To My Wonderful Readers,
Imagine for a moment a world similar to our own except for one small detail . . . Vampires.
They live among us in hidden Amish-like communities where the Purebloods rule the Impures, and the ten ancient members of the Order rule them all. Most vampires never fight against their class distinctions-just as most would never have the guts to leave if they were being ill-treated.
But our Roman brothers are not like most. Alexander, Nicholas and Lucian had not only the guts to run from their community and from the harsh rule of the Order, but the brains to stay hidden and fed. For many years, they have lived in peace and freedom, but now the Order has come for them. They want the brothers to fight for them, for the communities-and for the purity of the line. They want them to bring down an Impure rogue before there is an uprising in the Breed.
The brothers want nothing to do with this war, but as they take on new members of their family, females and their kin, Impures and Purebloods alike, they know a war is coming. And if they wish to keep their family intact, they will have to choose a side and fight.
I am thrilled to be able to share this Mark of the Vampire e-novella, Eternal Blood, with you. As some of you may know, Gray Donohue is the Impure brother of our heroine, Sara, from the first book in this series, Eternal Hunger. Gray has always intrigued me; his struggles with his past, his closed mind and fire-ravaged hands and his need to shut off the world and give in to the pleasures of the body, as he did in Eternal Kiss. All of these factors have made me wonder what his future holds, what he will do now that he's found out he's an Impure, a half vampire, now that Alexander Roman brought him back to life. I've also wanted to explore the Impure world more. I feel as though we've seen a clear vision of how the Purebloods live, but really never see behind the mask of the Impure lifestyle, except to note that they are looked down upon and treated like second class citizens.
In Eternal Blood we get to see the truth behind the Impures' call to action, we get to see their struggles up close, and how the Order truly views and treats them. Granted, this is only the beginning of Gray's story-and the battles and triumphs of the Impures-but, boy, was it wonderful to write.
This e-novella fits perfectly between sexy and secretive Nicholas's book, Eternal Kiss, and bad-boy vamp Lucian's book, Eternal Captive, and I hope you enjoy it.
All the best and happy reading,
It was like being back in the hospital again, this feeling of deep and overwhelming intensity-an intensity he had no control over. And the images that flickered through his mind; he couldn't hold on to them in any real way, get a fix on them. Then there were voices. Three voices at once, and all coming fast.
Fast and furious as fuck.
With instructions he couldn't comprehend, demands he wasn't certain he wanted to give in to, and a pressure inside his skull to open wide and receive, Gray Donohue slammed open his eyes and hissed a fierce, "Stop! Christ. It's too much."
The quick images and harsh demands ringing inside his skull suddenly evaporated and he could breathe once again, focus again-even with the irritated and disappointed glares of the three Impures who encircled him.
"What's the problem?" came the gruff voice at his shoulder.
Eyes narrowed, Gray turned to regard Riordon James, the massive Impure male with night-black eyes who had served most of his life in the human armed forces until he'd been caught bunking with a couple of his superior male officers.
"I thought you liked threesomes," the male added with a growl of insincerity.
"I do," Gray returned darkly. "Unfortunately this one lacked the dirty talk I need to get it up. All that angel white noise you tossed my way really turned me off."
Gray watched the male's mouth thin even further than normal. One bullshit joke deserved another, didn't it? Besides, his idea of a threesome was naked, sweaty and mutually pleasurable. It sure as hell wasn't obliging three fully clothed Impure warriors who were attempting to drill his brain for answers-find out if he was the missing piece to their puzzle.
Per usual, Riordon wasn't giving up or moving on. His nostrils flared as he said, "You want dirty talk, do you, Impure?"
"Come on, Rio," Piper Leigh, the blond female Impure across from Gray, said quickly and calmly. "Not necessary."
But her words were lost on the tank-like male, and in seconds his eyes narrowed and a wave of intensity shot through Gray's mind like an emotional bullet along with the words:
YOU KEEP THIS UP, I'LL CUT OFF YOUR COCK AND EAT IT FOR BREAKFAST.
It was like audio feedback times a thousand and Gray grit his teeth against the assault. The feeling of the words themselves inside his head weren't clear and present like Alexander's were, like anyone he could hear in his mind. No. These words slammed into his very being and ricocheted off his bones and muscle-it was like freaking God's voice booming around in there, and he tried not to jerk in response as he stared back at Riordon.
"Dirty enough for you?" the male asked, dark amusement glittering in his black eyes.
Gray choked out a bitter reply, "Not exactly what I had in mind, but I respect the effort."
Realizing he hadn't killed Gray's pluck as he'd hoped, Riordon snorted with disgust and turned away. "This is bullshit. He's bullshit."
"How about a break?" Piper asked, her pale lavender eyes bright with concern.
"We don't have time for breaks," said the male to her right-and to Gray's left. "This needs to get done, get settled so we can continue our fight."
The third member of the small but powerful vampiric coven was nearly as intense as the first, but where Riordon was powerful and solid, milk-white skin over icy hard muscle, Vincent Seal sported long, lean athleticism wrapped up in dark caramel skin, eyes and hair.
"I think we all need to chill out," Piper said, her eyes still connecting with Gray as though she were trying to read his mind, though her gifts were more akin to changing the thoughts of others. "He's just getting his feet wet here."
His feet, Gray thought bitterly, glancing down. Where his feet had once been planted in the posh living quarters of the Roman brothers' household, they were now uncertainly tap dancing around a circle of red color and interwoven lines; the symbol of what he had come to realize was the Impure resistance, inside a sparsely furnished, unromantic warehouse space in the Bronx. It was the real deal here. No Ethan Dare plotting and sex parties-no Impures laid out on cushy mats and pillows as they attempted to bump and grind their way to respect and equality with the Pureblood communities they served. This was real . . . and raw, and blatantly stated that there was work to be done.