Copilot of the Blood Hunter, Daisy is a newly-turned vampire, and she’s hungry. Really hungry and it’s interfering with her plans for revenge. Unfortunately, the only thing that can distract her from said hunger is sex…which is a problem when she can barely refrain from draining any man dry within moments. But old flame Fergal Cain might just be the sexy-assed solution to her problem.
Part human, part cyborg, and with a poison coursing through his system, Fergal’s running out of time to find the scientist who has the cure. Unfortunately for him, the misfit crew of the Blood Hunter put a serious kink in his plans. And if the poison doesn’t kill him, the hot little vamp he can’t resist might do the honors herself…
Nina Croft grew up in the north of England. After training as an accountant, she spent four years working as a volunteer in Zambia, which left her with a love of the sun and a dislike of nine-to-five work. She then spent a number of years mixing travel (whenever possible) with work (whenever necessary) but has now settled down to a life of writing and picking almonds on a remote farm in the mountains of southern Spain.
Nina writes all types of romance, often mixed with elements of the paranormal and science fiction.
The only thing worse than having nothing to live for…is having everything to live for.
A small group of reapers and supernatural beings in Meridian, Arkansas are all that stands between humanity and the apocalypse when a fallen angel stages a demonic invasion. In their battle to save the world, each will meet his or her match, discovering the power of love…and the importance of risking everything to protect it.
How can the chance of a lifetime go so horribly wrong?
Mining Engineer Cole Hudson signed up for NASA astronaut training, but after washing out short of getting his gold wings, he retreats to Alaska where he stakes out a gold claim. When billionaire entrepreneur Duncan Janson offers him an opportunity to join a mining team on an asteroid, Cole jumps at the chance.
But nothing is as it seems. Former NASA reject and rival classmate, Tessa Hernandez, is also a member of the team, and from the beginning of the mission test flight, things go wrong. They soon discover they’re not the only ones on the asteroid. As they try to escape, they are pulled through a wormhole and back to the early 1800s New Mexico desert where aliens and Apaches may be the least of their problems.
I’ve always felt like an average girl … except for my strange relationship with death. You could say I like to court it. Whether I’m soaring through the air as a flyer for Specter University’s cheer squad, or speeding down the steepest mountain with only grace and balance keeping me from an icy end, I’ve always needed to feel a rush. But now Death is courting me―in more ways than one. First, there’s Rishi, a rogue death deity who has a penchant for annoying me nearly to my grave and whose intense gaze has the power to see right through me. Then there’s Hades, who I’d rather had stayed just a myth. Now that he knows I exist, he’s not going to leave me alone until I meet the same end as my mother.
Oh yeah, did I forget to mention her? I spent my whole life thinking she had died when I was a baby, but now I’ve found out she’s much more than dead. Fifty years ago, Hades banished my mother from the underworld and took away her ability to cross over souls―souls that have wandered lost through the world ever since. Now she wants me to clean up the mess.
THE ROLLING GREEN of her eyes was dimming fast, losing color and life to the quick click of time that beat out her days and nights, a perpetual circle that was now fading to a close. Light brown hair that had been recently styled into looping curls was limp against the black pillowcase―a metaphor for her wilted spirit, I mused, thinking offhandedly how proud my English professor would be at my thoughtful use of language.
I sighed. I didn’t want to be here.
When her eyes met mine, I knew she saw me for who I really was—what I really was. She reached out an eager hand to take mine. I didn’t want anything to do with it. But it wasn’t because her fingers were slick with blood, deep crimson dripping down her arm and fingernails from where she’d so precisely placed a razor blade to her vein and dug deep, thinking she’d be free of her pain. It was because her face reflected back to me all the times I’d felt I’d been given a shitty deal. Current situation: case in point.
“Hi,” she whispered, her once pink lips fading with every pump of her life, which was idly dripping away from her to the plush white carpet below. I could smell the newness of it, the fresh aroma of a recently laid floor. That’s going to be a bitch to get clean.
I looked around her bedroom, at the dance trophies and pictures of smiling friends, and wondered why. Why me? “Blake …” Hearing my mother’s warning tone, I looked over at her where she stood in the shadows, overseeing my tutelage.
“Why can’t we just call an ambulance? It’s not too late. They could save her,” I whispered fiercely, staring at the girl’s hand stretched out to me as if I were her savior and not her end. “We should save—”
“It’s not for us to decide, you know that. We are only here to bring souls over, not save their mortal lives. Take her, she wants to go.”
“And will she still feel the same when she’s looking down at her body?” I asked, not even bothering to check my mother’s expression when she didn’t answer. Suicide wasn’t a peaceful death. It was pain―that much I knew.
I choked back the tears that wanted to rise in my eyes for this girl, for me … I turned to her once more and leaned down, brushing a strand of her hair from her graying face. “What’s your name?”
Barely blinking, her pale eyes darted to me. “Carly,” she said, choking around her words.
“Just hold my hand and I’ll help you cross,” I said softly, forcing myself to meet her gaze so that someone would witness her ending as they had her beginning.
She smiled slowly, and I saw that in life she had been pretty. When she’d believed. When she’d had hope.
“The light?” Her eyes widened, glittering green for a brief moment in their otherwise colorless depths at the prospect of going somewhere beautiful after this life had been so cold.
I nodded, although I didn’t really know where she would go. I was only in training, but I hoped it was someplace good, where her tormented soul could rest.
She had small, feminine hands, I thought, as she laced her slippery fingers around my longer warm ones. She didn’t last long, her pulse giving one last flutter before sputtering out.
The room was suffused with the silence left behind in the absence of such a simple thing. The thundering lack of a person’s heartbeat had never seemed quite so loud. As life departed Carly’s mortal coil, her soul lifted from the body, but unlike some souls I’d seen that were light and buoyant, at peace with the next step in their existence, hers was outlined in darkness, and it rippled, suspended in space like a special effect in a bad horror film. Her gaze turned from her body to me, sorrow coming to settle on the slope of her bowed shoulders and in the recesses of her eyes. Regret was a fickle creature. It always came too late.
About the Author
As a girl, K.M. always wished she’d suddenly come into magical powers or cross over into a Faerie circle. Although that has yet to happen, she instead lives vicariously through the characters she creates writing fantasy and paranormal.
When K.M. is not busy writing her next novel, she serves as a freelance editor and writer. She has a master’s degree in journalism from Syracuse University and a bachelor’s degree in English-Lit from Nazareth College of Rochester. K.M. lives in Upstate New York’s Finger Lakes region with her husband, her extremely energetic little boy, and their crazy goldendoodle Luna (short for Lunatic)
Number of pages: 318 * Word Count: 63,770 * Cover Artist: Amygdala Design
Just one spell will change their fates…
Cordelia is a pawn of House Dorchada—a notorious noble family comprised of thieves, assassins and dark wizards. Desperate to avoid their poisonous politics, Cordelia plotted her escape for years, but her carefully laid plans are jeopardized when her father commands her to marry an aged lord of Frostever.
With only a few short months left before her wedding, Cordelia’s salvation hinges on creating a Sephra’s Tear—a forbidden amulet that causes overwhelming lust in its victim. A black market buyer promises a life-changing amount of coin as payment for the Tear, but being caught creating it carries a death sentence.
Two wizards are needed to produce the passion to fuel the erotic spell, so Cordelia recruits the aid of peasant wizard Nathaniel Ravenwood. Nathaniel has long denied his desire for the beautiful Cordelia. As a noblewoman and a Dorchada she is as dangerous to Nathaniel as a viper, but the fortune she offers is a temptation he can’t refuse.
Dealing in dark magic comes with a price, and Cordelia and Nathaniel risk losing their freedom—and their hearts. Their fates depend on the one spell that will free them, or destroy them.
Nathaniel’s study was located in the lower levels of the stronghold, carved out of the stone the city was built upon, where the wizards of limited financial means lived and trained. The décor changed with each floor she descended, the layers of artistry and comfort stripped away until the walls and floor were bare gray stone. Like everything in White Harbor, the lines dividing the wealthy and the poor were clear. Cordelia enjoyed the tangible privileges of noble birth, but she knew she wouldn’t have them for much longer. She’d gladly give up silk and perfume for the freedom that wool and sweat would bring her.
When she arrived at Nathaniel’s door she paused and inhaled a deep breath. Cordelia had committed many small larcenies, and a Sephra’s Tear would be the boldest sin she had ever attempted. Cordelia’s hand trembled as she raised it, and she knocked and opened the door when she heard him bid her enter.
Seated at the aged desk dominating the room, Nathaniel glanced up from the book he had been reading. Surprise flickered across his face for a moment before he rose.
“Lady Dorchada. I won’t have your money until the first of next month.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Then to what do I owe this honor?” Though the question was phrased respectfully, his tone was suspicious. She couldn’t blame him—a Dorchada at one’s door was never a harbinger of good news.
Cordelia stepped into the tiny room and let the door shut behind her. He had a desk, a small alchemy table and a stove for heat. There was one other chair, but it was occupied by a tall stack of books. She glanced at it and gave Nathaniel a pointed look. Rounding his desk, he cleared the books away and waved his guest to take a seat.
“Thank you.” The stiff chair was uncomfortable, but Cordelia sat in it primly. “I apologize for the interruption. I will try not to keep you long. I have a new business proposition.”
“You have my attention.” Nathaniel returned to his seat and watched her with a neutral expression. She hesitated as the well-rehearsed speech vanished from her thoughts. Cordelia cleared her throat and tried to phrase her request as politely as possible.
“I need assistance with casting a somewhat difficult spell, and I hope that you may be able to aid me.”
“What sort of spell?” Nathaniel tended to be brusque, and his straightforwardness added to the anxiety tying her stomach into knots.
“One that would require discretion, should you choose to be involved.”
Nathaniel sat back and folded his hands in his lap. “All of our dealings require discretion, my lady. Thus far I’ve been impressed by your caution.”
Cordelia nodded. “Thank you. It is a Sephra’s Tear. A potent Tear.”
The wizard’s dark eyebrows rose to nearly his hairline. He raised his folded hands, covering his mouth to hide his expression. She admired his composure in response to such an unusual request—he probably didn’t often have women arriving unannounced at his door to ask that he make love to them until they both collapsed. Then again, he just might, considering how attractive he was. Nathaniel was older than Cordelia, but not by much. Unbound, his long black hair fell past his shoulders. As with most wizards Nathaniel’s hands were slender, hinting at dexterity instead of strength, and he had high, sharp cheekbones that most of the noble ladies in White Harbor would kill to be graced with. His plain, charcoal robes were well made, but were durable instead of fashionable. Cordelia found his eyes to be his most interesting feature; pale, crystalline blue, Nathaniel’s eyes were mesmerizing, though they were usually filled with suspicion when looking at her.
About the Author
Robyn Bachar enjoys writing stories with soul mates, swords, spaceships, vampires and gratuitous violence against the kitchen sink. Her books have finaled twice in the PRISM Contest for Published Authors, twice in the Passionate Plume Contest, and twice in the EPIC eBook Awards. As a gamer, Robyn has spent many hours rolling dice, playing rock-paper-scissors, and slaying creatures in mmorpgs.