DON'T BLACKMAIL THE VAMPIRE
A Sons of Kane Novel, Book Two
Genre: Light Paranormal Romance
Print Length: 156 pages
Publisher: Entangled: Covet
Publication Date: April 28, 2014
Rachel Davis will do anything to get her sister out of a bad relationship with her fiancé. Even if it involves a few fibs, a little breaking-and-entering, and blackmailing the fiancé's potential boss, Charles, for his help. So what if the handsome Charles happens to be a vampire?
Charles Wright has found the perfect way to trap the man threatening his brother's wife: cozy up to him, get invited along on the skiing trip, and then search for incriminating evidence. How much better that audacious but gorgeous Rachel is just as eager to nail the bastard. As far as he's concerned, there's nothing wrong with a little blackmail between two consenting adults. Especially when it's time for Rachel to pay up.
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DON’T BITE THE BRIDESMAID
A Sons of Kane Novel, Book One
Genre: Light Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Entangled Publishing (Covet)
Release Date: May 27, 2013
Alice Shepard needs one thing: a date for her sister’s wedding. And not just any date. A hunk who will make her fiancé rue the day he left her for her best friend. Her drop-dead gorgeous neighbor fits the bill—even if he is a bit quirky and never comes out during the day—and Alice has downed just enough appletinis to ask him. But she makes it quite clear that there will be no funny business.
Spending a week on a cruise ship full of humans while sleeping close to his sexy next-door neighbor sounds like a helluva bad idea to vampire Noah Thorpe. But his friends need time to get him out of a shotgun wedding—a vampire bonding that will tie his fate to a female vampire he’s never met. And Alice’s offer comes at just the right time.
What could possibly go wrong?
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CPA-turned-romance-author Tiffany Allee used to battle spreadsheets in Corporate America, and now concentrates on her characters’ battles to find love. Raised in small-town Colorado, Tiffany currently lives in Phoenix, AZ, by way of Chicago and Denver. She is happily married to a secret romantic who tolerates her crazy mutterings.
She writes about ass-kicking heroines and the strong heroes who love them. Her work includes the suspense-driven From the Files of the Otherworlder Enforcement Agency series which revolves around a group of paranormal cops solving crimes and finding love, and Don’t Bite the Bridesmaid, a lighthearted paranormal romance (Entangled Publishing).
Tiffany has an MBA in accounting and nearly a decade of experience in corporate finance. All super useful stuff for a writer who spends far too much time trying to figure out fun ways to keep her characters apart, and interesting ways to kill people (for her books—of course!).
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Don’t Blackmail the Vampire by Tiffany Allee
(some of what is in the book is cut from this scene, for brevity and to minimize spoilers):
It wasn’t right. A rescuer shouldn't have a hard-on while performing a heroic act. Charles was pretty sure there was a rule about that somewhere, but he'd be damned if it was one he could follow right now.
Rachel snuggled perfectly in his arms. All soft and warm and smelling like a fucking garden mixed with something delicious. Cinnamon and fucking spice.
And that made him hungry.
"This is so weird," she murmured against his neck, sending a fresh spike of lust straight to his cock. He'd never found his neck to be an erogenous zone before, but with her mouth so close to his skin, it sure seemed like one. "Are people staring? I feel like they're staring."
"No one's staring," he lied. He skied sans poles, having left her equipment and some of his own in a pile by the snowbank where he'd found her. Unfortunately, his offer to call the paramedics had been met with a resounding "no." One that he'd almost argued. Seeing her there, stuck in the snow, her face not even visible from the run, had sent him into a near-panicked state.
It was ridiculous. He barely knew her. But somehow, when she'd failed to join them at the bottom of the run, worry had been the first thing that hit him. Not annoyance that he'd have to leave Brent to search for her. Not anger at the inconvenience. Worry. When was the last time he'd worried over anyone? He didn't even worry about his close family—save a bit of the emotion reserved for Alice, his brother's woman. Granted, his family wasn't exactly as vulnerable as Rachel, but worrying over anyone wasn’t like him.
She finally peeked out from the crook of his neck to look around. Her voice lowered to an angry hiss. "People are too staring."
"They're staring at my awesomeness. I'm skiing with you in my arms down a damn mountain. And I’m making it look good."
A long pause. He could practically hear the gears in her mind shift to anxious mode. At least he was no longer the only one.
"Isn't this kind of nonhuman of you? Like in a slightly obvious sort of way?"
"For your sake, I will pretend you said superhuman. That way I don't have to drop you into a nice fresh snowbank and leave you for someone else to fish out."
"I'm serious!" She gripped his collar with one hand and shook it.
"Are you seriously trying to make me crash?
The hand at his collar stilled, and she was silent for a good ten seconds. He sighed as soon as he felt her take a deep breath.
"Are we almost there?" she asked, craning to find a familiar marker.
"How old are you? Do you have to go to the bathroom, too? I will turn this vampire sleigh around.”
She gasped and he grinned.
"Harridan." His worry—his fear, if he were being honest with himself, which he wasn't—made it difficult to stop teasing her. Her attitude, and her immediate irritation with him, made him feel better. If she was using that sharp tongue, she couldn't be too hurt. “We’re almost there.”
“Good.” She relaxed against him, and his cock jumped back to attention. His teeth strained against his efforts to keep them sheathed, suddenly sensitive as hell.
Shit. It was like he was a teenager, holding a girl close for the first time. Thankfully, his strength and her small size made it possible for him to hold her slightly too high for her to notice. And with any luck, he’d be able to get farther away from her before his fangs shot out like a freshly made vampire’s, despite his concentrated efforts.
He’d probably never assuage her fear after that.
“Charles?” she asked as they approached the ski racks. From there it was a quick walk back to the lodge. Thank God. Hopefully he’d lose his erection by then. His thick ski pants would make it less obvious, but still. Holy hell awkward.
He suppressed a sigh and held her a little closer. No way was he losing his hard-on now.