I am hot off an all-nighter, so pardon any insanity. I'm pretty sure words have no meaning anymore. House of Earth and Blood by Sarah J. Maas? Yeah, that did it for me. Pure fae magic, my friends, because I could not put it down and sobbed my way through probably the last two hundred pages.
BOOK NEWS: Soren and Gemma are rapidly expanding this story and demanding I keep up with their antics. They just might be the death of me. Send coffee. Then booze.
Enjoy this first look!
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“And where do you think you’re going?”
Gemma froze. Shit. Fuck.
She squeezed her eyes closed and hoped to sink straight to the center of the planet. Maybe he’d get distracted. Maybe the other one would come back. Anything to turn the focus away from her.
“You’re not going to turn invisible by standing there.”
She cracked her eyes open to find him very much in front of her.
Tall. He was tall. She had to crane her neck to meet his eyes. One look, and she dropped her gaze immediately. Clear blue eyes stared at her from under eyebrows drawn and pinching his nose. A nice nose, at that. She’d never been one to question the attractiveness of a nose, but his was straight and not overly beakish or bulbous at the end. Not too thick or thin, either. Just right for his square jaw, kissable lips, and eyes that made her insides melt.
His nostrils flared and his eyebrows shot tighter together, this time with an air of perplexity. “What are you?”
“Nothing, right now.” Gemma watched him with the same confusion. What the hell sort of question was that? “A little between jobs. Bartending, mostly, but all the good spots—”
“That’s not what I meant,” he said coldly.
One step carried him closer, then another. Gemma wet her lips and glanced over her shoulder for an escape or rescue, but there was nothing but wall and a decidedly lack of white knights riding to her aid.
He was even closer when she swung her attention around. Fine hairs up and down her body lifted as if a current of electricity arced between them.
His lids lowered to half-mast, but she wasn’t fooled. Every inch of his six foot and more body was focused on her, his prey. He simply toyed with her like a cat with a mouse.
“Why was he after you?”
“Not me,” she corrected with a shake of her head. “I only heard a noise and came to see—”
He planted one hand against the wall at her shoulder. The other followed with a look daring her to run before he caged her between his arms.
Lord, he even had his shirt sleeves rolled up to show off muscled forearms. And if those looked that good, she could only imagine what else he packed under his silky shirt and tailored slacks.
What in the damn hell was Mr. Boardroom doing pursuing Mr. Murder at an orphanage?
Nope. Nuh-uh. Questions were off the menu. She was not going to be that ill-fated curious cat simply because he flashed some arm at her. Vampire business was dangerous business, and she would not die at Saint Agnes on her mothereffing twenty-sixth birthday!
“You still haven’t answered my question.” He dipped his nose to the crook of her neck, trailing the tip along her skin. “Why do you smell so fucking delicious?”
Oh, God. He was going to bite her.
The worst part about it? Her body didn’t seem to care. Welcomed it, in fact. Her heart thundered against her breastbone, her breath shuddered in and out of her lungs. Even her knees took to quivering. She pressed her hands against the wall at her back to keep from gripping fistfuls of his shirt. To keep herself upright or drag him closer, she didn’t know.
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