The Guardians of Dacia Series
Romania has been called the mystical land of paranormal beings and creatures of the night. Before the Romans conquered their land, Dacia was a mystical land of magic and folk-lore until one man and his army destroyed the closely woven fabric set by the gods between man and beast. Now, cursed by their gods over two thousand years ago, one immortal clan struggles to maintain their private world while still learning to live and protect their human brethren while their enemy seeks power to destroy the new world.
But as the clans face extinction, a new generation of Dacian blood emerges to unite the clans once more. The world as they know it may never be the same. The Guardians of Dacia Book #4
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The fourth book in the Guardians of Dacia series is out on Amazon Kindle. This is Jack and Pamela's book in which they share something very precious...and dangerous to an ancient Immortal Clan? Silence may be golden for some, for a young girl born of immortal love, it will take the Blue Moon to break her out of her Immortal Silence.
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Immortal Angel
Book #3 in the Guardians of Dacia series
Released: April 2015
The third book in the Guardians of Dacia series, Immortal Angel is out and available on Kindle, Nook, Kobo and Apple. In the next few weeks I will be announcing the release of the paperback versions of Immortal Wounds and Immortal Angel under my self-publishing house, Spiridus Publishing and with the help of CreateSpace.
Release Date: February 16, 2015
A Guardians of Dacia Novella:
Immortal Wounds
Ain’t No Sunshine When She’s Gone…
Vietnam never stopped for Mike Linder—and it never will. As an immortal being, Mike is doomed to face his issues of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder he suffered in combat for eternity. The darkness in the seventy year old vampire is swept away by the sweet spirited Christina Johnston who he is called upon by his boss to protect from clan enemies. But keeping his sunshine around would only lead to extinguishing her light, permanently.
His Sunshine…His Only Sunshine…
Tina Johnston always believes the glass is half full. The eternal optimist, she wants to help Mike find the peace from his horrors of war and she believes she’s the one to give it to him. Unfortunately, Mike won’t let her. Haunted by his past and suffering terrors mixed with his present, is she strong enough to endure his tortured past? Can she heal his Immortal Wounds?
Rated R—Language, graphic combat scenes, spicy sex.
Immortal Wounds
Ain’t No Sunshine When She’s Gone…
Vietnam never stopped for Mike Linder—and it never will. As an immortal being, Mike is doomed to face his issues of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder he suffered in combat for eternity. The darkness in the seventy year old vampire is swept away by the sweet spirited Christina Johnston who he is called upon by his boss to protect from clan enemies. But keeping his sunshine around would only lead to extinguishing her light, permanently.
His Sunshine…His Only Sunshine…
Tina Johnston always believes the glass is half full. The eternal optimist, she wants to help Mike find the peace from his horrors of war and she believes she’s the one to give it to him. Unfortunately, Mike won’t let her. Haunted by his past and suffering terrors mixed with his present, is she strong enough to endure his tortured past? Can she heal his Immortal Wounds?
Rated R—Language, graphic combat scenes, spicy sex.
Release Date: October 2014
Book One of The Guardians of Dacia:
Immortal Heat
Marilyn Reddlin is eager to explore her adventure working with an esteemed professor on Ancient Dacian History in Romania. But she never gets the chance. Captured for her own safety by a dark haired stranger who can hear her thoughts and set her body on fire, she's taken on a wild adventure of paranormal mystery and intrigue. Usually shy, suddenly she craves the man who captured her body and soul.
After centuries of waiting to repay his friend, Draylon Conier is finally given the opportunity when his friend and clan leader assigns him to keep American, college student, Marilyn Reddlin safe. The task seems easy enough. But Draylon doesn’t expect the fiery auburn minx to fight him at every turn and make him wish he didn't have to deny himself of her heated touch.
But Draylon is more than an immortal being. He is the last remaining Zmeu and no woman has been able to survive his unleashed passion and he'll be damned if he destroys Marilyn Reddlin.
Now it's up to them to figure out who they are and what the truth is behind the clans’ interests in Marilyn Reddlin. But will finding out the truth create a new beginning for the immortal people of Dacia or totally destroy their world as they know it?
Excerpt:
The server rolled out a dessert tray, and Marilyn automatically possessed room for the piece of decadent Belgian-chocolate cake whispering her name. She couldn’t pass up the temptation. Besides, it was only a sliver of cake. She needed something to absorb all the wine. The rich chocolate would complement the merlot and appease her craving.
The first bite hit her taste buds with the smooth, sinful flavor of Belgian chocolate- ganache. Marilyn sighed blissfully and closed her eyes, allowing the sweetness to pleasure her senses as she dragged the fork through her lips to capture every last molecule of taste.
Upon opening her eyes she saw a man sitting at her table, staring at her. She inhaled a crumb of chocolate cake, setting her to cough. Marilyn tried to breathe as her eyes watered behind her spectacles. The man handed her the water goblet and their fingers touched. Trembling at the jolt of electricity shooting through her hand, Marilyn took a sip to clear her throat.
She picked up the subtle scent of the amber and musk she’d noticed in the airport. Was it him? Was he spying on her?
He didn’t blink. His electric blue gaze bore into her soul. Small tremors of the fear her mother had addressed for years came running back, but she sat immobilized, staring back at him.
Dressed all in black, his raven hair blended in with the black leather of his jacket and turtleneck shirt. Those blue eyes caught fire from the reflection of candle light between them. Little bubbles of sensual awareness boiled within her bloodstream, and her mouth went dry as if the cake she’d been eating left behind a sawdust residue. She tried to laugh away the nervousness, but what came out was more of a croak. “I think you have the wrong seat,” she said in broken Romanian.
“You have to leave,” he said.
He spoke in perfect, modern English with a hint of accent. She wasn’t sure what kind. You have to leave, her mind echoed. She shook her head at the distracting sound of his voice. Like the Belgian chocolate ganache, the thick tenor drizzled delicious intent that could make a woman fantasize about what that voice would sound like whispering rich, sweet words into her ear. She needed to stop drinking red wine. It made her think silly things.
What would her mother do in a situation like this? With the stiffened spine she’d learned from Diane Reddlin, she met his gaze—difficult as it was to look into his eyes without melting. “This is my table. You are the one who needs to leave.” She took another bite of her cake as if he weren’t there. Whether the cake was more acceptable to bite into than he was would be a matter of decorum, but she bet he would taste yummy.
Hands joined in a single fist planted on the table, he leaned forward until his face was mere inches from hers. He studied her every move as she ate. The intensity should have unnerved her, and yet a wine induced boldness hit her, coupled with a determination to put him in his place, whoever he was. His good looks and dark, sensual appeal could only mean trouble.
The flickering candlelight created shadows along his jaw line, making him appear even more mysterious. His elegant European nose flared, the muscles in his jaw flexed. The mixed scent of the aroma she’d been alerted to at the airport and leather from his jacket again hit her senses. As much as she tried to fight her feminine instincts, her inner woman wasn’t cooperating. Her nipples hardened, and a quiver started in her core. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
“You are in danger, Marilyn Reddlin. Leave now. . . before it’s too late.”
Those eyes penetrated straight through to her soul. She hoped to God he didn’t know what her body was saying. Then his words and the fact he’d just addressed her by her name hit her like a bucket of icy water. She shook off the strange enchantment.
“Who are you? How do you know my name?”
“That’s my business. Now, leave Romania…tonight.”
Marilyn sat stunned, fighting the commanding lilt of his voice. There was an odd, suggestive pull. She fought it but he’d already left. She hadn’t seen him get up. But when she looked, he’d walked out of the restaurant into the hotel lobby towards the entrance.
A few moments later she grabbed his hand, halting him. His eyes flared up at her, and then down to where her hand had attached itself to his wrist. She stopped and realized she didn’t remember how she’d gotten from the table to being outside, trying to stop his departure. But here she was. They stared at each other for a moment, both astounded at the circumstances.
He jerked his hand from her touch and popped the collar on his jacket, glaring at her before walking away.
You will leave.
Did she just hear his voice in her mind or had he said that aloud? His back was to her, so she wasn’t sure. She shook her head to get the sound of his voice out of her senses. This was too bizarre.
Like hell I’ll leave, asshole, she thought while staring after him. Who did he think he was? Had her mother put him up to this?
Stopping dead in his tracks, he slowly turned around. Marilyn stood her ground, her hands fisted on her hips in defiance. Did she hear him curse? That was impossible, his lips hadn’t moved, and they were now a parking lot away from each other.
A logistics truck pulled up through the circular entrance of the hotel, blocking her view, before driving away. When the view was clear, her mystery man had disappeared into the night, leaving only the echo of his warning behind in her head. She walked back to the dining room puzzled over the man’s audacity.
She’d be damned before she turned tail and ran back home to Mama.
Immortal Heat
Marilyn Reddlin is eager to explore her adventure working with an esteemed professor on Ancient Dacian History in Romania. But she never gets the chance. Captured for her own safety by a dark haired stranger who can hear her thoughts and set her body on fire, she's taken on a wild adventure of paranormal mystery and intrigue. Usually shy, suddenly she craves the man who captured her body and soul.
After centuries of waiting to repay his friend, Draylon Conier is finally given the opportunity when his friend and clan leader assigns him to keep American, college student, Marilyn Reddlin safe. The task seems easy enough. But Draylon doesn’t expect the fiery auburn minx to fight him at every turn and make him wish he didn't have to deny himself of her heated touch.
But Draylon is more than an immortal being. He is the last remaining Zmeu and no woman has been able to survive his unleashed passion and he'll be damned if he destroys Marilyn Reddlin.
Now it's up to them to figure out who they are and what the truth is behind the clans’ interests in Marilyn Reddlin. But will finding out the truth create a new beginning for the immortal people of Dacia or totally destroy their world as they know it?
Excerpt:
The server rolled out a dessert tray, and Marilyn automatically possessed room for the piece of decadent Belgian-chocolate cake whispering her name. She couldn’t pass up the temptation. Besides, it was only a sliver of cake. She needed something to absorb all the wine. The rich chocolate would complement the merlot and appease her craving.
The first bite hit her taste buds with the smooth, sinful flavor of Belgian chocolate- ganache. Marilyn sighed blissfully and closed her eyes, allowing the sweetness to pleasure her senses as she dragged the fork through her lips to capture every last molecule of taste.
Upon opening her eyes she saw a man sitting at her table, staring at her. She inhaled a crumb of chocolate cake, setting her to cough. Marilyn tried to breathe as her eyes watered behind her spectacles. The man handed her the water goblet and their fingers touched. Trembling at the jolt of electricity shooting through her hand, Marilyn took a sip to clear her throat.
She picked up the subtle scent of the amber and musk she’d noticed in the airport. Was it him? Was he spying on her?
He didn’t blink. His electric blue gaze bore into her soul. Small tremors of the fear her mother had addressed for years came running back, but she sat immobilized, staring back at him.
Dressed all in black, his raven hair blended in with the black leather of his jacket and turtleneck shirt. Those blue eyes caught fire from the reflection of candle light between them. Little bubbles of sensual awareness boiled within her bloodstream, and her mouth went dry as if the cake she’d been eating left behind a sawdust residue. She tried to laugh away the nervousness, but what came out was more of a croak. “I think you have the wrong seat,” she said in broken Romanian.
“You have to leave,” he said.
He spoke in perfect, modern English with a hint of accent. She wasn’t sure what kind. You have to leave, her mind echoed. She shook her head at the distracting sound of his voice. Like the Belgian chocolate ganache, the thick tenor drizzled delicious intent that could make a woman fantasize about what that voice would sound like whispering rich, sweet words into her ear. She needed to stop drinking red wine. It made her think silly things.
What would her mother do in a situation like this? With the stiffened spine she’d learned from Diane Reddlin, she met his gaze—difficult as it was to look into his eyes without melting. “This is my table. You are the one who needs to leave.” She took another bite of her cake as if he weren’t there. Whether the cake was more acceptable to bite into than he was would be a matter of decorum, but she bet he would taste yummy.
Hands joined in a single fist planted on the table, he leaned forward until his face was mere inches from hers. He studied her every move as she ate. The intensity should have unnerved her, and yet a wine induced boldness hit her, coupled with a determination to put him in his place, whoever he was. His good looks and dark, sensual appeal could only mean trouble.
The flickering candlelight created shadows along his jaw line, making him appear even more mysterious. His elegant European nose flared, the muscles in his jaw flexed. The mixed scent of the aroma she’d been alerted to at the airport and leather from his jacket again hit her senses. As much as she tried to fight her feminine instincts, her inner woman wasn’t cooperating. Her nipples hardened, and a quiver started in her core. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
“You are in danger, Marilyn Reddlin. Leave now. . . before it’s too late.”
Those eyes penetrated straight through to her soul. She hoped to God he didn’t know what her body was saying. Then his words and the fact he’d just addressed her by her name hit her like a bucket of icy water. She shook off the strange enchantment.
“Who are you? How do you know my name?”
“That’s my business. Now, leave Romania…tonight.”
Marilyn sat stunned, fighting the commanding lilt of his voice. There was an odd, suggestive pull. She fought it but he’d already left. She hadn’t seen him get up. But when she looked, he’d walked out of the restaurant into the hotel lobby towards the entrance.
A few moments later she grabbed his hand, halting him. His eyes flared up at her, and then down to where her hand had attached itself to his wrist. She stopped and realized she didn’t remember how she’d gotten from the table to being outside, trying to stop his departure. But here she was. They stared at each other for a moment, both astounded at the circumstances.
He jerked his hand from her touch and popped the collar on his jacket, glaring at her before walking away.
You will leave.
Did she just hear his voice in her mind or had he said that aloud? His back was to her, so she wasn’t sure. She shook her head to get the sound of his voice out of her senses. This was too bizarre.
Like hell I’ll leave, asshole, she thought while staring after him. Who did he think he was? Had her mother put him up to this?
Stopping dead in his tracks, he slowly turned around. Marilyn stood her ground, her hands fisted on her hips in defiance. Did she hear him curse? That was impossible, his lips hadn’t moved, and they were now a parking lot away from each other.
A logistics truck pulled up through the circular entrance of the hotel, blocking her view, before driving away. When the view was clear, her mystery man had disappeared into the night, leaving only the echo of his warning behind in her head. She walked back to the dining room puzzled over the man’s audacity.
She’d be damned before she turned tail and ran back home to Mama.