Archive for 'vampire'
Tuesday, May 14th, 2019
Here’s a snippet from my latest release. Be warned. The story is very erotic, contains scenes with BDSM, and features two female lovers—a witch and a vampire. Enjoy their “first meet”. Elena has no clue that her “target” is about to get the upper hand. I stayed twice in a hotel right next to the Old Absinthe House and knew I had to feature it in a story. I love, love, love it! Remember, you can get a FREE copy here: Amazon
Excerpt from GILDED CAGE
Elena approached Jean Lafitte’s Old Absinthe House from Bienville Street. She skirted the sidewalk, striding in long steps, enjoying the cloying heat, the mingled scents of life and decay, sniffing delicately when she passed a sewer grate, but not minding the odors all that much. Tonight, little would spoil her mood.
The tavern looked good for its age—although not as good as Elena. Not a single wrinkle marred her face. Not that she was mindful of her beauty. She only accepted it as a fact, having come slowly to acceptance, acknowledging her beauty not as a gift or a curse.
She dressed simply. Straight-legged blue jeans, a black tank, and black military boots. A man’s black-banded watch sat on her left wrist. Her hair was pulled tightly into a ponytail at the back of her head. Her only concession to her femininity were the large white-gold hoops she wore in her ears, and only because she liked the way they bumped against her cheeks.
Still, as severe as she knew she’d dressed, Elena drew attention. She had a model’s long, lithe frame and moved as fluidly as a cat. Again, facts about which she was aware of but not overly self-impressed.
She’d reached the point in her long life where little mattered. Not friendships, because they were fleeting. Not money, because it could be gone in a single day—something she’d faced twice now in her lifetime. Little interested her. She’d seen most of the world. Done everything. Her only constant was the hunger that drove her even now when she was wishing she could ignore it just a while longer.
The other constant was Angela. And she was meeting her tonight for the first time in ten years.
Her stomach growled loudly, and Elena growled right back, alarming a musician carrying a guitar case so much so that he stepped onto the street to make a wide arc around her.
Something in his keen eyes said he knew what she was. What she must do. And soon. She toyed with the idea of stalking him, making him her supper. That might amuse her, but she’d have annoying regrets later because she no longer wished to prey on the innocent.
Besides, he’d looked to be in the flush of good health, smelled of broccoli and legumes. His sweat was fresh, pure. She wrinkled her nose because she preferred blood flavored with sin even when she wasn’t being noble. Or at least, trying very hard to be.
Her secret wish, the one she’d shared only with a priest before she’d ripped out his throat, was that she would ascend to heaven after a very long stay in purgatory. Something the priest had said was impossible due to the horrendous list of sins she’d confessed.
No matter that she’d been forced into this undead life. The moment she’d opened her mouth and accepted Angela’s blood, she’d forever outlawed her soul.
At least, she’d have good company.
Her phone chirped, and she slipped it from her back pocket and swiped across the screen.
Am here. Where r u?
Elena grinned and tapped the button on the side to close the phone. She was so close she didn’t bother responding.
She approached the doors to the Absinthe House, smelled the citrusy, medicinal scent of the absinthe they served and the burnt sugar they lit atop the drink the house was named for. The odors of sweat and perfume, fresh alcohol from opened bottles, and stale liquor oozing from the pores of patrons, kicked up her heart beats. She dragged in the smells, discovered one intriguing aroma among the snarled pack, and homed in on it—lush, sweet musk. Feminine. Dark.
The sense she’d honed over time found the sinner. Her gaze tracked over the tables and the people seated at the bar, landing at last on a woman whose unblinking eyes stared right back.
Angela could wait. This one was too delicious to pass up. The woman’s hair was a mass of shiny corkscrew curls, which tumbled past her shoulders in shades of dark brown, blond and red. Her skin tone was a milky latte. Her eyes were golden and tilted upward at the outside corners, long, thick lashes sweeping downward to cast shadows against glowing cheeks, before rising again so that their glances locked.
The vixen’s mouth sent a thrill through Elena’s body, cinching her nipples, hardening her clit. Her hips swayed a little deeper as she approached. Draga, esti mina. You’re mine.
The woman’s head canted slightly, as though she had heard her, which surprised Elena. Most humans couldn’t hear the suggestions although they acted upon them, thinking they’d formed the thought themselves. Perhaps she was a sensitive, one with psychic gifts. There were many in this city.
Elena stopped beside the table. “Are you expecting anyone?”
A glance flitted over Elena’s slim frame. “I think I’ve been waiting for you.” Her voice oozed like caramelized sugar onto Elena’s skin.
Satisfaction shivered through Elena as she sat in the empty chair opposite the woman and let her own gaze trail lower. Her heart fluttered at the sight of the temptress’s breasts—nipples like dark moons, shadowing her gold tank, the tips protruding, lengthening as Elena stared.
Elena’s mouth watered; her tongue scraped the edge of an eyetooth, drawing blood. Her belly growled again, but the music and sounds of conversations flowing around them masked the insistent sound.
The dark-skinned woman lifted a hand from her lap, one long, slender finger beckoning a waitress. “Would you like a drink?”
“Perhaps, later.” Elena smiled, dipping her eyelids as she gave the sultry beauty a look that said without words what she hungered for.
A slight, feline smile curved the corners of her generous mouth. “Then we’ll leave. My apartment’s not far.”
Monday, May 13th, 2019
I have something dark and sexy for you—if you’re not persnickety about a f/f romance. However, if you love something dark (it involves the Blood Countess, Elizabeth Bathory!), which depicts a witch and a vampire in a life and death battle for dominance, and takes place in New Orleans, you’ll love this. It’s intensely erotic with BDSM elements. So, be warned!
This is a story that was previously released through Ellora’s Cave but has been significantly revised. And there’s more in the series to come. It’s only 12,000 words, so not terribly long. I hope you’ll give it a try. And best yet? If you have Kindle Unlimited, you can read it for FREE!
A f/f paranormal novelette…
Since her turning, Elena Csintalan has wrestled her inner demon on a nightly basis. She never expects her limits to be tested—until she finds herself drawn to a tawny woman whose lush curves make her eyeteeth spike. Before she knows it, she’s dangling inside an iron cage, one that’s frighteningly familiar. And the punishment she endures is oh so divine…
Despite a surprising empathy she feels for the vampire she’s captured, Cassia proceeds with her coven’s plan—drain Elena of her blood at the height of orgasm to complete a potion that will protect them from Elena’s maker. Cassia scried the darkness coming their way, and the monster has a name…the Countess Elizabeth Bathory.
Get your copy here!
Saturday, March 23rd, 2019
I’ve been writing for a while. I have numerous series, standalone titles, and short stories. If you’ve never read or barely read me, I can keep you busy for a while! 🙂
One of my first series, that’s still ongoing, is my Night Fall series. It’s near and dear to my heart. And there are 14 stories in the series, so far. One of my favorites centers around a badass vampire readers met when he wasn’t acting villain-y early in the series. Of course, he had reasons to be grumpy and dark. You’ll meet his reason in the excerpt below. And there will be more stories. So, dive in. None of them are terribly long. You can consume them like candy. I dare you to give them a try…
Comment for a chance to win your choice of download from among the stories shown below! I’ll pick three winners!
Click on the covers to learn more about the stories!
Bad to the Bone
One night of pleasure…
His name is Viper—a dark mysterious enigma who rules the seedy, dangerous vampiric underworld. For one night, he will escape his murky prison and tempt an innocent.
…can last a lifetime…
Beautiful Mariah haunts him. Lures him from his den with a glimpse of his past. One she doesn’t remember. This night, he’ll be her dream lover. He’ll seduce her, make her fall in love with him—then leave her. Again.
One night of pleasure is all they must know.
But Viper leaves her a clue. One he hopes deep down will lead her back to him although he dreads the consequences, because he’s not the same man he was. He’s not a man at all…
One week ago…
Slim hips swished beneath a short, flirty skirt, drawing his gaze like iron filings to a magnet. The splash of large pink flowers on white stood out like a beacon in the darkness. Beneath the hem stretched a pair of nude legs, toned, and nicely curved at the ankles. Perfectly made to lightly clasp a man’s waist as he slid into moist heat…
He suppressed a low, rumbling growl from the beast rising inside. Something he rarely bothered to do in the squalid dens he roamed most nights. The creature lurking deep within was a sexual animal, a lustful, ravenous host who found partners only too willing to let him feast. But this woman was different. Her soul was pure. Her mind unawakened to the darkness.
He followed her as she left her apartment, sticking to the shadows, ducking into stairwells when she looked behind her as though checking whether someone followed. A frown marred her smooth brow, and her lips tightened. The clip of her heels on the pavement quickened.
Shoulder-length, flyaway brown hair bobbed across the tops of slender shoulders. The creamy skin of her exposed arms and legs swung in a rhythm that his heart picked up and matched, beat for stride.
Feeling more than ever like the true predator he was, he tamped down the shame that burned like battery acid in his stomach and continued stalking the woman who walked more briskly now along the darkened sidewalk.
When she turned onto a crowded walkway, her shoulders sank and her footsteps slowed as she relaxed.
Now, as she mingled with others strolling along the promenade, she believed herself safe. Little did she know, but her “spontaneous” decision to leave her apartment had been at his suggestion—a message telegraphed with tantalizing snippets of the smell of fresh salt air, the caress of a soft breeze, and a glimpse of sensual pleasure.
She hadn’t heeded her own natural inhibition. Hadn’t paused to check the clock and note the waning evening hours. Instead, she’d made her decision, wriggled into a sexy little skirt and snug pink tee, slid her feet into strapless sandals and bounded down the stairs, ready to kick off winter’s gloom in an unseasonably warm spring night.
He’d made sure she didn’t glance even once at the calendar resting on the bureau in her foyer. Nothing would trigger a fleeting memory. And while he’d provided himself the opportunity to see her, he’d decided days ago he wouldn’t use his persuasive gifts to bring her straight into his arms.
Tonight, he wanted to savor a natural seduction.
She paused along the gangway that followed the curving street through a long, outdoor strip mall. At the bottom of one set of stairs leading into a seafood restaurant, she lifted one foot, planting it on the first paved step.
As he drew back the suggestion that had led her here, her brow furrowed, and she shook her head. Her foot slipped off the step and slowly settled beside the other.
In a blur of movement no human would detect, he slid in behind her. “Did you forget something?” he murmured, careful to keep his tone innocently inquiring.
A gasp escaped, and her head jerked to the side then tilted up to meet his gaze. Her eyes widened, and then slid over his shoulders before rising again. “You frightened me.”
Read the rest of this entry »
Tuesday, August 28th, 2018
UPDATE: The winners are…Colleen, Elysian, and Buttons!
The Night Fall series was one of my first. I still love it, and I try to add to the series every now and then, because I can’t let that world go. I wrote the first story in 2003 or 2004, and I added Big Bad Wolf last year. I’ve had fun writing them. The stories are filled with danger, plenty of sexy encounters, and humor. One of the funniest, I think, is Frannie and The Private Dick. The title came first, and the adventure spun out from there…
For a chance to win your choice from among the Night Fall stories,
answer me this…
Is there a paranormal show on TV that you adore, past or present?
Click on the covers to learn more!
Frannie and The Private Dick
Bent on catching her cheating fiancé in the act, Frannie Valentine got sidetracked by a little thing like dying. When she awakens, Frannie learns her pampered life will never be the same, so she turns to the man responsible for her undeadness and demands he take on the responsibility of giving her a little job training—in the PI biz.
Niall Keegan never intended to make himself a mate, but Frannie’s string of minor disasters, which ended with her dying in his arms, took the decision right out of his hands. While the mating part isn’t bad, making the disaster-prone Frannie a PI may just be the death of him.
Excerpt from Frannie and The Private Dick…
Francesca Valentine had died and gone to hell. No other explanation made sense. She swam back to awareness through a molasses-thick void to find herself suddenly spat out from a dark womb into a cold, hollow space. Blind, and so still she knew she didn’t breathe, her mind turned over like a sluggish engine before revving into high gear.
Quickly, she assessed what she knew. She lay on a hard surface, covered with a scratchy square of thin fabric, unable to move a muscle. A low whine, like that of an air-conditioner, came from the opposite side of the space. Harsh light shone from above, warming her face, but hurting her closed eyes. So, she probably wasn’t blind after all. But she was definitely dead. Stone-cold. Her chest wasn’t moving in and out, but she didn’t feel starved for air.
She knew who she was and what had killed her, but hadn’t a clue what new fix she’d landed herself in. From nearby came the scrape of footsteps and a tentative humming, then…
“Bee-ooot-ee-foll Dreeeeamer, wake unto me…”
She was in hell all right. A demented spirit hovered over her, emitting an off-key warbling that set Frannie’s teeth on edge. By the rusty sound of the grating voice, her tormentor must be an ancient female, and the she-devil was trying to remove the skin from her face in slow, abrasive circles with…apricot-scented facial scrub? Frannie’d had a chemical peel the week before. The last thing she needed was a dime store product applied to her professionally maintained skin. Read the rest of this entry »
Tuesday, July 3rd, 2018
UPDATE: The winner is…Susan Landowski!
All the Kindle Worlds are gone. 🙁 As a result, I’m repurposing stories that lived in other authors’ worlds and getting ready to republish them. One story I can never repurpose, because it’s solidly locked inside another world, is a piece of fan fiction I wrote for The Vampire Diaries. I was invited to write a story for the world, and Amazon even mailed me the first four seasons of the show (the only seasons available at the time) for me to immerse myself in the Diaries. Unbelievably, I’d never watched the show. I binge-watched with my dd and her husband, and then had to dream up a story that could have happened—like an episode of the show.
Since I can never repurpose this enough to sell and not run into copyright issues, I’ll be giving this one away to my newsletter subscribers. So, if you aren’t already a subscriber, here’s the link: Delilah’s Newsletter.
My original story had an uninspiring title—Making Amends. It centers around Damon and a creature he encounters. Read the excerpt, then try to think of something better than what I had. I thought maybe, Woman on Fire, but yuk. Offer a suggestion—good or bad, it’ll still count!—and you could win a $5 Amazon gift card!
Damon knew something was afoot the moment the door closed behind him. The usual soft snick of the lock was replaced by a dull, echoing thud. Instantly all senses went on alert.
Tilting his head, he concentrated, listening to the sounds of the old boarding house, dismissing the usual creaks and groans, and then narrowing his focus to anything living—anything with a heartbeat. No sounds alerted him. He raised his head and sniffed, but beyond dust and the odor from an open whiskey decanter, he detected nothing. And yet, the hairs on the back of his neck rose.
Never one to ignore his instincts, he let the change come over him, his fangs descending from his gums, and his face and body tightening as he allowed his bloodlust to overtake him, giving him added strength to greet whatever might be lurking in the evening shadows.
An amused snort sounded beside him, and he shot a glance toward the sound. Nothing.
Although he’d relish a fight, the speed at which this mysterious creature apparently moved removed that option. Better to know his foe before engaging in a battle…
He shook his head, retracting his teeth, his thoughts racing, but only in anticipation of a challenge. Not from fear. For him to fear, he had to give a damn about his un-life. He stepped deeper into the house. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he sang softly and narrowed his eyes.
A soft caress, lighter than a stir of air, touched his shoulder. A thin giggle sounded, high-pitched, young, moving from behind him, then retreating toward the large open living room. Logs shifted on the fireplace, then burst into flames, and for the first time, Damon saw the outline of something, a translucent echo of an image, as it shimmered in front of the fire, and then moved fluidly and quickly away, disappearing against the gloomy paneled walls and heavy furnishings. Legs, a torso, but beyond that it had moved too quickly, and oddly meltingly, for him to discern more of its shape.
“You are female,” he drawled, pretending unconcern, when he knew whatever had joined him in the house wasn’t benevolent. Just a hunch, but he knew.
“Am I?” came a voice, hoarse and deep, whispering into his ear.
Damon held still. He hadn’t felt a gust of breath, so whatever was here in this room wasn’t living, wasn’t breathing, since he’d felt no glint of recognition—not a vampire using some sort of glamour to mask his or her presence. Also unlike any ghosts he had encountered, which tended to appear as their former selves. What the hell was it? “You are…male, then?”
“What would be the point of that?” came a breathier whisper.
Damon quirked up one side of his mouth. “Do I know you?”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Did I know you?”
Breathless laughter rang around him, from just in front of him and then to the fireplace where flames licked outwardly before bouncing back as the tinkling laughter faded, nearing him again.
Damon felt almost dizzy from the frenetic movements of the entity. “Maybe I should leave you to your amusements, since I’m tired of this game.”
“Not a game, not a game,” came a singsong voice, still androgynously husky.
But decidedly female since he was intrigued. Damon drew a deep breath and strode toward the sideboard to pour a drink. No movements or sounds intruded, so he took a seat on a leather couch and drank, breathing in the sublime scent of 50-year-old whiskey while he pondered this latest mystery.
“Female, maybe,” he said softly. “Not human. Not vampire. . . .” He raised his voice slightly. “Not ghost.”
“Clever, clever.” The seat beside him sank, the indention pointed rather than a smooth curve like a round bottom sitting.
He stared at that point. “Won’t you introduce yourself?”
The point slid toward him, a faint groove marking the dark leather, until it skipped to his thigh. Damon felt the sharpness, like the dull side of a knife’s blade as it skimmed one thigh, then trailed upward, jumping to the arm holding the drink, up to his shoulder, then across his face to his mouth. There was sizzling heat in the scrape.
Instinctively, he gasped, then quickly pressed his lips together to keep whatever was touching him from entering. He arched a brow, not wanting the creature to see his unease.
The point scratched his bottom lip, drawing blood, and then left. The shimmer touched the fire in the hearth and crouched there, holding still for the first time while its form continued to glint red, orange, white, and blue, until it slowly solidified, colors dulling, but its form revealing its true nature.
Damon held perfectly still, his drink dangling from frozen fingers as he tried to gather his scattered wits. Cold spilled down his spine.
Although her appearance was strangely altered, he recognized her. How could he not? He’d killed hundreds of women, maybe thousands, but who was counting? Too many to remember all their faces. But he’d never forgotten his first meal. The one who’d made him a vampire.
Saturday, June 16th, 2018
I’ve been writing for a while. I have numerous series, standalone titles, and short stories. If you’ve never read or barely read me, I can keep you busy for a while! 🙂
One of my first series, that’s still ongoing, is my Night Fall series. It’s near and dear to my heart. And there are 14 stories in the series, so far. The last title I released was Big Bad Wolf, which I adored. What wasn’t to love? A rugged, backwoods wolf with no love for vampires. A vampire with every reason to hate wolves… Of course, they had to fall in love. And there will be more stories. So, dive in. None of them are terribly long. You can consume them like candy. I dare you to give them a try…
Comment for a chance to win your choice of download from among the stories shown below! I’ll pick three winners!
Click on the covers to learn more about the stories!
Big Bad Wolf
Ginnie Martin is a badass. She was born that way one horror-filled night. Forged in blood—her own and her family’s. All were ravaged by savage beasts. Her vampire savior recruited her to fight with his small army against the creatures responsible for her devastating loss. But now, he’s asking too damn much. He wants her to open her home to new allies who, until only recently, were their fiercest foes. Wolves.
Calum Fletcher already bristles against providing muscle to a vampire force. Content living in his remote mountain cabin, he’s never been much for mixing with other wolves, much less making nice with vampires. He was already having a hard time dealing, but the woman letting him bunk in her home wears an even larger chip on her shoulder. Quickly, his new favorite sport is goading her into losing her temper—because everyone knows a vampire’s bloodlust leads to very sexy places…
Read an excerpt…
The moment Calum Fletcher stepped into The Cavern, his body quickened. The heavy thud of his heart pounded at his temples. His skin prickled. Above the scent of booze and sex, he noted the musty, metallic odor of blood, and his stomach churned. Every instinct shouted danger.
Striding past the brawny, dull bouncer at the door, he kept moving, needing to draw calm around him before his nature was revealed. Although the vampires had been warned of his pack’s arrival in Seattle, he preferred to cloak himself in humanskin, free of wolf scent. The better to study the enemies he’d now be aligning with in war.
Dance music beat against his body. Bright, strobing lights pierced his eyes. Turning from the dance floor, he moved toward the bar, ignoring the activities of the patrons—the feasting, the fucking. Everywhere, except at the bar, an orgy of bloodlust and sexual excess was in progress.
The blonde behind the bar gave him quick, assessing glance. Her green eyes narrowed. “Can I get you a drink?” she asked, all the while continuing to watch him as though she expected trouble.
He shook his head, wanting to look away, but he was studying her as well. The blonde, uneven cut that barely reached to her chin looked wind-tousled. Her pale unpainted cheeks were as smooth as porcelain. Her mouth was bowed but held in a tight, firm line. Below, her figure was lean and muscled with only a slight flare of hips and a meager bosom.
And then he viewed her clothing—a black, form-fitting tank and faded blue jeans with ragged holes over both knees, stuffed into square-toed black boots. Harsh, dark. Echoing the look in the eyes.
Vampire, he concluded. Had she already guessed his true nature?
She placed the beer on a cardboard coaster in front of him. “Haven’t seen you here before,” she said, her voice soft, but with a hint of an edge.
“I’m from out of town.” Out of state, actually, but he didn’t elaborate.
“How did you find this place?”
He gave a shrug then met her gaze, locking with it. “I was walking along the docks. Heard the music.”
She frowned. “And once you came inside…?”
Her tone clued him she was angling to hear what he thought of what was going on. A human who ventured inside by accident should be shocked. So, she hadn’t made him.
He held still. Barely breathed. If she knew he wasn’t a willing “host,” someone who understood the rules of the blood exchange, what would she do? His curiosity was piqued by her deepening frown and downturned mouth. Was she considering giving him a “friendly” warning?
Calum broke with her gaze and glanced at the dance floor. Most pairs danced, bodies moving in a wild fervor. A few barely swayed while hosts’ necks bent and vamps’ mouths worked, teeth and tongues biting and licking. He barely repressed a shudder. Worse, his gums tingled. When he turned back, he didn’t bother hiding a frown.
She reached out a hand and cupped the back of his wrapped around the beer. “Are you curious?” she asked, her voice thicker than before and lisping.
Curious about her, yes. Which should have alarmed him. But she wasn’t flirting and wasn’t attempting to use her vampire’s tricks to seduce him. Her gaze was direct. A straightforward challenge.
And although he wasn’t there to play, he did have time to satisfy his curiosity. The rest of his pack would be arriving soon enough. He’d pushed ahead of the convoy while they’d stopped for a meal. He gave a slight nod.
Her chest rose, and she lifted a hand to signal to a waitress, who made her way behind the far end of the long wooden bar. Then the blonde lifted the hinged, vertical opening in the bar and stepped through to join him.
Standing next to him, she had to raise her head to meet his gaze, something that appeared to irritate her, because a frown dug a line between her brows. “Bring your beer.” She stepped past him, skirting the dance floor and moving toward a row of leather-upholstered booths at the opposite side of the room, lit only by candles set in decorative glass bowls.
He followed, beer in hand, then slid into the booth she indicated.
Rather than taking a seat opposite him, she slid in beside him and turned, raising one knee to the seat. Her gaze went to his beard then trailed over his chest and below, before slowly rising again to his face. “I’m Ginnie,” she said, her voice huskier than before.
He noted the sharpened tips of her corner canines, peeking from beneath her upper lip. “Calum,” he said, his own voice deepening. His breathing was coming faster, sitting this close to her, drinking in her sweet-almond scent, which should have acted like repellent. But almond blended with a slight hint of vanilla and her feminine musk, and now moisture gathered in his mouth. He wanted a taste.
His mouth twitched and, inside, he laughed at himself for his attraction. How long had passed since he’d fucked a woman? Now, he wished he’d come better prepared. Vampires were naturally sensual creatures. That was all this lust was. He was growing aroused because she was what she was, and he’d been without for far too long.
Sunday, April 8th, 2018
Book One in the Vampire Island Series
Over 60,000 words
By Jo Grafford
** It will premiere in the Mystic Realms Box Set on April 10, 2018 **
** Available for pre-order sale of 99 cents at Amazon: http://a.co/dNku1oA **
A few months before her eighteenth birthday, Grace Livingston’s tragic world collides with vampire Stellan Romolov’s dark one.
Until then, she’s suffered more than any teenager deserves to suffer. Shouldering the loss of a parent, practically raising herself, keeping honor roll grades, and applying for a coveted dance scholarship has left precious little time for a social life. After one earth-shaking dance with Stellan, though, she realizes every step in her broken journey has led her to this moment — and him.
It’s an instant and explosive attraction.
She soon discovers the super hot and super sexy Stellan is far more than he seems. He sails ships and flies airplanes. He’s also the billionaire owner and chief surgeon of an all-new medical resort on a private island: On a mission to save humanity by healing one broken or badly burned body at a time.
Neither of them realizes their encounter has awakened a curse set in motion more than a century before, and every moment they spend together puts everyone they love in danger.
“You kept your word, Mr. Livingston. My pilot will return you to the mainland.” Stellan’s baritone voice washed over me, as crisp as the creases ironed into his black trousers. Up close, I deemed them a fine quality of silk, and the white gold watch that flashed at his wrist was no department store bargain. The Stellan I had known before was not so richly dressed. Nor so polished and sure of himself. Nor so bleak. Or so cold.
But those eyes! The deep blue was startlingly reminiscent of the other Stellan I knew so many years ago. His gaze had held secrets then, mystery and longing. They were aged now, darker, more jaded. I shivered. It was like staring into the eyes of an older, angrier ghost. The tenor and cadence of his voice was familiar, too. Every word he spoke revived the exhilarating happiness and excruciating pain of timeworn memories. Completely unnerved by the encounter, I fought to regain the power of speech.
“Is it…really…you?” My hand slid from my throat to cup my mouth. Frantic hope warred with the impossibility of what my eyes beheld. I couldn’t bear the misery of waking from such a desperately real dream. God, help me! I wanted it to be real. I wanted it so bad I could feel old scabs tearing off. Stitches long since hemmed together ripping open anew, fresh blood gushing from what remained of my heart. I was breaking on the inside, shattering… “I thought you were dead.” The last word came out as a hoarse whisper. “How—”
“Grace!” He leaped toward me as my legs gave out.
My father’s arms tightened around me, but another set of arms wrested me away from him. They lifted me against an impressively ripped chest. Arms that at once felt breathtakingly familiar, ones I never thought to feel around me again.
My forehead dropped against a massive shoulder. I felt feverish and strange.
“I warned you,” Bax’s voice was fierce. “It’s too much too soon. I swore to you she didn’t know.”
What didn’t I know? My first husband is still alive? How long had Bax known? I wanted to scream and weep at the unfairness of it all, but I was too weak to lift my head.
“I will ask my own questions now.”
“Where are you taking her?” my father demanded.
“None of your damn business.”
“The hell it isn’t. She’s my daughter.”
“She’s my wife.”
“You have no right to haul her off like some—”
“I have every right. She is mine.”
Mine. Amazing how a single word could pack so much meaning, so much finality. Stellan, rising from the dead to claim me. It was preposterous. It was wildly amazing. It was a kaleidoscope of light and color completely consuming me. The voices faded, and my world skidded across memory lane.
ABOUT JO GRAFFORD
Jo Grafford is a lover of all things historical, romance, mystery, paranormal, fantasy, and action. She adores alpha males, strong-minded women, humorous sidekicks, diversity, vampires, Vikings, dashing lords, zombies, cyborgs…you get the idea.
She loves to stay in touch with readers on Facebook, Twitter, BookBub, and Instagram. Plus you can read free chapters of many of her books on Wattpad.
Sign up to Jo’s New Release email list and you’ll automatically be notified as soon as her next book is released: www.JoGrafford.com/More-Jo-Books. Check out her website: www.JoGrafford.com.
DR. MAGIC WILL DEBUT IN THE MYSTIC REALMS BOX SET
A Limited Edition Collection of Paranormal & Urban Fantasy Romances
What goes bump in the night? What causes you a fright?
While the answers for each may vary, I promise that these stories will not leave you wary.
From vampires and demons to shifters and creatures that you’d never suspect, this set will leave you breathless in the best possible ways.
So, don’t be afraid. Come, step inside our realm. Allow the mysticism of romance in many shapes and forms fall over you like a veil of sweet, soothing, spine tingling comfort.
We promise… you won’t be sorry.
Secrets of the Hollows (Book 2) by Nicole Morgan
What’s a girl to do once she falls in love with a demon?
Fallen by Tamsin Baker
Gabriel thought he’d do anything to earn his way back into Heaven. He was wrong.
Cursed by Tracy Goodwin
Forbidden love. Dangerous prophecies. Limitless power. Fate is a witch.
Avenging Aingeal (Protectors of the Earth 1) by Lynn Crain
Bound by vengeance, she is humanity’s one hope…
Her Fate, His Mate (Wolves of Windsor Woods) by Krista Ames Author
Can she accept all he is and all he stands for?
Sleeping in the Dragon’s Den by Lexi Thorne
His Hungry Dragon
My Curious Desire
His Tattoo Curse
My Wet Dreams
Dark Side of the Moon by Laura Baumbach
Vampire rentboy vs. the world.
Angel Vindicated by Viola Estrella
Some sins are hard to avoid…
A Wolf’s Touch by Christine Duncan Donovan
Can she love him–wolf and all?
Dr. Magic (Vampire Island, Book 1) by Jo Grafford
One more dance with the devil…
Dark Heat by Jan Springer
Betrayed by her two forced mates, she hides within Vampira.
Torkel by Mardi Maxwell
Love unites them in the mists of time.
Silent Storm by Sadie Carter
Sometimes the monster is the good guy…
Tangled Sin by Georgia Lyn Hunter
She was the light in his eternal darkness…
Seduction’s Scent by C.I. Black
Giving in to temptation threatens everything.
Ghost Mate by D. Anne Paris
She was going to kill him even though he was already dead.
Living on the Edge (Clan Book 1) by Laverne Thompson
Mate wanted. Dead or alive.
The Warrior’s Curse by M. Elliott & T. Eden
What comes next may be the end of it all.
Three Days From Hell by Dariel Raye
Can a permanent resident of Third Hell be trusted?
Just Tell Me What You Want by Tina Donahue
Her wishes will leave him breathless…