After fleeing her native city — and nightmares of a traumatic childhood — Sage Peterson meets the overbearing, pretentious, yet haunted Professor Elias. He’s the only one who knows about her mysterious powers, which seem to be spiraling out of control. When he convinces her to train with him, she finds herself thrust into a five hundred year war and on the run from vampires, werewolves, and even worse — her budding feelings for James Elias.
Erin Bolton knows her former foster sister is a sorceress and a witch, but she wants nothing to do with that world. The day before her twenty first birthday, a tall, dark, and terrifying vampire, Marcelo, turns Erin's world upside down. He convinces her that he was sent to escort her to the safety of the Underworld, where her sister is waiting. But she wonders, who will keep her safe from him?
They call her The Huntress. A vampire with lethal focus, Natalia hunts rogue werewolves and kills them without mercy. She buried her heart centuries ago. Now she lives only for revenge. But when she’s forced to team up with the alpha of the northwest werewolf pack to catch a werewolf serial killer, her carefully controlled world is shattered by the passionate Cristian. Will Natalia accept Cristian’s claim on her heart even if it means sacrificing a part of who she is?
Excerpt for Destiny Unchained
“How can you stand it?” Natalia asked, her nose scrunched in disgust. “It doesn’t smell anything like Chinese food.” The offending odor was called General Tsao’s chicken. It was unlikely General Tso Tsung-tang of the Qing dynasty had favored – or even eaten – fried chicken soaked in sickeningly sweet-smelling syrup. Take-out Chinese food was one of the many atrocities that made her glad to be a vampire. It was right up there with tanning beds and sagging breasts.
“And how would you know what real Chinese food smells like?” Cristian asked, popping a piece of chicken in his mouth.
They sat at the small table in the motel room, the six o’clock news filling the background as they half paid attention for clues. Sleep that day had been oddly refreshing, especially considering she’d shared a bed with a werewolf. Not to mention he was a blanket hog. “I spent a few years in the Kunlan Mountains during the seventeenth century. I know what real Chinese food smells like.” She opened one of the cookie packages and sniffed it. “What do they make these out of? Cardboard?”
He grabbed the cookie from her hand. “Miniature life lessons.”
“They make them out of miniature life lessons?”
A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest. “No, you’re likely right about the cardboard. But it’s what’s inside that’s important.” After he broke the cookie apart, he regarded the fortune thoughtfully.
“Well? What’s it say?”
His brows furrowed. “A handsome blonde will enter your life bearing words of wisdom and a big –”
He looked at her. “Not what I was going to say.”
She tried, unsuccessfully, to smother a smile. “Give me that.” She snatched the paper from his hand and read it.
Love is for the lucky and the brave.
“So,” Cristian said, waggling his eyebrows, “feeling lucky?”
She chuckled, wadded up the piece of paper, and threw it at him. He beamed, likely proud he made her laugh. Gods only knew why he was obsessed with it.
“Luck I get,” she said when they’d sat in silence once more. “But why brave?”
He shifted in his seat then sat forward, his gaze piercing through her. “Because, Natalia, love is a risk. Love from the depths of your soul requires a certain amount of sacrifice. It bids you to give yourself wholly to another. To allow someone to view you like a prism, assessing you at every angle, examining every flaw. You must lay yourself before them, open and bare, and say, ‘here I am. I hold nothing back. I am yours, mind, body, and soul.’ And all you can do is hope they don’t crush you.” He leaned closer. “But the man who truly loves you will tend to your heart like he tends a garden, nurturing it until it grows and blooms under his hand.”
She was on the edge of her seat, her gaze locked on him. Finally, she tore away and fiddled with her hands. Clearing her throat, she forced herself to say, “Well said, Romeo.”
Now I spend too much time in my head, plotting evil villains and the hot men (and women) who ruthlessly kill them. I think far too much about fae politics, dragon power games, and how fast werewolves can change forms. But writing my paranormal romance series has given me a productive place to express those dark places in my mind.
I live in New England with my husband and two kids. Though I will go to my grave denying it, my husband insists I would be thrilled if he suddenly sprouted fangs. Website / Facebook
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