Authors: Sierra Dean
Because of me he’d been locked away for over a year, starved and cuffed in silver. The council had determined his punishment needed an end date, so we’d locked his door with Brigit’s blood. Now that Brigit was dead…
“The door is open,” I said at last.
“Yes. Alexandre is free,” Sig replied.
“And still within the council?” I asked hopefully.
“You believe I’d be here if you were so lucky?”
“He’s…”
“Yes.” He crossed his arms and frowned, showing more emotion than I was used to seeing from him. “Peyton is gone.”
About the Author
Sierra Dean is a reformed historian. She was born and raised in the Canadian prairies and is allowed annual exit visas in order to continue her quest of steadily conquering the world one city at a time. Making the best of the cold Canadian winters, Sierra indulges in her less global interests: drinking too much tea and writing urban fantasy.
Ever since she was a young girl she has loved the idea of the supernatural coexisting with the mundane. As an adult, however, the idea evolved from the notion of fairies in flower beds, to imagining that the rugged-looking guy at the garage might secretly be a werewolf. She has used her overactive imagination to create her own version of the world, where vampire, werewolves, fairies, gods and monsters all walk among us, and she’ll continue to travel as much as possible until she finds it for real.
Sierra can be reached all over the place, as she’s a little addicted to social networking. Find her on:
Facebook:
www.facebook.com/sierradeanbooks
Website:
www.sierradean.com
E-mail:
[email protected]
Twitter:
@sierradean
Look for these titles by Sierra Dean
Now Available:
Secret McQueen
Something Secret This Way Comes
The Secret Guide to Dating Monsters
A Bloody Good Secret
Secret Santa
Deep Dark Secret
Keeping Secret
A Low Down Dirty Shane
Coming Soon:
Secret McQueen
Secret Unleashed
Cold Hard Secret
A Secret to Die For
Thick-skinned vampire assassin meets smart-mouthed druid archer. Run, Cupid, run.
A Low Down Dirty Shane
© 2012 Sierra Dean
Shane Hewitt has been many things—failed husband, supernatural punching bag, and now a bitch to the vampire council of New York City. He thought killing rogue vampires was the hardest thing he’d ever do. Until a hot redhead smashes into him, shouts orders and announces she’s saving his life.
The sole female warrior in a family of druids, Siobhan O’Malley knows how to take care of herself and protect the big city from beasties who breach gateways from the fae realm. The last thing she needs is a misguided, leather-clad hottie’s help to get the job done.
Except maybe he’s exactly what she needs. Siobhan is expected to be a willing,
virginal
sacrifice on her twenty-fifth birthday. Sex with Shane to stay alive? If he can pull his foot out of his mouth long enough and stop driving her crazy, no problem.
Now if only the bad guys would leave them alone long enough to get the deed done.
Warning:
Contains a wee red-headed archer with deadly aim; a leather-jacket-wearing vampire hunter with a habit for saying all the wrong things; and a life-saving ritual that will leave them both panting.
Enjoy the following excerpt for
A Low Down Dirty Shane:
The next thing Shane knew he was throwing up on the sidewalk.
“Idiot,” Siobhan said, but she was laughing as she said it. “You’re lucky we didn’t end up trading tongues in the transport.”
“
Hurrruffff
,” Shane replied, seeing his SpaghettiOs dinner for the second time that night.
She gave him a gentle kick in the ribs. As gentle as a kick in the ribs could be, anyway.
“Get up, you great big pussy.”
Shane clambered to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and leveling her a hard glare. “A warning would have been nice.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. You were too busy sexually assaulting me for me to get around to an in-flight safety demonstration.”
“I’m starting to think your family had the right idea wanting to sacrifice you.”
They stared at each other. She broke first, showing a half smile in spite of her best efforts to remain stony. “Yeah, well. You fucked that up. In a manner of speaking.”
Shane snorted. “Where have you taken us, you crazy woman?” He tried for nasty, but his tone made it sound endearing. He was failing on every level, and this chick was turning him into a big old softhearted mess. This was terrible.
“We’re near the gateway. It’s over there.” She pointed.
To a Bath & Body Works.
“Are you shitting me?” He stared at her, doubting her sanity. Certainly she was playing a trick on him. Some sort of druid hazing ritual. “You’ve
got
to be shitting me.”
“Sir, I shit you not.”
“I think I hate you.”
Siobhan smirked. “It’s not actually the store. The store is just an entry point.” She took his hand and dragged him towards the building.
“Am I going to throw up again?”
“Probably not.”
“You don’t sound too sure.”
“I’m not.”
“That’s comforting,” Shane said with a groan.
“Hey, if you want comfort, get a Snuggie.
Sweetheart
.” She opened the door, and before he could protest she yanked him through.
Instead of being bombarded with the smell of fruit-scented candles and hand sanitizers, Shane walked headlong into a peach-colored fog. His hand tightened on Siobhan’s reflexively, and she squeezed back, passing assurances without words.
The air was warm and glittery, the sparkly haze made him uneasy, but the heat comforted him and cast a drowsy spell over his senses, subduing the edge of worry. The atmosphere itself was lulling him into a false sense of security.
Shane blinked a few times, trying to get his bearings, but as soon as he thought he understood the weird pastel environment, it had vanished. What was on the other side wasn’t soothing at all and gave him no illusions of comfort and safety.
They were on the edge of a circle of elder trees, standing between two of the big trunks and looking into a clearing in the middle where a large stone slab was mounted on two smaller slabs. A group of men in thick black cloaks was struggling with a slender, tall blonde who could have been a Sears catalog model if not for her librarian-style glasses. What was with all the hot virgins? If all the so-called pure girls looked like this virgin sacrifice and Siobhan, Shane would have to reconsider his stance on deflowering them. For the sake of humanity, of course.
“Let me
go
, you freaks.” She wrested one hand free and landed a punch squarely inside the hood of the man nearest her. For such a skinny thing, she had a
lot
of fight in her.
Shane was guessing girls in New York were a lot tougher now than they’d been the last time these guys had tried to sacrifice one. Unfortunately for this spitfire she was outnumbered, and their surprise at her fervor was short-lived. It didn’t matter how tough you were, getting coldcocked over the back of the head with a stone knife hilt was going to knock you out. The girl went limp and was positioned on the large gray slab.
The men set about ripping her clothes off, tossing her jeans and sweater to the ground. Shane couldn’t watch anymore.
“Hey, Red. Got any bright ideas here? Otherwise I’m just going to start shooting them all.”
“You can’t.” Siobhan shook her head, but her gaze was focused raptly on the scene before them.
“I have two guns here saying I can.”
“No, you don’t get it.” She directed his attention to a white ring around the ceremony site. “They’ve already sealed themselves in.” To prove her point she threw a twig at the clearing. The branch bounced off an invisible barrier and came flying back towards them while a wave of energy shimmered in the wake of the assault. “Now imagine what would happen with a bullet.”
Shane whistled.
“So what’s our plan of action here?”
Siobhan looked at him and bit her lower lip. “How much blood are you willing to let me have?”
As far as weird requests went, Siobhan knew this would probably stand out as a memorable one for Shane.
“My…blood?” he asked, his voice quavering. “What are you going to do with my blood?”
“They’re inside an unbreakable circle,” she said.
“And?”
“That circle is directly on top of the gate.”
He looked like he was itching to reach for a weapon. “
And
?” Clearly he was still stuck on the whole
give me your blood
thing.
“If nothing can get in, nothing can get out. Not until the ritual is complete or the circle is broken.”
Shane didn’t bother saying
and
this time.
Siobhan sighed. “They are standing on top of a gateway to a dimension full of monsters. And they. Can’t. Get. Out.”
His eyes widened as he caught up to her thought train. “You’re going to open the gate.”
“Yes.”
“What about the girl?”
Siobhan looked at her replacement who was passed out cold and stripped bare on the altar. “The high council are cowards at the core. They’ll open the circle to save themselves, and if we do this right, we’ll be able to get in and grab her before whatever comes out has a chance to get her first. It’s the only way we’re getting over that line.”
Shane whistled again, a low, impressed sound. “You’ve got bigger balls than I do.”
Pulling her knife out, she tried to lighten the mood. “I think we both know that’s not true.” She held out her empty hand, and he gave her his arm with only the slightest hesitation.
“Try not to kill me,” he warned.
“Try not to die,” she countered before she slit open his arm.
The only way to save her is to bind their souls as one.
A Feast of Souls
© 2012 Hailey Edwards
Araneae Nation, Book 2
Born with the ability to communicate with the dead, few things take Mana by surprise. But when a canis lopes into her life, announcing himself as the long-dead father of a childhood friend, she’s shocked. To make matters worse, he has a dire message that she alone can deliver.
Now Mana must face Vaughn, the male who inspired one too many girlish fantasies, and impart the spirit’s message—without acknowledging her source—so the soul can be laid to rest.
With rumors of a burgeoning clan war setting his nerves on edge, the last thing Vaughn needs is for an innocent to get caught in the crosshairs. But the woman he remembers as an awkward girl refuses to leave his side until he’s heard her out. That’s not the only change in her that calls to him. Her kindness soothes his battle-scarred soul—and he craves her in ways a warrior shouldn’t.
When they are both captured, they learn of an even greater threat. The plague devastating the southlands has come to his clan home. And his best—and only—chance to keep his people alive is the female who walks among the dead.
Warning:
This book contains one fierce hero with a nose for danger, one stubborn heroine who smells like trouble, and one wolfish spirit who makes most relationships with the in-laws seem downright tame. Fur, fangs and some biting should be expected. But never fear, the hero has a sword, and he knows how to use it.
Enjoy the following excerpt for
A Feast of Souls:
“Are you ready?” Vaughn walked so close, heat from his body sizzled against my skin.
Static crackled across my arms and raised hairs all over my body. The veil. We had arrived. I was so grateful for a respite I hadn’t checked the reason why our procession had come to an end.
Shadows darkened Vaughn’s eyes. I imagined the wheel of his mind spinning. “Are you?”
His exhale sounded strained. “I am.” He cast me a calculating glance. “Kiss me for luck?”
I almost swallowed my tongue. “What?” My mind had wandered but not so far from its path.
“Kiss me.” His eyes gleamed brighter than they had since our ordeal began. “It’s tradition for a male to seek a female’s kiss before crossing the veil. Gives him a reason to fight its energy.”
“Really?” I made my voice sound thoughtful. “All these years I’ve broken tradition without realizing. Old Father never mentioned such a noble cause, nor did my other travel companions.”