A timeless seduction. A unique temptation. And a whole world of dark desires…
The Darkest Angel
by New York Times bestselling author Gena Showalter
Winged warrior Lysander has been alive for centuries, and yet he’s never known desire-until he meets Bianka. Spawned from the bloodline of his enemy, the beautiful but deadly Harpy is determined to lead the untouched Lysander into temptation. He may try to evade her attempts, but even the most iron-willed demon assassin can resist for only so long….
From debut author Kait Ballenger
Vampire hunter Damon Brock’s first assignment with the Execution Underground is Rochester, New York, a city crawling with the undead. But he isn’t the only hunter in town gunning for vamp blood. Tiffany Solow is fierce and ruthless when it comes to slaying the monsters that destroyed her family-and she works solo. But being alone is no longer so desirable when she meets the mysterious hunter who wants more than just her turf. As they work to massacre the local covens, the line between good and evil blurs when they are forced to decide between their lifelong beliefs… and their newfound hearts.
An except from Darkest Angel by Gena Showlater:
“What are you wearing? Or better yet, not wearing?”
Heart skidding to a stop, Bianka whipped around. As if her thoughts had summoned him, the angel Lysander stood in the room’s doorway. Mist enveloped him and for a moment she feared he was nothing more than a fantasy.
“Well?” he demanded.
But in her fantasies, he would not be angry. He would be overcome with desire. So…he was here, and he was real. And he was peering at her breasts in open-mouthed astonishment. Astonishment was better than anger. She almost grinned.
“Don’t you like it?” she asked, smoothing her palms over her hips. Let the games begin.
Like it, she finished for him. With the amount of truth that always layered his voice, he probably couldn’t utter a single lie.
“Your skin…it’s different. I mean, I saw the pearlesque tones before, but now…it’s…”
“Amazing.” She twirled, her see-through gown dancing at her ankles. “I know.”
“You know?” His tongue traced his teeth as the anger she’d first suspected glazed his features. “Cover her,” he barked.
A moment later, a white robe draped her from shoulders to feet.
She scowled. “Return my teddy.” The robe disappeared, leaving her in the white lace. “Try that again,” she told him, “and I’ll just walk around naked. You know, like I am in the portraits.”
“Portraits?” Brow furrowing, he gazed about the room.
When he spotted one of the pictures of her, sans clothing, reclining against a giant silver boulder, he hissed in a breath. Exactly the reaction she’d been hoping for. “I hope you don’t mind, but I turned this quaint little cloud into a love
nest so I’d feel more at home. And again, if you remove anything, my redesign will be a thousand times worse.”
“What are you trying to do to me?” he growled, facing her.
An except from Shadow Hunter by Kait Ballenger:
DAMON STORMED THROUGH the kitchen, shoving his way into the restaurant. The smells of simmering white wine and melted cheeses invaded his nose. Shouts echoed behind him. An angry cook yelled as he passed, “You can’t come in here!”
Not a surprising reaction to a man in a ski mask. He ignored them all and kept going.
At the sight of him, a woman in his path spilled a large vat of what appeared to be pea soup. The liquid splashed over the steel toes of his boots.
But he didn’t care—nothing would stop him from finding Tiffany. When he heard the panic button sound, her safety became his sole mission.
He burst into the restaurant. His eyes darted across the room. Shit. Where was she? His line of vision followed a waiter as he walked past a back hallway. She had to be in a private room. Damon slipped through the crowded room as fast as he could, before he bolted down the hallway. A faint whimpering sound carried through the only door. Something inside him snapped.
Pulling his gun from his belt, he wrenched the door open, stepped to the side and aimed, making sure Tiffany wasn’t in the line of fire. He squeezed the trigger. The mix of music and voices from the main dining room drowned out the muffled shot. Silencers were a hunter’s blessing.
Caius’s body jolted before he spun to face Damon. Tiffany fell to the floor, gasping for air. A small trickle of blood ran down her neck from where Caius’s fingernails had dug into her skin as he choked her. Rage coursed through Damon at the sight. A loud snarl ripped from his throat. Caius would die.
He fired another shot straight into the ancient bloodsucker’s chest, blowing a massive hole in Caius’s body, but at Caius’s age, the skin and organs knitted together again in seconds. Damon tucked his gun away, and ripped a silver dagger and his wooden stake from his jacket.
Fangs already down, Caius hissed, and the two of them charged each other. They collided at full speed, meeting each other blow for blow. A normal man stood no chance against a vampire as old as Caius, but gifted with the speed and strength of his Execution Underground training, Damon held his own. Anger and rage fueled his every move.
No vampire hurt Tiffany and lived. None.