A vampire has been influencing her life path. #paranormal #romance via @mayatylerauthor
Cover links to Amazon.com | A Vampire's Tale Author: Maya Tyler Genre/Keyword(s): Romance, Paranormal, Vampire, |
A Vampire’s Tale focuses on heroine Marisa Clements who is a struggling writer. Unknown to her, a paranormal skeptic, a vampire has been influencing her life path. This is not any ordinary vampire. Corgan Halton is ancient and powerful with the ability to see the future.
He wants to tell his story and end his life. He chooses Marisa to author his tale. But his presence in her life puts her into danger, the helpless target for Corgan's enemies. It takes a coordinated group (of wizards and vampires) effort to fight the enemy. During the progression of the story, Marisa and Corgan fall in love - the emotions intensified by the high-pressure, dangerous situation they find themselves in.
He wants to tell his story and end his life. He chooses Marisa to author his tale. But his presence in her life puts her into danger, the helpless target for Corgan's enemies. It takes a coordinated group (of wizards and vampires) effort to fight the enemy. During the progression of the story, Marisa and Corgan fall in love - the emotions intensified by the high-pressure, dangerous situation they find themselves in.
Cupping her chin in his hand, he tilted her head upward. “Am I too close for
comfort?”
His proximity did funny things to her stomach. Beyond the usual nervous butterflies, she felt like she had a whole slew of acrobats jumping around in there. Too close for comfort? Absolutely.
He relocated her forcibly from her comfort zone. So, she hadn't left her place lately, other than the occasional run for groceries or coffee; she worked at home. She wrote for a living, and that certainly was not a predictable career. It required a certain amount of imagination and persistence. Plus, it was fun. Writing sci-fi was like vacationing in another world, or something like that, all the time.
“So, I become absorbed in my writing and don’t leave my apartment for days.” Or weeks. “It doesn’t bother me. I’m not really a ‘people’ person. I work at home. I like working at home.”
“Who are you trying to convince, Marisa?”
She had no clue. Time and sense flew out the proverbial window when he leaned in closer.
“This is a bad idea, for more reasons than I'd care to count. What does it matter? I'm already going to hell.”
His lips met hers. Grabbing her shoulders, he crushed her against his body.
Rainbows, lollipops, and sugar cream pie! Oh, my! He tasted like delicious darkness, all her favorites rolled up into one tight package. Giving herself fully to his kiss, all the tension in her body seeped out. Better than a chemical detox, kissing him made her feel renewed and refreshed. She didn't need to breathe; he supplied her with a lifeline.
He released her lips, still holding her shoulders firmly in place.
Busted. That was the trouble with being a writer. Having the compulsion to overdescribe everything. “What?”
“Never make that mistake, Marisa. There is no life in me.”
His proximity did funny things to her stomach. Beyond the usual nervous butterflies, she felt like she had a whole slew of acrobats jumping around in there. Too close for comfort? Absolutely.
He relocated her forcibly from her comfort zone. So, she hadn't left her place lately, other than the occasional run for groceries or coffee; she worked at home. She wrote for a living, and that certainly was not a predictable career. It required a certain amount of imagination and persistence. Plus, it was fun. Writing sci-fi was like vacationing in another world, or something like that, all the time.
“So, I become absorbed in my writing and don’t leave my apartment for days.” Or weeks. “It doesn’t bother me. I’m not really a ‘people’ person. I work at home. I like working at home.”
“Who are you trying to convince, Marisa?”
She had no clue. Time and sense flew out the proverbial window when he leaned in closer.
“This is a bad idea, for more reasons than I'd care to count. What does it matter? I'm already going to hell.”
His lips met hers. Grabbing her shoulders, he crushed her against his body.
Rainbows, lollipops, and sugar cream pie! Oh, my! He tasted like delicious darkness, all her favorites rolled up into one tight package. Giving herself fully to his kiss, all the tension in her body seeped out. Better than a chemical detox, kissing him made her feel renewed and refreshed. She didn't need to breathe; he supplied her with a lifeline.
He released her lips, still holding her shoulders firmly in place.
Busted. That was the trouble with being a writer. Having the compulsion to overdescribe everything. “What?”
“Never make that mistake, Marisa. There is no life in me.”
