A Vampire’s
Wish
Vampires on Holiday, #1
by M.L. Guida
Date of Publication: December 19th 2018
Publisher: Buffalo Mountain Press
Cover Artist: Megan J Parker-Squires
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Tagline: He lost her once in another time. Will she give their love another chance?
BLURB
Janus : I lost her once in another life. I’ve found her again, but she’s with another man. A man who beats her.
I won’t let him hurt her again. But if I move too fast, she’ll disappear again. Will I ever win her heart or am I destined to live alone for eternity?
Deirdre: A vampire’s claims he knew me over two hundred years ago, and I was his wife. He wants to pick up where we left off.
I can’t deal with his fantasies. I have enough troubles with escaping from my boss who is my fiancé.
Unfortunately, my only chance to escape from him is to trust Janus who stirs up feelings that I’ve never felt for any other man. They scare me. What if he’s right? What if in a former life I was in love with him? Could I possibly be feeling desire for a vampire?
A Vampire's Wish is the first book in ML Guida's new sexy, vampire series. If you like page-turning action, dark heroes, kick-ass heroines, then you'll fall in love with new series from an award winning author.
Amazon
Excerpt:
“Yes, spoiled me
actually. Fancy dinners. Expensive clothes. But it wasn’t the money I loved. It
was his humor and his tenderness.” She lowered her gaze. “He’s my boss. I’m his
secretary.”
“Your boss?”
“He’s an
attorney. A powerful one.”
“And?”
She strolled
over to his small Christmas tree. “You’ve got a beautiful tree.” She glanced at
the box of ornaments on the coffee table. “How come you haven’t decorated your
tree?”
“My family’s
tradition was to decorate the tree on Christmas Eve.” He left out that that it
had been their tradition, one he had kept up after all these years.
She reached into
the box of ornaments and pulled out a white porcelain horse ornament with roses
on the saddle. “Brandon helped me out during some dark times.”
Janus held his
breath. Interesting she focused on that one. She had cherished the little horse
when she’d been alive. He’d given it to her their first Christmas.
She stroked the
horse, just like she had when she was alive as Delores. Wishing, hoping, he
tried to remain calm, but his hands shook. The slip of a woman was about to
bring a master vampire to his knees.
He nodded.
“There’s a story that goes with that horse.” His voice trembled, and she lifted
her slender eyebrow.
“Oh?”
“The story goes
that a little girl came to Jesus’s manager. Heartbroken, she had no gifts to
bring to the poor infant, so she cried. Her tears turned to roses when they
splashed onto the ground. She quickly gathered the blossoms and offered him a
bouquet of red blooms. The roses on the horse’s saddle are a tribute to the
little girl.”
“What a lovely
story. I love roses.” She sat on his leather couch and crossed her legs.
“They’re my favorite flower.”
Janus forced
himself not to move. Delores had a magic touch with gardens. Her flowers were
grand and brilliant, and at each of their homes, their rose gardens shadowed
their neighbors. At midnight, she used to stroll in the garden and inhale their
fragrant scent, but he liked to spread her naked body on a bed of rose petals,
the moon shining on her skin, her brown hair fanning over the petals. He ached
to take her again, to kiss her, to spark her memory.
“Brandon is
allergic to roses.”
He gripped the
arm chair. “Allergic?”
“Yes. However,
he’s a great gardener. Has a green thumb and grows zucchini, squash, tomatoes,
and cucumbers. Before we started living together, he’d bring his produce into
the office.”
“You were
telling me why you’re with him.”
“A drunk driver
killed my parents on New Year’s Eve.” She brushed more tears off her face.
“Sorry.”
He handed her a
box of tissues.
“Thank you.” She
wiped her cheeks and blew her nose. “This is the first holiday without my
parents.” She broke down and sobbed.
A Vampire’s Christmas
Deirdre looked around the decorated house with a twinkling Christmas tree, presents carefully put underneath the branches, and the sweet scent of pine filling the room, but it wasn’t Christmas.
Something was missing.
Her pulse quickened and her insides quaked. She smiled. She knew exactly want to do. Janus had done so many wonderful things for her––most of those presents were for her––that she wanted to do something for him that he’d never expect. Luckily, he was still in the death sleep.
Giddiness swept over her. She grabbed her purse and practically skipped to their SUV. Snow swirled around the windshield, putting her in the mood for baking.
Within minutes, she was at the grocery store. She grabbed flour, margarine, sugar, eggs, and anise from the pharmacy.
She could hardly wait to see Janus’s face. He was just now being able to eat certain things beside blood and she hoped he could add her grandmother’s special recipe to his repertoire.
After she parked the SUV in the garage, she unloaded her precious ingredients, then she pulled out her grandmother’s old pizzelle iron. Janus had offered to buy her a new one, but her grandmother’s was seasoned not just with traditions, but memories.
Deirdre melted a pound of margarine in the microwave. She broke fifteen eggs into a large mixing bowl.
“What are you doing?”
She squeaked, nearly jumping out of her skin. “Janus.”
He grinned leaning against the wall and yawned.
Her mouth watered at his naked chest and she bit back the desire to run her fingers over those sleek packed abs. “I thought you were asleep.”
He cupped her chin. “You left and I woke. I can always feel when you’re gone.” He brushed his lips over hers and she shivered.
“I wanted to make you a surprise.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Cookies? Unless there’s blood in them, I doubt I can eat it.”
She frowned. “But you’ve been eating other things.”
“Rare meat and red wine.”
She kissed his hand. “Will you at least try? It just isn’t Christmas without pizzelles.”
“You know I can deny you nothing.”
She bit his lip. “If it doesn’t work, I’ll add blood to it.”
“If you don’t stop tempting me, those cookies will never be made.” He lightly scraped his fangs over her neck.
Chills ran down her back, and her heart skipped a beat. She put her hands on his wide chest. “Janus, not know.”
She laughed at the disappointment in his eyes. She clasped his hand. “Here, you can help.”
He did a double take. “I can?”
“Yes. Put two and half cups of sugar in the bowl while I get the margarine out of the microwave.”
Janus did as he was told. He was such a magnificent man not only with his perfect abs, but his long dark hair that flared over his wide shoulders. She could never get enough of him or thank him for saving her from a nightmare. She trembled and her knees weakened.
“Are you cold?” He wrapped his arms around her and snuggled his head in the crock of her neck. “I could make you warm.”
She took a deep breath. “I know you could, but I really want to do this for you.”
He slowly released her and she already missed his warmth. “As you wish.”
She smiled. Her favorite line from The Princess Bride.
“What do you want me to do next?”
She gestured. “Sit at the counter and relax.”
“Would you like some wine?”
“Sure.”
Janus poured them both a glass of wine from his favorite vintage sent all the way from Italy while she added the margarine to the eggs and sugar. She flicked on the Kitchen-Aide mixer.
He set a glass on the counter. “Here, you go.”
“Thank you.” She leaned over and brushed her lips over his.
“So tempting,” he murmured. “How about if I take you on the floor like we did the other night?”
Her heart jumped at the memory and blood immediately pooled between her legs. “You promise.”
He sighed and settled on to barstool. “I know I did.”
She could hardly wait to see if he could eat these. She’d be so disappointed if he couldn’t. But he was Janus Morano––Master Vampire.
She added six cups of flour to the egg, sugar, and butter mixture. “Now, for my favorite part.”
He frowned. “What’s that?”
“You’ll see.” She opened the small bottle of Anise oil and added it to the dough. The smell of Christmas spread through the kitchen like the blowing snow outside.
The creases of Janus’s frown disappeared and he flashed her a smile that always turned her into a hot mess.
“What is that?”
“Anise oil.” Once again, the mixer churned the dough, releasing more of Christmas.
“Now what?”
“We have to let it rest for a half hour.”
“Good. I’ve waited long enough.” He grabbed her and kissed her like a starving man.
Her body turned alive. She indulged in running her hands over his thick muscles, marveling at his strength. He was so powerful that vampire killers quaked when they heard his name.
And he was his. All hers.
He slipped his hand underneath her T-Shirt and she gasped. “Janus. Not yet. The cookies.”
“Seriously?” His husky breath almost made her want to forget the pizzelles.
Almost.
“I promise you won’t be sorry.”
“They better be damn good.”
“They are.” She left him before she allowed him to make good on his promise.
She brought the bowl over to the pizzelle iron that was nice and hot. Janus’s passionate gaze made it hard for her to concentrate. She dipped a teaspoon into the mixture with her shaking hand and dabbed a spoonful onto the snowflake-shaped iron.
“Am I making you nervous?”
She glared. “Yes.”
This time, he laughed. She liked the sound of his laugh. It was deep from his diaphragm and always erased her slightest frown.
She squeezed the iron tight, flattening the dough. The scent of anise grew stronger.
She carefully took out the cookie with a fork and placed them on the counter to cool. They were a perfect golden color.
“They look delicious,” he said, but she could hear the wariness in his voice. Certain foods could make him deathly sick.
“Try one.”
He gingerly picked up a pizzelle.
She held her breath. Her chest tightened. She shifted nervously from foot-to-foot as he nibbled.
His eyes widened and a smile spread across his handsome face. “These are delicious.”
“Are you feeling okay? Are you sick?”
“I’m fine. I can’t tell you the last time I ate a cookie.”
“Hundreds of years ago.”
He gobbled up the cookie, then drew her into his arms. “Thank you.”
She searched his face. “Are you sure you’re not ill?”
“Only sick from not loving you.”
“I wanted to share something special from my past with you. Making pizzelles with my family has been one of my favorite traditions. And now, you’re part of my family.”
He grinned mischievously. “Let’s add another tradition to making pizzelles.”
She laughed and indulged in a sweet pleasure that brought making pizzelles into a hot, sinful delight.
Author Info
Award Winning Author M.L. Guida loves science fiction and the paranormal. From Star Trek to Dark Shadows to Supernatural, she fell in love with things that go bump in the night. But it was the heroes, she loved the best. No matter what happened, those characters never gave up. Now, her heroes are following their footsteps. Whether it's a shape shifter from outer space or a vampire from the past, her wounded heroes always find a way to conquer battles and win the heart of the feisty heroine. Because even in a world of darkness, true love survive.
Sign up for M.L. Guida's Supernatural Scroll on her website at http://mlguida.com to learn about new releases and giveaways. She also has a readers Facebook Group called ML Guida's Supernatural Lounge. She has giveaways, news, and ways for her to connect with you.
Hosted by
Presented by
No comments:
Post a Comment