In Dianne Duvall's world of Immortal Guardians, the stakes for mortals are high, but the cost-especially to the heart-might be higher...It's not the first time Immortal Guardian Richart d'Alencon has saved a human life from eternal damnation. Usually, he moves on, a nameless savior like a ghost in the night. But this time he can't seem to forget the woman who rewarded him with a sensuous kiss after he rescued her from a trio of vampires. While Richart knows that loving a human can only bring trouble, the taste of forbidden lust is too great to resist...
Jenna never imagined she'd end up a single mom working overtime to put her son through school. But she might have daydreamed once that a devastatingly gorgeous Frenchman would sweep her off her feet. Now that a package of tall, dark, and handsome seems intent on doing just that, doctors are telling her she may not have long to live. But Richart is telling her just the opposite. All she has to do is abandon her humanity...
Includes a special sneak peek of NIGHT UNBOUND
Excerpt
Richart stumbled backward and wrapped his arms around the woman to keep her from falling.
Clinging to the front of his shirt, she buried her face in his chest. “Is he gone?”
“Yes,” he responded, surprised she was so coherent. When vampires and immortals turned, glands formed above the retractable fangs they grew that released a chemical much like GHB under the pressure of a bite. So she should be slurring her words.
Hell, he was surprised she still stood. “What about the others?”
“They’re gone,” he assured her. Or they would be soon. A quick glance confirmed that they were shriveling up like mummies as the virus, unable to heal their wounds fast enough to keep them from dying, devoured them from the inside out in a desperate bid to live. By the time it finished, nothing would remain of them save the clothing and jewelry they wore.
Weaving on her feet, the woman straightened and looked up at him. She couldn’t be much more than five feet tall and he was six foot one. “Y-your eyes are glowing.”
Her pupils were dilated, blocking out almost all of the pale green, leaving only a few flakes of brown.
Richart retracted his fangs. “Yes. I know it looks bad, but—”
She shook her head. “I think they’re beautiful.”
Was that the drug talking? Or did she really think so?
“You saved me,” she said, awe and gratitude in her melodic voice. Loosening her death grip on his shirt, she cupped his face in both hands.
His heart skipped.
When was the last time a woman had touched his face so tenderly?
When was the last time a woman had touched him at all? Other than his sister punching him in the shoulder, doing her damnedest to kick his ass when they sparred, or doling out a hug here or there, he honestly couldn’t remember.
“Thank you,” the woman whispered. Rising onto her toes, she drew his head down and brushed her lips against his.
The contact hit him like an electrical shock. His heart began to pound as she tilted her head and increased the pressure, brushing, stroking. She combed her fingers through his short, black hair, sending shivers through him.
He parted his lips, met her tongue with his when she boldly thrust hers forward.
Pure heat.
She leaned into him, clutched him tighter.
His body hardened. His breath shortened. His arms tightened around her.
Her knees went limp. Her lips tore away from his as her head fell back. Her eyes closed. Her mouth hung open, lips pink from kissing him.
Richart stared down at her as his pulse pounded in his ears.
Yeah. She was out.
Thanks for hosting Dianne today.
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