My Blood Brother Books

My first Four novels are in the Blood Brothers series. The characters in Kiss of Death demanded their own stories and, who am I to deny them.

Kiss of Death

It's been seven years since Anna Derwent returned home. Seven years away from the father she loved. Seven years she won't get back. As an empath, she expects to be overwhelmed by the wave of emotions following her father's funeral but what she doesn't expect is to inherit, not only his gym, but also his business partner.

Derrick Corel has waited over one hundred years to find the love of his life, never expecting to find her in the form of a diminutive, copper-haired firecracker with a chip on her shoulder.

But Anna longs for a normal life, something he will never be able to provide. He has a past, she wants a future. Their only certainty is death.

 

Excerpt:

 

“Why would you want to invest in a run-down gym when you could just as easily start a better one in competition?”

 

“I had no real interest in owning a gym. I only suggested the partnership in order to help your father. Until I met Jake, I was a bit self-absorbed.”

 

“So, you’re not perfect after all.” Her hand shot to her mouth and her eyes widened. Did I say that out loud?

 

“I don’t ever remember saying I was.” He leaned closer, his cool breath icy against her cheek. “Did you form that opinion yourself?”

 

“You’re changing the subject.”

 

“I thought I was the subject?” he flashed his dimples. “Fine. Ask away.”

 

“It’s my fault Dad had to take on a partner isn’t it? I crippled him financially with the failed wedding reception.”

 

“No. No, I don’t believe that.” He slipped his arm around her shoulders and drew her into his body. “The fitness industry is a fickle business. It was a slow year.”

 

Anna knew she should object to the physical contact, but her body betrayed her, warming to his touch. She leaned her head against his cool chest and took comfort in his arms. “So you don’t think it was my fault?”

 

He kissed her forehead. A small gesture but filled with intimacy. “Just a twist of fate.”

 

“Derrick. Do you think … did he ever say anything to imply that he was disappointed in me?”

 

“Never! Your father loved you more than anything else in the world. He told me so daily in words and actions. Did you know he kissed your photograph every time he entered this room?”

 

“I had no idea.”

 

“I have a confession to make, Anna.”

 

Anna lifted her chin and became lost in his eyes. “Yes, Derrick.”

 

“I was jealous.”

 

“Jealous? Of me or my father?”

 

“Both, I guess.” He lowered his eyes and his eyelashes fluttered a little. The butterflies in her stomach took flight as she listened to his confession. “My own father died when I was only in my early twenties and he had never shown me the sort of affection that Jake had for you.”

 

Anna took a deep breath before asking, “And why were you jealous of him?”

 

“Because he had you in his life. And because—even though it was only a pale imitation of the real thing—the photo was a reminder of your love.”

 

An overwhelming sense of guilt washed over her. She reached up to cup his cheek, gaze into his perfect eyes. “I owe you an apology. I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately. I have been so rude when all you have shown me is understanding and kindness.”

 

“You have nothing to apologize for. You’ve lost a parent,” he reminded her.

 

“Along with my manners.” She added with a shy smile. “But that is about to change. Things will be different from now on.”

 

“For instance?” he leaned back against the sofa, his grip around her shoulders tightening as he twisted a few strands of her hair around his fingers. Her heart missed a beat in reaction to the intimate gesture. She lightly brushed his chest with her fingertips as he kissed the top of her head. She felt safe in his arms. Safe enough to forget her suspicions.

 

“For instance…” Her fingers traced a path from his square jaw to cup his head in her palm, pulling his mouth down to meet hers, “…this.”

 

For the briefest moment, he melted into the kiss but almost as fast, he pulled away.

 

“I wish with all my heart that we could be together Anna but I would only end up hurting you.”

 

“I’m a big girl, Derrick.” She slid her hand inside his shirt and traced his chest with her fingertips, savouring the feeling as his skin reacted with goose flesh. There was no hiding his attraction. His body told her what his words could not. There was no doubt in her mind that he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. “I can look after myself.” She found his nipple and gave it a squeeze between her fingers, watching with delight as he closed his eyes and moaned.

 

“No … you can’t.” he pushed her away and held her at arm’s length. “I am a dangerous man, Anna. I deal with treacherous people every day. You would never be safe.”

 

“Treacherous people. You mean vampires?”

 

“You’re like a dog with a bone aren’t you? You won’t give up on this ridiculous notion?”

 

Anna shook her head. “I have a sixth sense that is screaming at me. You’re a liar, Derrick Corel. The only way you could convince me is if you stay until dawn.”

 

“I can’t do that, Anna.”

 

“Ah-hah. I knew it.”

 

“It’s not because I fear turning to dust or spontaneously combusting if that’s what you think.”

 

“Well, prove me wrong. Stay.”

 

“No.” Derrick rose from the lounge and walked towards the door with Anna close at his heels.

 

“You liar. You’re a vampire and you can’t stay because you fear you’ll burst into flames.”

 

The speed with which Derrick turned almost knocked Anna off her feet. He caught her before she fell—holding her firmly by the shoulders. “I fear you, Anna. I fear the effect you have on me, on my body. I can’t think when I’m in your presence. I can’t sleep without dreaming of you.”

 

He kissed her. Hard. Taking his time as he explored her mouth with his tongue. Anna pressed her body into his, wrapping her arms around his neck. He reached behind his head and grabbed her hands, drawing them together in a prayer position in front of her chest.

 

“But we can’t be together. I can only bring you more suffering.” With that, he flung open the door and disappeared into the night. With a roar of his car’s engine, he was gone.

 

 

 

The Art of Seduction

Meaghan Lamb has a mission. She plans to use her under-cover assignment in the local University to prove, once and for all, that she has what it takes to make a great detective. But when her class is assigned a very hot nude model, her plans turn pear-shaped. As her suspicions about him grow, so does her attraction, but how can she allow herself to fall for a man who could be a cold-blooded killer?

David Corel has seen his paintings come to life in the form of a beautiful, blonde art student who seems unable to look at him without blushing. But, is she really as pure and innocent as she seems or is she the campus killer?

 

Excerpt:

 

“No, no, no.” David protested as he came up behind her and took the brush from her hand. “For a start, this is the wrong brush.” He exchanged the bristle for a sable brush and delicately dabbed it onto the palette. “Think of your brush as a tool.” He said as he put the brush in her hand and held her hand to the canvas. She could feel the hard muscles of his chest on her shoulders as he leaned over her, moving her hand like a marionette. Together they stroked the canvas.

“When you hold the tool, I want you to make slow, seductive movements like this…” he demonstrated downward movements, “the oil makes the paint slide easily, making your brush strokes more fluid.”

It took Meaghan only a few seconds to realize his double entendre. “Control the tool. Move your hand slowly up and down, adding linseed oil when your movements begin to catch. Ah, that’s good.” He pressed against her, his erection rubbing against the small of her back as he continued his play on words. “The tip is very sensitive. Use a featherlike touch for optimum effect. Pay careful attention to the reactions of the canvas. You will sense when to add oil and when you should apply more pressure. That’s very nice. You’re doing well … keep up the pressure … yes, yes … that’s it.” She heard his low, quiet groan and she gasped in response. “As the pressure builds, move faster, faster Meaghan … oh, that feels good doesn’t it.” His voice breathless, ragged as he moved her hand furiously over the canvas.

“Faster … until you can sense that the canvas is at the point where it can take no more, then … add a bit more for good measure.” David stopped abruptly. The painting finished. Meaghan could hardly believe what they had created in such a short amount of time. She stood admiring the work. Her body exhausted as though she had been put through a wringer. Damp heat soaked her dress. She shuddered when David asked her.

“Was that as good for you as it was for me?” 

 

Take Back the Night

Evil comes in many forms

Susie Lister learned this painful lesson the night her blind date sold her out to a vampire in exchange for eternal life. Unable to trust, even her best friend, and afraid of the things that go bump in the night, she fears that love will allude her.

Ex-cop, Terry Palmer has his own issues. Watching the love of his life marry a vampire was bad enough but being telepathically linked with the blood sucker was about as fucked up as you can get.

Two broken souls must learn to put their faith in others while they race to prevent an apocalypse.

They say that time heals all wounds, but time is something they just don’t have.

 

Excerpt:

It was closing time. He wasn’t coming back tonight. By morning, she’d have talked herself out of admitting her attraction to him as she’d done every night since their lunch on the beach. Since she’d realized how much she craved his touch. The empty office darkened her mood but the thought of a new client arriving after hours and keeping her late, seemed worse. She marched over to lock the door and was almost knocked over as Terry strolled through. At least he looked like Terry.

“Sorry I’m so late,” he apologized as he entered the office. “I didn’t realize how long it would take.”

“Your hair,” she gasped as she realized why she’d barely recognized him.

“Do you like it?” he asked with a hint of concern in his voice.

She reached out and ran her fingers through his hair, trying to hide her disappointment. She’d imagined threading her fingers through his soft waves. Now, she’d never have the opportunity.

“Your curls.”

He shrugged and screwed up his face. “I know. They made me look like a dickhead, right?”

She shook her head. “I liked them.” And I like you, she wished she had the confidence to add.

“That sucks,” he groaned. “I should have known better than to take Corel’s advice.”

Susie frowned. “David told you to cut your hair?”

“He suggested a makeover.” He did a slow turn, modelling a new ensemble. “What do you think?”

She snorted, locking the door before returning to her desk. “I think David Corel should mind his own business. The new clothes are very lovely and suit you, but I don’t know why you needed to change your appearance. You were perfect the way you were.” She stopped at the desk, suddenly conscious of her words. Hesitant to face him.

He cleared his throat. “You think I’m perfect?”

Leaning on the desk for support, she took a deep breath and let the words spill out. Words she’d longed to say.

“Maybe not perfect, but I think you’re beautiful. Inside and out.”

“I’ve never been called beautiful before but…”

She felt his hands on her upper arms.

“I’ll answer to anything you call me, honey. Anything at all.”

He turned her to face him and lifted her chin with the finger. The gentleness in his touch almost reduced her to tears.

“I really want to kiss you now,” he told her.

She nodded her approval and he closed the gap between them, tenderly, hesitantly, brushing his lips against hers. She waited for the impulse to pull away. It didn’t come, even when he slipped his tongue inside her mouth, deepening the kiss.

Her hands cradled his head, holding him while his hands glided down the small of her back and further to cup her bottom. She could feel the hem of her skirt lift ever so slightly as his fingers traced her thigh. A shudder shook her body and he instantly pulled his hands away, breaking contact with her lips, stepping away.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to pressure you.” He shook his head. “You have complete control, I promise. We’ll take this as slow as you want.” He slipped a finger inside the collar of his shirt and scratched the skin on his neck. “I won’t lie to you. I want you. I want you so bad it’s killing me, but it’s not only the physical thing. I feel a real connection to you that I don’t want to screw up by rushing you into sex. Give me some encouragement, some kind word that’ll let me know you feel the same and I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait forever.”

She reached up and touched his cheek. Those eyes. Those beautiful, kind, eyes. If eyes really were windows to the soul, Terry was indeed perfect.

“I want you too,” she told him. 

 

And Now You're Mine

Christoff Berg is known as the Enforcer. Other vampires fear him, and his swift justice is legendary. While tracking a diabolical presence, he becomes enamoured by a beautiful gypsy and is convinced that he's under her spell. This time her charms won't work. If she wants to sell her locket, he'll name the price.

From the moment the locket burns her palm, Evangeline senses its power. Time is running out for her mother, and the money she's already made using her telekinesis to scam the rich is not enough for the expensive medical care. The strange medallion may be the answer to her prayers.

A nocturnal visit from an ancient vampire who demands the locket, convinces her that it's worth much more than she'd originally hoped.

Even as they strike a bargain, her past places her in the path of his wrath.

Will he be her saviour or executioner?

 

Excerpt:

“Cut the crap, Chris. There’s more to this locket than you’re telling me.” She dug her fingers into her hips and took a deep breath. “I’m prepared to sell you the locket, for a price.”

His answer surprised her.

“Name it.”

Well, that was easier than I thought. He must be desperate. “No, you start the ball rolling. Make me an offer and we’ll go from there.”

“Ten thousand dollars.”

“Ten thousand?” She heard the catch in her voice and silently berated herself. That was the starting offer? How high would he go?

“Sorry, sweet cheeks.” She raised her hand, palm up and motioned higher. “Keep going.”

His expression remained stoic. “Thirty thousand dollars.”

Her heart beat double-time as she tried to raise the bid. “Fifty thousand. And, a steak dinner.”

He tilted his head to one side and frowned. “You’re still hungry?”

She balled her hand into a fist and tapped it to his forehead. “Tomorrow you bring me fifty thousand cash and take me to one of those fine places you talked about. Then, I’ll give you the amulet.”

He held out his hand, which she accepted. When he refused to let go, she squared her shoulders and looked up at him with her good eye.

“Was there something else?”

“I agree to those terms, but only if you agree to my conditions.”

Her breath hitched. What did he want from her? Blood?

“What conditions?”

He pulled her in closer, his cheek against hers as he whispered into her ear. “I want the same deal as the pawn broker.”

Evangeline gasped as a wave of molten heat travelled down her navel and pooled between her legs. Her breasts felt impossibly heavy. Arousal soaked her panties.

“You want me to—”

“Yes, min dyrebare. You will strip for me, but make no mistake, I am nothing like that loathsome degenerate. Don’t expect me to be satisfied by a glimpse of bosom. I want to see all of you. Every last inch of your flesh. Those are my conditions.”