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Violet Midnight
Violet Night, #1
ISBN: 9781937254810
Amazon Paper: http://amzn.to/TICHVl
Barnes and Noble: http://bit.ly/RzVLHT
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/NrIgHg
Let the Hunt begin….
Blending in with her college co-eds proves difficult for vampire Hunter, Emma Martin, considering the mystical tattoo on her wrist glows whenever Vamps are near. And after three months of silence, the glow is back with a vengeance.
Jake Cunningham witnesses Emma, a violet-eyed beauty, using unimaginable powers to fight off a fanged creature. Finally, after two years of searching, he may have found out what he’s become—a Hunter, like Emma.
Thankful for an ally in the fight against the Vamps, Emma finds hope and comfort in Jake’s arms. As she learns more about her new love’s family and its dark heritage, she may be forced not only to hunt them but to sacrifice her life to save Jake’s soul.
“Rush hooked me from page one!
Fast-paced, gripping, this tale of vampire hunters is full of action and
suspense. A great read! Buffy had better watch out…Emma Martin is one hunter to
watch!” -Cynthia Eden,
National Best-selling Author
***A portion of all proceeds benefits cancer research and awareness***
Violet Midnight Excerpt:
“What am I? You mean what sorority am I? Or—”
“No.” Jake crept forward until only three feet separated
them. “I mean, what are you? Those
three men…whatever they were—”
Emma let out the loudest, hopefully believable, fake
laugh she could muster considering the circumstances. He’d seen everything.
Mind-wipe time.
“They were just drunk dudes, knocked me in—”
“No they weren’t. Look. It’s okay. I—things—I understand
different.” Jake eyed the partially closed door across the room. “You can trust
me.”
Emma huffed. Trust. Yeah, right. Two years ago, almost
to the day, her life went bonkers. Strange things happened to her after the
crash that killed her parents. She trusted no one, let alone a total and
complete stranger.
No matter how drawn to him she felt.
He seized her wrist before she’d even registered he’d
moved. Too distracted by his dominating presence in the small room.
She tugged at his grip, but he held fast.
Wait—was that warmth? He cuffed her wrist with his
strong, able fingers. The same fingers that had caressed her spine so gently as
she coughed half the pool from her lungs.
Damn water.
She hadn’t noticed any heat then, or when he had held
her neck, maybe because of wet clothes and hair. But now, there was no
clothing, no water to obstruct the direct skin-to-skin contact. It sent a
dizzying heat up her forearm, over her shoulder and straight to her chest.
She’d not felt warmth—any fluctuation in temperature—in
two years. Her lungs tightened, forcing her to take small gasps for air. God
she missed heat. She missed cuddling. Missed human touch.
And he wasn’t even asking about her cold skin.
Probably assumed it was from the water. Didn’t matter.
She let the tension roll out into his grip and absorbed the sensual feelings
penetrating her barriers. Just for a minute.
“Interesting tattoo.” He turned her hand, exposing her
wrist.
Damn, she’d lost her watch in the water!
He stood so close his breath whispered against her
cheek. How could she smell a heady, earthy scent emanating from him through the
chlorine saturating his clothing and hair?
“Does it mean something?” he asked.
Emma shook her head, too lost in his touch heating her
blood to verbalize a response. Not that she’d tell him it identified her as a
Hunter, a protector with kick-ass powers. Or that it appeared on her skin
overnight, while she lay in a hospital bed after the crash two years ago.
With his free hand, he traced the arrow, and Emma’s legs
morphed into wet noodles. She leaned against the desk, not having realized
she’d backed up so far. Thankfully she had, because it kept her vertical.
What was happening to her?
His finger followed the pulsing blue vein to the crook
of her elbow, up her arm until his hand cupped her shoulder, all the while, he
held her wrist tight with his other hand. His already nearly black eyes
darkened as the pupils ate up the dark irises. His gaze shifted, and his tongue
moistened his plump, completely lickable bottom lip.
The heat that’d ignited in her heart suddenly pooled in
her belly—very low in her belly.
He leaned forward, mouth only inches from hers. Even his
breath on her lips was warm. Amazing. How could she feel warmth with his touch
when she couldn’t with any other person?
Need more.
“I saw how strong you were. How you fought them off.” He
stepped into her. “And this tattoo. I’ve seen it before.”
Oh, God.
“It’s a symbol of power. Apollo and Artemis.” His voice
went husky.
“How do you know that?”
“I know a lot, Emma.” His hand followed the curve of her
shoulder until he caressed the nape of her neck. “Why’d you pick this mark to
put on your skin?”
A wave of heat stormed through her. “I didn’t choose
it.” Emma licked her lips in anticipation. “Woke up with it two years ago.”
She stretched toward him, and the softest, warmest lips
met hers. He tensed, probably at the cool temperature of her skin, but she
didn’t care. She only craved his warmth. His touch.
So long she’d been without.
About this Author:
Driven to
write, Lynn Rush often sees her characters by closing her eyes watching their
story unfold in her mind. Lynn Rush is a pen name that is a combination of two
sources – Lynn, the first name of her mother-in-law, who passed away and Rush –
since the author is a former inline speed skater and mountain biker. All of
Rush’s books are dedicated to Lynn, her namesake, and a portion of the proceeds
benefits cancer research and awareness.
Rush
holds a degree in psychology from Southwest Minnesota State University and a
master's degree from the University of Iowa. Originally from Minneapolis, Rush
currently enjoys living in the Arizona sunshine by road biking nearly 100 miles
per week with her husband of 16 years and jogging with her two loveable
Shetland Sheep dogs.
Connect
with Lynn online:
