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Book Description: Jack VanAllen has spent his long life following the rules and, as a member of the Vampire Committee, he also enforces them. So, when he awakens in an alley next to an illegally-turned vampire who resembles his late wife, he must prove his innocence or suffer the punishment: death. The problem? He doesn’t remember a thing. Sunshine Petersen’s life as a vampire isn’t getting off to a great start. She’s got no control over her powers, can’t find a job, and sexy Jack is being stand-offish. The only thing she’d like more than catching the creep who turned her is getting Jack into the closest bed. But, could Jack be the one who turned her? When he and Sunny team up to find the culprit, Jack discovers feelings he hasn’t had in years. But once Sunny finds out he’s keeping a major secret, she disappears. Unfortunately, the man who turned her still has plans… |
Jack VanAllen woke and immediately knew something was wrong. Contrary to many myths, vampires never slept, and since becoming one, he’d never passed out.
The cloying scent of wet cardboard and urine heightened his sense of wrongness and he bolted upright. Snow fell off his face and chest. What the hell? Close to six inches covered the ground. How did he end up in a narrow alley beside a dumpster? He searched his memories and came up with…nothing. Blank. Zip. Zilch.
“Shit.”
Whatever that bum drank or snorted had sure done a trick on Jack. Damn Frank for wanting to go out in the first place. So what if it was New Year’s Eve? It wasn’t like he hadn’t celebrated over two hundred of them.
Jack brushed the snow off his hair and gazed upward. Crap. The sky should be inky-black, not medium-blue tinged with pink. He scrambled upright, flinging snow in the process, and checked his watch.
Seven-thirty? The sun would rise in less than fifteen minutes. If he didn’t get his ass in gear, he could very well fry, but where the hell was he?
He sloshed through the snow and stumbled over something solid, landing face first in the fluffy stuff. As he stood and spit out the ice crystals, the lump moaned.
“Frank?” He frantically brushed away the snow, uncovering the back of a hooded, blue coat and long, shapely legs. Well, she was definitely not Frank. And her shoes were missing. Damn, she had to be freezing. He pulled the hood down.
Red hair framed a flawless, creamy-white face.
“Clara?” His heart skipped a beat.
No. Wait. Not Clara. This woman sure looked like his long-dead wife, though. Then it hit him. She’d been at the bar Frank had dragged him to. The reason he’d fed from that bum. So what was she doing out here?
“Miss?” He tapped her face. “Come on, sweetheart. Wake up. I can’t stay out here much longer.”
Her head lolled to one side. No, no, no. This couldn’t be. Two bluish welts stood out on her slender neck, a couple of inches apart. Only venom injected into a human would leave those marks and they couldn’t be hidden.
A vampire had turned her.
Damn it. Jack punched the side of the dumpster. The explosive sound echoed in the alley as the container slid several inches. Why? Was the vampire an idiot? There was no way someone had permission to turn her. As a Committee member, he’d have known about it. And why dump her in an alley as if she were trash? None of it made any sense.
The woman moaned, bringing him back to the present. Time was short. If he didn’t get them to safety before sunrise, they were cooked.
Stacy McKitrick fell in love with paranormal romance, decided to write her own and found her passion in life. She used to work in accounting, now she spends her time with vampires and ghosts. Born in California, she currently resides in Ohio with her husband. They have two grown children. You can find more about her on her website at www.StacyMcKitrick.com.
Stacy McKitrick
Author of the Bitten by Love and Ghostly Encounters series
www.stacymckitrick.com
www.stacysrantings.blogspot.com
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AuthorHard boiled, scrambled, over easy, and sunny side up: eggs are the musings of Holly Bargo, the pseudonym for the author. Follow
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