
Author Links:
Buy Link:
The Last Valkyrie: https://amzn.to/2NUYwW0

Marked

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Book Title: Marked
Author: J. Jay Barrett
Publisher: Self-Published/ VPJ Publishing
Cover Artist: J. Jay Barrett
Genre/s: LGBT Urban Adventure, Fantasy/Romance
Heat Rating: 3 flames
Length: approx 70 500 words/206 pages
Release Date: February 20, 2018

Blurb

Never interfere. Those were his orders, and for centuries he stood by them, faithfully serving those that had given him his charge. Until one fateful night, while hunting, the young vampire stumbles upon a handsome, young stranger. Within minutes, Holden finds his peaceful existence thrown into a tailspin. Soon, it’s a race against time to save the human that he just can’t seem to get out of his head.

 
Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt

Chapter One

When Holden opened his eyes, the only light in the room was the orange glow of the sodium street lamps sifting between the wooden blinds from the grid of city streets, forty-four stories below, and the pale blue light of his alarm clock. The colors combined to give his stark white walls a purplish tint. The clock read 10:32.

Shit. He had overslept.

The sun had set hours before, which meant he’d wasted good, prime hunting time. If he didn’t hurry, all he’d be left with would be drunks, junkies or the homeless. None of which appealed to him. Most of them would probably taste sour and would offer very little in terms of nutritional value, their blood tainted with so many chemicals.

Before he slid out from beneath his satin sheets, he quickly scanned his local armada of Ismeros for any sign of trouble throughout the city. He had about fifty or so Ismeros of his own posted around Chicago. Various members of the High Council probably had another sixty or seventy. They lived their normal, day-to-day lives, yet kept a close watch for him during the day while he slept. He offered them protection from the terrors that the world provided, while they provided him with information and food.

Truth be told, had anything serious happened that day, the psychic connection he held with his Ismeros would have woken him from even the deepest sleep. It was part of a vampire’s long-evolved self-preservation mechanism, an army to protect him while he was most vulnerable, while he slept. While the need for an army of Ismeros had long since faded, the tradition of keeping them had not. The simple fact that he’d overslept was a sign that all was peaceful in the city. At any rate, it was still something he did every evening when he awoke, just to be sure.

It had been decades since anything tempestuous had happened in his domain. The last Strigoi to invade Chicago had been John Wayne Gacy. His reign of terror had lasted far too long. It had taken the Council years to catch up with and dispose of the rogue vampire. They would have caught up with him much sooner had human law enforcement not gotten in their way. The thought of the long-executed Strigoi still made Holden rage inside.

That bastard had killed one of Holden’s favorite Ismeros, Lukas, back in the 1970s. That boy had fucked like a champ and tasted like heaven, dipped in amazing and served with a side of remarkable. It still made Holden sad to think about. After all, it was because of Holden that boy had learned to trust vampires, which ultimately lead him to his untimely death. Holden still felt partially to blame and like a failure for not being able to save him.

“Should I just order takeout? Or should I go pick something up?” Holden said out loud to his empty room as he climbed from the warmth of his bed, scanning a mental list of Ismeros again, this time searching for any willing blood donors, who lived happened to live nearby, that might pique his interest. It was Monday. Which meant the bars and clubs would be relatively quiet in the area, yet none of his Ismeros were catching his attention.

He always did what he could to avoid the any of the Council’s Ismeros, never fully trusting them. Their loyalty lay with the Council, not with him. So, he always thought of them as spies despite working for the same team. “I’ll pick something up,” he decided out loud to an empty room.

He moved to the window, pulling up the generic blinds, which released a cloud of dust and looked out the city grid below. The orange shimmer flooded the room, illuminating his naked body in the window. He really loved this new apartment; it was too bad he wouldn’t be able to stay long. The Council forced him to move frequently, more so because they thought it was best, not because he wanted to. It was an attempt to not to draw any unwanted attention from a nosey human. Human neighbors tended to notice when the twenty-something next door always remained a twenty-something.

Holden had learned that lesson quickly in the years following the Great Chicago Fire. A neighbor had accused him of being a witch, which made for an exciting few weeks. In a stroke of luck, she’d ended up dying of cholera a short while later, and the attention quickly dwindled.

That age had been a bit more superstitious than today’s society, but the Council insisted he not take any chances, so every few years he moved to a different part of the city. He had found this apartment a few months prior. Its location on a penthouse floor of a high rise on Lake Shore Drive had definite perks. Lincoln Park, the lakefront playground that stretched from downtown to the far north side, was directly across the boulevard-turned-freeway, and it offered plenty of dark areas for hunting, chock full of potential meals. Joggers, bikers, various riff-raff, late-night walkers… to a Vampire, it was like an international buffet. Each and every one of them ripe for the picking, with the park affording all the necessary discretion to do so. It was quite dark; all the trees muted the copper glow from the city streets on one side and on the other, a hundred mile stretch of the black, open waters of Lake Michigan. He almost always hunted his breakfast here, granted, it was usually a few hours earlier.

Another option was to try his luck in the local bars and nightclubs that the neighboring Boystown and Wrigleyville had to offer. Being a Monday the only people at the bars and clubs around 4 am, his dinner hour, would be the hardcore drunks. And that much alcohol neither helped with how they tasted nor with how well they’d perform in the bedroom, both of which were equally important to a vampire. Tonight, he decided, he would exercise his third option, he would find an Ismeros to bring over for dinner, but breakfast he was going to be an excellent old-fashioned hunt.

His naked form crossed the room into the ensuite bathroom, and he turned on the shower. Steam quickly fogged up the enclosure, which was entirely made out of frameless-glass. He climbed into the black marble interior and let the hot water spray over his skin and muscles washing away any trace of his early morning romp with last night’s dinner.

The hot water soothed as it poured over his body. He massaged both of his shoulders with his hands. All of his muscles ached and burned. They cried out to be fed, burning for fuel. Every muscle fiber in his body was silently screaming out for food, having long burned off the meal from his tryst the night prior. Reminding him that it had been almost eighteen hours since he’d eaten. Jacob? Jake? John? Joe? He couldn’t remember. Johann? He had tasted Swedish, or maybe Finnish; it was hard to tell here in the New World. Everyone was a little bit of everything these days. Whatever he was, it was nothing spectacular, neither in taste nor his ability to perform in the bedroom. The boy had wound up being rather prudish and shy in bed, which was what Holden had expected from a boy who agreed to come home with him less than thirty minutes after they’d met.

Sundays had historically been very easy. The boys of East Lakeview were always eager for one last weekend rendezvous before they had to go back to the monotony of the workweek. Most them begging for his phone number before he sent them on their way, always remembering the incredible fuck, never remembering him feeding on them. He was still happy to oblige. A vampire was always on the lookout for new Ismeros, sex, and food available at his every beck and call, but it was rare that they ever actually called. Sure, he’d sometimes get a text message, but in truth, the sleek iPhone that he’d bought at the insistence of his live-in Ismeros, Marie, rarely left where it was neatly docked on his desk in the living room. He had no real use for the thing, anyone he truly cared for, he was directly linked to, with a natural, psychic link. By the time he would see the text message, the boys usually had moved on to the next best thing, and that suited this vampire just fine.

He emerged from the shower, wrapping his toned vampire body in only a plain white towel. The terrycloth fabric hung low from his waist, showing off his well-defined abdominal muscles and giving off just the slightest hint of well-groomed hair that it hid beneath its rough surface, as he walked into the living room. Marie was there, folding the solid black, Egyptian cotton sheets from his feeding room. He kept a second room strictly for feeding and fucking, having long ago been taught that you don’t bring your food into the bed that you sleep in. Things, of course, could always end up getting a little bit messy, with the inevitable exchange of body fluids.

“You slept late tonight,” she said, giving him a sharp look of concern, “Are you feeling okay?”

“I wish you’d woken me,’ he smiled. “But, yeah, I feel fine,” he said with a shrug of confidence. He was a vampire, and vampires never got sick. “Have you ever known me, or any vampire for that matter, to feel sick? I’m not sure, maybe my dinner date wore me out last night,” He smiled, remembering how attractive the boy had been. His name had definitely been Johann. “Speaking of, did you see him out?” Holden’s voice had long ago become very Americanized, losing almost all traces of its European roots.

“He left shortly after he awoke this morning,” she said, “looking just as confused as the rest of them. I’m not sure how you do it…” She chuckled.

“Talent,” he said coyly, a smirk spreading across his porcelain skin. “I learned from the best.” He, of course, was referring to his Sire, Damek. The elder vampire was nearly a thousand years old and had personally groomed Holden to be in the position that he was, Watcher for the High Council of Vampires.

“I find it hard to believe that you aren’t the best,” she flirted, “I seem to remember you being the best.” Her New Orleans accent was still discernable after all these years and always served her well in the art of flattery.

They, of course, had a very long history, at least in human terms, dating back to the late 1960s. He’d found her, homeless on the streets, ravaged by a rogue vampire, who had briefly passed through town. Having run away from an abusive home in Louisiana, she had nowhere to go, so he’d taken her in, raised her first as a foster child, then as a lover, but now she’d out-aged him, and things had come full circle. She loved him, Holden could tell, but not as a lover as she had in her youth, but more maternally. He felt a pang of remorse deep inside his heart. Holden had stolen her youth, taken her life and any hope she had ever had for a family. Next, he would steal her golden years. He shook his head to clear the thought away.

“I think I’m going to the get dressed and head to the park for some breakfast,” he said. “No strange late-night visitors tonight, I promise.”

“Good, then maybe tomorrow I will be able to sleep in,” she said with a nod and a joking smile, returning to the pile of linens at her feet. “Take your phone, please.”

He, of course, heard her request, it was the same request she gave him every night but like most things’ humans said to him, he didn’t give it a whole lot of thought. He dropped his towel into the empty laundry basket next to her feet, turned and his naked form walked back towards his room to get dressed.

About the Author

Jay Barrett lives in Chicago with his husband. A writer in the evening, he’s a flight attendant by day and an avid runner. Marked is his first novel.

Author Link
 
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