Can a vampire have an HEA, a happy-ever-after in his life? Well, the answer is complicated. Certain factors have to be in place, the planets have to aline just so, and the world must tilt on its axis. Yes, the fact a vampire has to rely on the fates for his romantic future is a puzzle. Many have tried to work out the ending, many have failed. Such a proclamation is not without its flaws or so the nay-sayers preach.
J.T. Leighton was a good soldier. He was a good Navy SEAL. He ran into a situation which altered his nature for all eternity. He’s come to grips with the idea, or so he thinks. Then, someone from his past shows up out of the blue. She’s a long drink of water with a talent for dance. No one had come close to stirring J.T. to wish for something more than a one-night-stand until Jessie Coulter came into his life. They’d share passion and a tender connection. Then she disappeared, literally in front of J.T.’s eyes.
Now, his days are filled with loneliness and his nights with murder at his own hands. J.T.’s a vampire killer with a hard-on for bad guys. Don’t blink or you might miss the rest of the tale. Blood & Magic releases on Valentine’s Day.
Oh, if you don’t mind, wish J.T. a Happy Valentine’s Day. It may be the only one he gets. Pre-order your copy today.
Excerpt from Blood & Magic, Book 3 of Shadow Company
She danced across the stage in a flutter of white netting over spandex. Her hair, pulled back in a severe bun held the blues of an inky night. Long and slender, she flowed with the music, each movement beginning and ending in the next. A leap into the air reminded J.T. of a gazelle. If only he could capture the moment, holding her so forever. In the dream, J.T. saw Jessie as she’d been almost two years before. She had been a beauty of exceptional poise and statue. The grace of her movements were compliments of her tall, lean curves. A ballerina – his ballerina.
J.T. sat up in the bed. Nerves rippled along his arms. Glancing at the clock, he snarled at the readout – three in the afternoon. Damn! Rubbing the tension in his neck, he flung his legs over the side of the bed. Too early to go out. He padded downstairs for a drink.
Trapped! He was a fucking prisoner in his own house when the past came calling. Snarling at the fact, he switched gears, shoving at the memories from years before. Her laughter caught him off guard. Glancing around just in case, he stilled. Her image flitted through his mind. J.T.’s maker, the damn Sultan, was up to his old tricks. J.T. would wager money on that idea. With the bag of chips under his arm, he headed back. Thank the gods he was allowed some small favors such as something other than pig’s blood to enjoy. With the glass of warmed blood in his hand, he wandered back up the stairs. He wanted to wallow in his memories of her, his Jessie.
No, he did not forget how he had come to meet her. A suspect in a crime of murder. No, he did not see her as a murderer or a psychopath. His job as a private investigator meant he sought the truth. In her case, the truth held his heart in the palm of her hand. She convinced him of two things in their short time together. Number one – that she was not the perpetrator. Number two – that despite being a vampire, he would move heaven and hell to keep her safe. The trouble with safe was he had no control over the realm in which the woman resided. In fact, he had no control over any realm or any condition. Only his existence in death. Glancing down at the glass, he realized he had finished the blood.
“Have you seen anyone who looked suspicious hanging around today, Zodiac?”
The cat rolled from sitting on his hind legs to resting on his side, before leaning into J.T.’s side. “Meow.”
“I’ll take that as a ‘no,’ Zodiac.” Getting back up, he prowled the room. Agitation, an old friend, appeared in not being unable to remain still for more than two minutes. “Blast it all to hell and back,” he groaned.
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