When a past you can’t remember, leads to a truth you wish you could forget and a future you hope will last forever.
Waking up in a strange place with no memory is hard enough; but when you unknowingly wake as a vampire with an insatiable desire to drain a stray cat of its life’s blood -- then you can bet that you’re about to take a journey down a very bumpy road.
Sydney Chance finds herself a stranger to her new life as well as the one she left behind. On a reluctant mission to uncover her past, Sydney’s struggle with bloodlust is magnified when all of her senses draw her to a brooding and intriguing vampire named Demetri Bastian, who seems more intent on fighting her at every turn as he keeps her at arm’s length while trying to protect and control.
To make matters worse, a sadistic ancient vampire, who makes it his hobby to collect beautiful young women and keep them as pets, has his fangs set on Sydney.
Not knowing her own name takes a back seat to the drama that unfolds all around her as she seeks revenge on the vampire who created her, sending her on a suspenseful trail of love, lies, betrayals, twists and turns that could quite possibly destroy her, immortal or not.
Who says what you don’t know can’t hurt you?
Excerpt
“She’s done here. Stay if you want, but she’s leaving now.” He took my hand and pulled me away. I resisted, but he picked me up, threw me over his shoulder, and stormed out. I was draped over him like a rolled up rug.
“Put me down, dammit!” I protested as he carried me to the parking lot and stood me upright by his Escalade. “Where is Saul?” I looked around for his brother. If anyone would take my side, it would be Saul.
“On a plane to Montreal,” he grumbled.
He opened the door of the truck, picked me up and plopped me down in the front seat as though I couldn’t do it on my own.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m getting you out of here.”
“Are you mad?” I whined. I was angry, but the last thing I wanted was for him to be mad at me.
“Not at you. This was all Porscha.” His voice was thick with contempt.
“I’m the one who drank Thomas’s blood, she didn’t make me.”
“Who the hell is Thomas?” I noticed a twinge of jealously in his tone, that wasn’t my imagination.
“My cheesecake back at the club.” I giggled and pointed out the window behind us, but the club had disappeared.
His brows pinched together and a hint of frustration wrinkled his forehead. “The human’s irrelevant. You shouldn’t have been there, not like that, not now.” His tone softened, but I still sensed the anger.
I leaned against the window and watched him as he drove. He was beautiful even when he was furious. There was something about him that had me so twisted I could hardly think. The smooth eyebrow that arched just so when he was mad, the silken edge of his jaw noticeable even when taut with anger, the full lips that remained supple, though harsh words often passed through them, he was breathtaking. And, when he was like this, he was everything.
We drove through the city and finally reached the parking garage of a tall building. He parked in a reserved spot with Bastian on a golden plaque, near an elevator. I waited as he came around and opened the door. I didn’t move.
“Come on, let’s go,” he ordered.
I didn’t budge. Infatuation aside, I was still pissed.
“I’ll toss you back over my shoulder and that elevator is well insulated and private. You can kick and scream all you want, but you’re still going up.”
Judging by his tone, he meant it, but naturally, I tested him.
In a flash, I was upside down again being hauled off over his shoulder. He was right about the elevator. It was well insulated which was good, because what I screamed at the top of my lungs from the time the doors closed ‘til they opened on the penthouse floor, were words a lady probably shouldn’t know, much less say.
The doors opened, not into a hallway, but directly in the middle of the apartment itself. He locked the elevator as we exited.
The far wall was solid glass the length of the penthouse. The whole city illuminated below. We were in the highest building around. Busy streets and rooftops blanketed the world beneath. My anger gave way to awe.
“Where are we?” I struggled to retain my balance as I leaned toward the window. The lingering effects of the blood and from being upside down had me woozy.
“My penthouse.”
“Wow.” I savored the lights of Chicago. My head swirled and made me nauseous as my vision focused then blurred. I tried not to think about the height. Stop looking down.
I stumbled back, sure I would hit the floor, but instead, hit something hard, like a wall.
Demetri stood behind me. I fell into his massive arms. Lucky me. I turned around and saw only his chest. My gaze moved up in until it reached his perfect face. Inhumanly gorgeous.
I found myself captivated, again, by his dazzling eyes. He was the epitome of what a man should be--strong, chivalrous, sexy and as handsome as a god. Even the way he infuriated me, ignited an undeniable passion.
I moved closer and inhaled deep. There was no mistaking that scent. That natural organic scent of sandalwood and juniper, sweet and salty just like him. It was his and his alone, distinct and desirable. I wanted him badly. His arms around me, as he held me up, sent tingles down my stomach that settled between my thighs as sensual ideas rolled around in my head.
I looked at him through the eyes of a woman, not of the uncertain, lost, confused stray I’d been.
He was still and didn’t move. His eyes shone profoundly emerald green. I loved it when they shifted to that color most.
Without forethought, I stretched up and pressed my lips to his. They were sweet, just like I’d dreamed-- supple and tasting of honey. I’d never sampled anything so wonderful.
He didn’t move away. Instead, he leaned into me, pressing his lips harder to mine. He trembled. My mouth parted and I tasted his delicious tongue. Our breathing increased. He grabbed my shoulders and squeezed, pulling me to him tighter. He kissed me feverishly. It took everything within me not to jump up, wrap my legs around his waist, and hold onto him for dear life.
He pushed me back onto the sofa and poured his body on top of mine as the full breadth of his massive form billowed over me. The kisses increased and became longer and desperate. The precisely choreographed movement of our bodies kept a rhythmic pace as we melted into each other, becoming one.
His lips trailed down my neck. Sensational chills shot through my body as he kissed my throat and shoulders. I was overwhelmed. I’d never wanted anything more.
Abruptly, he stopped and rose up over me. His brows furrowed, as though in pain. “I… I don’t want this.”
“What?” What did he say?
“I can’t do this. This isn’t how you’re supposed to feel about me.” He sprang up and turned away.
I couldn’t move. “I don’t understand. How am I supposed to feel about you?”
“I can’t let myself think of you this way. It’s unbelievably wrong.”
“Are you serious?”
Demetri kept his back to me. “I don’t deserve this.”
I shook my head, confused. “Deserve what?” I reached for his shoulder.
He pulled away. “Nothing…just let me show you to your room.” He stood and offered his hand without looking at me.
I didn’t take it. I couldn’t. I followed, humiliated that I’d let myself want him so much. The muscles in his jaw clenched taut and his shoulders adopted the same rigid stance. Muscle by muscle his body mimicked a cold stone statue as he rigidly led me across the room, as if he wouldn’t allow himself to relax.
The room he led me to, was huge with a luxurious king-sized four poster bed in the center. The plush down comforter appeared soft and welcoming.
“You should sleep well here. I’ll be in the guest room if you need anything.” He glanced at me for an instant, then down at the floor. “I’m sorry for everything. It’s not you, it’s me.” He left, shutting the door behind him.
Could he have been more clichéd? It’s not me, it’s him. Give me a break. Let him know if I needed anything? Was he serious? Hell yeah, I needed something. I needed him.
The day had started out so perfect and ended perfectly wrong. I climbed onto the bed, still in the black dress. I unraveled the shoes strapped to my feet and kicked them onto the floor.
I pulled back the sheets and blankets and sank into the soft mattress that cradled around me. His scent burned my throat. Everything was saturated in his essence. It was almost unbearable.
The room began to spin from the lingering effects of my scrumptious dessert. If only it spun wildly enough to erase the mistakes I kept making.
I hadn’t been this miserable since I woke a vampire almost two weeks before. I wanted to turn back the clock and rewind it all: meeting Porscha, Saul and especially him, just the way I wanted the night I ran to the waterfall. My human life couldn’t have been this messed up.
The thought of regretting my feelings for Demetri left an acidic burn in the back of my throat. No one should ever regret caring for another. The loss in my life continued to pile up in the wake of mass destruction and I was always at ground zero.
As I tried to sleep, I wondered what the fallout would be, and if the damage could be repaired. I’d messed up again, which was no big surprise. It was my new mantra. I should tattoo it to my forehead.
Of all the men I could have awakened, why did it have to be that one? Why did it have to be one who lacked the ability to reciprocate? Why couldn’t Prince Charming ride in on his white steed, scoop me up, carry me off to his castle and ravish me?
No, I had to find a brooding vampire. One who’d rather be my father than my hero. Demetri was my weakness and I couldn’t bear to make a fool of myself again by letting my guard down.
His unwavering power emanated from the other side of the door and it made me crazy. I probably wouldn’t sleep at all.
Damn.
Psychic wiccan Deja Hamilton pulls shapeshifter Lincoln McCabe from the lake, and the two form an alliance against the covetous older brother who wants Lincoln dead.
