Brenda Dyer's Blog

Eyes of Another, by Brenda Dyer



Marty Angelo tossed his heavy backpack onto the rear seat of Kirk's green Acadian, and then climbed in after it. As he leaned back, he caught a glimpse of his face in the rear view mirror. Pale skin, thin angular features, topped with dark hair. He brushed long strands off his forehead. It needed cutting, but he wore it long on purpose—to hide his eyes. He hated them. One brown, the other light blue. A red vertical line, centered above and below his blue eye, ran from his brow to the top of his cheek. A birthmark that resembled a scar. Throughout elementary school, he'd been teased, called a freak. Scarface. The kids didn't know how right they were. As far back as Marty could remember, he'd had fits, as if a stranger would take control of his blue eye, and gaze out. His mother had taken him to doctors and psychiatrists, but they’d found nothing wrong.Marty turned from his reflection and glanced out the side window. He sighed, relieved his Physics exam was over.Kirk started his car. “So, how do ya think you did on your exam.”Marty glanced at Kirk then Steven, who reclined in the passenger seat, rummaging through his backpack. “I think I did pretty well. What about you guys?”Steven turned. “Same. Actually, I found it quite easy.”“You would,” Kirk said. He drove slowly through the campus grounds. Other students mingled, enjoying the April sunshine; a welcome reprieve from the usual rain Victoria experienced this time of year.Yellow daffodils bloomed in the well manicured gardens, and the pink blossom trees were on full display.Steven shrugged. “If you studied instead of playing video games, then you'd have found it easy, too.”“Maybe if you spent less time studying I wouldn't kick your ass as often when we play,” Kirk said. Marty smiled as his two best friends started an all too familiar debate about who was the better gamer. Truth was, Kirk could and did kick both their asses.“So here's the plan,” Steven said. “It's three o'clock now. When we get to my house, we'll play video games until six, then we'll study for our Chemistry exam.”“Sounds good,” Marty said as he relaxed.Once off campus grounds, Marty placed his head-phones in his ears and listened to his IPOD as Kirk navigated through the busy downtown streets. Two blocks from Steven's house, Kirk turned onto a curvy, tree-lined street.A deer leapt from the shadows.“Watch out,” Steven yelled while white-knuckling the dashboard.Kirk jerked the steering wheel. The car jackknifed to the left.Marty slammed into the side of the car, smacking his head on the window.The vehicle hit a tree with a grind force that sent the car skidding before it spun around, and then flipped onto its side. The sickening carnival ride kept going as the metal trap slid down an embankment.Pain laced through Marty's head and chest. The smell of gas clung heavy in the cab. Disoriented, he  tried to sit up. Bits of the broke windshield glittered all around him. A groan from the front seat shook the fog from his bruised brain. He looked around, trying to get his bearings. The car lay on the passenger side.Kirk, still strapped in his seat-belt, hung suspended in his seat, his head hung down at an odd angle, but no sound had escaped his slack lips. The groan had come again. Steven.“Steven.” Marty pulled himself to his feet. A wave of nausea rolled over him. “Steven, are you all right?”Acrid smoke from the engine slowly filled the interior.“Marty?” Though Steven's voice was weak it brought instant to relief to Marty.Marty climbed to the front. “Steven, can you move. We need to get out of here.” He glanced up at Kirk. Blood dripped from a deep scratch on his forehead. His face was ashen. He didn't move or appear to be breathing.Dread ate at Marty. “No. No. Kirk?”“Is he . . . is Kirk all right?” Steven asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.Marty quickly turned towards Steven, and unsnapped his seat belt. “Can you move?”Steven grabbed Marty's arm. “Yes. I'm all right.” His green eyes searched Marty's face. “Kirk? Is he--”“Crawl out the windshield. I'll unbuckle Kirk; you help drag him out.” Marty kicked the remaining glass, scattering small round bits.Steven pulled himself to his feet and crawled out. “Ready.”Flames erupted from the engine in a soft whoosh.“Hurry,” Steven pleaded.Marty unclasped the belt and Kirk fell into his arm, taking them both down. “Grab him. Hurry.”Steven reached in, grasped Kirk around the waist, and pulled him through the opening. Marty scrambled out. They dragged Kirk away from the burning, hissing car.Safely away, they laid Kirk flat on his back. Steven called for an ambulance as Marty checked Kirk over. Tears blurred his vision. He didn't need to check for a pulse, Kirk was gone; the absence of life was perceptible.“No,” Marty whispered as Steven came over. “No! Kirk, don't you dare leave.” Marty slammed his fists beside Kirk's head. “Kirk!” Sobs choked him. In his agony he felt Steven try and pull him off Kirk's lifeless body.“Marty--”“Nooo, he's not dead.” Marty gripped Kirk's face and stared into his empty eyes. Suddenly, Marty's blue eye moved, widening, taking in the scene. With a strength of will he didn't know he had, he shut that eye.He began to chant, words spoken in a language he didn't know, yet were clear in his mind. “What the hell are you doing,” Steven asked, his voice laced with panic. “You're. . . holy shit, you're glowing.”Marty ignored him. Kirk no longer laid dead on the grass beside the road, he now walked through a gray, swirling mist towards a warm white light. Marty followed.“Kirk,” he called out in a deep masculine voice. “Don't go.”Kirk stopped and turned. “Marty? Is . . . that you? You look different. Where are we?”Marty halted. “It's not your time.” He reached out and touched Kirk's chest.With a violent jerk, Kirk bolted up, drawing great gulps of air into his lungs. “Marty? Steven?” He panted, his eyes wide with wonder. “I think I was . . . dead.”Marty blinked. He glanced over at Steven, then the burning car. Sirens whined in the distance. Dizziness gripped him, he sagged, then fell forward, spiraling down, down through blackness, until he fainted.When he came to he was lying on his side on a soft mattress.I'm home. He opened his eyes. He was back in his colorless private chamber. The Sacred Dimension, or Heaven as humans called it.Mordecai sat up. He was no longer, Marty, a mere human. He was Mordecai, an angel of the Lord. God--The Creator of all life-- had sent Mordecai on a mission to find out if mankind was worth saving from Lucifer. But why was he back so soon? His mission wasn't complete.Ah, yes, he had brought Kirk back from death. He'd interfered.Sadness sliced through Mordecai's chest when he recalled the eighteen years he'd lived as a mortal. He recalled the people he came to know and love. He yearned to be back. Yearned for the messy chaos life was as a mortal.Was what he'd learned going to be enough to persuade The Creator to save humans? Granted, his Sire had witnessed everything Mordecai had with the use of  The Creator's blue eye, but was it enough? It had to be.The alternative was unthinkable.Mordecai sprang from his bed. He rushed from the chamber, and ran down a long stone hallway punctuated with many arched doors. While he raced through The House of God, he stretched his cramped wings high above his head.He slowed as he approached the Great Hall. He checked his appearance in a silver urn sitting on a low table. He stared back at himself with his own brown eyes. His angel's star shone brightly on his forehead.Murmuring voices drifted from beyond the arched doorway. Mordecai returned the urn, and made the sign of the cross over his chest. He folded his wings until they lay against his back. As he stepped into the throne room, he was struck by the silence. His brothers and sisters lined the path from the entrance to the golden throne, where The Creator sat. An unreadable expression graced His visage.Mordecai dropped to his knees at his Father's feet.Silence pulsed through the room.“Rise,” The Creator said.Mordecai stood. “My Lord, I--”The Creator held up a hand. “I know the whys of what you did. Your love for the human is strong. I feel it. Still, your interference is intolerable.”Panic brought sweat to form alone his hairline. “It wasn't his time.”The Creator's blue eyes bored into him. “That was not your choice to make.”Mordecai bowed his head. “I am sorry, my Lord.”Silence filled the canvernous space. Finally his Sire spoke. “What say you on the plight of mankind?”Mordecai glanced up. “Don't give up on them, my Lord. They are worth saving from Lucifer's evil clutches. He has turned the earth into a hard, cruel place, far from what you intended for your children.” A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. “Humankind is not altogether to blame. Lucifer's influence is strong. He tempts them at every turn.”The Creator leaned forward on his throne. “I have given my children free will. Yet what do they do with this gift? They choose to listen to Lucifer's whisperings over and over. I am no longer in their hearts. Most have turned from me, shutting me out.”“Sadly, tis the truth.” Shame filled his heart. “During my time on earth, even I lost faith, my Lord. In my heart I didn't truly believe. Life is full of struggles. Concern for food and shelter, pain caused by sickness and death take precedence. Surviving leaves little energy for worship.”His thoughts drifted to his mother—the woman who bore his human vessel. The hardships of life had aged her before her time. Raising a child on her own, working two jobs to keep food on their table and a roof over their head, had taken all she'd had, and she did it for love. He thought of the homeless, the drug addicts, the disasters that left people broken. All the hurt and pain that came with life.Mordecai's pleading eyes met the Creator's. “They are worth saving, and if you won't, I will try. I will die fighting for them.”A collective gasp filled the room. Mordecai glanced at his brothers and sister.The Creator leaned back and studied him. “I am surprised. Not long ago you agreed with Lucifer. You conceded mankind were nothing but a disappointment, a source of heartache for me. You concurred that my children should be destroyed.”“Yea, tis true, and for that I will forever be ashamed. I have walked in their place. I now know what they go through.” He sucked in a breath. “Lucifer must be destroyed. He has inflicted more than enough pain on your children. It is time to rid them of his blight. Give them the life you intended for them.”The Creator bowed his head.  “'Tis the truth you speak, but alas, my heart is for creation, not destruction. I cannot destroy what I have created."“Nay, you may not, but I shall. Set this task to me, my Lord. I will see it done.”“My angels shall not take a weapon to another unless death be to both of you.”“So be it. I will die for your children.”The Creator rose, stretched out a glowing hand, and cupped Mordecai's chin. “My son. You bring new hope to my heart. Though death shall not be the answer. I have another plan for Lucifer. One he will not see coming. Go to his hell castle and bring me back his Grace. I will send him to the earth to live as a human until I deem he is repentant of his sins.”Mordecai smiled. “Lucifer will learn firsthand the hardships of humanity. I pray he finds compassion and understanding as have I.”“There in is my hope.” The Creator reached beneath his white robe and pulled forth a golden dagger. He handed it to Mordecai. “Return to me the Grace I have bestowed upon him.”Mordecai clasped the blade. “Aye, my Lord.”The Creator kissed Mordecai's star.  “My thoughts are with you.” He touched a glowing finger to Mordecai's forehead, and all went dark as he fell through blackness. Endless it seemed before he landed with a jolt.Mordecai slowly sat up. Sweat from the oppressive heat poured down his face, and dripped from his hair. The putrid stench of rotten flesh and sulfur burned his throat, making him gag. He gazed out from the rocky cliff to the valley far below. A lake of fire surrounded by black mountains stretched as far as his angel eyes could see. A long stone bridge spanned the fire-lake. In the center of the ocean of lava rose an island made of ebony rock.His gaze followed a well-worn path in the black dust. The trail led to a dark castle far in the distance. Lucifer's home.He glanced upward. There was no sky, just black, scorched earth as a ceiling. He was in the center of the globe.Mordecai scrambled to his feet and descended the jagged peak. Once on the valley floor, a loud bell tolled. No other sound could be heard, yet he knew he was watched.Halfway across the bridge, Mordecai glanced down at the lake of fire. Millions of human souls squirmed like snakes, reaching out to him with blackened arms, and mouths wide as they screamed in agony. Mordecai tore his gaze from their suffering and continued on. Nothing deterred him as he made his way.The great castle doors stood open and Mordecai stepped through. Two twisted, hideous creatures waited. Mordecai pulled forth his dagger, but the creatures only bowed. In unison they said, “Our master awaits. This way.”He followed as they led him up a winding staircase to a closed door. One knocked before they departed. The door swung opened. He swallowed his fear, gripped his dagger tight beneath his white robe, and stepped inside. Across the room, sitting upon a golden throne, was Lucifer. It had been centuries since Mordecai had seen his once beloved brother. Golden hair cascaded to his waist. Beauty beyond measure was his face.Fluid as a gentle wave, Lucifer rose. A smile as dazzling as a thousand stars stretched his lips. “Mordecai, my brother. It has been too long. What brings you hither?”A shiver coursed through Mordecai. “I come to end your treachery.”Lucifer's smile faltered. “My treachery? It is our father who plays games. He betrayed us all. We knew nothing of His plans. We blindly did His bidding, toiling, slaving, never asking questions and for what? For God to betray us with his second children and give unto them our earth that we created?” He placed a hand over his heart. “It's ours. Father stole from me—us. For that I'll never forgive.”“The earth is not ours. It was made for humans.”Lucifer's smile vanished, replaced by a sneer. “Parasites, all of them. I will never bow to those usurpers.” He stepped over to Mordecai, placing a hand on his shoulder. His voice when he spoke was soft, hypnotic. “You know I'm right. You felt as I did at one time.”Mordecai's head swam; he didn't know what was right anymore. An overwhelming desire to side with his brother filled him. Suddenly, his Sire's voices filled his mind. “Be wary of Lucifer's voice. He will use it to dissuade you.”Looking deep into his brother's blue eyes, Mordecai stroked a finger across Lucifer's brow, right over the glowing star. “I know different now as you will soon learn.”Lucifer's face grew hard and he laughed. “Learn? I know all.” His eyes traveled over Mordecai's face. Disgust clear in his expression. “You're a fool if you think you can stop me. You know as well as I an angel can not kill another angel.”“Aye, but I have something else in store for you. You will become one of whom you despise.” Mordecai raised his dagger and plunged it into Lucifer's chest. Before Lucifer could react, he shoved his other hand through the opening. His fingers tingled as they brushed against his essence. He seized it.Comprehension dawned on Lucifer's face as Mordecai pulled back his hand. White light, blinding in its intensity, enveloped the chamber.Lucifer stumbled, sagged to his knees, clutching his chest. “No, you can't do this.”Raw hatred and rage consumed Mordecai, torturing his mind. The hand clasped around Lucifer's grace burned with white-hot pain.In a flash, The Creator appeared before them. He held an open golden box towards Mordecai. “Place what's mine inside.”For a brief moment, Mordecai didn't want to release it. He desired it for his own.“My son, let it go. It will destroy you.”With his hand shaking, Mordecai slowly peeled open his fingers, then dropped the ball of light inside the box. The instant it was gone from him, his mind cleared. “Father, I am sorry.”“You've done well.” The Creator straightened and turned to Lucifer. “Your reign is over. You will become mortal until I deem you worthy of my gift.” With a wave of His hand, Lucifer's soul rose from his head and was gone.The Creator closed the box, sealing it with a chant. “I and the world owe you. Whatever your heart desires shall be yours.”“You owe me nothing. I did it out of love.”A gentle hand cupped Mordecai's cheek. “Name it, my son.”He gazed into his father's bright eyes. “I would--”“'Tis done.”Marty Angelo tossed his heavy backpack onto the rear seat of Kirk's green Acadian and climbed in after it. He leaned back, catching a glimpse of his face in the rear view mirror. Pale skin, thin angular features, topped with dark hair. He brushed long strands out of his brown eyes. His hair needed cutting, but he wore it long on purpose—to hide the star shaped birthmark on the center of his forehead.Kirk started the car. “So, how do ya think you did on the exam?”    

Prophecy's Healing

Her love for him has spanned time.
After years of betrayal, Julia Murphy is starting over and attempting to leave her broken-hearted past behind. As a waitress at The Green Tree nightclub, she’s working to save enough money to finally take the college courses that will kick-start her new future. But fate has other plans. When two men viciously attack her, a tall, menacing stranger comes to Julia’s aid and thrusts her on a wild journey into a past that death has erased and a world she didn’t know exists.
His past and future collide

As the deadliest vampire warrior in the Surrey squad, Ace is feared and avoided, which is fine by him. He cares for nothing and nobody, including himself. But when he rescues a pretty waitress from a deadly attack, he can’t deny he’s drawn to her. However, this newfound attraction comes with consequences Ace never could have foreseen. He comes face to face with his tormented past, and Julia is the link. Now, he must decide whether he’ll fight for a love that’s spanned the ages, or if he’ll allow centuries old hate and betrayal to destroy their futures.








Available on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01E80C2LM?r...

                                            Prophecy's Healing, coming March 2016



True Love Takes Time and Acceptance

Chapter 1 from Prophecy's Healing, coming Spring of 2016



Chapter 1

Surrey, British Columbia, CanadaFriday, May 19th, 10:59pm
Ace slugged back the last few swallows of beer then slammed the mug down.  He got up from his seat situated in a dimly of the nightclub called The Green Tree, appropriately named for the neon sign in the shape of a green palm tree planted on the flat roof.“You ready to split?” Soren asked.Ace shot the blond, green-eyed vampire a quick glance. “Gotta take a leak first.”“Move it—the night’s wearing on.”Soren’s commanding tone and words grated on his nerves. Instantly, a flash of anger shot his already foul mood into lethal terrain. “Leave. No one’s stopin’ ya.”“You’re on probation, in case you’ve forgotten. You’re to hunt with a partner until further notice. And tonight I’m stuck with your sorry ass.”Probation. What a joke. A month ago while hunting, Ace came across a demon and human conducting drug business in an alley. During the fight, the human male had gotten in the way and ended up with his throat slashed—by the demon. Wasn’t Ace’s fault. He did his job as far as he was concerned—the demon now resided back in hell. But the Sacred Order didn’t see it that way. The human’s death had been splashed all over the news so the Order wanted damage control—and that meant Ace had to now hunt with a partner. The other warriors in the squad were on babysitting duty, a fact that sent his blood boiling.Ace ground his molars. “Wanna come hold my dick while I piss so I don’t sneak out the back door?”He didn’t bother waiting to see what the second-in command of the Surrey’s branch of demon-slayers had to say. He didn’t give a flying fuck about Soren, the other slayers, or the demons and the war for human souls. And most of all, he didn’t give a flying good fuck about following other asshole’s rules. The more others tried to enforce their bullshit on him, the harder he fought against the invisible tethers.He weaved his way through the heavy throng of humans. All his vampire senses were on alert for any sign of demons or danger. Inhaling, his brain processed the scents rushing up his nostrils. The smell of human blood and sweat permeated the air, along with the sweet aroma of different types of alcohol, but no reek of flesh rot that signified a demon was present. Music from the club’s Friday night band throbbed and mixed with the raucous laughter and shouts from the sloshed assortment of people packed inside.  Ace eyed a drunken human male who stumble out from the men’s bathroom. The piece of shit tried to do up his fly with one hand while the other clasped the handle of a beer mug. He blocked the entrance, swaying and mumbling as he fought with his zipper. Ace needed to use the can and he wasn’t going to wait for a dumb-shit loser to do what he should’ve done before leaving the room.“Move it, asshole.” Ace didn’t wait for a reply. He elbowed the prick aside then kept walking.A thud followed by an explosion of thick glass hitting the floor, and a string of curses signified the waste-of-skin had dropped his mug of beer.The strong ammonia stench of urine and the cloying reek of urinal cakes wafted out as Ace shoved open the bathroom door. Before he slipped inside, a hand clamped around his arm and pulled him to a stop.“Hey, fuckhead. You owe me another beer.” The drunk’s slurred words were clue-one the guy was hammered and not thinking straight. Clue-two, the fact the moron dared to touch and speak to a guy ten times bigger than he was.A slow smile took the place of Ace’s perpetual scowl. Show time. He swirled around and wrapped his fingers around the scrawny man’s throat. The guy’s bloodshot shit-brown eyes widened and a strangled squawk issued from his opened mouth, pushing the smell of rotting teeth and booze up Ace’s nostrils.Tightening his hold, Ace bared his teeth, careful to keep his fangs tucked up in his gums. “I owe you nothing. I gave you fair warning to move.”“Let...me...go.” The human clawed at Ace’s fingers clamped around his throat.One sharp twist and the pus-bag’s neck would snap—and nothing would make him happier than to see the glazed look of death in the piece of crap’s eyes.Fuck, he hated humans. If it wasn’t for the fact vampires needed their blood to survive, he’d side with the demons and help them rid the planet of the useless garbage. And once done, he’d turn on the demon pricks and annihilate their asses too.“Fight! Fight!” A small group of young males, eager to see blood spilled, circled around Ace, keeping a safe distance.A part of him wanted to give the fools what they craved only because the rage building inside needed an outlet before he exploded. But thankfully, he contained his wrath.The drunk’s face turned purple, and his lips opened and closed like a fish.“Punch ‘em, dude,” someone said from the crowd.Ace curled the fingers of his left hand inward, making a fist. The urge to pound the holy hell out of this cocksucker surged through him like a raging river.But what’d be the point? One hit and the fucker would hit the floor out cold. The fight would be over before it started.Besides, if Roarik caught wind that he’d caused a scene at The Green Tree, his ass would be parked in one those hideous chick chairs his squad leader liked so much, while enduring yet another lecture. Normally he’d take the risk, but tonight it just didn’t seem worth it.Maybe he was going soft?He smirked. Right.Ace glanced at the excited crowd, flashed a one-sided smile, then tossed the choking shit-rat toward them like a bowling ball.Four of the blood-thirsty humans toppled and dropped their drinks as the rolling drunk smashed into their legs.Ace laughed then waltzed into the john.Two men dressed in jeans and crisp button-down shirts, glanced over at him. They looked him up and down before dismissing him.Fury flooded him. Where the hell did these weak puke-sacks get off dismissing him like he was nothing but dirt?“Hey, fuckwads,” Ace said with a deadly snarl. “Get the fuck out.”They both stopped talking. The tallest of the duo glanced over at him. A frown wrinkled his forehead. “Excuse me?”“Excuse me,” Ace repeated the prick’s words in a high pitched voice. He lifted his lips and flashed his teeth. “You heard me, now beat it before I ram you both head-first through the door.”The shorter male ran a shaky hand over his close cropped brown hair. “Let’s go, Dan.”Dan, who obviously was short a few bricks, shook his blond head. “What’s your problem, man?”“At the moment? You assholes.” A muscle along his jaw jumped with anticipation. Christ, he wanted to beat these two to a bloody pulp. Didn’t they understand how close they were to getting their asses kicked? Were they that stupid?Sure, he was always spoiling for a fight, but tonight the need was more intense than normal.And he knew damn well why.When he’d woken up this evening, his mood had been at an all-time low due to a bad dream dredged up from his past. And he couldn’t shake the strangling effects from the nightmare. The only way he knew how to overcome his turbulent emotions was through fighting—though demons were usually his intended target, not humans, who vampires were supposed to protect.“Why don’t you leave?” tall, blond and stupid said with a holier-than-thou attitude.Blackness surrounded Ace, and his focus narrowed on the speaker’s flapping lips. Without another word, he marched across the white tile floor.The men shrank back against a stall door and raised their hands in surrender.Too late. They were leaving the bathroom through the door—head-first like he’d promised.Dan, the loser man, tried to run, but Ace snagged his shirt, jerked him back, then grabbed his buddy by the throat.“Stop—we’ll leave—just let us go,” military haircut squeaked.Blondie fought to get loose, but he didn’t have the strength.Ace dragged them across the paper towel strewn floor. With a violent shove, he propelled them out the swinging door. He caught a quick glimpse of the men sliding across the short hallway before they crashed into the crowd still milling around the entrance.The door swung closed. Ace dusted off his hands then marched to the nearest urinal.After he zipped up his fly and washed his hands, he exited the bathroom. The crowd had dispersed, but a waitress squatted down, wiping up the spilled beer with a rag. A dust pan filled with broken glass sat next to her pink sneakers.Her back was presented to him, so he couldn’t see her face, but her lengthy blonde ponytail slipped over one shoulder, baring her long, pale neck.Bloodlust reared up and his fangs slipped down. Shit, he’s quenched his blood-thirst three nights ago. He should be fine for another week at least.Ace stared at the column of the back of her neck, following the graceful lines as they flared out along her shoulders. The hot pink uniform she wore sagged off one shoulder, baring it to his gaze. Delicate bones and small muscles moved as she dragged the cloth over the floor.“Bloody drunken assholes,” she muttered. “Like I don’t have enough to do?”Her whispered words weren’t meant for anyone but her, but he not only heard what she’d said, but he caught the annoyance saturating her tone. And he found he liked her sass and anger.The thought of grabbing the little waitress and shoving her into the bathroom so he could sink his teeth into her throat, gripped his commonsense and wrestled it for control.But his rational mind warned him not to eat where he drank. Some of the other warriors fucked and fed from the waitresses working at The Green Tree, but Ace preferred hunting his prey in the mean streets of Surrey. He enjoyed the hunt—he didn’t want to be hand-fed like a caged lion.He forced his canines back into his gums and took a step around her.The crunch of glass under his hiking boot alerted her to his presence. Her head jerked around and her eyes widened. “Oh,” she whispered with breathless surprise.Ace’s heart ground to a skidding stop before it jumped back into racing action.Sophia?No, this chick wasn’t Sophia, but the waitresses’ features were similar to the whore he’d once loved—the betraying bitch who destroyed his life.The woman’s pale blue eyes, so much like Sophia’s, traveled over him. The rag fell from her fingers as she stood, then she took a couple steps away.Christ. Though his logical mind told him this wasn’t the lying, scheming slut from his past, their resemblance was unnerving.Intense hatred drop-kicked his gut. Blood pounded in his ears as murderous rage filled him from head to toe. The need to wrap his fingers around her thin throat and squeeze until her eyes bulged—until she breathed her last breath—pulled him in her direction.The woman backed up until her ass hit the wall next to the bathroom.He shadowed her movements—a low growl rumbled from between his clenched teeth.His sanity ripped. He fought to pull the shredded ends together, but he lost the fight. No longer was Ace in the short hallway at the back of the seedy nightclub. His mind transported him back to the night his soul had died.Screams of dying humans and vampires filled his head. Arid smoke burned his nose and throat, and the metallic scent of blood overpowered all.In the past and present, Ace reached for her. Her eyes turned round with terror—she knew he meant to kill her.“Help,” she squeaked.“No one can help you, bitch—you deserve to rot in hell.” Ace wasn’t sure if he’d spoken the words aloud, but they rebounded in his skull, ramping his hate and fury to dangerous levels. For what the calculating, murderous witch had done, death was too kind. She deserved to suffer the way he had.The burning reek of smoldering wet leaves rushed up his nose. Uncertainty yanked him out of his trance. After all these years he could still remember the smell Sophia’s terror from that night, but the fear scent surrounding him now wasn’t it.Ace shook off the last of the apparition. The echo of people laughing and the deep thud, thud of rock music coming from the nightclub’s sound system, drowned out the shrieks of death, pain and battle.The waitress cowered in front of him, but she didn’t try to get loose from the tight grip he had on one of her shoulders. As she stared up at him, she sucked in a hissing breath and winced.Ace released his hold and stumbled back a few steps. Instantly, she rubbed her shoulder, never breaking eye-contact.Fucking hell—he’d been ready to choke an innocent woman.She sagged against the wall, still holding her shoulder, and regarded him with a mixture of fear, confusion, and a healthy dose of indignation.I’m losing it—Sophia’s long dead. Why can’t I leave her buried?Because the bitch got the better of you.Ace closed his eyes briefly, trying to get himself back on an even keel.Although the hallucination from his past still skulked on the outskirts of his mind, he was clear-headed enough to now note the obvious differences between the two women.Both shared the same light blond hair color, but Sophia’s hair had been a mass of curly waves that reached her waist, while this chick’s hair was straight and definitely not as lengthy—mid back maybe if released from the ponytail.The waitress’ face was longer and narrowed at the chin, while Sophia’s had been plump and round. Another glaring variation between them was their body types. Again, now that his brain was thinking clearer, he realized they were as different as night and day. Sophia had been built heavier, with shorter legs, big tits and broader hips. This lady was taller, slimmer—more athletically built—and her tits and ass were small. In fact, her breasts hardly filled out the front of her hot pink uniform.But their eyes...the waitress’ eyes were carbon copies of Sophia’s: almond shaped, with pale blue irises and long lashes. Except where Sophia’s lashes were the same fair color as her hair, the stranger’s were coated with black mascara.Ace swallowed as he stared at her lips. They were full and what some called pouty, and they looked soft. Sophia had lips exactly the same size, shape and rosy color.Eyes and lips. That’s where the familiarities ended.But that wasn’t completely true. There was something more about the little waitress that reminded Ace of the Sophia, but he couldn’t put his finger on.You’re insane. That’s what going on. The bitch is dead! She’s worm food.Tremors started in his legs and soon enveloped his body. His teeth chattered and sweat soaked his hair. Blackness closed in on him. Ace sucked in air, but he couldn’t get it to stay in his lungs.“Hey, Mr. Are you okay? Are you ill?”Her quiet voice slid up his spine like icy fingers and goose bumps spread like cold fire over his skin.No, I’m not okay. Ace nodded.Concern replaced the apprehension in her eyes. “You look like you’re about to faint?”“I’m fine,” he snarled through clenched teeth.She looked him over then swallowed. “Were you having a seizure?”“No.” He didn’t bothering telling her he’d been a tweak away from snapping her neck.Ace ran a hand through his hair and pushed the tattered mass away from his hot face. Without another word, he stormed passed her and headed to the back exit.He hammered down on the bar and kicked open the metal door, and then staggered out onto the grated landing. The cool night air hit his overheated face, and a stiff breeze blew through the sweat-soaked strands of his hair like fingers.Fog created hazy light halos around the tops of street lamps, while tendrils of low-level clouds drifted amongst the six cars parked in a line near a six-foot concrete divider.Off in the distance, a foghorn bellowed, warning any boats in the area to be on alert for hazards.The dense clouds reminded him of the thick smoke blanketing the courtyard of his family’s castle from the many fires burning—fires set by a clan of vampire slayers—Sophia’s father’s clan...Sophia...you worthless slut. You manipulative whore.Two strides propelled Ace across the landing. He grasped the hand railing and squeezed so hard the iron groaned then slowly bent.He smiled as he imagined it was the betraying bitch’s neck he strangled.A picture of the waitress’s pale, frightened face filled his head. His grin vanished, and a shot of panic tore through his gut. Once more, his muscles shook. He released the handrail and shoved his trembling hands into the pockets of his lumber jacket.Christ, he could’ve killed her.Since the night of Sophia’s death, he’d been skating on mental thin ice, but he hadn’t fallen through yet. Or had he?The other warriors saw it. They told him many times he was dangerous and insane—a sadistic freak. But fuck them. They had no idea what he lived through.He carried Sophia’s ghost and her treachery with him for one reason: to remind himself love was nothing but a fucking farce, designed to make a man let his guard down so a scheming slut could ram a poison dagger through his heart. Yet, tonight his actions had him questioning his sanity for the first time.For the first time? Bullshit. I’ve been sliding downhill for over three hundred years.Pain flared in his chest as memories crawled through the murk toward the surface of his mind.He gripped the sides of his skull and pushed, forcing them to retreated into the recesses of his brain.No! She wouldn’t win—he wouldn’t allow it. She’d already stolen enough from him.When he felt he had himself more under control, Ace blinked and took in a few deep, calming breathes. A couple of young human females walking past the back parking lot of The Green Tree caught his attention. They giggled and one flipped blond hair over her shoulders.The street lamp illuminated both women as they strolled under it. The blond reminded Ace of the waitress: tall, lithe and pretty. He followed them with his stare until they rounded the corner and disappeared.Again, his head filled with images of the waitress. Now that he was calmer, small details of her appearance came to him. She was tall, the top of her head had reached his chin, and he stood about six-foot-five. Though thin, her elegant curves were very feminine, and she had long, shapely legs. He wondered if her pussy was as blond as the hair on her head. Or maybe she shaved her pubic hairs like so many women today—a look he liked a lot.His cock moved, then lengthened. Desire wrapped sensual ropes around him. Yeah, he’d like to get between her legs. A vision of her hands braced against a wall with her ass bared and the skirt of her uniform bunched around her waist sharpened his lust. His fangs slid down and he licked his lips. While he fucked her, he’d shove her hair aside and bite her on the shoulder, hard.He closed his eyes and allowed his imagination to pull him down. Oh yeah, he wanted to taste her blood as he thrust his cock in and out of her.Though, he’d screwed and fed from many women over the years, he did so mainly out of necessity. So the fact he wanted the waitress was a welcomed distraction. And Ace always took what he wanted.He glanced behind at the closed door. No doubt after what happened earlier, she’d be wary of him, but that didn’t matter. In fact, her fear would only heighten the experience for him. Besides, she wouldn’t remember a goddamn thing because he would erase it from her mind the moment he blew his load.
A slow smile dragged one side of his lips upward. Tonight, after the nightclub closed, he’d be waiting for her.

Prophecy's Origin

Before humans and vampires. Before the war and the Vampire Prophecy, The Creator made the angels. Following His instructions, these heavenly offspring created the Earth.Filled with pride and love for what he helped build, Lucifer desires ownership of this wondrous planet. But when he learns the true meaning behind the Earth’s creation, Lucifer retaliates and starts an evil chain reaction that threatens not only the existence of mankind, but also the survival of the vampires sent to protect them.
This is the story of Lucifer’s rebellion and the affects that have echoed down through the ages...



Forgotten RealmPresent day…
Demons scattered as Lucifer stormed across the stone floor of his dungeon. He stopped and glowered at the thousands of human souls locked behind the enchanted metal bars of what he called the Holding Cage. The sallow faces of the spirits showed their fear. As a group, they shrank as far back as they could from the bars.Good. The pieces of shit understood who and what he was. He was King, and their fate was in his hands. And he knew from experience they’d beg for mercy. But they’d get none from him. Ever.As he eyed the ghostly figures, hatred grew until his frame vibrated. Humans were the bane of his existence. These sniveling, weak, worthless creations had ruined his life—stole everything that meant anything to him.Because of humans, all that he held dear had been stripped away. The joy and love that had once filled his heart and soul had turned to bitterness and hate.So no, they’d receive no mercy. And why should they? Did they show mercy to their victims? Did they show mercy while raping, killing, and stealing?No.Here, in the realms of Hell, they would get what they deserved, plus more.But more importantly, his Father would get what He’d deserved for lying, stealing, and cheating Lucifer out of what was his!“Take them to the Pit,” he snarled to his servants.“Yes, Lord Lucifer.” A demon bowed its blackened head before hurrying toward the cage. Scraggly brown hair floated around its bony shoulders. With a jerk, it came to an abrupt halt, frozen in place by invisible restraints. Lucifer had stopped the fucker in its tracks with his mind. He’d warned them repeatedly to address him by his new name. No longer did he want to use the name his Father had bestowed upon him. 
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Prophecys-Origi...

Snippets From The Prophecy Series





Love's Prophecy, book #1



Breeana stared at Mel, appalled by his words. The gardens—the beauty of the evening—forgotten.He cleared his throat. “The first memory I had as a child was of my father dragging me from the slave dungeon and locking me in the killing cage.”She jerked back. His arm slid from around her shoulders. “The what?”His eyelids lowered as he looked at the grass. “It was an iron box suspended from the top of the castle by a chain. The front had narrow slits, just wide enough to allow the morning sun to shine in. He used the cage to punish his slaves or his soldiers, hell, sometimes just for sport.”“Oh my God!”Mel's gaze drifted out over the yard. The look on his face told her he no longer saw the gardens or smelled the perfume scented air. His mind must have drifted back hundreds of years, reliving what sounded like a horrific nightmare.“When I realized what he was about to do, I panicked. I fought back but I was young, maybe four or five. My arm snapped as he shoved me inside, but I didn't feel the pain, it paled in comparison to the terror I felt when I heard the lock click.”His eyes filled with terror and bounced around like the eyes of a trapped, frightened animal. “I knew what was coming. I'd heard the screams of others who had burned alive.” He swallowed. A trickle of sweat coursed down his temple. “I clawed at the bars, pleaded with my father, but he just laughed.”His words chilled her to the bone. Nausea churned her stomach.“I tried to sift—disappear—but vampires can't sift through metal or rock, and the spaces between the bars were too narrow. I was trapped. I…I continued begging my father to release me. Then as the first rays touch my skin, just when the pain began, he ordered his soldiers to pull the cage back in.”Numbness spread through her. She opened her mouth, but shut it. What did you say to someone who had lived through such a traumatic experience?
“That was the first, but not the last time he locked me inside,” he said in a flat tone. “Each time he pulled me back in. I don't know why he didn't end it there.”
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00702YWF0
Prophecy's Child, book #2

Katherine busied herself by unzipping her suitcase and stacking her clothes on the bed. She sensed Kal behind her, but didn’t acknowledge him.“Katherine?” Kal cleared his throat. “I know it’s been a huge inconvenience quitting your job and moving in here, but I hope we can at least be civil to one another while you’re here.”Her boss’s angry face flashed through her mind. When Katherine quit her job—with no notice—Michelle had been livid. She walked over to the dresser, yanked open the top drawer, and dumped her load of clothes inside. “I’ll try, but I’m not promising anything,” she said through gritted teeth.He cursed under his breath.She wheeled around. “What the hell more do you want from me?”“You don’t want to know.”She slammed the drawer shut. “Try me.”“You sure?”“May as well get it all out on the table.”He closed the door; the lock clicked into place. Fear of being alone with him took the edge off her fury.Heat from his gaze burned through her clothing. “I want you naked on my bed. I want to see you smile, hear you laugh.” He pushed away from the door and stalked toward her from across the room. Lifting a hand, he caressed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “I want you to love me again. But most of all, I want your forgiveness.”His fingers traced the contours of her jaw, her neck. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I love you—I always have.”Her mind screamed run, but her feet remained rooted to the floor. Each word chipped away at her defenses.Leaning closer, his lips gently brushed hers. “All I’ve ever wanted was your happiness.”His tongue outlined the seam of her mouth. Desire scorched her willpower. Without thinking, she opened for him, and his tongue swept inside. A deep groan tore from his throat as his arms tightened around her.
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00E0R4230
Prophecy's Power, book #3

With both hands covering Soren’s pecs, Natalie pushed harder. “Get off me,” she snarled through gritted teeth.“What?” He placed his hands on the mattress and reared up. The muscles in his arms shook. Sweat dampened his hairline and glistened on his cheeks. “I don’t think I heard you correctly, ‘cause I swore you told me to get off you.”She leveled a hard glare at him. “You heard me. Now get off.” For emphasis, she heaved under him.He scowled. “Why the sudden change of heart? And don’t bother saying you weren’t into it. Believe me, sweetheart, I know you’re as hot for me as I am for you.”“I’m not!” Jesus, she sounded like a petulant child, which sparked her anger. It irritated her he could read her so well. Whatever. She’d put an end to any ideas he had. “I knew you couldn’t be trusted.”“What the fuck does that mean?”“You promised you wouldn’t rape me, but here you are, forcing yourself on me.” Oh, that was low. Guilt turned her gut sour.His expression darkened. All traces of bewilderment evaporated. Fury took its place. He jumped up as if he couldn’t get away from her fast enough—and she didn’t blame him.He paced the room, running both hands through his short hair. On his third trip around, he stopped and a low growl grew in volume. Slowly, he glanced sideways at her. His fierce appearance said he wanted nothing more than to strangle her.She gulped and slammed her knees together before scurrying into to a sitting position.“Rape?” he asked in a deceptively calm voice. “That’s the label you’re trying to slap on what was happening between us?” Fear held sway, keeping her from nodding.“So, it wasn’t my name you called out? It wasn’t me you begged to touch you?” Turning so he faced her full on, he crossed his arms. Powerful muscles along his shoulders bunched.Oh, dear, God! Did she actually say the words from her dream out loud?Her cheeks flamed, and she glanced away, not wanting to see the truth in his accusing glare.Dammit. She couldn’t win with this guy. But the last thing he needed was a bigger head. In a situation like this, best course of action was to deny, deny, deny.She copied his folded arms motion—though his was an intimidating gesture. Hers was more of a hope-he-doesn’t-see-my-heart-pounding gesture.Natalie raised her chin in defiance. “No for both questions. I woke to you shoving your tongue down my throat.”Oh shit, wrong answer. Redness crept over his face and his lips rippled like a snarling dog’s.She had the smarts to shrink back.The next second, he was alongside the bed. His fingers bit into the flesh of Natalie’s arms as he hauled her off the mattress. She hit the unyielding wall of his chest with a teeth-jarring thump.Barely controlled murderous rage simmered in his eyes. “I guarantee you if I ripped off your pants, I’d find you wet and ready for me.”Although crude, his words sent more moisture to her sex. Lust destroyed her pride and unease. If he dared take off her jeans—if he touched her core—she’d cum for sure, then all her protests and lies would be proven false.He pulled her closer. “Listen to me carefully, little lady. We will have sex. And I promise you this, when we do, you’ll beg me for it. There’ll be no rape involved, got it?”Soren dropped her back on the bed then stormed out of the room, slamming the door. Natalie sat in the dark room, gaping at the closed door.
Amazon: : http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00KZ4JFIE
Prophecy's Language, book #4

Determined to break through Sin’s defenses, Eleanor stroked her fingers over the soft skin above the collar of his shirt. “You heard me.”He stumbled backward, not stopping until he was across the room. As he gripped the counter, his knuckles glowed white. “Are crazy?”“No. I want this, Sin. I want you.” She took a step then stopped when he looked ready to bolt.“Forget it, Princess. Ain’t happening.”“But—”“But nothing.” He stormed over to the entrance. “I’m taking you to Breeana’s, now.”She chased him into the living room. “I know you want me, so why are being so damn stubborn?”He whirled around. The blatant confusion and fear in his eyes almost stopped her from pressing the issue—almost, but not quite.His mouth pulled into a snarl, revealing more of his fangs. “Why are you being so damn stubborn?”The sight of his canines boiled her blood and strengthened her desire. With her hands clasped tightly together, she raised her head. “Because I want you—I want this. Look, we’re two consenting adults here. And I was married for ten years, so I’m no virgin. But I’ve also been divorced for a quite some time, and I...” Her courage faltered, but she kept going. “I haven’t been with a man since.”“I told you. I’m not a man, Princess.”“I know that, but I—”“Lady, you have no clue what you want—you’ve no clue who I am. If ya did, you sure as shit wouldn’t want anything from me, especially sex.”Eleanor was about to say he underestimated himself, but remembered how angry he’d gotten when she’d said something similar earlier that morning. “I’m not a child. I know what I want, and that’s you.”Sin narrowed his eyes, his body rigid. “You do understand you’d only be just another fuck to me—another notch on my very lengthy belt of conquests. There’ll be no feelings involved. I have none to give, and I ain’t interested in any from you.”His words took the wind out of her desire. Damn. In the face of his direct declaration, could she go through with it?Yes. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, so don’t stop now. You know he’ll never shower you with love—and you don’t want his love, just mind-blowing sex.“I understand perfectly,” she whispered. “And I’m not looking for love.”Sin didn’t move or speak, but his eyes said it all. He wanted her as much as she wanted him.Eleanor’s muscles vibrated, and her breasts swelled with anticipation. Did he need her to come to him? Make the first move?So be it. Walking on trembling legs, she slowly closed the gap between them. Each step brought her closer to what she craved.“Princess,” he said with a groan. His dark gaze latched onto her breasts then snapped to her face. “Are you sure about this?”“Never been more sure of anything in my life.” And she hadn’t. She needed Sin. Why, she couldn’t explain—and didn’t care to right now. All she knew was she had to feel him next to her, inside her—holding her.Just before she reached him, he raised a hand, signaling her to stop. Panic flared in his eyes. His jaw snapped tight, and he moved farther from her.“Sin?” He was ready to run; she saw it clearly in his body language.“I’m leavin’.” He grabbed his jean jacket off the floor next to the leather chair.“Why?” The disappointment in her tone was obvious as the panic stamped on his face. “Because I’m saving you from making the biggest mistake of your life.” Sin shot her a look full of regret then disappeared.
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00VB0P84G

The time has come for the release of Prophecy's Language, book #4 in the Prophecy Series.


She longs to hold him forever. He fears her hold on his heart.



She’ll need persistence to break through to his heart
Author Eleanor Donavon’s life is finally going her way. She kicked her mentally abusive ex-husband to the curb, and her writing career is taking off. But her contented world changes when a stranger, who’s the spitting image of one of her fictional vampire warriors, appears in her home on the pretense of whisking her away on a vacation. Believing him to be a cover model sent by her agent, Eleanor takes him up on his offer in hopes of getting to know him better. When she learns the truth about who he is, and the reason behind her imprisonment, her existence is rocked to the core. Now caught in the brutal politics surrounding the vampires, her only hope of surviving is to trust Sin. To complicate matters, she’s spellbound by the fierce warrior and falling for him hard. With her heart at stake, she must somehow break through his icy defenses to the man inside or forever lose him to his haunted past.
Her love gives him the faith to live again

Sin lives by his own code: don’t care for anyone and you won’t let them down. His past actions taught him that valuable lesson. When he receives the mission to abduct Eleanor, a beautiful author writing about the Vampire Prophecy, his heart jolts awake. For the first time in years he yearns to go against his principles and make her his forever, but fear won’t allow it. When she becomes a target of the Sacred Order, Sin risks his career to save her, but the real danger lurks when he realizes he can’t stop his head-on collision with love. 
Currently only available on Amazon.http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00VB0P84G
  

                                     Prophecy's Language


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Prophecy Series

Prophecy's Language, Book #4 in the Prophecy Series.



Chapter 1Chapter 1
Thursday, February, 06th, 2:08pmSquamish, British Columbia, Canada
“I’m having a little...trouble with my latest book,” Eleanor Donavon admitted to her agent as she trapped her phone against her shoulder and tried to rub the tension from her forehead.A little trouble? More like woolly mammoth-sized trouble.“You’ll figure it out. You always do,” Jackie said. “I have complete faith in you, as does your publisher.”Eleanor nodded, listening as her agent reminded her she didn’t need to worry. There was plenty of time before her next novel was due to hit the stores. A year to be exact. But Jackie didn’t know Eleanor was suffering writer’s block for the first time since she began writing five years ago.Jackie’s confident voice traveled the airwaves from her office in New York. “Take a few weeks off—do a little traveling. Rest your brain before you burn yourself out. You’ve written three full-length books this past year. And your new series is burning up the charts.”Eleanor shifted the phone to her other ear, then sighed. “I hope you’re right.”The sound of a lighter rasping, then a deep inhale told her Jackie was lighting up. From out of nowhere, the urge to smoke blindsided Eleanor, which was strange. She’d left that filthy habit in the cigarette butt filled ashtray years ago. And like most reformed smokers, she hated it now. This need to smoke had to be caused by her writer’s block.“Of course I’m right,” Jackie said with a laugh. “Have I ever steered you wrong?”“No, but—” The words she was about to say jammed in her throat like logs down a narrow river. She couldn’t put a voice to her worries in case that cemented the block good and tight. Forever.Eleanor picked up her glass of wine and took a sip.“But what?”Best to keep this block business to herself. For now, anyway. But she wanted off the phone, and the quickest way to achieve that goal was to tell Jackie what she wanted to hear. “Nothing. And you’re right. I do need a break. Maybe I’ll take a trip to England and visit my sister.” Wasn’t going to happen. Eleanor and Becky hadn’t spoken a word since their father’s funeral three years ago, and before that, was their mother’s funeral, nine years previous.“There you go. Listen, Doll, I gotta go—have to pack for my trip to Paaaris.” Jackie let out a squeal of pure delight. “Frank and I leave tomorrow at five in the morning. Tiffany will take over for me while I’m away, so if you need anything, she’ll take good care of you. Though, since you’ll be on vacation, I suspect Tiffany won’t hear from you, right?”“Right.” And Tiffany wouldn’t, even though Eleanor had no plans for a vacation. She had to work through this bloody writer’s block if it killed her. She’d come too far in her career to allow a silly thing like writer’s block to destroy her dreams.“Good. I’ll talk to you in a couple of weeks.”“Have fun in Paris. Send me a postcard.”Jackie laughed. “Who wouldn’t have fun in Paris? Toodles, Doll.”“Au revoir.” Eleanor ended the call then drained the rest of the wine in her glass. She gazed around the modern, airy elegance of her condo living room in hopes the beauty would help calm her nerves. She loved the sandy, neutral wall color, the dark flooring, and the sunlight streaming through the large windows. Trailing her fingers over the white leather sectional and oak side table, she made her way to the sliding glass doors and gazed out at the city. With the condo situated on the fourth floor, she had a decent view of the shops below, and the pedestrians as they enjoyed the rare sun-filled February day. In the distance, the tall structures of downtown Squamish filled the skyline, and towering above all were majestic mountains, capped by the pale blue sky.She loved this city. She’d moved here after her divorce, picking Squamish not only for its beauty, but because it was far enough away from Abbotsford where her ex lived and worked.The thought of moving back to England had rattled around her brain for two seconds before she’d tossed it when Thomas ended their marriage. There was nothing left for her there. Hadn’t been since she met and married Thomas at the ripe old age of sixteen. Against her parents’ warnings that she was making a huge mistake, she’d waved goodbye to family, friends, and all that was familiar to her to follow him to Canada. Obviously her Mum and Dad had seen through Thomas’ facade to his cold, money-driven, selfish core. Not like they were any better. Guess like-minded people saw similar traits in others.But like the love struck, immature girl she had been, Eleanor had risked all to be with the man she had loved.And where did that love get her? Thirty-one and divorced, staring down the rest of her life alone and childless, parents who’d disowned her, and ten wasted years as she’d worked her guts out at a go-nowhere office supply store—shelving her dreams of becoming a writer—so her husband could pursue his dreams of becoming a doctor. To add more salt to the gaping hole where her childish fantasies and pride once resided, Thomas had booted her to the curb a month after her father’s funeral. Oh, he would never admit the reason, but she knew damn well why he finally had the balls to end their relationship. Her parents had written her out of their will, due to the fact she had defied them. Her not so loving—cheap—husband finally had the proof his wife would not inherit a substantial amount of money, no matter how many times she had warned him of that fact.Funny part of the whole mess was neither the divorce nor her parents’ final display of we-don’t-recognize-you-as-our-daughter had hurt all that much. She’d filed both away in the well-life-can-sure-be-a-bitch drawer. Her marriage had been a joke for years, and the relationship with her parents had been strained since she could remember.A hummingbird hovered in front of the patio door. Eleanor smiled and pressed a finger against the cool glass. The little bird drew closer. The sun illuminated the shiny green feathers covering the tiny creature’s head. Black eyes regarded her before the bird flew to the hummingbird feeder filled with red sugar water.Birds had it made. If life sucked, they could take off to new destinations whenever the mood struck them, unlike humans.She sighed then faced the room. Her home. The home she bought with her own money—money she’d made through her writing. A sense of pride filled her chest as she stared at the three movie-sized posters of the covers to her latest novels hanging above the gas fireplace: Prophecy of Love. Child of the Prophecy. Power of the Prophecy.Though she had written and published ten books to date, her latest vampire series finally made her a household name in the romance book world.“Take that, Thomas, you...Doubting Thomas,” she said with a laugh. “You said I couldn’t do it. Well look at me now.”Her sense of wellbeing evaporated. Fear and anxiety took center stage again. Two words flashed through her mind: Writer’s Block.“Crap.” If you don’t get yourself together and leap over this hurdle, you’ll lose everything.“I won’t lose anything,” she muttered. “I’ll conquer the block.”Right.Eleanor walked into her kitchen and snagged the bottle of wine off the marble counter, then marched back into the living room. Normally not much of a drinker, she filled her glass to the brim. Today the effects of alcohol were needed to keep the screaming fears and doubts at bay.Taking a large sip, she savored the bitter yet sweet liquid before swallowing. Raising her glass, she said, “Forget about Calgon. Wine, take me away.” Her cell phone jingled.“Grrr.” She pulled the phone from her sweater pocket and checked the number. Annoyance pounded through her. Her nerves were already strung tight, and this conversation would surely send her over the edge. “What does he want now?”Don’t answer. Yeah, but if she didn’t, he’d just keep calling, over and over, leaving increasingly annoying messages.She downed the wine before perching the glass on the coffee table, then clicked talk. “What?”“Well hello to you too, sweetheart,” Thomas said on the other end. His voice was tight, and she knew full well he was pissed at her, but was struggling to hide his anger.Eleanor closed her eyes, trying to control her temper. She knew what he wanted, but he could go fly a kite and hopefully get electrocuted. “What do you want, Thomas? I’m busy writing.” You’re such a liar. “And I don’t have time to play games with you today—or any day.”“Isn’t that nice. You don’t have five minutes for your husband?” His control slipped and the true Thomas came through. His tone was hard and edged with rage, ready to explode.And she was buzzed enough and tired enough of all his crap to bother trying to placate him. “I believe you have your wives mixed up. I’m Eleanor, your ex-wife. You’re looking for Tanya, your currentwife.” She smiled at his hissed curse, picturing his face reddening, and the veins in his neck bulging.“I told you, we split up last month. I’ve already started the divorce proceedings.”She rolled her eyes and stared at the ceiling. Heaving a deep sigh, she added a smug smile to her voice. “Good for Tanya. So, what do you want?”“What do you mean, what do I want?” The edge in his voice became sharper. “Are you deaf or dense? I’ve been telling you for the past month what I want.” He cleared his throat. “I’d like for you and I to patch things up. I miss you, Ellie.” Now his voice was smoother than a silk sheet, bordering on whiny.Eleanor covered her mouth, holding back her laugh of derision. No point sending the old boy into a rage induced cardiac arrest. His insult bounced off her, as did his sickening sweetness. She had been down this road with him too many times for it to bother her. And as for his declaration of missing her, she had two words for him: Fuck off. But instead, she replied, “I told you last night, the night before, and every day this past month that we will never get back together—I never want to get back together with you. If you need it in writing to get it through your thick skull, then I’ll be glad to type something up and mail it to you.”A sharp draw of breath filled her ear. “You fucking bitch!”If she had a nickel for every time, during and after their marriage, that he’d called her a bitch, she’d be a billionaire. But what he failed to understand was he didn’t have any power over her anymore. “Thomas, I’m hanging—”“Who the fuck do you think you’re talk—”“Bye,” she said over his ranting.“Don’t you dare hang up on me.”“You forget, I don’t have to listen to your shit anymore. Toodles, doll,” she said, mimicking her agent. She pulled the phone from her ear, and just as she was about to click end, his shouted demand made her pause. With the phone back against her ear, she asked, “What did you just say?”“You owe me money.” His words were spoken in a calm tone, but she wasn’t fooled. The more composed he became, the more enraged he was.Shocked, she couldn’t speak for a second.“You still there,” he asked.Finally, she found her voice. “In what universe do you think I owe you money?”“You owe me for the two years I supported your lazy ass after you quit working to write. You weren’t making any money. I paid for everything. I figure twenty thousand for both years should do it—and don’t say you can’t afford it. I know better.”Rage slowly wound through her body. Her muscles tightened, and tremors lit off in her legs. “You’re crazier than even I imagined. What about the years I supported you while you went to med school? The way I figure it, you owe me money.”“I paid you out after our divorce, so don’t think of trying to get another dime from me!” The volume of his voice rose, and his breathing became labored.Was he serious? Even for Thomas this conversation was out there, surfing the Outer Limits. Though as strange as it was, it made sense why he’d been trying to get back together with her since he split from his wife. He didn’t miss or love her. No, he must have found out how much money Eleanor was making from her writing. And the money-driven bastard wanted in on it. Well, not in this lifetime.“Ten thousand dollars, Thomas. That’s all you gave me after ten years of shit and abuse. And I didn’t contest it—and my lawyer begged me too, believe me. I just wanted out. So let me make this clear so even you’ll understand. You. Will. Not. Get. A. Cent. From. Me. Ever.”He must have heard the conviction in her voice because his attitude changed. He sighed. “What happened to you, Ellie? You used to be so sweet and giving. You’ve turned cold.”Because of you, Jackass. “I’ve changed, Thomas. I’m not the naive woman you married.”“Yeah, I noticed.” Gone was his playacting. The true Thomas was back in action. “I saw your picture in the back of your last book. I must say, you looked like a whore.”Of all the crap that had fallen from his mouth, this remark sent her anger soaring. “A whore?” She barked out a cold laugh. “Coming from you, that’s a compliment.”“Yes, a whore. You were a whore when I met you, but I thought you’d changed. Obviously not.”His smug, condescending tone and words almost drove her over the cliff. Fury built inside, swirling around, looking for a way out. The strong emotion crawled up her throat and burst through her lips. “Fuck you, you controlling bastard.”“And now you’re talking like a slut. You never used to swear before.” “Oh, I swore before, just did it behind your back. If you could have heard all the names I called you.” She laughed again. “Whatever. The days of me listening to you are over—thank God.”“I always knew you were a worthless slut. Even your parents knew that, and cut you from their lives and will.”If he stood in front of her, she’d happily strangle him. Suddenly, her inner self spoke up. What are you doing? Why are you allowing him to get to you? Hang up the damn phone!She gripped the phone tight, then snarled, “I’m done talking to you. Oh, and just so you know, I’m shutting off my cell and turning the ringer off on my landline.”“This isn’t over, Eleanor. You owe me—”“I owe you nothing.” With that, she clicked end, powered down her phone, then tossed it onto the white matching chair next to the couch. The phone bounced once then landed on the floor.Eleanor stormed across the length of her living room, down the short hallway, past her bathroom decorated in light greens and off white, turned around, and marched back, as she tried to get herself under control. Standing in the middle of the living room, she sighed. “Just calm down. Stop letting him get to you. He’s mental—you know that. And more importantly, he isn’t your problem anymore. You have bigger problems, like writing your next novel.”She stared up at the book posters. “Shit.”But damnit. His callous remark about her looking like a whore in her new author photo had hurt. No, it pissed her off. She was proud of that picture—proud of her new look.Her gaze cut to the bookshelves flanking the fireplace. Without thinking, she moved to the tall, mahogany shelves and scanned the book spines until she found her last novel. She pulled it from its resting place and flipped to the inside back cover.A black and white picture of her standing under a large oak tree smiled back at her. She wore a knee-length, form-fitting black skirt that hugged her slim, but rounded hips. Sexy high-heeled pumps made her legs look long and shapely, even though she stood only five foot three. The classy blue blouse she’d chosen brought out the blue in her eyes, though the picture was devoid of color. Her long, auburn hair, with blonde highlights, was cut in a seductive style. Her makeup was tasteful, enhancing eyes, lips and cheekbones.“I don’t look like a hussy, you stupid pinhead.” She glared at her cell phone lying on the floor, thinking of Thomas. “You’re pissed off because you can’t control me anymore.”From the deep recesses of her mind, a thought bubbled to the forefront. Then shame skittered up her spine before settling like a led ball in her belly. If Thomas hadn’t ended their marriage, she’d probably still be with him. He’d had her completely reliant on him. From the start, he’d isolated her from family and friends while slowly destroying her self-esteem. And she’d allowed it—all of his demands and psychological abuse—making excuses for his bizarre behavior because she’d been too frightened to leave him. She’d chosen to put up with his angry, insane tantrums rather than face a life alone. Forget it. Thoughts like this will get you nowhere. The point is, you are free of him, and doing well on your own. And if you want to continue doing well, you better figure out your next book.She shoved Thomas from her mind, and then made her way to the computer. Once seated at the desk, Eleanor opened the document titled: Working Title: Unknown.The blank screen mocked her. The blinking cursor seemed to say, loser, loser, loser.With her elbows on the sleek black desktop, she closed her eyes and tried to get into the zone; tried to think of possible characters, plot, conflict, but nothing formed. It truly felt like a wall had been erected in her head.Anxiety rooted and spread its doubt-filled fingers throughout her head. Her heart sped up, her legs felt rubbery.Jumping up, she paced in front of the patio doors. “What’s the matter with me? Why can’t I write?” She tunneled her fingers through her hair and pulled.Thomas. He was the reason. All his damn phone calls. All his bullshit about loving and missing her was screwing with her mind and motivation.Or maybe this wall was created by her disheartened view of relationships and men.It wasn’t like she didn’t believe in love, because she did. Believing in true love was a necessity when writing romance novels. But she didn’t trust her instincts anymore when it came to matters of the heart. With Thomas, she’d fallen completely under the spell of his blond good looks, brooding blue eyes, toned body, and take-charge, controlling attitude. She’d been a terrible judge of character and was freaked she’d repeat the same mistakes by falling for the wrong type of man again—another alpha male.Alpha men were fine as fictional characters in romance novels, but not in real life. The next time she fell in love, it would be with a beta male.
Chapter 2Chapter 2
February, 06th 4:10pmSurrey, British Columbia, Canada
“Mel, wake up. You’re not going to believe this.”Breeana’s urgent voice penetrated Mel’s sleep-filled mind. He grunted, but didn’t open his eyes. Sleep still held him in its tight grasp.“Wake up.” She whipped the covers off his face and gave his shoulder a hard shake.He peeled open his eyelids and squinted against the light coming from the table lamp next to the bed. His wife’s lovely face hovered above him; her long brunette hair hung down, tickling his cheek.Panic filled her hazel eyes.Christ, the baby!Adrenaline shot through his veins. He jerked up and seized her upper arms. “Are you okay? Is it the baby?”“No—and I’m fine. But look at this.” She thrust a book an inch from his face.He stared at Breeana as his fear abated. If anything happened to her or the baby, he’d...Stop it. She’s fine.Once his heart ceased its wild, erratic dance, his attention turned to the book so close to his face that his eyes couldn’t bring it into focus. He took it from her hand and studied the glossy red cover. Written across the top in large black lettering it read: Prophecy of Love. Below, a black haired man kissed the throat of a beautiful brunette.Confused, he cocked a brow at Breeana in a silent question. “Okay. Nice...book.”She heaved a sigh, grabbed the book and flipped it open. She shoved it back toward him.The moment he read the page header, his heart jackknifed and plummeted to his feet. Slowly, he clasped the paperback and read the familiar fourteen short sentences. His gaze dropped to the picture of a crooked dagger then snapped back to his wife. He read her shock and puzzlement easily. “What the hell? This is the Vampire Prophecy, word for bloody word—and the symbol.”She nodded. “I know.”“Where did you get it?” He flipped it closed and stared at the author’s name. Eleanor Donavon.Breeana sat on the bed and placed her hands over her very pregnant belly. “From Barcley’s bookstore in the mall. Katherine and I were shopping, and I stopped in to browse the romance section. I was excited to see new books by Eleanor—she’s one of my favorite authors, plus she’s local. Anyway, you could imagine my shock when I checked inside and saw the Vampire Prophecy. I...I can’t believe it.” Fear filled her eyes. “How could this have happened? How does she know about the Prophecy? Could she somehow know about vampires?”Mel studied the author’s photo on the back inside cover. She was a pretty, petite woman, with an engaging smile. “I have no clue.”He tossed off the brown comforter and placed his feet on the carpeted floor. After handing the book back to his wife, he scraped his hair back from his face. This was trouble—big trouble. Was the author a vampire? Somehow, he doubted it, but how the fuck did she know about the Prophecy?Shit.Mel faced Breeana. She continued smoothing a hand over her protruding stomach. Even with the frown scrunching her forehead, she never looked more beautiful. Her shiny brunette hair cascaded around her shoulders in loose curls, and her front teeth worrying her full bottom lip.Forgetting the book for a moment, he cupped the nape of Breeana’s neck and pulled her lips to his. “I didn’t kiss you hello.”Her hazel eyes darkened to green, and her smile grew seductive. “No you didn’t. But under the circumstances, I’ll let it slide—this time.”As her fingers tangled in his hair, Mel groaned, then claimed her lips with a gentle yet urgent need.  Their tongues lazily danced, fueling the fire in them both.Although Mel sensed her desire, he also sensed she was uncomfortable and tired. What she needed was rest.He reined in his lust, broke off the kiss, then pressed his forehead against hers. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”Her eyes closed, and when she opened them, he saw how weary she truly was. “Besides my back aching, and our son or daughter rearranging my organs, I’m fine. Just a little tired, but that’s nothing new.” She sighed and sat back, rubbing her belly again. “Katherine said the last few weeks would be the worst.” She chuckled. “And she was correct.”Mel cupped the hard roundness of her abdomen. He smoothed his hands up and around in hopes to help bring her some comfort. “Three more weeks, then this little guy or girl will be born.”“I know.” Her smile lit up the room. “And I can hardly wait to meet him or her—and have my body back. I want to be able to go ten minutes without having to pee.”Mel laughed. He hugged her to his chest and dropped a kiss on top of her head. “Is there anything I can do to help?”“You’re doing it.”“Doesn’t seem like much. Like I’m getting off easy.”She shifted and pulled out of his embrace. “You are getting off easy, but just wait until our baby is born. That’s when the hard work will start for us both.”Mel’s heart soared. God, he loved her. She was his life, and now so was their child. “I’m looking forward to it—all of it. Dirty diapers, running on no sleep. Teething, crying...” He planted a quick kiss on her lips. “I love you, Breeana.”“I love you too.” She picked up the book and turned it over before holding it up. “So, what should we do?”“Take it to Roarik. Then go from there.”Mel walked to the closet in their bedroom. He dressed quickly in jeans and a T-shirt. He glanced over at his wife sitting on the bed. “Wanna come with me?”“Do you think I should?”“Yeah. You can fill Roarik in.” Still in bare feet, he headed to the door.She stood. Her long red sweater pulled tight over her belly. “I think it would be a good idea if I read the book—see what it’s about. See what else she wrote about.”“I agree, but first we show Roarik.”As they walked into the living room, she placed a hand on his arm. “Mel, I forgot to mention. I noticed there were two more books to this series. I didn’t grab them because I was so shocked once I read the Prophecy. Should I buy the others?”Mel guided her out of their suite and down the concrete tunnel with a hand on her lower back. “Later. First, we deal with this storm.”Christ. And this was going to be a storm. He felt it in his bones.

Chapter 3

Chapter 3
February, 06th 5:54pmSurrey, British Columbia
Buzzz. Buzzz. Buzzz.The annoying buzzing leaked into Sin’s semi-conscious brain. He was awake enough to know the sound came from his cell phone vibrating across the night stand, but asleep enough not to give a shit.He rolled over, tugged the comforter over his head, and settled in for another couple hours of sleep. Let the asshole leave a voice mail.Besides, his head was splitting, and his guts heaved. Christ, didn’t the caller know he had one motherfucking bitch of a hangover?Buzzz. Buzzz. Buzzz.“Come on. Can’t a vampire get any sleep around this joint?” He lifted his head slightly; the movement sent hammers banging in his brain. Slowly, he peeked his head out from under the covers and squinted at the glowing green numbers on his clock-radio. Six o’clock.He had at least four hours left until he had to get up and head out for the nightly demon hunt—and he needed every minute of sleep he could get in hopes of dulling his hangover.Buzzz. Buzzz.The phone started up again. It danced against the wall, trapped by the radio.“This better be worth waking me up.” He snatched up the phone and checked caller ID.The numbers blurred together, making it hard to see who was disturbing his beauty rest. He tried blinking, but his eyes were drier than dirt from the desert. Finally his eyes worked enough to see the caller was Soren, the second in command at this base of warriors.The one person, besides Roarik, he couldn’t ignore if he wanted to avoid another ball-busting lecture, which he did.Second in command or not, Sin answered with attitude. “This better be good.”“Get your sorry ass outta bed and meet me in Roarik’s office. Now, Sin. Not later.”Fucking hell. “What’s the problem? Can’t be anything I’ve done. I’ve been a good little soldier lately.”“Roarik has a mission for you.”Sin laughed, but stopped when it caused his head to pound. “A mission? What the fuck are we now? The Hardy Boys?”Soren chuckled. “Are you out of bed yet?”“I’m workin’ on it.” Sin shifted onto his back. The room titled as dizziness screwed with his equilibrium. He groaned then cleared the crap from his throat. “Do I have time for a shower?”“No. Roarik isn’t in the best of moods.”“What’s new?” He lifted an arm, sniffed, then cringed. “Dude, I’m pretty ripe. I think it’d be better for everyone if I take five and shower.”  “Fine, but make it quick.”Sin contemplated getting to his feet, but wasn’t looking forward to the queasiness that would follow. “Does this mission require me to suit up in my ninja gear?”Another laugh came from Soren, which was a good sign. If the guy could laugh, then chances were good whatever had Roarik’s panties twisted up his ass had nothing to do with Sin.“I’ll tell Roarik you’re on your way.” Soren ended the call.Sin dropped the cell phone on the bed. Scrubbing both hands over his face, he braced himself against the inevitable urge to spew his guts the second he sat up.“One. Two. Three.” In one motion, he sat up. The room swayed. The walls of his bedroom seemed to rotate around him, making his eyes ache. “Fucking tequila. Get’s me every time.” But would he drink it again? Of course. Booze was the only way to shut up the past.He kicked the comforter to the floor. With one hand on his head and the other pressed against his churning gut, he stood. This time the room tilted and rolled. He lost his footing and his ass hit the bed again. “Let’s try this one more time, shall we.” Once more he stood, and this time the room stayed relatively stable, which helped him stay upright, but the sour contents in his stomach boiled like a cauldron of poison. His mouth filled with saliva, a precursor to barfing.“Come on, man. Just keep it down.”The cool air in his room felt wonderful on his over-heated skin and helped tame his urge to puke. When he felt he could move without falling, he stumbled across the beige carpet toward the bathroom. Thumbing the light switch to on, he caught his reflection in the mirror above the sink.Christ, he looked like he’d gone twenty rounds with a prize fighter. Guess in a sense he had. The demons he’d fought and killed last night had been seasoned fighters, not new recruits. But it wasn’t the demons and last night’s battles that ravaged his complexion. That he blamed solely on heavy drinking.He stepped up to the mirror and rested his hands on the edge of the sink, assessing his face. Dark smudges stood out like bruises under his bloodshot eyes. His black hair was a knotted mess with long strands sticking to his cheeks. The wild mop reached below his shoulders. He should just cut the shit off.  It was a massive pain in the ass, but the ladies seemed to like it. Personally, he’d be happy taking clippers to it. Be a lot easier to manage. He cracked a smile. Easier to manage. Listen to it. Christ, I sound like a pussy.After kicking a pile of dirty clothes to the side, he stepped into the shower. Five minutes later, and feeling a little better, Sin dressed in a pair of jeans, long sleeved shirt, and his jean jacket, then left his suite. The concrete tunnel was deserted. Not even the sounds of muffled voices behind the closed doors of the other suites were heard.Huh. Seemed odd for this time of night. Kal and Katherine’s son, Ike, was usually getting ready for school about now. And the kid was anything but quiet.He managed the stairs leading to the main house above on shaky legs. As he stepped into the cavernous foyer, he decided the long trek up to the third floor was more than he could handle at the moment. Best to teleport. Faster and easier.With his mind concentrating on the spot in front of the door to Roarik’s third floor office, he dematerialized, and then took form at his intended target.Roarik’s deep voice blasted through the wooden door. “Where the hell is he, Soren? This needs to be dealt with, and fast.”“He’ll be here. Just mellow out,” Soren said with an equally annoyed tone.Well, this was going to be fun. Just what he needed—not. Sin thrust open the door and sauntered into the room. “Hello, ladies.”Soren’s head whipped toward him. He shoved a hand through his short blond hair while his green eyes flashed. “About time.”Mel and his human wife, Breeana, sat in twin chintz chairs close to the enormous fireplace, where a cheery fire added light and warmth to the room. Sin nodded in their direction.At the far end of the room, situated under a large window looking out over the backyard, Roarik rose from behind his large oak desk. His brown eyes snapped with annoyance. Deep furrows between his dark blond brows showed his anger. “What took you so long? When I give an order, I expect it to be followed.”Sin shrugged then slumped onto the nearest chair. He cocked an elbow along the backrest and crossed his feet at the ankles. “Had to shower. Couldn’t be helped. So, instead of reading me the riot act, why not tell me what the hell is going on?”Roarik’s face turned stormy. He ground his teeth and sneered, but thankfully he didn’t go off on one of his famous tangents.Thank God for small mercies.Soren shoved Sin’s shoulder as be passed by. “Watch it,” he mumbled under his breath.Sin glanced up and smiled. “Watch what? Are we here to watch a movie? Will there be popcorn?”From over by the fireplace, Breeana laughed, but it was short lived. “Sorry,” she murmured.Facing her, Sin winked.She smiled back, red-faced. Her amused eyes drifted to her husband, then back to Roarik. Mel’s silver gaze focused on Sin, glaring a warning, but his lips twitched into a ghost of a smile.“Enough,” Roarik barked. “This is serious shit, Sin, and I advise you to treat it as such.”Sin tried to school his features. Wouldn’t be wise to piss Roarik off anymore than he was already. But sometimes Sin’s mouth got him in trouble. Sometimes? Try all the time. “Then fill me in, boss.”Roarik picked up a book and tossed it to Sin.He caught the paperback. The red cover sported a man with his lips buried against the white throat of a woman. The title read: Prophecy of Love. Confused, he directed his stare at Roarik. “I don’t get it. Am I supposed to read this, ‘cause if so, forget it. Not my type of literature. My taste is more...Playboy.”“Turn to page four.” Roarik folded his arms over his broad chest.Glancing at Soren, Sin raised a brow.“Just read it,” Soren said.He flipped the book open to page four, then froze. Blood pounded in his ears as he read the fourteen lines. At the bottom of the page was a picture of a crooked dagger—the prophecy’s symbol. The mark of the chosen.All business, Sin sat straighter in his seat. “What the hell is this?”Breeana cleared her throat. “A romance novel.”Sin turned in his seat. “A what, what?”“A vampire romance novel to be exact, written by a local author,” she added.Closing the book, Sin glanced at the author’s name on the cover: Eleanor Donavon. “How’d she get her hands on the prophecy?”Roarik sat on his black swivel chair. “That’s what we need to find out.”Suspicion wormed through Sin’s bewilderment. “As in we, you mean me. Am I correct?”“Give the boy a cigar,” Soren said with a short laugh. “Now you’re getting it.”Sin narrowed his gaze on Roarik. “Just how do you want me to extract this info? If you want me to interrogate this chick, then forget it. Last I checked that wasn’t in my job description.”Roarik’s face looked carved from granite. “Once she’s in our custody, I’ll question her.”In our custody? Sin jumped to his feet. He grabbed the back of the chair to hold himself steady. Now they were getting to the heart of this mission, and he didn’t like where his mind was headed. He held up his hands. “Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. You want me to kidnap her? Are you serious?”Mel cleared his throat. “It’s less than ideal, but what other choice do we have? If she’s a vampire openly writing about the prophecy—”“Or if she’s a human who has been told about vampires and the prophecy, she has to be stopped,” Roarik stated in a cold voice. “This is exactly what I’ve warned you guys about. You seem to think it’s okay to inform the human women you’re screwing about vampires and the war, placing blind faith in them that they’ll keep their damn traps shut. But as you can see, humans can’t be trusted.”Sin turned in time to see Breeana struggle to stand. She placed one hand on her big belly, and the other on the back of the chair. She groaned, plunked back down, then tried again. Mel clasped one of her hands, then slipped his arm around her expanded waist, and hoisted her up.Standing, she planted both hands on her hips and glowered at Roarik. “Hold on a second here. You don’t know that she’s a human. So please, can the hate-all-humans-crap.”Soren swore. “Look, we’re getting off course here. Whether she’s human or vampire will be determined later.”Sin snorted. “Yeah, after I kidnap her. Why not just pay her a visit and see what’s what?”Roarik folded his hands on top of the desk, his face a mask of boredom. But Sin detected rage swimming just under the surface. “The Sacred Order has to be brought up to speed. And I anticipate what their instructions will be. I want to be one step ahead of them on this.”“Fucking Order.” Sin shook his head. “Why not get those lazy sons-of-bitches to do the dirty work for a change? We have enough on our plates keeping the demons at bay.”“Couldn’t agree more, but as you know, they wouldn’t dare get their hands dirty,” Roarik said. His brown eyes turned black as his lips pulled down at the corners, clearly showing his distaste over the vampire’s government. It was common knowledge their squad leader had zero respect for the robe-wearing assholes who governed their race.“This will need to be handled with the utmost secrecy, and as painlessly as possible,” Mel said, steering the conversation back to the shit-storm at hand.Sin stared Mel down. “Then get someone else to do it.”“You will do it—and that’s a direct order, Sin,” Roarik replied, his tone cold and quiet.Sin spun around and frowned at his captain.  “And I said, get someone else.”A muscle ticked along Roarik’s jaw. He slowly stood. Standing at a whopping six foot seven, he was the tallest warrior at the base. His impressive size coupled with his hard muscular frame screamed of the immense power housed inside—and Sin would do well to remember that.“You’re the one I chose for this mission. Soren has other responsibilities to attend to, as do Mel and Kal. Black’s dealing with family issues, and no way in hell would I send Ace. So that leaves you.” Roarik walked around his desk and leaned a hip against one corner, then crossed his arms. “Besides, this will go a long way in clearing the black mark on your record, or have you forgotten about that fiasco?”Heat flushed Sin’s cheeks. Oh, he hadn’t forgotten, but he was sick of being reminded of it. He’d made a mistake, one that would never happen again. Six years ago, he’d gotten so damn plastered at the biker bar he’d loved to frequent that he’d dematerialized out in the parking lot. Right in front of human onlookers. Shit, his little stunt not only landed his ass in vampire jail for seven months, but the people who witnessed his vanishing act had yapped to the local news. Thank God Black had been with him and had smoothed things over as much as he could. He’d planted thoughts in a few heads that Sin’s disappearing act was due to a bad patch of drugs on the street. In other words, the humans were hallucinating. Lucky, that excuse seemed to have worked, although many from that night swore they weren’t using.The Sacred Order, on the other hand, weren’t as easy to mollify. After a two week hearing, his sentence was jail time, which was sufficient punishment as far as he was concerned.But yeah, no denying it. He’d pulled a boneheaded move for sure.Sin rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. Looked like he was now in the kidnapping business. “Fine. When do you want this done?”“Tonight.” Roarik folded a slip of paper and handed it to Sin. “That’s her address. Study her picture in the back of the book to make sure you grab the right woman.”Sin opened the book to the back inside cover. A petite yet very curvy woman smiled back at him. As his eyes traveled over the black and white photo, his cock hardened. Damn, but she was a pretty little thing. Her eyes seemed to sparkle with life, and her smile was wide and genuine. Her hair appeared soft. The strands flowed around her oval face, past her shoulders, in a sensual cloud.She looked sweet, innocent, and sexy as hell. Not his normal type. The women he usually went for were lacking the sweet and innocent parts. He liked his women experienced in the arts of seduction with no emotional expectations. This little miss wasn’t the love ‘em and leave ‘em type. She was the marrying kind, which he avoided. But for her, he’d make an exception. He’d love to take her for a test ride. He scanned her short bio. Perfect. No mention of a husband, roommate, or pets. Suddenly, this mission didn’t seem so bad. In fact, he looked forward to it.



Prophecy's Language coming Spring 2015

Prophecy's Child, book #2 in the Prophecy series is on sale for the ultra low price of .99

Yep, you heard right. I typed .99

.99
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Blurb:

His secret will shatter her world.

Katherine Colby’s life splintered ten years ago when her lover suddenly vanished, leaving her with more than a broken heart. But when Kal unexpectedly makes an appearance, her safe, dependable existence is shattered once more. Drawn into Kal’s deadly world of vampires and demons, she must now put aside her hurt and anger and learn to trust him. Can she forgive past deceptions and find the courage to love again? Or will she turn away the one man who owns her heart and soul?
Her secret will change his life.
Powerful, and lethal, Kal is a vampire warrior, sworn to protect humans from demons. Loving Katherine too much to pull her into his dangerous world, Kal deserted her, believing his decision was best for them both. But not even time could assuage his yearning for the woman who has captured his heart. As fate tosses them together once again, Kal must fight to win Katherine’s trust and forgiveness before evil separates them forever. But is he ready to become the man she needs him to be? Or will he lose the one woman he can’t live without?




Amazon link: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00E0R4230

If you love paranormal romances with hot, sexy, and totally alpha vampire warriors, then you will enjoy this book.

Prophecy's Language, book #4 in the Prophecy series will be available July 2015