terrible hurricane, Noelle Moyaux questions her gift of sight until a chance encounter with a mysterious stranger sets her on a path to save his soul.
Magnus Thornton is a millennium-old vampire who has found evidence of an old foe’s evil at work in the demolished city of New Orleans. Weary of the fight, he decides to greet the coming dawn after a night reveling in his favorite indulgences—a bottle of wine and a willing woman.
What starts as a night of sensual delights ends in a revelation of mutual discovery when Noelle quickly creeps into his heart. The ancient vampire, so jaded from life he never speaks, must now persuade her to flee the city before it’s too late.
Excerpt from Night Fall on Dark Mountain…
T he wolf rushed through the open door, into the darkened room beyond, his claws clattering on the tiled floor.
Woman! Mate! He had to find her.
Following wolf scent and the musty odor of blood, he sped through the room and up the curved staircase toward the light beckoning at the top.
Heedless of any danger, the wolf charged upward, stretching his limbs to leap several steps at a time in his desperation to find her—the slim, dark-haired one.
At the top of the stairs, the wolf came to a halt, hackles rising on his shoulders and back at the smell of blood—wolf blood. Bodies stretched on the floor before him, blood soaking the carpet beneath his paws. But what gave the animal pause were the looming, growling figures that faced him, standing above the corpses.
Enemy! Danger breathed in their combined rage.
The wolf started forward, first left then right, retreat being impossible because the dark-haired woman was nearby and sobbing. The sounds of her harsh cries brought up a howl that echoed in the narrow hallway.
The wolf heard the sounds the men made, harsh and loud, echoing in the hallway, but didn’t comprehend, only recognized the hatred tightening the voice of the nearest man-like creature.
Another sob drew his attention, just as the nearest foe leapt, wrapping powerful arms around the wolf’s throat—so tight he couldn’t breathe. He wriggled and jerked, gnashing teeth, but the man held fast to the wolf while another drew a shining rope over his muzzle.
Another spate of harsh sounds and a moment later, a jolt knocked the breath from his body and brought the wolf to his haunches, leaving him quivering in the aftermath. Still, he fought to stand.
Another jolt, this time searing in its ferocity left the wolf powerless, his tongue lolling from between his jaws. Blackness encroached, and in the moment before he surrendered, the wolf knew himself trapped.
*
Max Weir awoke slowly, every muscle in his body aching. He rolled from his back onto his knees and rested his forehead on the floor for a moment to recover from the change of equilibrium, shocked his whole body trembled from the effort.
Something had kicked the shit out of him.
When he lifted his head to see, he felt a sharp tug and the bite of metal around his neck.
Instinct kicked in, and he roared, tucking in his head to lunge against the chain. When he failed to budge it, he reached deep inside for the strength to transform.
“Turn, and we’ll kill you where you sit.” The voice, soft and deadly, and with slight European inflections, was one he didn’t recognize. But Max did recognize the steel beneath the words and resisted the primal urge to let loose his inner beast on his captors.
Still woozy and struggling to regain his full intellect, Max shook his head experimentally and realized it wasn’t one leash, but two, pulling in opposite directions to keep him lowered to the floor.
Again, Max raised his head, slowly this time, and blinked against the bright light, bringing focus to his eyes. He was in the living room of the compound, in the very center. Someone had cleared away the furniture. He knelt on the beige carpet, still naked after his latest chase.
A sideways glance revealed Dylan and Joe held the ends of his chains
Magnus Thornton is a millennium-old vampire who has found evidence of an old foe’s evil at work in the demolished city of New Orleans. Weary of the fight, he decides to greet the coming dawn after a night reveling in his favorite indulgences—a bottle of wine and a willing woman.
What starts as a night of sensual delights ends in a revelation of mutual discovery when Noelle quickly creeps into his heart. The ancient vampire, so jaded from life he never speaks, must now persuade her to flee the city before it’s too late.
Excerpt from Night Fall on Dark Mountain…
T he wolf rushed through the open door, into the darkened room beyond, his claws clattering on the tiled floor.
Woman! Mate! He had to find her.
Following wolf scent and the musty odor of blood, he sped through the room and up the curved staircase toward the light beckoning at the top.
Heedless of any danger, the wolf charged upward, stretching his limbs to leap several steps at a time in his desperation to find her—the slim, dark-haired one.
At the top of the stairs, the wolf came to a halt, hackles rising on his shoulders and back at the smell of blood—wolf blood. Bodies stretched on the floor before him, blood soaking the carpet beneath his paws. But what gave the animal pause were the looming, growling figures that faced him, standing above the corpses.
Enemy! Danger breathed in their combined rage.
The wolf started forward, first left then right, retreat being impossible because the dark-haired woman was nearby and sobbing. The sounds of her harsh cries brought up a howl that echoed in the narrow hallway.
The wolf heard the sounds the men made, harsh and loud, echoing in the hallway, but didn’t comprehend, only recognized the hatred tightening the voice of the nearest man-like creature.
Another sob drew his attention, just as the nearest foe leapt, wrapping powerful arms around the wolf’s throat—so tight he couldn’t breathe. He wriggled and jerked, gnashing teeth, but the man held fast to the wolf while another drew a shining rope over his muzzle.
Another spate of harsh sounds and a moment later, a jolt knocked the breath from his body and brought the wolf to his haunches, leaving him quivering in the aftermath. Still, he fought to stand.
Another jolt, this time searing in its ferocity left the wolf powerless, his tongue lolling from between his jaws. Blackness encroached, and in the moment before he surrendered, the wolf knew himself trapped.
*
Max Weir awoke slowly, every muscle in his body aching. He rolled from his back onto his knees and rested his forehead on the floor for a moment to recover from the change of equilibrium, shocked his whole body trembled from the effort.
Something had kicked the shit out of him.
When he lifted his head to see, he felt a sharp tug and the bite of metal around his neck.
Instinct kicked in, and he roared, tucking in his head to lunge against the chain. When he failed to budge it, he reached deep inside for the strength to transform.
“Turn, and we’ll kill you where you sit.” The voice, soft and deadly, and with slight European inflections, was one he didn’t recognize. But Max did recognize the steel beneath the words and resisted the primal urge to let loose his inner beast on his captors.
Still woozy and struggling to regain his full intellect, Max shook his head experimentally and realized it wasn’t one leash, but two, pulling in opposite directions to keep him lowered to the floor.
Again, Max raised his head, slowly this time, and blinked against the bright light, bringing focus to his eyes. He was in the living room of the compound, in the very center. Someone had cleared away the furniture. He knelt on the beige carpet, still naked after his latest chase.
A sideways glance revealed Dylan and Joe held the ends of his chains
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