The purpose here is to spotlight a few lines or a few paragraphs from a new release or backlisted title. This way my readers get to sample some delicious snippets and I'll do my best to tease, titillate and tantalize you into the weekend.
Today I'm teasing with my re-release of HER DEVOTED VAMPIRE, a revised and expanded edition of an older story. Bridget Shanahan was kidnapped by a handsome rich guy, and she's making a break for it. Too bad he's faster and stronger, and no longer amused.
Holy fuck! The pain left her breathless and she collapsed, but it didn’t matter with the large, dark, and heavy weight on top of her.
The weight turned its head, and two red, glowing eyes glared back at her. Harsh breathing warmed her face and neck while panic rebuilt her shriek. Her own panting competed with his, and they sounded like they practiced Pranayama in some high-end yoga studio. Anger surged as she squirmed to get away.
“Get off me!”
“I told you not to run.” His grip tightened with his growl. “I told you we’d catch you. You were injured and needed to rest. This isn’t a joke. You shouldn’t be out here in the dark.”
“No, it isn’t a joke, and I don’t want to stay with you.” Bridget struggled in his grip. “Let me go. You can’t keep me here.”
“I beg to differ.” He hauled her to her feet and held her fast. Bitter experience kept her from pulling away.
Gotta get away.
She relaxed all her muscles and let gravity have at her. Her body slithered out of his arms to the ground.
As soon as she was free, she scrambled to her feet and bolted away from him. He cursed and grabbed for her, but she ducked and twisted out of reach. She managed to dodge trees and underbrush as she scanned the dark forest. She darted to her left around a tree to give herself a little cover, but the New England woods had far less underbrush than those in Michigan where she’d grown up.
Maybe I can--
She didn’t get to finish her thought as Fredrick caught her again. This time, he lifted her off her feet and threw her kicking and snarling over his shoulder.
“Oh my God, let me go!” Bridget rained blows on his backside with her good arm, twisting her body off of his shoulder, and trying to slam her knees into his gut. He merely tightened his arms around her knees and hips, ignoring her hands entirely. Her fury mounted, and she opened her mouth to bite him through his mock turtleneck sweater.
His snarl echoed through the silent trees as he lugged her back to the house. “Do that, and I’ll show you what biting really is.”
She stiffened at the cold menace in his voice then slumped against his back. Her arm was still sore, and her torso hurt from the impact with the hard ground. Each step he took jabbed his shoulder into her belly, and her stomach roiled.
It’d serve him right if I threw up down his back.
Cold, pain, frustration, and defeat flashed through her in a kaleidoscope of sensations. She pressed her face against his shoulder blade and let the tears loose. The heat of his body seeped into her and the delicious scent of his clothes filled her nose, but the fear wouldn’t let her enjoy them. She turned her head to rest her cheek on his back and closed her eyes. Tears oozed out from under her lids and she sobbed. God only knew what he’d do with her now.
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