A heart can break, even one that no longer beats.
I stalk my new neighbors, a single mother and her child, drawn by the irresistible scent of their joy and love. I crave their blood, starved for some healing respite from my ancient guilt and grief. Now to lure them into my grasp.
But they surprise me. Little Olivia accepts me without fear–talking, smiling, offering innocent affection that tugs at my long-lost humanity. Her mother, Samantha, seeks me out when she should stay away, offering sweet friendship, and tempting the forgotten man within me. They lure me instead.
Ah, Dio, Lucien, run and spare them while you can…
NJRW Golden Leaf Winner Best Paranormal Romance of 2011
NJRW Golden Leaf Finalist for Best First Book of 2011
GDRW Booksellers’ Best Award Finalist for Best Paranormal of 2012
GDRW Booksellers’ Best Award Finalist for Best First Book of 2012
“This is a dangerous game you’re playing, Samantha.”
She shivered. “Oh really? How is that?” The flirtation in her voice was unmistakable. And enthralling.
Before she could see me, I scooped some of her ice cream on my finger and wiped it messily across her lips and chin. She screamed and laughed. I swallowed hard at the lush softness of her lips.
She turned to face me on the table. Still grinning, she cleaned her face with a napkin. Then she saw the ice cream still on my finger. “Sorry, that was my only napkin.” I grimaced at the ice cream and Samantha huffed.
“Who doesn’t like ice cream? Do you want me to get rid of that for you?” She met my eyes and arched one eyebrow.
The mild scent of her adrenaline intrigued me. “Please,” I said quietly, observing her with interest.
She grabbed my hand by the wrist and pulled it down to her face.
I gaped at her intentions but was so captivated my finger was in her mouth before I’d even grappled with whether to allow her to do it.
My brain exploded with the sensation. Ah, Cristo. So warm. So wet.
Her pulse beat through her tongue. I fought not to gasp out loud. My eyes stung as blood threatened to rush in, as happened when I fed or felt threatened or aroused. It took all my concentration to will the blood away.
“There,” she whispered as her lips slid off the tip of my wet finger. Her heart thundered in her chest. The blossoming scent of her arousal was mouthwatering. “All better.”
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