SUUUUUPER quick update today, lovelies! I'm still deep in the writing cave, brainstorming Lords of Night book two, and anxiously anticipating getting the second jab this weekend (YAYAYAYAY!).
And here's a new snippet!
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Huxley glanced back in the mirror, then twisted in his seat for a better look. Grim lines set around his mouth as grunted. “He needs to feed.”
Soren shot a glare to the other vampire. “Mothering fucking hen.”
“Spoiled little lordling.”
Warmth blasted through him as Gemma settled her hand on his arm. Softly, she asked, “You need to feed, don’t you?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s not that bad. I’ll feed once I know we’re safe.” We? Her.
“Bullshit,” she muttered. “This isn’t the time for some macho savior crap.”
Up ahead, Huxley bit down on his fist to cover his grunt of laughter. Soren glared at his reflection in the mirror before ripping his gaze back to the beautiful creature eyeing his wrecked stomach.
Faust was going to be so pissed at another ruined shirt.
“I’m not feeding from you,” Soren insisted. “We’ve never even kissed.”
She flinched at the idiotic words, then surprised him when she crawled into his lap. Soft strokes of her fingers ran down his arms, then pressed hard against the outer edges of his wound. Pain flashed through him, screwing down to a blinding pinprick of light.
Something brushed against his lips.
Soren cranked open his lids to find Gemma still close enough for her breath to warm his skin. Her scent flooded his nose. Vanilla and honey and life. Pure, sweet life pounded away under her skin, so powerful he could almost see it shining through her pores.
“I didn’t know you were such a prude,” she teased softly. Worry creased the edges of her eyes.
He shook his head and tried not to stare at her beating pulse. Tried not to listen to the steady thump, thump, thump of her heart driving him to madness. “I’ll show you how much I’m not when I’m healed.”
“Good thing there’s an easy way to get there,” she lobbed right back. She hesitated a fraction of a second before gathering her hair and tilting her head to the side. Quieter, she added, “I’ve never done this before.”
“Never?” Fuck. The implication rushed blood straight to his cock and dropped his fangs. His. She’d be his entirely.
No. Not his. She could still walk away.
Even he couldn’t dispute his own lie. There was no walking away for her. Not from him. Not from anyone who discovered what she could do. She was stuck in the shit until the very end.
He’d do everything possible to see that didn’t mean her end.
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