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| Fourth novel in the Sabrina Strong series due out in May 2014 |
About dang time...
--and I was thinking I need to give you all a preview, let you get to know the characters, or re-acquaint you with some of them. Because of the way I've written this book, you will get to see inside my main characters, Vasyl, Bill, Tremayne, and Rick, the leprechaun, plus a few more as well.
Today let us take a look at Bjorn Tremayne. You know, he's become a rogue? And his scrambling to keep whatever wealth he has left from being frozen by the new master of the realm. Well, let us just have a peek, shall we? Bjorn has just come back from his night of feeding. He's managed to talk/scare Sabrina into coming with him, in order to stay ahead of demons who are after her (she has a bounty on her head).
“So,
you didn't answer me. How did your night go? Or do I want to know?”
Rick said from his spot on the couch, feet on the coffee table. He
turned down the volume of the television with the remote.
Bjorn
shot a frown at the leprechaun's feet, then softened. This wasn't his
place... Why
should I give a fuck if Rick is comfortable?
“It
was nearly a bust,” he said on a heavy sigh, running thick fingers
through his hair. He paused near the kitchenette. Frustration from
the need to feed and have sex with the woman he'd captured—but
couldn't because all hell had let loose—had him wanting to rage on
someone, and the only available person was the leprechaun. Could
life suck more right now?
Brown
eyes stared up at him. Leprechauns and vampires did not mix well. His
decision to bring Rick along at all was because he was the only
magical creature he could cajole and bribe to do what he needed. So
far, things were going fine. He reminded himself it would take time.
Rick
flicked off the TV. “Really? Why? What happened?”
Bjorn
stared a few more seconds at him. Making up his mind to tell him, he
walked over and settled into an arm chair. Leaning forward, fingers
laced between his knees he said, “You ever hear of someone named
Priscus?”
“No.
What is that? A man or a woman?” Rick asked, frowning.
“A
man. Or he looks to be a man, but what he is exactly, I don't know.”
“Wow.
No kidding? But no, never heard of any one by that name.”
“How
about an albino?”
“An
albino?” Rick drew his feet off the coffee table and sat up with a
concerned look on his face. His feet couldn't quite reach the floor
and hung about four inches above the green carpet.
“Does
that ring any bells?”
“What
was he? Another vampire?”
“No.
Not precisely. Not like me, anyway. He wanted to know if I was going
to drain the woman I'd captured.”
“Why?
Did he want to share?”
“No.
Not in the way a vampire shares a meal. He said he was going to feed
on her life force—I took it to mean her soul. He wanted to know if
I was going to drain her so that he could feed on her soul.”
“Holy
crap!”
Bjorn
rubbed the back of his neck, long blond hair falling down into his
face until he tossed it back. “And then, when someone came along,
he vanished.” He shook his head. “I've never met up with anything
like him before. He moved faster than a vampire. Even I
couldn't see when he moved from one position to the next. So, most of
the time, he held very still, as though he wanted me to be able to
see and speak to him.”
“Wow.”
“You've
never heard of such a thing?”
“No,
but I can make some calls in the morning,” Rick said.
Bjorn
nodded. “I'll take watch. You go and get some sleep. In the
morning, you take Sabrina over to that restaurant and get some
breakfast. I'll leave some cash for you for meals and buy something
at the gift shop, if you want.”
“Alright.”
Rick slowly slid off the couch. “You have some destination in mind?
I mean we aren't just wandering nomads, are we?”
“I'm
working on that,” Bjorn said. “I'll let you know. For now, just
get some sleep. You're on duty all day tomorrow.”
“Right.
Good night,” Rick said as he slipped off the couch. He made his way
across the room.
“'Night.”
Bjorn
sat back in the chair, wondering where Nicolas was at the moment. In
his own suite, he supposed, in his robe and either drinking Real Red,
or had one of his paramours handy.
“Five
of her very elite arrived today.”
“Five?
All vampires?”
“Yes.”
“Do
we know them?”
“One
of them is J.C. Durmont. The others are lesser in rank, but
notoriously deadly.”
Bjorn's
lips curled. JC Durmont was a heavy in his brother's select sentinel.
A 215 year old vampire who was—had
been—his brother's right hand man. He stood six-seven, looked like
an ogre, and was built like an oak door—he was the same thickness
from his huge feet to his huge head. One thick brow caterpillared
across a heavy brow. What he lacked in intelligence he more than made
up in brutish strength. Automatically, the memory of the one time
he'd challenged JC to a sparring match to see what he was made of
came to the forefront. The bastard had nearly killed him—he was
enormously strong and had Tremayne pinned with his razor-like teeth
embedded into his chest (for some reason the idiot like to bite the
chest—which was the only thing that had saved Tremayne—his teeth
would have sawed his head off if he'd bitten him in the neck), and
Erik, who controlled JC, held off telling the ogre to stop, just to
prolong his embarrassment, and teach him a “lesson” in who had
the stronger sentinels. Tremayne had to cry uncle before Erik would
call his dog off.
JC
was Ilona's lap dog now. How
the hell had this happened?
“This
is not good news,” Bjorn said out loud.
“She
is calling you an outlaw,” Nicolas added. “She's making it a
public statement to the Powers that Be.”
“Well,
fuck.” Tremayne shifted in his chair. To be labeled an outlaw meant
that she had the right to legally—within vampire law—freeze his
assets (those in the United States). He would have to act and fast.
“What
is it you wish to do, Sire?”
Tremayne
closed his eyes and breathed out, counting to ten. It helped to hold
back the scream of rage he wanted to make. He didn't want to wake or
alarm his companions. “You remain stationed as you are. I'm going
ahead with plan A.” As he had been doing, and so far everything was
going smoothly.
“Is
she
with you?”
“Yes.
Of course.” Tremayne's brow flicked slightly at the way Nicolas had
avoided using her name. So, Nicolas no longer brooded over the sibyl.
Sabrina was now a “she” to him. Had he written her off that
easily? I
wonder.
For Nicolas to become worked up about any female—human or
vampire—was unusual. But then she was
the sibyl. Nicolas had desired Sabrina to be his, before they knew
what she was. Tremayne wanted Sabrina, and denied Nicolas to make any
move on her. Once Tremayne learned she was the sibyl—well, only a
master could rightfully claim her. The fact that Vasyl had swooped in
before Tremayne was a big annoyance. So, he'd concocted a plan. So
far the plan had worked. Getting Vasyl away from the house, using a
distraction, had been his idea from the beginning. No need to involve
anyone, except his minions who did his bidding.
“How
did you get her away from him?”
Nicolas asked, pulling Tremayne out of his thoughts.
“Sent
in my sentinels.”
“All
of them?”
“Of
course. Vasyl is as strong as I.” He knew that a few of his minions
had given their lives for him, which is part of a sentinel's job. It
was enough of a distraction to hold Vasyl at bay, while Tremayne took
Sabrina away. Three had perished—he'd gotten a text earlier about
it—that left him with ten in his sentential. They had done their
job.
~*~
A
yawn escaped Bjorn, and he closed his cell phone. The drive had been
tedious, and now these last minute details to take care of, trying to
avoid being left penniless when Ilona worked toward a take-over
because he was deemed a “rogue”, had drained him the rest of the
way. A nap was long overdue.
Long
steps took him into the hall. He paused, looking down the hall where
his two humans bunked. Correction, one leprechaun, and one V.I.P. Was
she was asleep?
He closed his eyes, reached out and was able to ascertain she was
into REM. Good. I
came too close. Too damned close.
He had to stay away from her—not touch her like that again. At
least not yet. He had to keep telling himself her blood was
off-limits, as much as he longed for it.
How
he would do that, while sitting right next to her, as he drove
eight-hundred miles, and not want her so badly he could go mad, was
beyond him.
Well, you see what I mean? He's getting in a little deeper as he goes along. Sabrina's blood is something he can't keep his mind off of--well, that and having sex with her, something he has been wanting to address for a long, long while, and he thinks he's got a perfect plan. Do you wonder if he can have his way with her, and not kill her, this time? Not only that, he will have to out-wit the Mystic Ring, which can thwart most vampire thralls. Hmmmm....
Vampire Caprice will be out this month--we are crossing our fingers!
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