At
Death It Begins
ADIB
Book
One
Elle
Jefferson
Genre:
Paranormal romance
ISBN:
9781484877098
ASIN:
B00AUNNJCI
Number
of pages: 418
Word
Count: 98,184
Cover
Artist: Krysa Designs
Book
Description:
Lendyn
Hughes' grandmother has kept a secret from her for over thirty-one
years, who Lendyn's parents are. A devastating break-up following her
grandmother's death leaves Lendyn alone, confused and determined to
find answers. Armed with only a name Lendyn attempts to unfurl the
branches of her family tree never guessing it would put her life in
danger.
For
over two hundred years Englishman Callum Scott lived a life
surrounded by beauty. A life free from all those annoying human
emotions. That is until the American showed up. Lendyn flipped his
world upside down and put him in the worst sort of jeopardy. He's
starting to feel things and a murderer can't afford to feel.
Excerpt: Chapter 1
My
hand fumbled through the darkness reaching for Devin. I needed to
feel him, know he was there. Something troubled me, but I couldn’t
put a finger on what.
A
morsel of his flesh beneath my fingers would pacify me. Assure me he
was still there. I reached further until my fingers collided with the
soft, peach under-flesh of his forearm. I ran a hand across his solid
form pausing for a moment to trace a figure eight on the mound of
muscle encompassing his shoulder. He had a body fit to be relished
even in the troubling hour’s lack of sleep brought.
He
purred for a moment before stretching an arm and rolling over to his
stomach stifling his rhythmic snoring. I tucked the sheets over him
and kissed his golden hair. It was a perfect evening; work failed to
interrupt our plans which were a rarity. We went for a moonlit walk
along Paradise Cove, an exclusive beach, you had to be a member of to
stroll along. This meant no paparazzi to hassle us.
They
were one of many drawbacks to dating a celebrity, but as I admired
the contours of his body, there were benefits too. Though maybe
tonight had been too perfect. That was silly thinking. We didn’t
spend enough time alone for anything to be too perfect.
An
eerie flash of red in my peripheral caught my attention. I sat up
noticing for the first time the clock on the nightstand was flashing
11:41 over and over. One of the problems to living in an old hotel
like the Beltmore … things tended to fizzle out all the time. Last
month it was the air conditioning, before that, the hot water. Maybe
Devin was right, and it was time to move out of this hotel and into
an apartment. I shrugged, I’d debate that tomorrow.
I
patted the nightstand for my cell; it wasn’t there. Then I
remembered I dropped it on the dresser earlier this evening when
Devin had pinned me there to deliver one of his toe curling kisses.
Trying to keep quiet while navigating the dark became impossible when
I stubbed my toe on one of Devin’s Sketchers and tripped headfirst
into the dresser. My hand flew to my mouth muffling a scream that
rushed to my lips. Devin stirred but didn’t wake.
Phew.
The last thing I needed was to wake him. He was a bit of a grump and
once he was awake, he’d have to leave. Work always came first.
Along
the dresser, I felt the smooth outline of my phone. When the screen
lit up the time was only 2:08 a.m. still early and plenty of time to
crawl back into bed and snuggle up next to Devin. Halfway back to bed
and my phone started vibrating. There were fourteen missed calls and
one voicemail, all of which, came from one number—Emma. Now, I was
a bit worried. It’d been a while since the last time I’d spoken
with my best friend Emma.
Emma
had this philosophy about calling once and not calling again until
you called her back, hence my worry.
I
dialed my voicemail, “Wednesday, 12:15 a.m—Lend, its Em call me
as soon as you—BEEP.” Em was calling on the other line. Why was I
so nervous to answer it?
“Em
what’s going on—” I swallowed, “—is everything okay?”
Emma
didn’t even get my name out before she broke into sobs. Maybe she
and “Mister Perfect” broke up again.
“Hello,”
I said a little louder, “you still there?” All I could hear was
sniffling, maybe she accidentally pocket dialed me. I debated hanging
up and calling her back when a familiar English accent came on the
line—Mister Perfect. “Lendyn it’s Zach … I’m afraid I have
bad news … there was an accident involving Gigi,” he paused to
take a breath as I held mine, “I’m afraid she didn’t make it.”
The
room began to spin, and gravity pulled at me. Was I dreaming? This
had to be a dream.
Zach’s
voice continued, but I didn’t hear anything except a loud buzzing
as my legs gave out, and I collapsed to the floor.
In
Death's Touch
ADIB
Book
Two
Elle
Jefferson
Genre:
Paranormal Romance
ASIN:
B00IG9USCC
Number
of pages: 400
Cover
Artist: Krysa Designs
Book
Description:
Lendyn
Hughes had everything she wanted. A family that welcomed her with
open arms and a man who loved her as-is. So what if they were all
vampires, love picked you not the other way round. Besides she was
half vampire herself.
One
brief encounter. One wrong decision took it all away.
Now
Lendyn is trying to remember what in the world she’s exactly doing
in London, why she’s back with her ex, where she got the bruises
covering her ribs from and who the taunting voice in her head is.
I’m
sorry. Two words Callum never hated more. They were the two words
he’d found on the Dear John note in Lendyn’s room. With one
breath she declared her love and in the next breath she left him. Now
his future looks bleak without Lendyn to color the way.
Chapter 1 Book Two
It
was a beautiful day for a wedding. The English countryside provided a
glorious canvas of green, while butterflies dancing along flowers
provided an array of color, and bees buzzing provided the summer tune
making it a day cut from a fairy tale. Surrounding magnolia bushes
were in bloom, their fragrance carried along the breeze. From
Callum’s bedroom window was an excellent view of the gazebo where
Zach, his cousin, the brother his vampire life prevented him from
having, was about to marry a loud obnoxious American named Emma. Emma
wore on his nerves but she made Zach happy so he would learn to
suffer her disagreeable ways.
Decorated
in garlands of ice blue roses and white gardenia buds, the gazebo was
as lovely as a painting.
Callum’s
gaze, however, focused on the gardener pruning evergreens around the
gazebo. Every squeeze of the shears flexed the gardener’s biceps.
His skin dewed, veins bulging with the exertion wetted Callum’s
appetite. Since Lendyn’s release from the hospital, he, along with
the rest of his family, had been quenching their hunger from a supply
of blood kept in a repository down in the wine cellars within the
dungeons below Scott manor.
Sinking
your teeth into a plastic IV bag did not bring the same thrill, or
relief, sinking into the supple flesh of a neck, or thigh, did.
The
gardener put his shears down and leaned against a marble column
pressing a hand to his forehead shading his eyes as he looked up
towards sky.
Up
towards Callum.
Though
with his human eyes there was no way the gardener could see this far.
Callum watched the gardener’s jugular strain in a thick line along
his neck.
Curse
his vow not to spill a drop of human blood in honor of today’s
wedding. The gardener started to rub at his neck and shoulder
beckoning Callum to take a taste.
His
blood called to him, sang of it’s sweetness. Callum couldn’t stop
his fangs from poking through his bottom lip as he bit down hard. He
slammed the window shut, locked it, and pulled the curtains closed.
He took another second to get his breathing back to normal.
He
tapped his fingers on the doorknob of his wardrobe, his gaze straying
back to the window.
No.
He
pulled open the doors and gagged at the sickening scent of cinnamon.
Marco’s scent. Marco. His cousin and the man responsible for
killing Emery, Callum's mother, he was also the man responsible for
putting Lendyn in the hospital in the first place. Originally, Callum
believed Marco attacked Lendyn out of spite. A means to punish Callum
for all eternity, but that wasn’t the case. As ludicrous as it was,
Marco was on a mission to destroy everything. Callum’s unhappiness
was just an added benefit.
Marco’s
wretched scent continued to hang around attached to the tailored suit
he made for Callum. Callum yanked the suit from the depths of his
closet and hung it on the door.
Yes,
he claimed he’d disposed of it as he’d been ordered to do.
Marco’s coup d’état severed all ties to their coven, their
family, and in accordance with tradition everything he handled was
burned. Callum had never seen Emma smile wider than when she watched
every last evidence of Marco’s existence burn to ash, her wedding
dress being the last item thrown onto the flaming pyre.
After
that she’d become more flippant and rude to everyone, but
especially him. Emma’s last injection had been that night and her
vampire side was quick in taking over.
He
rubbed the suit’s lapel between his fingers which he did every day,
every time he examined the suit. He touched every button, rubbed
every seam and squeezed every pocket. And, like every other time, he
found nothing. Callum steepled his hands together and tapped his
fingers on his chin.
Whether
it was the way Marco glared at the jacket each time Callum came for a
fitting, the cold stare down with Marco right before getting the
suit, or the shiver that played down his spine when his fingers
brushed Marco’s as he took the suit, he couldn’t say. Whatever
instance it was though, made it a compulsion to keep the suit. Callum
knew he couldn’t get rid of it because a vital clue hid within the
stitching. He just hadn’t found that bloody clue yet.
He
sneered at the suit before tucking it back into the depths of his
wardrobe. He laid down on his bed rolling over to inhale the scent
still lingering on his sheets—lilac.
It
gave him chills.
He
let go of the sheets and slid from the bed. Better to forget almost
moments than try to repeat them. Lendyn consumed his thoughts, his
fantasies. If not for continual interruptions from family, one of
their almost moments was certain to turn dangerous. Every time her
skin touched his he was willing to throw every rule away to never
break contact. Worse was that these almost moments could end in blood
being spilled; and not his.
He
walked over to the wall separating his room from Lendyn’s and ran
his hands along it. He couldn't say what he feared more, giving it
all, or withdrawing completely. They’d danced along this knife
blade so long he wasn’t sure he could do anything without being cut
completely.
As
much as he yearned for Lendyn, he feared her too. Logic leapt out a
window whenever he was in her company. His emotions, which were
lacking before, were a torrent now that buoyed to her, rising and
falling with her changing moods.
It
was disconcerting to be so attached to another. To worry as he did
about Lendyn. He’d vowed to never let another person corrupt him,
yet here he was utterly at her mercy. He hoped she was incapable of
cruelty in sport or else his heart would be crushed.
About
the Author:
Elle
Jefferson lives up in northern Arizona with her two beautiful sons,
wonderful husband and her German Shepard Dorrie. When she's not
reading or writing she's painting or enjoying the great outdoors.
She
is currently working on her follow-up to At Death it Begins, In
Death's Shadow, and hopes to have it released in early December.
@Elle_Jefferson
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