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Eligibility: Contest does not seem to have any geographical restrictions.
Ends: 1 March 2014
Prize(s): 3 Grand Prizes: Each winner will receive a signed paperback copy of EMBRACE THE DARK, e-copy of EMBRACE THE MAGIC and EMBRACE THE MYSTERY, notepad, journal, note cards, sticky notes, RTC cards
Entry method: Rafflecopter form + follow instructions.
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Book 3 of the The Blood Rose Series
Mastyr Quinlan pursues the artist, Batya, with only one thing in mind but soon discovers that his desire for her is just the beginning of an earth-shattering affair…
He doesn’t want a woman in his life…
Quinlan must keep Grochaire Realm safe from the enemy at all costs. As ruler of his realm, a woman has no permanent place in his day-to-day existence. But when his lust takes him to Batya’s bedroom, he soon discovers he’s deep into a powerful experience that threatens to blow his life apart. He wants Batya with a feverish desire that makes no sense in his logical, warrior world. But when an ancient fae attacks Batya’s gallery, he launches into protector mode and soon finds himself embroiled -- body, soul, and fangs -- with a woman he’d only meant to bed a couple of times.
She has no desire to get involved with a mastyr vampire…
Batya’s intense desire for Mastyr Quinlan stuns and baffles her. She doesn’t want to be involved with the vampire on any level. His sole focus of ruling Grochaire Realm has kept him from staying with one woman longer than the proud length of his fangs. Besides, she’s built a life for herself in Lebanon, Tennessee as an artist and healer to the realm ex-patriot community. But when the ancient fae attacks Quinlan at her gallery, then attempts to kidnap her assistant, Batya finds herself catapulted into an astonishing adventure. Even so, she works steadily to get back to her free-clinic and her painting, but how can she leave Quinlan behind when he’s commanded her like no other man ever has?
Excerpt:
Chapter One: The opening. Mastyr Vampire Quinlan pursues a woman with one thought in mind…
What would she taste like, her skin, her mouth, her blood?
The question had many layers and burned like fire in Quinlan’s vampire mind as he leaned against a brick building in the old section of Lebanon, Tennessee. He stared up at a wide plate glass window on the other side of the street. His pursuit of Batya Cole had taken him away from Grochaire Realm way too often over the past couple of months, almost to the point of neglecting his duties as mastyr.
Yet, he couldn’t seem to help himself. Her blood called to him, like no woman before.
His instincts warned him away from the ex-patriot who lived a bohemian artist’s life in the small U.S. town, his realm’s access point to human earth. But she’d been on his radar for weeks now and he wanted her in his bed.
Nothing more.
And literally nothing less.
Once he set his sights on a goal, nothing could move him.
He pictured her now lying on her back, hands gripping the wrought iron headboard of her bed, the mass of her wavy blond hair spread out on her pillows.
He wanted to sink his fingers into her hair with both hands, lean close and smell all across the line of her cheek. He’d gotten near enough to her once to catch a fragrance that smelled deeply rich, like an exotic jungle flower. He didn’t have a name for her scent, but he wanted his tongue on her to find out every nuance of her deepest flavor.
He’d been seducing her for the past hour with just his telepathy and of course his mating vibration, a serious realm-ability he’d developed over the past seven-hundred-plus years of his life. His world was a land of frequencies and vibrations, all kinds, for a multitude of purposes.
He let loose another set of waves.
How does that feel, Cha?
He heard her moan, a soft whimper through the window.
Stop calling me that.
His telepathy with Batya rang clear as a bell, one more reason he knew they’d be good together. He’d be able to whisper her name through her mind while he kissed her and moved inside her, working his magic.
His realm vibration, the one that emanated from deep within his body, flowed in a stream straight up and through the second-story window. He loved his mastyr status in these moments, that he could do things most other vampires couldn’t. He could stand across the street and touch Batya low with just a thought and a vibrating stream of energy that had found the sweetest nest between her legs.
He added a jolt and heard her cry out. He extended his hearing so he could savor every whimper.
You should leave, Quinlan. Stop tormenting me.
Another jolt and again, she cried out. He liked punishing her with pleasure. That’s for telling me to leave. For the fun of it, he added another intense stream.
She sighed, purred and moaned, one after the other. He had her now. He’d bring her, like he did last time, but he wanted to get closer. He wanted to watch this time and he wanted her watching him. And this time, he’d let her see what he had to offer.
I want in, Batya. Now. We’ve been playing this game long enough. He increased the force of the vibration and she groaned long and loud.
This is a bad idea, Quinlan. She panted while she pathed to him. You know it is.
I don’t care. We’ll be good together.
He levitated and drifted across the street moving close to the window. He saw her through a haze of multicolored sheers so that she looked surrounded by ripples of golden, blue-violet light. He couldn’t see her clearly, but she writhed on the bed, her hands gripping the wrought iron bars just as he’d imagined.
I see you.
She rolled her head. You bastard. I never wanted this.
You didn’t have to let it get this far tonight.
Why did you come after me? You can have any woman in the Nine Realms you want and maybe a couple billion here on earth as well.
It’s all your fault. You shouldn’t have smelled so good when I trapped you in your gallery.
I can’t help how I smell.
And I can’t help how bad I want to bury myself between your legs. Besides, you refused me and I always face up to a challenge…
What would she taste like, her skin, her mouth, her blood?
The question had many layers and burned like fire in Quinlan’s vampire mind as he leaned against a brick building in the old section of Lebanon, Tennessee. He stared up at a wide plate glass window on the other side of the street. His pursuit of Batya Cole had taken him away from Grochaire Realm way too often over the past couple of months, almost to the point of neglecting his duties as mastyr.
Yet, he couldn’t seem to help himself. Her blood called to him, like no woman before.
His instincts warned him away from the ex-patriot who lived a bohemian artist’s life in the small U.S. town, his realm’s access point to human earth. But she’d been on his radar for weeks now and he wanted her in his bed.
Nothing more.
And literally nothing less.
Once he set his sights on a goal, nothing could move him.
He pictured her now lying on her back, hands gripping the wrought iron headboard of her bed, the mass of her wavy blond hair spread out on her pillows.
He wanted to sink his fingers into her hair with both hands, lean close and smell all across the line of her cheek. He’d gotten near enough to her once to catch a fragrance that smelled deeply rich, like an exotic jungle flower. He didn’t have a name for her scent, but he wanted his tongue on her to find out every nuance of her deepest flavor.
He’d been seducing her for the past hour with just his telepathy and of course his mating vibration, a serious realm-ability he’d developed over the past seven-hundred-plus years of his life. His world was a land of frequencies and vibrations, all kinds, for a multitude of purposes.
He let loose another set of waves.
How does that feel, Cha?
He heard her moan, a soft whimper through the window.
Stop calling me that.
His telepathy with Batya rang clear as a bell, one more reason he knew they’d be good together. He’d be able to whisper her name through her mind while he kissed her and moved inside her, working his magic.
His realm vibration, the one that emanated from deep within his body, flowed in a stream straight up and through the second-story window. He loved his mastyr status in these moments, that he could do things most other vampires couldn’t. He could stand across the street and touch Batya low with just a thought and a vibrating stream of energy that had found the sweetest nest between her legs.
He added a jolt and heard her cry out. He extended his hearing so he could savor every whimper.
You should leave, Quinlan. Stop tormenting me.
Another jolt and again, she cried out. He liked punishing her with pleasure. That’s for telling me to leave. For the fun of it, he added another intense stream.
She sighed, purred and moaned, one after the other. He had her now. He’d bring her, like he did last time, but he wanted to get closer. He wanted to watch this time and he wanted her watching him. And this time, he’d let her see what he had to offer.
I want in, Batya. Now. We’ve been playing this game long enough. He increased the force of the vibration and she groaned long and loud.
This is a bad idea, Quinlan. She panted while she pathed to him. You know it is.
I don’t care. We’ll be good together.
He levitated and drifted across the street moving close to the window. He saw her through a haze of multicolored sheers so that she looked surrounded by ripples of golden, blue-violet light. He couldn’t see her clearly, but she writhed on the bed, her hands gripping the wrought iron bars just as he’d imagined.
I see you.
She rolled her head. You bastard. I never wanted this.
You didn’t have to let it get this far tonight.
Why did you come after me? You can have any woman in the Nine Realms you want and maybe a couple billion here on earth as well.
It’s all your fault. You shouldn’t have smelled so good when I trapped you in your gallery.
I can’t help how I smell.
And I can’t help how bad I want to bury myself between your legs. Besides, you refused me and I always face up to a challenge…
Books In The Blood Rose Series:
Caris Roane has published nine paranormal novels and novellas and writing as Valerie King, fifty Regency works. In 2005, Romantic Times gave her a Career Achievement award in Regency Romance. As Caris Roane, she currently writes paranormal romance for St. Martin’s Press and also self-publishes the continuing stories for her Guardians of Ascension series as well as stories set in other worlds.
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