SNAP: Happily Ever After? by Michele Drier

Loving Jean-Louis for eternity doesn't mean that Maxie Gwenoch will let him turn her. Jean-Louis is a vampire, is gorgeous, is the second-in-command of the Kandesky Family of Hungarian vampires, and is her boss at SNAP, the multinational, multimedia celeb gossip empire where she is the VP for International Planning. She moves to Kiev to build a home with Jean-Louis and finds her future under a cloud from Leonid, a rival from the Huszar family, now living in a bolthole in the ruins of Chernobyl. Will Maxie find safety by giving up her days and joining Jean-Louis in the vampire nights?

Download SNAP: Happily Ever After? from Amazon and Barnes and Noble.

Excerpt

Had I forgotten Leonid? Oh no, I’d never forget him.

He’d captured me, held me hostage for Jean-Louis, beat and raped me, let his toady Jules rape me. Much of the immediate horror of that time was pushed so far back in my mind that it took an effort of will to bring it out, but the fact that it happened never left me.

And I hadn’t forgotten that Leonid got away after the murder verdict and execution of Matthias, the head of the Huszar family.

“You said he couldn’t be found. You said there were only some tales of people and animals going missing in Romania and Belarus.”

His glimmer dimmed then flared back again, a sure sign he was going to try to convince me of something. “It’s true, we believed he was disappearing back in to the countryside. He had no contacts, no money and only a few followers. We didn’t think he’d try and head for Ukraine, but he did. He still had a small nucleus of followers here in Kiev.”

There was no oxygen in the room. I couldn’t breathe. My heart pounded. I knew Jean-Louis saw that. He may not have hunted and killed humans for food for more than 500 years, but his instincts were still there. I tried to keep myself calm around the Kandeskys, hoping they’d forget I was a regular. Fat chance.

On occasions like this, with blind panic and fear running along my nerves and affecting my circulatory system, the vampire’s internal hunting responses started to kick in.

He looked at me. “This is not something I wanted to tell you and I certainly didn’t want to tell you until we had a chance to decipher the information coming in. I had a very different ‘Welcome to Kiev’ planned.”

OK, I knew he’d explain things. But, wow, I didn’t even think that Leonid would be part of the explanation. He watched my eyes fill with remembered terror and reached over to hold me, but I pushed him away.

“And when were you planning to tell me this?”

He sighed. “Nik and I planned an evening with you. We’d tell you about Leonid then go over all that we knew and all that we’re planning to neutralize him. I, we, never want him coming within miles of you ever again.”

I flashed back to my first glimpse of him, standing on the steps of Nik’s mansion so coldly angry that the air around him looked crystalline. “I hope your anger wasn’t part of the plan.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “You ninny! Even teasing me, you do entertain. No, of course not. Now you’ll have to wait. Nik’s already gone up to his room.”

Rooms! Ah ha, an opening. “Speaking of rooms...”

He looked at me, gazed around the room and looked back. “What’s the matter, you don’t like the accommodations?”

I threw my reader at him and followed it up with a pillow. He was fast, batting the pillow back hard enough to knock a gasp out of me. I found a breath. “No, I wasn’t expecting to be put up in an economy hotel. And where’s the help?”

“We were going to hash all of this over with you until you forced a change of plans. You’re going to have to wait for this, too. I will say that we had other ideas about accommodations, but we’re having to use a fall-back position. And until yesterday, we didn’t have one.”

He was up, pacing, a movement I knew well. His mind worked more creatively and clearly when he was on the move. Then his pacing stopped as he threw himself down on the bed next to me, turned my face to his and kissed me, so hard, so long and so deep I melted from the heat that rose to engulf me.

“My love, my love.” He was murmuring into my hair. “I’m desolate without you. If you’re not around when I expect you to be, I panic. I know I react badly, in what looks like anger, but it’s fear...fear of losing you.”

His hands were stroking my hair and moving down my back, then he started pulling my shirt up.

“What do you have on? Where’s all your lingerie? Didn’t you pack it?”

I all but giggled. There were times when I even slept in one of his old shirts, so that I had his scent with me, but tonight I’d been too upset to want anything of him around. And sexy lingerie to sleep alone! No way.

“No thanks to you, but yes, Elise and I packed some things. Of course I don’t have anyone here to help me...”

I stopped. He was helping me. Sort of. He managed to pull the tee over my head, which trapped my arms, and began kissing and slowly licking my breasts, working his way down my body. The bed shifted and I heard sounds of clothing coming off, the soft snick of buttons and the hiss of a zipper. As tangled as I was in the tee, I hadn’t managed to get an arm free before I felt the length of his naked body against mine.

Now I truly melted and lived for the sensations he brought to me.

As I came back to consciousness, I was aware of movement in the room. I opened my eyes to the faintest glimmer of dawn and saw him silhouetted against the window as he pulled the heavy drapes shut.

He turned to me. “It’s six, true dawn is still half an hour away. I’m leaving now. We’re planning dinner and a long conversation tonight. No matter what, remember that I love you for eternity.”

I slept, my body remembering his touch and my mind drifting in an ocean of caring.

Without Elise to wake me, I jerked upright from a deep sleep, disoriented. Where was I? What time was it? The room was dark. I groped around on the bedside table, found a lamp and flipped it on. Memory came washing back. Last night, the wretched fight, Nik’s guest room, Jean-Louis...ah, Jean-Louis. I lay back on the pillows remembering the last look of him closing the curtains...oh, crap! What time was it? I was supposed to meet Jean-Louis and Nik for dinner and a discussion.

I rolled back over and checked. Four in the afternoon. Enough time to shower and get ready, even without help.

The tap on the door came as I was putting the final pins in a wrapped updo. He came in and I stood. I’d chosen a short, layered dress the colors of autumn leaves and strappy two-inch Via Spigas and felt confident enough to hear what the two had to say.

Jean-Louis looked me over and smiled. “I knew when we offered you the job that we’d chosen well. A woman who can overcome adversity, a few little bumps along the road, and still come up looking good enough to eat!”

This time I picked up a pot of blush to throw but decided I didn’t want to waste perfectly good Lazlo on him. He knew I hated those stupid vampire cracks, made them only to push my buttons. I gave him the evil eye as I sailed out the door.

Something was wrong. Something was missing. I looked around as Jean-Louis joined me and took my arm. Bam, that was it. No demons!

Even after the execution, I had demon guards outside the door to my suite in the Baron’s castle. Though the Huszars may have been scattered or co-opted, their centuries-old headquarters was only a few miles away and Stefan Kandesky and Jean-Louis didn’t believe in taking chances.

Here in Kiev it was pleasant being able to come and go without a trailing demon, as fond of them as I’d become.

Under the freedom of not having a guard, though, there was a twinge of nervousness.

Leonid was alive.

Find more from Michele on her website and Facebook. 

Blur by Kristen Middleton

Danger lurks in the dead of night...

Seventeen year old Nikki and her twin brother, Nathan, move to the small town of Shore Lake to start over after their mother is brutally attacked. When a missing teenager washes up on shore during their first night at the cabin and there are whispers of vampires in Shore Lake, Nikki begins to realize that there are things roaming in the darkness that are far more sinister than what they left behind in the city.

Blur is recommended for mature readers. You can download it at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iTunes, Sony and Kobo.

Excerpt

A strange noise jolted me awake, and I looked towards the window, only to find myself alone.

Must have been dreaming…

Sighing with relief, I checked the time and noticed I’d been in the tub for a half hour. The water was too chilly to enjoy anymore so I decided to get out. I toweled myself dry, put my robe on, and unplugged the bathtub. I then padded into the bedroom where I stopped dead in my tracks. Ethan was on my balcony, leaning against the railing watching me. He reminded me of a predator studying its kill before striking.

Time seemed to stand still as the realization of what Ethan really was sunk in. Obviously, he’d made it up to my balcony all by himself, and yesterday, we’d soared through the night faster than what was humanly possible. There could only be one explanation now, and it chilled me to the bone.

We stared at each other for what seemed like forever and then he pointed to the door.

Swallowing hard, I stepped over and unlocked it.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” he asked softly.

My heart was hammering in my chest and I bit the side of my lip, trying to decide what to do.

“Well?” he asked, smiling devilishly. “I promise I won’t hurt you, Nikki. In fact, I imagine you’ll enjoy my company immensely.”

I let out a ragged sigh and nodded.

He stared at my mouth. “I’d like to hear you say it.”

“Come in, Ethan.”




Find more from Kristen Middleton on her blog and Facebook.

The Shifter: Book One of The Healing Wars by Janice Hardy

A dangerous secret. A deadly skill.

Nya is an orphan struggling for survival in a city crippled by war. She is also a Taker—with her touch, she can heal injuries, pulling pain from another person into her own body. But unlike her sister, Tali, and the other Takers who become Healers, Nya's skill is flawed: she can't push that pain into pynvium, the enchanted metal used to store it. All she can do is shift it into another person, a dangerous skill that she must keep hidden. If discovered, she could be used as a human weapon.

But one day Nya pushes her luck too far and exposes her secret to a pain merchant eager to use her shifting ability for his own sinister purposes. She refuses—until Tali and other League Healers start disappearing mysteriously. Now Nya must decide: How far will she go to get Tali back alive?

You can find The Shifter on Amazon, Barnes and Noble or IndieBound.

Excerpt

Danello lived in one of the better boardinghouses on Market-Dock Canal, in a neighborhood I could only dream of affording. His family had three rooms to themselves—two bedrooms attached to a small kitchen and dining area. Though a woman’s touch still showed, it had been a long time since it showed strong. Two dying plants—possibly coriander—sat on a shelf near the window, holding back faded and singed curtains bunched on one side. A rack of worn copper pots hung above a small stove, its skinny pipe chimney snaking up the side wall. They did have a view, though it was only a grassy corner of a market square. Two people were huddled under a bush, a ratty blanket tucked around them. I looked away.

“Did you find her?” a boy called, running out of the room on the left. “Oh, I guess you did.” His mouth wiggled as if he was unsure whether to be happy I was there or scared that I had come.

“This is—” Danello turned to me and laughed sheepishly. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Nya.”

He nodded. “Nya, this is Jovan. The other two are with our da.”

Not knowing what else to do, I waved, and the smaller version of Danello waved back. Same rich brown eyes, same pale hair, same determined yet sad set to the chin.

“Da’s unconscious now,” Jovan said in the measured tone of someone trying very hard to sound grown-up. Saints, he was so young. Too young to carry pain that wasn’t his. “Do we need to wake him?”

My stomach twisted, but I shook my head. “Don’t wake him. I can do it while he’s asleep.”

We moved into the back bedroom, small but cozy. Paintings of flowers hung on the walls, some painted on wood, others on squares of cotton. By the bed, Jovan’s twin brother sat on a yellow stool, his unhappy face pale and tight. Their little sister sat on the floor at his feet. Her blond head rested on his

knee and her arms were wrapped around his shin. Neither looked up.

“That’s Bahari, and Halima there on the floor.”

I backed away. No bed was worth this. I wasn’t healing, I was deciding who suffered. Saints did that, not me. “I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can. So can they.” Danello squeezed my hand, drew me forward. “What do we do?”

“Change your mind, find a pain merchant who’s buying, drag him here by his hair if you have to, just please don’t make me do this.”

He took both my hands, held them tight. They were warm, and for one irrational moment I felt safe. “What do we do?” he asked.

What we had to, even if we didn’t like it. Hadn’t I always wanted to be a Healer? It might not be what Tali did, but I could help them. The shift was only for a few days, until the pain merchants were buying again. It wasn’t as if I were permanently hurting them. I gulped down air and reluctantly pulled my hands away.

“Nothing yet,” I whispered. “I have to see how badly he’s hurt first.”

His da’s forearm bent the wrong way, so that was broken for sure. The thigh was bloody and gouged, but the leg was straight. I glanced at Jovan and my stomach rolled. Just think about their father . I went to the opposite side of the bed and placed my hand on his forehead. Cold, wet strands of the same pale hair as his children’s stuck to my fingers.

Tali’s voice echoed in my head. She’d been teaching me what they taught her, claiming it was in case the League ever let me in one day, but I wasn’t so sure of that. I figured it was just her way of making it up to me ’cause she got accepted and I couldn’t.

I took a deep breath. Feel your way through the body, to the injury. My hand tingled as I felt my way through blood and bone. Broken arm, as expected. Three broken ribs. Torn muscle on the leg, but not broken. Cuts and bruises all over, but he’d heal that on his own.

“It’s not as bad as you thought.” I explained his injuries as best I could without scaring the little ones. Bahari already looked ready to bolt.

“I’ll take the arm and leg,” Danello said as if ordering dinner. “They can each take a rib. That won’t be too bad, will it?”

Spoken like someone who’d never had a broken rib.

“It’ll hurt to breathe deep. Bending and stretching will be hard.” Three sets of brown eyes went wide. I almost smiled, but figured my grin would scare them more than the pain. “No roughhousing ’til the pain merchants are buying again.”

Bahari jumped up, his fists clenched at his sides. “I don’t want to do this.”

“We have to. It’s for Da,” Jovan snapped back.

“I’ll”—Bahari looked around the room—“do something else to help. Go to the herb sellers.”

“Bahari!” Danello gasped. “Half the time they sell you poisons. I’m not risking Da’s life like that.”

I shuffled back against the wall. I wasn’t sure I wanted to do this either, and I didn’t want to shift anything to Bahari if he didn’t want it.

“It’ll hurt,” he said.

“Yes, but you can handle it for a few days.”

“But—”

“Do it, Hari,” Jovan said in a voice too old for such a small boy. “Da’s never let us down, and we’re not letting him down now.”

Bahari didn’t agree, but he didn’t say no again either.

“Fine, then it’s settled. Me first.” Danello dragged over a chair from under the window and sat down, grabbing the arms tight.

“Danello…”

“Do it.”




Find more from Janice on her writing blog, website, Facebook, and Twitter.

Violet Skies by Edward L. Cote

To break up my writing time, I design book covers for fellow authors. Here's my latest cover design and a bit about Edward L. Cote's Violet Skies, the first book in his new series of the same name.  Each book is a novella, short and easy to read. This is a fresh twist on classic fantasy, but it keeps its essential nature intact.


Taya Mindaerel and her mother, the Oracle of the Prairie Winds, must flee their home or face certain death at the hands of a dark hunter and his man-eating horse. Their journey takes them to Aurum, the City of Gold, where they seek the aid of the Great Magus Olbinaar.

On the way they meet three allies- Alex, a vagabond, Brand, a master swordsman, and Ogger a wild creature. They will need all the help they can get to surmount all the obstacles in their path.

In the city however, they learn that their journey has just begun.

Download Violet Skies on Amazon and Smashwords, or purchase the paperback.

Prologue

Olbinaar stood in the Grand Library of the Hall of the High Council. Two stories of books lined the walls, which were divided by oak doors at regular intervals. Six ladders granted access to the higher bookshelves. Two huge windows stood opposite each other, displaying grand views of Aurum, the City of Gold. Through each he could see the city’s aqueducts, markets, buildings and towers short and tall. The window on the western side brought light from the setting sun.

The blue robes Olbinaar wore and the insignia decorating them spoke plainly of his station and power as a Great Wizard of Aeovas. Long years and hard days had worn upon his face. Thick gray hair formed half a ring around the bald spot on top of his head and matched his well-groomed but bushy beard. His blue eyes studied the room, and his stocky frame stirred impatiently.

“Ah, Olbinaar. I thought I’d find you here,” a jovial voice said.

Olbinaar turned to find a younger colleague entering the room. “Dibian,” he said. He offered a slight bow, a courtesy not returned. “I’m waiting for the Council.”

Dibian closed the door behind him. “Yes, I know.” He wore not the blue robe of his official position, but his own black robes of fine silk. His flippant self-indulgence and habit of overeating gave him a large gut and a soft visage, but his weight was not the first thing most people noticed when they saw him. No, that would be the damnable smirk he always had on his perfectly shaven face. He kept his brown hair trimmed with the same meticulousness, but that did not draw the eye in the same way.

“You’re out of uniform,” Olbinaar said, adjusting his own robes proudly.

“Trust me, you’re the only one who cares.” Dibian walked over to a table, where he found a bottle of blue wine that had been left for Olbinaar. It was an excellent vintage, carefully crafted from blueberries and four other fruits, each more rare than the last, then aged for decades. Dibian examined the bottle’s markings and nodded in approval. With a quick gesture, he chilled it. He poured himself some of the rich dark blue wine in a crystal glass. “Are you sure you don’t want any?”

The elder wizard shook his head. “I hate to think of what that bottle must be worth. I wish the Council would spend its taxes more wisely than on attempts to impress us.” He sighed. “But frankly, I’m wondering what’s keeping them so long.”

Dibian smiled. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

Olbinaar scoffed. “Really? They’re scared, Dibian. Ultimately, there’s no telling what they will do. They must have some reassurance that we won’t simply run roughshod over them, but what . . .” he lowered his voice, “what can they really do to protect themselves?”

The younger man peeked over his glass, clear blue eyes shining. “What indeed.”

Olbinaar allowed himself a small smile. “This is unlike you. I’ve grown accustomed to you opposing everything I say out of habit.”

Dibian laughed quietly. “Whose habit is that, old man? I do what I do for my own reasons. It is you who always react to my moves, and second-guess my motives.”

Just when he thought his colleague might say something to soothe the sting from that barb, Olbinaar saw something through the western window. Three explosions lit the evening sky, quieted by distance. People filled the streets with panic.

For a second, Olbinaar stood shocked, but he roused himself to action. “The city is under attack! We must warn the Council!”

“The Council is dead,” Dibian replied flatly. He took a drink of wine then set his glass down on the table.
Olbinaar's knees wobbled. “What? Are you mad? How do you know this?” He started off toward the Council Chambers. “If this is some kind of prank—” Another explosion tore the top off of a tower. Rubble fell to the streets below in a violent cloud of dust. Olbinaar stopped walking when he saw it through the window, which shook with the roar of the blast.

Dibian sharpened his voice. “It’s no joke. They’re dead, old man. Every last one.”

“But how?”

“I killed them.”

The silence stood thick, until broken by another explosion, this one closer to the window.

Olbinaar turned to face Dibian with eyes wide in shock. “Why?”

The younger man laughed. “Why? Isn’t it obvious? Did they think they could ride us like donkeys? Or leash us like dogs? What good is a law, against us? Against this kind ofpower?” As if to punctuate his words, another explosion shattered the great window behind him. Glass shards rained on the wizards, but both protected themselves with shields of their own power, raised by well-trained reflex. The wind howled through the broken window.

Dibian raised his voice. “Pieces of paper won’t stop this. When Ruegar went mad and took it upon himself to exterminate the rest of us one by one, what did they do?”

“There was nothing they could do!”

“Exactly! We’re practically gods!”

“Are you mad? What gives you the right?”

“What right do they have to try to bind us with their laws? And now this latest farce? Do they expect us to surrender the very means to defend ourselves?” Dibian shook his head. 

Olbinaar slowed his breathing, and closed his eyes.

The murderer sighed. “Would you prefer it if I turned them into puppets? I’m fed up with even pretending to subjugate myself to those petty politicians. We all are, whether we admit it or not.” He paused. “It will be better for us to rule openly. You’ll see.”

The elder frowned. “You mean for wizards to rule the world? What of democracy?”

Dibian laughed. “Democracy is the rule of the best con artist. Let those who have true power rule over those who do not.”

The explosions continued, growing more intense. Olbinaar knew there had to be a terrible panic in the streets, and untold dead and wounded. What he could see would not be the half of it. He looked out the broken window, a breeze blowing his robe and beard. He asked, “Are you doing this somehow?”
Dibian scoffed. “What would I have to gain? This city could stand to be redecorated, but there must be some easier way to do that.”

Olbinaar rounded on him, but before he could speak, Dibian scowled and said, “Who do you think it is out there? Telaron and Sela are in the city as well, and that makes four. Did you really think Ruegar would pass up a chance to come after four of us at once?”

Olbinaar sighed. “I did not know you were here, or that you had brought your lover.”

“Ah yes, but I am, and I did. Hmm.” Dibian paused to take a fig from the tray and bite into it. “I wonder if he simply followed me here. I've made no secret of my whereabouts.” He finished the fig and licked his fingers. “Oh well. What’s done is done. Ruegar is here, and I know none of you can defeat him alone.” He walked over to the broken window and put a finger to his lips. “Perhaps . . . I could . . . but I've too little to gain to risk my life on those odds.” Dibian looked down, where Olbinaar could see a crowd running through a street below. The murderer looked back at Olbinaar with that arrogant smirk. “It seems we’ll have to work together this time.”

Olbinaar looked out the window, at the fire and crumbling buildings. He knew what Ruegar wanted— he was trying to smoke them out. He also knew that he could not hope to defeat Ruegar the Mad on his own, but Dibian had some skill in magical combat, and his lover Sela was twice as fierce as any man. Olbinaar’s apprentice Telaron might already be dead, but if he were not, only swift action would save him. Justice for Dibian's crimes would have to wait. The only way to prevent much more bloodshed was to fight alongside a half-mad devil of a woman and a cold-blooded murderer.

Olbinaar growled, frowned, and fumed, but there was nothing else he could do. He looked over his shoulder and said, “For now.”



Find more from Edward on his website, Twitter and Goodreads.