Bored with getting whatever she wants whenever she
wants it, Wren’s now earning things the mortal way—through hard work…
specifically erotic dancing.
As a newly turned vampire, Roman dreads eternity until
he chances upon Wren at a Las Vegas strip club during her nightly show.
Desire sparks. Lips meet.
Trouble brews from the vamp who turned Roman, and also
from the vile warlock who’s determined to make Wren his…forcing her and Roman
to battle dark magic and blood lust to turn a disturbing future into their
shared paradise.
As they embark on their Vampire Quest.
TEASERS
WREN
My mother thinks I’m nuts. My relatives
avoid me like the plague. Buddies I’ve had since forever have mostly turned
their backs on me.
Why?
Because I’ve chosen the one thing no
self-respecting witch has ever done to my knowledge… I’ve turned my back on
magic.
The bus I’m on lumbers toward my place of
employment, a Las Vegas strip club. I want to try things the mortal way for a
change. However, that doesn’t mean I’m shy. Besides, stripping is one of the
few things I can do without any advanced training, which I never had to take
because I am a witch. Damn, fate really screwed me for the real world.
Bummed, I sag in my seat. Despite my
attire—calling the scant stuff I wear a costume is being generous—no one on
this bus notices my near nudity. Their attention remains glued to their phones,
their gazes vacant.
Except for the bus driver.
He regards me in the rearview mirror then
slowly drags his tongue over his thick lips and grins.
Ew.
I suppress a shudder and give him the
finger instead. If that doesn’t get his eyes back on the road, I’ll twist his
head around until it’s facing me, permanently.
He gets the hint and concentrates on his
driving.
I blow out a relieved breath and make it
to my stop without further incident.
The outside air is balmy, the sky splashed
with glittering stars. Hard bass pumps from inside the club. Ready to boogie, I
grab the handle for the staff entrance but don’t open the door.
For some reason I can’t.
Expectation floods me as it never has. My
skin tingles and my breath catches…as if something exciting and new is going to
happen tonight.
An event that might totally change my
entire existence.
ROMAN
Let’s get something straight from the
get-go. For those mortals seeking eternal youth and a never-ending life, thanks
to Botox, exercise, or selling their souls to Satan—which is fucking hardcore and
stupid—I have one thing to report.
Immortality sucks. Being a vampire blows. Big-time.
I slump in my chair, overwhelmed by an
endless future I never asked for and don’t want. Being a mortal with a sell-by
date on my existence was fine with me, no matter what anyone else prefers. Different
strokes, I say. Despite my liberal attitude toward existence, did I get what I
wanted even though I was minding my own damn business?
Hell no.
I gulp whiskey faster than I ever guzzled
water. Unfortunately, the booze has the same effect on me. Rather than a
pleasant buzz I came to expect as a mortal, I now experience nada, zilch, zero.
Yet I keep drinking, hoping for the best
when only blood will ease my craving.
I
am so screwed.
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