Please enjoy the following excerpt from Elliot, book three in the Pack Trouble series. If you would like updates on release dates and cover reveals for the Pack Trouble series please subscribe to my mailing list here.
Aneeta had no idea where she was.
She awoke in the dark on a cold stone floor with no clue how she’d arrived, or where she was. Panic nearly overwhelmed her, but she remembered what Dr. Heinz had taught her to do when anxiety attacks threatened. She closed her eyes, and took a few calming breaths. Panic would serve no purpose in helping her figure out what had happened. She needed a practical head. And if there was one thing Aneeta could fake, it was composure.
Choking down her fright, Aneeta focused on her surroundings. She wasn’t alone. The shuffling of multiple sets of feet assured her of that. She forced her eyes open, but in the dim light, it was difficult to see. She gave herself time to adjust and soon she could see the other women.
There were a lot of them. Too many for her to count, with her mind fuzzy and confused, but all of them were naked.
What the hell was going on? Horror rose within her. She glanced down and was relieved to find that she was wearing jean shorts and a tank top. But she had no shoes. She sagged against the wall.
At least I’m not naked.
Outside the bars, in the distance, she could see that the sun was setting. It had almost completed its descent, which explained the poor lighting. Aneeta rested her head on the hard surface behind her as she tried to focus.
Why were there bars?
Eyes widening, she jumped to her feet.
She was in a cage.
She glanced around. No, it was some kind of cave, but thick metal bars barred the entrance.
Aneeta’s legs were shaky beneath her as she rushed to the front of the crowd of women, pushing past their naked bodies.
Gripping the rusty bars, she pulled on them for all she was worth. They didn’t budge.
I’ve been kidnapped!
Wiping her dirt-crusted hands on her jeans, she wondered if the others were victims as well. The low mumble of conversation continued around her as the women chatted. Aneeta was struggling to make sense of it all when she felt it.
Excitement.
The women surrounding her weren’t terrified. There was no fear, only excitement. It was almost as though an electrical current ran through the group. Something was about to happen. Something they were waiting for.
She was the only one who didn’t want to be there. The only one who didn’t belong, which begged the question, who were these women? Why were they naked in this cage and why on earth were they excited about it?
And how the hell had she gotten here?
Timidly, Aneeta reached out and tapped the nearest woman on the shoulder.
Surely, they could help her, right?
The woman turned, her eyebrow raised in question.
Aneeta couldn’t help but stare. After all, the woman was naked.
Solidly built, with defined muscles, the woman towered over Aneeta. Being less than average height, Aneeta was often the shortest woman in a crowd, but this woman made her think of an Amazon. And it seemed to be average for the women in this cave. She had to be a good four inches shorter than most of the female population in the cave.
Aneeta tried not to stare at the woman’s peaked nipples.
“What?” Her impatience was sharp.
Glancing up, she couldn’t for the life of her figure out what to say.
The woman growled. “You tapped me. What do you want?”
Aneeta shook her head. This has to be a dream, right? “What’s going on? Where are we?”
The woman jutted out a hip and propped her fist on it. “What do you…” she started, then trailed off, confusion warping her expression. “Who are you?”
“My name is Aneeta. I don’t know where I am,” she replied, but it was useless. The Amazon wasn’t listening.
“Hey! Does anyone recognize this woman?”
Suddenly, all their gazes shifted to Aneeta. She gulped. Some looked confused, some mad, and others appeared indifferent.
“Who are you?” the Amazon demanded again.
The women crowded in around her, and Aneeta felt her own anger rising. All she wanted was a little help, maybe a bit of understanding.
“My name is Aneeta and I don’t know where I am,” she repeated. Then she forced out the thought that scared her the most. “I think I’ve been kidnapped.”
The Amazon leaned over and sniffed her. “She doesn’t smell like a member of our pack.”
A woman with short dark hair and almond-shaped eyes stepped closer. Like the Amazon, she sniffed Aneeta. “But she doesn’t smell like she’s from King’s territory either.”
What are they talking about?
A little self-conscious Aneeta turned her head and sniffed her underarm. It seemed silly to be relieved to realize she’d put on deodorant.
Another woman pushed her way through. “Lots of people come from all over the world,” she informed the Amazon, before turning to Aneeta. “You think you were kidnapped?”
“Back up! Back up!” An older lady in a black robe came forward as the younger crowd parted for her. The woman gasped when she got a glimpse of Aneeta’s face. “Oh, no.”
“What?” Aneeta recoiled at the look of shock and fear that crossed the lady’s face.
The woman closed her eyes, but when she opened them, gone was all the emotion Aneeta had just witnessed. She turned to the crowd. “Leave her be. She is of no concern to any of you. We continue on as normal.”
Her gaze never left Aneeta as she headed to the front of the cage.
Spurred on by anger, Aneeta reached up and tapped the Amazon again. The woman whirled around, but before she spat out her angry words, Aneeta rushed, “Can you please tell me what’s going on?”
The Amazon drew back. Aneeta wasn’t sure if it was the use of the word please, or the pity in her eyes, but the Amazon gave her an answer. “It’s the Curusm.”
Aneeta sighed in confusion.
The Amazon grunted. “God, you don’t know anything. It’s the Running of the Mates.”
“That still doesn’t help me.”
The one woman who had seemed to care when Aneeta said kidnapped explained, “It happens once a year. Anyone ready to find a mate can sign up. When the sun sets, they release the women. The men hunt them down and select their mate. First come, first serve. Survival of the fittest, so to speak.”
The Amazon nudged the other woman. “More like, survival of the horniest.” They both laughed.
Aneeta rubbed her face in her hands, trying to make sense of it all. It had to be a dream. “How did I get here?” she insisted.
“Look, I don’t know your story,” the Amazon replied, “but this is my first running and I’ll be damned if some greenling is going to ruin it for me. I’m here to find my mate. I don’t know why you’re here.”
The Amazon turned away, clearly done with their conversation.
Aneeta gripped the bars once more and rested her head against them. Maybe she could just wait in the cave until it was all over, then she could sneak away.
A few minutes later, the long howl pierced the air. A shiver raked over her body, causing the hairs on her neck to stand up. What the hell was that?
* * *
And now, an excerpt from Blood Lust and Black Magic, coming in 2024.
The only time Rowan should have seen his daughter naked was when she was a baby, and he was changing dirty diapers. Instead, here he was, meeting her for the first time as she knelt, naked, barely eighteen—and looking even younger—at the feet of the notorious vampire, Nixon.
She’d been in the vampire’s possession for almost a year. How she was still alive was a mystery. By now, Nixon should have had his fill and killed her, yet here she was.
There was no denying her bloodline. She had his nose and the same vibrant violet eyes his mother had. He didn’t remember much about the girl’s own mother, Scarlett, but she must have had an oval face and a slight wave to her hair. And she’d definitely been mortal.
Rowan didn’t know anything about being a father. He certainly hadn’t even known he had a daughter.
Scarlett’s death had made the news, and it was only a matter of days after he’d heard that an attorney showed up at his office with a letter. What was written inside had shocked Rowan and changed his future. He was a father with a daughter who was either dead or in a lot of trouble.
Her name was Wyn.
Inside the letter, Scarlett had confessed how much she hated living in this realm. Almost twenty years ago, she’d come through the portal, survived the journey to town, and been disappointed when her trip to the embassy had resulted in the knowledge that she’d likely never make it home. The distress on her face when Rowan had delivered that news was one of the only things he remembered about Scarlett. Their brief, one-night affair was a hazy memory now, but the argument they’d had the following day when she’d beg, pleaded, then insisted he help her get back home had been seared in his memory.
One more reason never to get involved with a mortal.
He wasn’t putting his life on the line to help some stranger get home. She’d adjust. They all did.
But apparently, she’d gotten pregnant and not bothered to tell him. And she hadn’t adjusted.
Her hatred for this realm had grown deeper and deeper. So deep in fact that she’d decided to trade her only daughter to a vampire in exchange for safe passage to the portal. In her letter, she’d outlined her deal with Nixon, but the vampire had reneged on the bargain. Scarlett had been found mangled and drained of blood, and now her daughter sat at the vampire’s feet.
The letter had been left with her attorney in case her body was found. If she didn’t survive the trip home, she wanted Rowan to know about Wyn. If Scarlett had made it back to the mortal realm, Rowan would never have known he had a daughter, and Wyn would have no hope of being rescued.
Now, Wyn wouldn’t meet his eye. Whether she’d been trained to keep her gaze cast down, or she was embarrassed, he wasn’t sure. Likely a bit of both. Rowan flicked his gaze to Nixon. The bastard sat there, like a king on a throne, a smug smile carving his pale features.
The vampire was nothing but a thug attempting to prove he was more. He’d tried several times to take power from the Linwood clan. He held court like he was royalty and fancied himself regal, but he was little more than a sadist.
It had taken Rowan months to track Wyn down, and after weeks of trying to gain an audience with the vampire, he’d finally been granted five minutes to meet his daughter.
He wasn't sure why Nixon was being generous, but he certainly didn’t trust it.
He’d come through a room full of demons playing cards before being confined in Nixon’s private rooms. The music from the neighboring bar was muffled.
Rowan swallowed down his fear, thought about the woman before him, and though his voice was calm and measured, he spoke firmly. “You must be bored with her by now. I have plenty of money. Name your price.”
Nixon tugged on the leash attached to the collar that hung loosely around her neck. Wyn shuffled backward to avoid falling. “Do you hear that, darling? Daddy Dearest wants to buy your freedom.”
The girl looked up from between the hair that fell forward over her face. Tears stained her cheeks, and a bite mark on her neck looked fresh. She looked clean and well-fed, but Rowan wondered why Nixon would bother to meet her basic needs.
When her gaze locked on his, one thing stood out above all the rest. She wasn’t under a Blood Lust spell, which meant she knew exactly what had befallen her. Nixon was a sick son of a bitch who wanted to terrorize her. Rather than put her under a spell that would make her complacent and keep her body wrapped in pleasure rather than pain, he’d kept her mind free. He wanted her to struggle, to fight, to fear him, and to break.
Rowan wished he’d gotten here sooner. He needed to get her out of here.
He wasn’t sure what—if anything—Wyn had been told about him. He was about to clarify, to give her an introduction, but Nixon beat him to it.
“Wyn, darling, this is your Daddy. Did you know that?”
The girl’s eyes widened. She let out a soft sigh. Rowan recognized it as hope. Unfortunately, so did Nixon.
“I could have sold her at least a dozen times by now. I’ve had at least that many offers, and I’ll tell you what I told each of them. She’s worth more to me than any sum. You cannot have her.” He reached down, his fingers grazing the wound on her neck before trailing lower, leaving a bloody trail down her body.
Rowan looked away as that arm reached lower and lower. Nixon’s wicked laugh filled the room.
“You can find someone else to amuse yourself with. She’s had enough.”
“But I haven’t. I’ll never have enough of my darling, little Wyn.” He leaned closer to her, his voice lowering, “I’m never letting you go.”
She bit her lip, and fresh tears slipped down her face.
Rowan’s hands clenched.
“She’s a beautiful girl, your daughter, but she’s nothing extraordinary. She’s young, which is of interest for anyone looking to make a purchase here in the Divide, but there are plenty of attractive, young females sold every day here. It wasn’t until that first bite that I realized she was more than extraordinary. Do you know what happens when a vampire drinks immortal blood, Rowan?”
He assumed it was a rhetorical question. Everyone knew a vampire had to feed off a mortal creature to survive. If they drank from an immortal, it was deadly to them.
“Do you know what happens when we drink the blood of a half immortal? Feast off a creature whose lifespan is longer than that of a human, yet pales in comparison to say, a witch.”
Rowan had dreaded coming to this place. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want Wyn here, but he feared things were about to get a whole lot worse.
“No,” he answered when it became clear Nixon wanted an answer.
“Neither did I. Her mother gave her to me with no indication that she was part witch and maybe that’s why she was willing to trade. Maybe she was banking on her daughter’s blood, killing me when I tried to feast on her.”
Rowan hoped that was the case, but he’d likely never know why Scarlett offered up her daughter as a sacrificial lamb to get what she desired most in the world.
Once more, Nixon’s fingers fell on her throat, this time prodding at the wound until she winced and tried to pull away. Nixon brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean.
The expression on his face was one of pure ecstasy, but that wasn’t what held Rowan immobile. Horror and dread shot through Rowan as Nixon’s eyes widened and his irises began to glow the same purple color as Wyn’s.
Nixon’s moan was guttural. “She’s intoxicating.”
He was addicted to her blood, like some kind of drug. Getting her free was going to be damn near impossible. Nixon definitely wouldn’t give her up without a fight.
“But it’s more than just that.” Nixon raised his hand, palm up, and a small purple flame formed. Mage magic. The same color as Rowan’s magic.
What. The. Fuck.
Fear kept him from responding.
A vampire with mage magic? It was a dangerous concept.
“Her blood is a powerful force, Rowan. I can walk in the daylight now. I see the appeal of the sun on my face now that it doesn’t cause me to burn. Plus, there’s this.” He rotated his hand, the ball of flame moving as he did so. “I can’t levitate or cast spells or enchantments, but this mage magic…” His eyes sparkled with greed and lust. “It’s addictive.”
There was no way he was getting Wyn free, not tonight. He’d be lucky if he made it out of here alive. He needed to escape the Divide and regroup. A vampire with mage magic could walk in the daylight? No one was going to believe him. He was on his own.
“It wears off after a while, though, which is why Wyn is never far from me.” Nixon glanced from Wyn to Rowan. “I’m not sure if it’s as powerful as a real witch’s magic, though. Shall we put it to the test?”
Nixon rose from where he’d been seated on the daybed.
Immediately Rowan assumed a defensive position, his hands moving upward, his own mage magic springing to life from his hands.
He needed to get out of here, but he needed something from Wyn first, and to get it, he needed to be close enough to touch her.
Creating a blast ball, Rowan chanted as the sphere grew in dimensions. “Sellog, Cyther, Nocho!”
On the last word, he sent the ball hurtling toward Nixon. With a shout, the vampire dodged the attack, and Wyn, with a cry, launched herself at the floor, using her hands to cover her head.
Rowan raced across the room, grasped Wyn’s head, and lifted it from the floor. “I’m sorry for this, but I promise I’ll be back for you.”
He wanted to take her with him, but Nixon’s hand was still firmly fisted around that damn leash.
The vampire pushed off the bed, and with a flash of elongated white fangs, hissed his displeasure as he rushed toward Rowan.
At the back of her skull, Rowan grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked, prompting a scream from the young girl.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Nixon’s voice was a growl.
The door burst open, and several demons poured into the room.
Heart pounding, Rowan created another blast ball and sent it soaring toward the ceiling. The roof gave way, a hole punching through the beams—shingles, wood, dust, and debris. The remnants of purple magic sparked along the jagged edges of the hole before disappearing.
Knowing lingering wasn’t in his best interest, Rowan immediately began to levitate. As he made his way through the hole, he waved his hand and summoned the broomstick he’d left leaning against the brick wall of the bar.
He was soaring away from the Divide as quickly as possible, yet he still heard Nixon’s bellow. “After him. I want that witch’s head!”
More about Blood Lust and Black Magic
Sometimes you need to take a walk on the dark side.
When Rowan Mallor, defense magic specialist, hears that a former lover has been murdered, he shrugs it off as a typical occurrence for mortals who choose to wander outside the safety of Clayridge’s formidable walls. Everything changes when a letter arrives from the dead woman’s attorney informing him of the teenage daughter he never knew he had—a daughter who’s been traded to the villainous vampire Nixon Castor.
The night Yvette ‘Evee’ Barrett catches Rowan breaking into the Collections Room at the Barrett Academy, it only confirms her judgment of his character—he’s a liar and a cheat and not to be trusted. Unfortunately, her father, Headmaster Barrett, believes Rowan when he promises to help find the students that have been mysteriously vanishing from the Academy. Even worse, her father hires him to become the new defensive magic teacher, which gave Rowan the chance to accomplish whatever he started the night she caught him breaking into the school.
With the two forced to work together, it’s a war of words and mistrust—Rowan will use any means necessary to steal the precious Book of Damned to save his daughter and the missing students, even if he has to seduce Evee to accomplish it. Meanwhile, Evee is determined to unearth Rowan’s secret and see him rot in jail. But to save not only the school and students but society as they know it, the pair must put aside their differences and do something neither desires—work as a team to save what’s most precious to them.