Kiss of Crimson (The Midnight Breed, Book 2) by Lara Adrian

By Lara Adrian

Book 2 within the long island occasions and no 1 the world over bestselling middle of the night Breed vampire romance series

He involves her extra lifeless than alive, a towering black-clad stranger riddled with bullets and speedily wasting blood. As she struggles to avoid wasting him, veterinarian Tess Culver is unaware that the guy calling himself Dante isn't any guy in any respect, yet one of many Breed, vampire warriors engaged in a determined conflict. in one erotically charged second Tess is plunged into his world--a moving, shadowed position the place bands of Rogue vampires stalk the evening, slicing a swath of terror.

Haunted by way of visions of a gloomy destiny, Dante lives and fights like there's no the next day to come. Tess is a hardship he doesn't need--but now, along with his brethren less than assault, he needs to defend Tess from a becoming hazard that comes with Dante himself. For with one reckless, impossible to resist kiss, she has turn into an inextricable a part of his underworld realm...and his contact awakens her to hidden presents, wishes, and hungers she by no means knew she possessed. Bonded by means of blood, Dante and Tess needs to interact to thwart lethal enemies, whilst they find a ardour that transcends the limits of existence itself....

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Additional info for Kiss of Crimson (The Midnight Breed, Book 2)

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The equipage rocked and lurched like a small ornate ship on stony seas. Above, the clockwork dragon supervised. How much of Oz those dull eyes had taken in. Oz rehearsing itself, rearranging itself decade after decade. Whimsy and fate, destiny and accident. The fall of the house of Ozma, the dirty years of the Wizard, the rise of impeccable Shell, holy Emperor of Oz. Fortunes, in any case: changeable fortunes converted into the changeless facts of biography by every passing tick of its mechanisms.

Am I hallucinating all this? Kill me or save me, as you wish, but for the love of the Unnamed God, do it soon. 舡 It was this last remark that moved the Lion to pity, or pity of a sort. He knew about being alone. The weather was always cold there. He padded forward and put his big head down on the man舗s chest. The man swooned in fear or disbelief, whereupon the scattershot snare in his chest slowed to a more stately thud. The Lion considered creeping off. The whole thing was so embarrassing. 舡 He didn舗t want to be rude and leave without the correct valediction.

He rubbed the cat舗s arthritic spine, and a net of hairs came off on the pad of his paw. He held them out. Each hair looked like nothing so much as a thread of glass. 舠Revolting,舡 said Sister Hospitality, charitably enough. 舠Look, it hardly has a shadow,舡 said Brrr, and this was almost true; the morning light of the vestibule slanted through where the cat stood, stretching arthritically on the flagstones. 舡 said the Lion. 舡 舠If it舗s as fragile as glass, it will be pleased to learn that our own mousers have recently fled,舡 said Sister Hospitality.

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