Sink your fangs into Books 1-3 of the Vampires of London series in one handy bundle. This Vampire Romance collection includes: Alexander’s Blood Bride, Michael’s Soul Mate and Lucille’s Valentine.
Alexander’s Blood Bride
When Cat ends up at a Halloween party hosted by the mysteriously handsome and super rich Alexander Broderick, the last thing she expects is to become the object of his desire. Although she gets spooked and runs, she doesn’t yet understand the extent of his dangerous secret: Alexander, and a number of his guests, are vampires. And Cat’s blood is unlike anything they’ve smelled before…
Excerpt:
Cat turned back one last time and caught a glimpse of their cab leaving. There was nowhere else to run.
Shelly took her by the arm and almost dragged her inside.
They were both speechless. They both stood there, looking up at the most beautiful carved wooden staircase Cat had ever seen. In the center of the ceiling up above was a giant crystal chandelier, its light refracting and dancing around on the walls and parquet floor below.
A waiter arrived seconds later, offering them a glass of champagne.
Shelly emptied her glass immediately, but Cat wasn't much of a drinker. She sipped it slowly, and tried to take in as much as she could of the lush interior. This mansion didn't belong to some footballer, or other nouveau-riche celebrity. The place screamed old money.
As luxurious as it looked, it was tasteful.
Within minutes of their arrival, Shelly couldn't resist the pull of the festivities, and Cat found herself alone. She didn't mind. The champagne was lovely, refreshing with just a hint of citrus, and if Cat was left completely to her own devices, the decor alone would keep her entertained all evening.
Cat gazed at the staircase again. What wonders awaited up there? If she wasn't polite to a fault, she would have been tempted to check it out. She wouldn't, though. Not unless he was invited to.
Her eyes settled on a painting of a man on horseback that hung on the left hand wall closer to ground level. She squinted to get a better look; it seemed old, probably expensive just like everything else in here. But that wasn't what had attracted her gaze. The hunting scene looked just like the standard fare you found in country houses and palaces around the country, except the man was dressed completely in black.
She felt a chill pass down her spine as she focused on his face. His dark eyes gave the impression of being alive as he seemed to stare down at her. How handsome he was. He would have had a striking presence back in the day with his sharp jawline, impossibly flawless skin, and dark medium length hair.
If she found nothing else of interest here—which was unlikely—this one painting could captivate her for hours. That was how lifelike it looked.
Cat had to admit Shelly had been right: she'd never been to a place or a party quite like this one before.
Michael’s Soul Mate
Playboy Michael has never wanted to settle down. When he finds a severely injured woman lying in the street, his instincts insist he save her. He turns her into a vampire and takes her home, not realizing that this little random encounter is going to change his immortal life forever.
EXCERPT:
Before she knew what was happening, she found herself floating in his arms as they swiftly descended down the side of the roof and into a nearby window. Michael rushed her through the upstairs hallway, straight to one of the many bedrooms.
She briefly looked around only to note that she had never been in this room before. It must be his.
Now on her back on the bed, she watched as Michael unbuttoned his shirt. Was she ready for this? She'd thought of it after their first kiss and rejected the idea. Not that kind of woman, she'd said to herself.
All bets were off now. She wanted him. He wanted her.
What difference did it make who she had been in her mortal life? She was a vampire now. Powerful, strong, guided by instinct and pleasure.
She could have her cake and eat it too. And after getting to know Michael just a little bit, she was confident she would not be judged. The whole world lay at her feet now, as Michael had said. Anything she wanted, it would be hers for the taking.
Right now, all she wanted stood in front of her, only halfway done with the buttons on his shirt. Too slow!
She reached for him, almost clawing at the soft fabric. He understood, and with a naughty grin on his face, ripped it off in one swift move.
"Now do me," she demanded.
In the past, she might have felt insecure, but the way he was already looking at her, with lust darkening his normally light blue eyes, was all the reassurance she could wish for. He got onto all fours on top of her, leaned down, and grabbed the collar of her pullover with his teeth, then, without breaking eye contact, he tugged it off.
Anna gasped as the fabric split at the seams. How effortless it looked. Could she do the same? She pushed him back, fighting the barrage of goosebumps that spread over her naked skin as she felt his firm, chiseled chest underneath her hand. She would have plenty of opportunity to touch him. First, she wanted to play some more.
He stood back at the foot end of the bed, and she got down on her knees in front of him, pushing her fingers into the waist of his trousers and giving them a firm pull. They came off in shreds just as easily as her pullover had done.
This sort of strength she could get used to.
She dropped her own jeans and stood back, admiring him as he did the same to her.
They circled each other like animals prepping for a fight. It wasn't conflict they were after, though. Their end game would be so much more satisfying.
It was Anna who pounced first, jumping Michael and clinging onto him with her legs around his waist. They kissed again, more violently than before.
They had endless energy to spend, immense tension to release.
Their bodies felt right together, hers slightly softer than his, but still more toned and powerful than she'd ever been before. Perhaps it was for the best that she was discovering all this with him to guide her. By now, she might have broken and bruised a human lover.
"You're beautiful," he whispered in her ear.
"Mhmm," she responded, as she nuzzled the crook of his neck and bared her teeth. Was this how vampires made love? She wasn't sure, just that it felt right.
He groaned, his low voice sending a shiver down her spine.
"You're tasty," she remarked, as she pulled back and licked her lips. She hadn't meant to hurt him, much.
His eyes narrowed and he grabbed her firmly by the back of her neck, guiding their lips together again.
"Let me see. Yes, that's rather nice, isn't it?" he mumbled, in between kisses.
Then, abruptly, he threw her off, back onto the bed, and approached on all fours again. His movements were smooth, deliberate, like a large feline stalking its prey. She felt her heart flutter as she waited for what he would do next.
He was on her within a split second, his weight pressing against her naked body, as his hand tore at her underwear. She was completely naked now, completely his.
Anna couldn't suppress a moan as his hard manhood pressed against her aroused sex. It was going to happen at last. She would discover just how extra sensitive all her senses had become.
Lucille’s Valentine
Marek the Soul Eater has escaped and it’s Lucille’s job as Enforcer to return him to the Council. She’s not a team player usually, but when she finds Vampire Hunter Valentino Conti also on Marek’s trail, she decides to join forces. The longer they work together, the more their connection grows. What if the truth comes out? What if Valentino realizes Lucille is the very thing he’s been hunting all his life?
EXCERPT: Prologue
Ever since Lucille had hauled the criminal known as Marek before the Council, she could not wait for the trial to begin. She had so many questions and very few answers. Her curiosity was what made her such a driven investigator.
Marek was a Soul Eater; that much was clear. But how had he become so powerful? How old was he? How long had he been killing humans indiscriminately without appearing on her radar?
Obviously, he had only just started his reign of terror in London a few weeks ago, when a human had been found on the brink of death by one of their own. The vampire Michael had turned the unfortunate female, and Lucille had worked together with the unlikely pair to track down Marek and his henchmen.
It had been a triumphant victory for her, and earned her much praise from Julius, Lucille's maker and leader of the Council.
Tonight was finally going to be the night. The trial of Marek and his associates would begin.
He stood accused of reckless conduct that risked the exposure of the vampire race to humanity as well as attempted murder of a fellow vampire. Julius had wanted to add on more charges, but decided against it on Lucille's advice. They had caught him on the gravest crime possible. The Council took the safety of their kind extremely seriously. And randomly draining humans and leaving them for all the world to find was the most callous display of overt vampirism the city had seen in over a century. The only way the Council could have come down any harder on Marek would have been if he’d videotaped himself drinking his victim's blood and posted it on the Internet.
So it wasn't the outcome of the trial that Lucille was interested in; the case was clear and the punishment obvious; Marek would be sentenced to death, and depending on whether they were complicit or only following orders, so would his two associates. Lucille was more interested in any possible justifications Marek would give during the process. Any information at all that would shine a light on his motivations and history.
Lucille would be lying to herself if she didn't admit that Marek's immense power had intrigued and even impressed her a bit. He had been a formidable adversary.
Additionally, there was something about the vehemence with which Julius sought to punish Marek that had set off her investigative instincts. There was something more to their relationship than the Council leader had led on.
"Are you ready, my child?" Julius interrupted her thoughts.
"Yes, of course." Lucille looked up and nodded at her maker.
The most powerful vampire in the world, as Julius liked to refer to himself at times. It was true in a political sense. His claim for the Council leadership had gone unchallenged for centuries. Though Marek had shown powers that outshone Julius manifold. Was that his reason for disliking the Soul Eater so much?
He returned her nod and beckoned her to come closer.
"It'll all be over soon. Before long, Marek will no longer be able to threaten our way of life."
Lucille scrutinized the smug grin on Julius' face. He was definitely hiding something.
"Have you come across him before?" she asked.
Julius glanced at her, his face suddenly serious again. "We've known of the Soul Eaters that live outside the Council's realm of influence for centuries. You know this. Never before have they ventured into London, though."
None who were this evolved, no. Though Lucille had dealt with plenty of killers before.
That hadn't answered her question, but Lucille decided not to pry. Due to their history, Julius had a soft spot for her, but it would be unwise to exploit their relationship just to get answers out of him. Perhaps she was just being nosy. What business was it of hers whether or not Julius knew the Soul Eater from another time?
"I will call in the elders," Lucille said. "Once everyone is here we can begin."
Julius shot her a quick smile and rubbed his hands together. "Very good, my child."
Lucille left the main hall and rounded up the other six members of the Council. Although she was already four centuries old, the elders, as the term suggested, were all much more senior. At least a millennium old, each one of them. Together, they represented the far corners of the world, both ancient and modern. As the six venerable vampires entered the great hall, Lucille found herself captivated by their movements. Some seemed to levitate rather than walk, but each demonstrated a smoothness and elegance of movement that Lucille herself could not replicate if she wanted to.
Vampires, those that had the capacity to outlast the age they were born in, got better and more impressive with age.
They sat on the six chairs arranged in a semi-circle around Julius' throne. Three to his left and three to his right. There were further chairs inside the main hall facing the throne for any other vampires who wished to observe the trial. The center of the hall had been kept free for the accused.
Lucille signaled at Dominic and Cameron, the two guards stationed beside the large entrance doors, to let the audience in.
Whispers and footsteps echoed against the tall ceiling of the cathedral as about three dozen vampires shuffled inside and found their seats. Then, Julius raised his right hand and the crowd became silent.
"We are gathered here for the trial of Marek the Soul Eater and his two progenies, who shall remain unnamed," Julius spoke in a firm voice.
A whisper traveled across the audience once again.
"So it's true."
"A Soul Eater!"
"I can't believe it!"
Lucille rolled her eyes. The sort of vampires who frequented Council trials were not her usual choice of company. Then again, not many people were.
Julius cleared his throat and silence prevailed once more. "Bring in the prisoners!"
Lucille watched as the double doors swung open and two more Council guards rolled in a cage on wheels that gleamed under the chandelier in the center of the hall. The Silver Vault, as it was known, was only used during trials of the most notorious, dangerous criminals. Obviously, Marek posed a flight risk; his powers were greater than those of anyone in this room. Perhaps he was even stronger than Julius himself.
Marek's two associates were led in wearing cuffs right behind the cage.
The audience was deadly silent as the three accused were positioned in the empty space between the council members and the rest of the crowd.
Julius cleared his throat again and got up from his throne.
"Marek. You know why you are here. You are to stand trial—"
Marek shook his head. "Julius, please refer to me by my full title."
Lucille frowned. Julius and Marek did seem awfully familiar, the way they spoke to one another.
Julius' eyes narrowed. "Very well. Marek, son of Lilith. You are on trial for—"
Lilith. Only the most ancient of vampires held the title son or daughter of Lilith. Julius held this title himself. That meant Marek was an ancient? A contender for a seat on the Council?
"The rest also, if you don't mind. I've worked too hard these past millennia for my achievements to go unnoticed."
Lucille found that she was holding her breath. Marek had guts to interrupt Julius twice in front of an entire room full of his subjects. Then again, he probably knew as well as any of them that his life would soon be over, so he had nothing much to lose.
"Son of Lilith, Master of a Thousand Souls." Julius folded his arms and stared darkly at Marek. How long would his patience last?
"Thank you." Marek grinned, showing off a row of razor sharp white teeth.
During the brief contact Lucille had had with Marek, he had not struck her as one of those vampires who grew weary of immortality and longed for it all to end. Yet here he was, taunting Julius and grinning like a madman on what could very well be his last day walking this earth. It wasn't just unusual, it was unnerving.
Julius ignored Marek's remark and started listing his offenses, during which Marek seemed to grow even more cheerful. He was obviously proud of everything he’d done.
Lucille found herself tuning out Julius' monotone voice. It was all stuff she’d heard before. Killing humans, leaving their bodies, risking their exposure, blah, blah.
Instead of listening to him rehashing the same old accusations, she took the time to really observe Marek. His strange appearance had fascinated her from the moment she’d first laid eyes on him.
Vampires didn't age normally, but in the case of Marek, he seemed marked by every century he’d lived through. The casual observer might mistake his transparent skin, his slender body, and papery voice for signs of frailty. Lucille knew otherwise. It had taken a dozen guards to subdue Marek and restrain him for transport back to the Council prison.
The two younger Soul Eaters who stood toward his left now looked much more powerful, but actually did not even possess half of Marek's strength. Lucille found it difficult to control her curiosity. She knew of vampires who’d killed humans; she had locked up many of them over the years. But these three were different. They didn't just kill, they had figured out a way of absorbing a victim's essence—their strength and life-force. Not just their blood.
Was it magic?
She could not make sense of it on her own, and seeing as Julius seemed in no mood to share whatever information or previous knowledge of Marek he had… She would talk to Alexander about it as soon as the trial was over. Perhaps her brother and his vast library of old books could shed some light.
Lucille rested her gaze on the younger Soul Eater who stood nearest to the Silver Vault. He seemed unafraid, like his maker, smiling subtly and staring at nothing in particular, until suddenly he looked up right into Lucille's eyes.
A shiver travelled down her spine, but she did not let it show.
If you want to live, you'll stand down.
So he was a telepath, and a rather talented one too, if he could communicate with her halfway across the large hall.
Lucille did not take kindly to threats. Her hand instinctively reached for the dagger she kept in a sheath attached to her belt. She snapped open the clasp that held the blade in place and tightened her fingers around the grip.
She looked back at Marek, who had started to laugh. A quick glance at Julius revealed that he was starting to lose his cool. He spoke faster now, lecturing the three accused on the codes of conduct the Council lived by and promoted. His eyes were wild, his expression even tenser than before.
Lucille looked back at Marek, who had now reached for the bars on his cage, tightening his long, bony fingers around them. The scent of burning flesh filled the air as his skin reacted to the metal. An ordinary vampire would not be able to bear it, but Marek showed no sign of being in pain. Instead of letting go, he held on tighter, tugging at it until the bars started to give way.
Lucille jumped forward, her dagger drawn, and was instantly joined by the guards who had been positioned at the doors. The crowd gasped in horror as Marek's form became blurred, his body twisting and whirling around so fast that even Lucille's perfect vision could no longer focus on him. His laughter echoed through the Council chamber, growing louder and louder until it became deafening.
She reached the cage, but Marek was no longer inside. Instead, he seemed to be levitating far above the ground, still turning at lightning speed, like a whirlwind. Now what? She didn't have his talents or his powers; she could do nothing but watch.
Lucille turned and saw that Julius was frozen in place in front of his throne, his fist raised in the air in protest, lips opening and closing, without any sound coming out.
She had never seen him stumped like this.
At that moment, the stained glass of the large rosette shaped window above Julius' throne shattered as Marek's floating form surged against it and broke through. He was gone within the blink of an eye.
"Go after him," Julius hissed, before repeating himself much louder and forcefully. "Go after him at once!"
Lucille turned and found that Julius had moved from his throne. He now stood just a few feet away from her near the Silver Vault, with Marek's two followers slumped in pools of blood at his feet. After the initial shock of Marek's grand display, Julius had recovered and taken swift action and punished them with death. Their still twitching hearts lay on the ground beside their lifeless bodies.
"Yes, master," Lucille mumbled. It had been extremely difficult capturing Marek the first time around. This time, she would need a miracle.
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