Promotion Hosted by Bewitching Book Tours
Hunting the Siren
Book Two in the
Blood Currency Series
By Jeffe Kennedy
A vampire queen grown powerful with age, Imogen has protected her
band of nightriders through the centuries. When refugee vampires from
earthquake-shattered Europe seek shelter and sustenance, she’s honor-bound to
feed them, by any means necessary. When her lieutenants dump the vengeful human
man Kasar at her feet, Imogen succumbs to his masculine vitality and her
overwhelming hunger for his blood—and his body.
Kasar has survived the breaking of the world, only to discover the
vampire queen has slaughtered his sister and her unborn child. With the last of
his bloodline dead, only his desire for vengeance keeps Kasar alive. He
imagines he can pretend to succumb to Imogen’s seduction—not that he has much
of a choice, chained as he is to the foot of her bed—and bide his time until he
has an opportunity to kill her. The passion he finds in her arms is unexpected,
and impossible to resist. But this haven of desire and satiation could easily
destroy them both.
An Excerpt From: HUNTING THE SIREN
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Shock flashed across the vampire
queen’s face. At least, that’s what it looked like,
from Kasar’s peripheral vision. Perhaps a flash of something else. A
bit of a wound there, like the death pain in that little goat’s eyes.
An absurd thought, since this
woman—this vampire—was clearly all lithe predator, with nothing fragile in her.
Had he remembered her as beautiful?
Now she seared him, all fire and skin, lounging on her throne, that
extraordinary cape of hair spilling over the sides of it. A laced-up black
leather vest left her tan, lean arms bare and pushed up the tempting upper
curves of her breasts. The lovely line of her throat led to a pointed chin and
full lips worthy of prima donna at the Bolshoi.
Dragging his eyes down from the
memory of her compelling golden gaze, he tried to focus on her feet. The
leather boots hugged her ankles and calves, showing every
curve, then revealed her naked thighs. The short skirt she wore rode
high, nearly revealing the shadowed recesses of her sex. Even as she toyed with
him, he found himself looking again and yet again, hoping she’d spread her legs
just a bit more.
When she’d lifted his chin with the
toe of her boot, he hadn’t resisted, taking the opportunity to see another inch
or two. He was lost.
“It seems, my lovely human man,
that your plans are for naught.” Her rich voice poured over him. He
couldn’t quite pin the accent. She had an almost European turn of phrase, but
that cinnamon-gold skin looked as if she was born to the Steppes. “Now I have
captured you.”
“Then kill me,” he told her for a
second time. Truly he’d been surprised to wake up, not to be dead already,
along with everyone else. His survival was a mistake. Soon to be rectified.
“Drink me dry and have done.”
She turned the keriss in
her hands, the precious blade catching the firelight, even sullied with blood.
“I don’t think so.”
“Shall I send him to join the—”
The queen cut off the big vampire
with a flick of glossy red nails.
“No, Sandahr. I believe I shall
keep this one for a bit.”
A murmur of surprise ran through the
yurt.
The big vampire stepped
forward, knelt down, close enough to Kasar for his cloak to
brush his shoulder, and took her hand. This was the one who had
pulled Mélanie off him. Seven feet tall, Kasar guessed, and
yet he prostrated himself to this petite woman, leaning his forehead on her
hand.
“My Queen—you’ll take him for your
pet?” The vampire’s voice trembled with emotion.
She brushed a hand over the
vampire’s shining thick braid of hair. “This pleases you, Sandahr?”
“You know it does, my
Queen.” Sandahr stared up at her in fervent adoration. “I had been
afraid that—”
“Shh.” The queen laid a crimson nail
on the vampire’s lips. “We will talk later. Meanwhile,” she raised her voice,
surveying the room, “take my new pet to my yurt. Clean him up, but keep him
chained. No one is to speak to him, understood?”
Anger surged in him,
but Kasar also saw opportunity. He might yet have the chance to kill
her. Perhaps his resistance tempted her. The best hunters could rarely resist
the trophy of the most elusive prey.
“I will not belong to you.”
“But you already do, my— What is
your name?”
“Isn’t it customary to rename a new
pet?” he taunted her.
“True.” She leaned over, her hair
following in a silky slide, and cupped his face in her hands. “What shall I
call you, my sweet kitty cat with such sharp tiny claws? I think…Lapushka. My
little paw. We’ll just see if you can scratch me.”
Her breath feathered over his cheek,
her proximity blocking the light. He closed his eyes and took a steadying
breath. Instead of flowery perfume, or the chemically
calculated musks modern women had worn, she smelled of leather and
horses, and the salt of blood as she exhaled.
His cock, already hard for her,
throbbed. The terror of imminent death, rage at his easy capture, the desperate
hope that he might yet have the opportunity to succeed in his revenge—all of it
faded at the hot brush of those lush lips against his cheek.
“What thoughts stir you
so, Lapushka?” Her whiskey voice murmured in his ear and her nails scraped
lightly down his chest. “I hear your heart pounding and smell your lust.
Perhaps being mine sounds not so awful to you, hmm?”
Her tongue flicked into his ear,
catlike, and he clenched down on the moan of raging desire. Her pleased chuckle
rolled over him.
“Oh yes. I shall have fun breaking
you to ride, my fine stallion.”
CHECK OUT BOOK ONE IN THE BLOOD CURRENCY SERIES:
Feeding the Vampire
Book
One in the Blood Currency Series
By
Jeffe Kennedy
Publisher:
Ellora's Cave
Date
Published: August 3, 2011
ASIN:
B005HBYPGW
Through good luck and healthy cowardice,
Misty has survived the earthquakes that have torn the world apart, but has no
skills to speak of. Or so she thinks. She does have blood, and someone must
feed the vampire who has offered his protection and strength in exchange for
sustenance.
Feeding Ivan is a priority, and Misty
finally serves a purpose. But when she awakens tied to his bed, an unwilling
gift to Ivan from the townspeople, she discovers he has hungers other than
blood.
Hungers he expects her to satisfy in the
most carnal manner. Under his seductive persuasion Misty discovers she has the
power to sustain Ivan in all ways, while experiencing unspeakable pleasure
herself.
Feeding the
Vampire
Excerpt
I was compelled to feed him. I had no
choice, really.
Earl cleared his throat. “Thank you.” Our
town administrator looked around for agreement, but they weren’t meeting his
eyes either. Like kids ducking the teacher’s gaze. “Thank you, Misty. We all
appreciate your…” He trailed off uncomfortably.
Sacrifice? Surely no one wanted to hear
that word aloud. Martyr to the cause?
No, not much better.
Earl shuffled the papers in his lap.
Waiting for me to get to it, I supposed. Well, he had just said that feeding
Ivan ought to be the first order of business. We couldn’t very well make plans
for our community while the guy in charge of our defenses wilted before our
eyes, especially since we needed him alert and focused. Me? I was pretty damn
expendable. I hadn’t brought much to the table so far, except my survival,
which really was accidental. Right place at the right time. Turns out stolid
New England was just the right place to be for the particular form this
apocalypse took. Granite bedrock and all that.
My boring hometown was a safe haven and
everyone wanted in on our resources. The people turning up every day were let
in or turned away depending on what they offered. I counted my lucky stars I’d
been grandfathered in simply because my neighbors didn’t have the heart to kick
me out. Excellent keyboarding skills and a customer-friendly personality didn’t
count for much in this economy. Especially without, um, customers or working
keyboards.
I couldn’t afford to be a useless mouth to
feed. Their hearts would harden—they already had. Tonight was pivotal. We’d
acquired a vampire of our own for defense. Everyone felt better about our
future—if we could keep him happy. At least I knew how to make blood. You could
say I was a natural. And yet, the certainty that had propelled me to my feet
seemed to be bleeding away, frightened off by Ivan’s fixed intensity and
everyone else’s obvious relief. They waited, restless, for me to just get on
with it. Uncomfortable silence.
Hi, I’m Misty and I’m a Fool. I haven’t
done anything really unwise in twenty-seven days. Kind of a record for me
really. Apparently I was due.
The vampire just stared at me.
I set my yellow pad on the chair and made
myself walk across the circle to where he sat in the tacky folding metal chair.
My sandals slapped lightly on the tiles, making tinny echoes. Ivan’s roving
gaze sent tremors of anticipation up my thighs.
A few murmured conversations resumed. They
probably didn’t like the creepy silence any more than I did. I appreciated
their polite attempt not to gawk. I’d never seen a vampire feed—probably none
of them had either. I stopped in front of Ivan. He leaned back, long legs
sprawled out in careless indolence. He tilted his head at my hesitation and
held out his hands as if to help me down from a carriage.
“Perhaps we should step out of the room?”
I tried.
“I haven’t the strength to stand.” His
grave eyes watched me with avid intent.
If I ran, he would definitely find the
strength to hunt me down. After all, he’d walked into this room. Heck, he’d
arrived at the bridge leading to our sleepy town only last night, offering his
protection in return for our shelter and sustenance. He had to have gotten
there somehow.
He wrapped his long fingers around my
wrists, cuffing them with bands of steel. Exerting steady pressure, he drew me
closer, parting his lips. White fangs gleamed with fluorescent highlights. My
heart thumped in panic, hot fear filling me.
“Will it hurt?” My voice sounded thready,
weak.
Hunger flared in his eyes at the question.
“It always does.”
Ivan snapped me against his hard body. The
sharp movement splintered any second thoughts. He pulled me astraddle his lap.
My cheap cotton dress hiked up alarmingly. The chafe of his dark denim jeans
sent tremors up my fully exposed thighs. Shame and terror flashed through me.
Then all thought and emotion burst in
flame, immolating me through the fierce violence of his teeth sinking into my
throat. The agony of the deep puncture, fear feeding pain, fired through my
blood. I struggled like a wild thing, without thought. Animal instinct screamed
at me to flee, to escape by any means possible.
The vampire held me trapped. There was no
escape for me, the mouse flailing under the cat’s paw.
My will, never my strong point, snapped.
The fight ebbed away with the tide of my blood. The steady drop of pressure
left me enervated, without resistance. Darkness filled my brain, prickled with
sparking stars. I wilted, becoming a bit of detritus washed upon the shore of
Ivan’s body.
Pain filled my veins, pumped through my
heart. It replaced my blood, spiraling through my body from the insistent
penetration of Ivan’s teeth in my throat. Helpless against the crashing waves,
I relinquished my last hold on consciousness and sank into the hot, tarry sea
of oblivion.
About this Author:
Jeffe Kennedy took the crooked road to
writing, stopping off at neurobiology, religious studies and environmental
consulting before her creative writing began appearing in places like Redbook,
Puerto del Sol, Wyoming Wildlife, Under the Sun and Aeon. An erotic novella,
Petals and Thorns, came out under her pen name of Jennifer Paris in 2010,
heralding yet another branch of her path, into erotica and romantic fantasy
fiction. Since then, an erotic short, Feeding the Vampire, and another erotic
novella, Sapphire, have hit the shelves.
Her contemporary fantasy novel, Rogue’s Pawn,
book one in A Covenant of Thorns, will be published in July, 2012. Jeffe lives
in Santa Fe, with two Maine coon cats, a border collie, plentiful free-range
lizards and frequently serves as a guinea pig for an acupuncturist-in-training.
Find her on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/Author.Jeffe.Kennedy)
and Twitter (@jeffekennedy) or visit her at her website http://jeffekennedy.com/.
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