Excerpt
“I’m a monster, Lilah.”
“What?” I whispered.
“I’m a werewolf vampire. I exist on human blood. I can tear a man’s head off and I have. I’m a monster.”
“You—”
“I am,” he stated flatly. “And the first chance I’ve had in all my years to understand why I am as I am is to go to that fuckin’ hotel.”
I stared at him, then straightened my body so I was fully facing him. This caused his jaw to get hard again, but I ignored that and stated, “Okay, let’s break this down.”
“Nothin’ to break down.”
“Humor me,” I snapped, his head jerked, and his lips curved up.
“Carry on,” he muttered.
“Thanks,” I bit out. “First, how many men’s heads have you torn off?”
“Four, and two wolves.”
“That’s it?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“These being the night we met,” I stated.
“Yeah,” he repeated.
“The night some of them were trying to kill me and the others were trying to kill you.”
To that he said nothing.
I kept going, “So you haven’t torn off unsuspecting citizens’ heads willy-nilly, for the fuck of it, or on a psychotic rampage?”
He pressed his lips together and I knew it was to hide his humor because his eyes lit with it before he unpressed them to say, “No.”
“Right,” I said sharply. “Have you ever had a psychotic rampage?”
He shook his head.
“So let’s get to the human blood part,” I suggested. “When you were,” I paused, “drawing from one of your ex-bitches, did you ever kill one of them?”
“Fuck no.”
“Take too much and make them sick?”
“No.”
“Do it against anyone’s will?”
His eyes went guarded, but he said, “No.”
I threw up a hand. “Okay, so what’s the problem?”
He blinked, straightening in his chair, but again said nothing.
“I mean, seriously,” I went on, “I’ve seen lots of vampire movies and TV shows and even the good vamps screw up and overindulge. Hell, Jessica killed three fairies in a ravenous attack. She might have had her issues as a young vampire, but by that time, she was full-on good.”
His brows shot together. “Fairies?”
“Fairies.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
I threw up both hands and cried in exasperation, “True Blood!”
“Jesus, Lilah,” he muttered.
“No, seriously, Jessica is very sweet.”
“For fuck’s sake,” he growled, sounding like he was losing patience, which I didn’t figure was a good thing.
“Okay, back on track,” I began. “Tell me. Tell me one instance in your life where you actually behaved like a monster.”
“I wanna fuck you,” he snarled.
I stared.
“Yeah,” he ground out. “I wanna fuck you, Delilah. Consumed with the need and I have no idea why, but I can guess, seein’ as it’s like you’re a bitch in heat, I’m a dog that catches the scent and his mind is wiped…wiped of anything…but the need to mount you and”—he leaned forward—“rut.”
“Holy fuck,” I breathed.
“Yeah,” he said again. “That make you feel safe?”
“Abel—”
“I can smell your fear.”
I swallowed.
“It turns me on,” he kept going. “Makes me wanna tear into your throat and fuck you and feed from you. Now, does that make you feel safe?”
“No,” I whispered, because it really fucking didn’t.
“Right. No,” he bit off. “So I’m not a monster?”
About the Author
Kristen Ashley was born in Gary, Indiana, USA. She nearly killed her mother and herself making it into the world, seeing as she had the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck (already attempting to accessorise and she hadn't taken her first breath!).
Kristen grew up in Brownsburg, Indiana but has lived in Denver, Colorado and the West Country of England. Thus she has been blessed to have friends and family around the globe. Her posse is loopy (to say the least) but loopy is good when you want to write.
Kristen was raised in a house with a large and multi-generational family. They lived on a very small farm in a small town in the heartland and existed amongst the strains of Glenn Miller, The Everly Brothers, REO Speedwagon and Whitesnake (and the wardrobes that matched).
Needless to say, growing up in a house full of music, clothes and love was a good way to grow up.
And as she keeps growing up, it keeps getting better.