|
Has anyone else watched the new Dracula miniseries? Holy moly, I was shipping Sister Agatha and Count D the entire time! I'm seriously trying to find the time to write some super hot vamps now because of it.
In current book news: Savage Claim is going through edits, woo! And I have an introduction of Lindley here for you!
***
Lindley Levine growled as soon as the cage doors of the fighting ring swung closed. The rattle of the chain wrapping around the handles and the click of the lock didn’t register. He was too keyed up. Too pissed off. He just wanted to wipe the cocky grin off his opponent’s face.
It wasn’t his father’s smirk, but it’d do in a pinch.
The fucker was just one of a thousand problems lurking around the corner. War was brewing with the bullshit lion consortium trying to pit shifters and humans against one another, and his alpha had nearly lost his mate in the first skirmish, but Roland Levine was the extra weight that snapped Lindley’s carefully crafted mask of control.
He launched himself across the cage, fists already swinging. The asshole--bear, maybe, he didn’t give a fuck--barely had time to register the attack before Lindley landed a hard hit on his chin, snapping his head back.
The crowd roared, bloodlust hot on their lips. He could taste their excitement in the air, smell it with every breath he dragged into his lungs. They wanted to see red spilled on the floor.
He jumped back before the man he fought recovered. Bouncing from foot to foot, he watched and waited. He’d fought enough times in the ring or out in the wilds to know the next move to their chaotic dance.
Like clockwork, his opponent surged into action. A shout on his lips, he punched out with sharp jabs, trying to catch Lindley in the gut or head. He blocked the first, grunted as the second connected with his shoulder, and met the third with a solid blow of his own.
His lion roared through him, aching for blood just as loudly as the crowd cheering on the fight. The fight was a necessity he couldn’t ignore, just as much as breathing and eating and drinking. Nothing quenched the fire boiling in his center like a hard-fought win. Nothing else kept him steady.
That was the Levine in him. Lindley loved it. Hated it. Two sides of the same damn coin, with his father’s head stamped on both.
|
