Hunger, the latest book in Felicity Heaton’s vampire romance series, Vampires Realm, is now available in ebook and paperback. To celebrate the release, she’s holding a FANTASTIC GIVEAWAY at her website.
Here’s more about Hunger, including an excerpt from this action-packed hot vampire romance novel.
“You shouldn’t touch me.”
Eve frowned at those low spoken words. “Why not?”
He turned his head slightly towards her, enough that she could see he had his eyes closed, his eyebrows drawn down above them. His shoulders tensed as she pulled a long shard out of his side and she mumbled an apology.
“Because it isn’t right,” he said and she wished he would tell her straight and stop dancing around the reason.
She pulled another piece of metal out, her actions rougher this time, her irritation getting the better of her. He hissed as he sucked in a breath and blood trickled down his back.
“Sorry,” Eve said, immediately regretting what she had done. Guilt swept through her and on its heels came an instinct she fought hard to deny.
She would not lick the blood or seal the wound for him.
She grabbed some tissue and pressed it to the wound instead, and closed her eyes, shutting out the sight of all the blood on his back. She struggled against her instincts, desperate to shut out the voice that tempted her into running her tongue over Tor’s back, capturing every stray drop of his strong blood. She wanted it. She needed it.
She had to take it.
Tor wouldn’t argue.
He wouldn’t deny her. He would let her crawl up his magnificent body and sink her fangs into his throat, drinking deep of his blood. He would enjoy it.
Eve turned away and shoved her palms against the cool wall tiles as her head spun, the sudden onslaught of dizziness threatening to sweep the ground out from under her and take her down to her knees.
Tor’s strong hand caught her upper arm. “Eve?”
The sound of her name in his deep accented voice sent heat rolling through her and caused her trembling to increase. Her knees turned to jelly, too weak to support her weight. His other hand clamped down on her side and he lifted her. The spinning in her head worsened and she gasped as her backside hit something hard beneath her.
“Eve?” Tor’s hands grasped her shoulders and he held her steady, and she wished she could find her voice to thank him for it. She clutched his biceps, holding herself upright on the counter of the vanity unit. “Eve?”
She nodded to let him know that she was beginning to feel better. The hunger was passing. She was winning.
She sucked in a deep breath and held it in her lungs, trying to shatter the final threads of the hunger’s hold on her.
“You need blood.” He released her arms.
Eve tightened her grip on him, fear bringing her claws out. She pressed them into his flesh, desperate for him to stay, unwilling to let him move. She couldn’t let him go for blood. She couldn’t. He wouldn’t understand.
“I’m fine.” She pushed the words out, trying to sound normal, sure that he hadn’t heard the wobble in her voice. “I think this whole evening has taken its toll on me.”
Eve risked opening her eyes and meeting his.
The ice glittering in them said he wanted to call her on her lie, that he knew she needed blood and hadn’t fed recently.
He stepped back instead and Eve quickly averted her gaze when his actions gave her a dazzling reminder that he was naked.
He raised his hand towards her face and she cursed him for it, knowing he had deliberately chosen the one he had bloodied when trying to remove a piece of shrapnel by himself. The room brightened, the sudden sharpness hurting her eyes as they changed to their true vampiric state, blazing crimson, the colour of her bloodline. Her stomach turned as her fangs dropped.
“You might be able to fool Oneiric with your lies… but you’re not fooling me. The next opportunity we get, you’re feeding.”
He turned away from her and the shower switched on, the water beating down on the plastic tray, filling the thick silence. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t feed. The very thought made her stomach rebel and bile rise, scalding her throat. She forced her fangs away and faced Tor.
“I haven’t finished yet.” She looked at all the marks on his back, each red slash calling to her, making her fangs itch to drop again and her mouth water.
“You’re done. I shouldn’t have let you touch me.” He stepped into the shower and grimaced as water sluiced over his skin. The lower half of the glass was obscured, hiding detail from her hungry eyes.
She dragged them up and settled them on his back. He carefully scrubbed the soot from his skin, taking his time around the wounds on his arms.
“Why can’t I touch you?” She threw her voice behind that question, wanting to be sure he heard it over the running water.
He paused with his hands in his blond hair, the wet strands tangled over his long fingers, filling her head with images of her hands like that. She pushed that vision out of her head. He obviously didn’t want her in that way. His eyes altered at times when he was looking at her, banked heat breaking through the ice for a heartbeat, but he had been naked around her and hadn’t shown a flicker of interest then, and something told her it was because he had drawn a line between them at some point. Since that point, his eyes hadn’t shown even a glimmer of heat.
Since the explosion and her admission that she had been betrayed and wanted revenge.
“I’m not worthy of it. You’re to be our Chosen Daughter.” He went back to washing his hair, those beautiful fingers working the shampoo into a lather, distracting her from what he had said.
Eve frowned. “A rank I don’t want.”
She knew what a Chosen Daughter was. She wanted no part of her bloodline and definitely didn’t want to help run the wretched thing.
“A rank you have, nonetheless.” Tor ducked his head under the water and turned around, facing towards her. He rinsed his hair, his eyes closed. The honed muscles of his torso shifted in a sensual symphony, luring and tempting her. He was beautiful like that. She could easily fool herself that he was human. Just a normal man. Not a killer.
Damn, she could fool herself into thinking that when he didn’t have his eyes closed. She could make herself think it when he was dispatching vampires.
He had been incredible.
Fluid. Graceful. Powerful. A predator.
Eve shook herself when he opened his eyes and they settled on her, a small frown making his eyebrows twitch. He had felt her staring and had probably detected her feelings. She shut them down and swore she would keep better control of them in the future. It hadn’t taken her long to realise how easily vampires could sense emotions in each other, especially when the other was broadcasting them loud and clear.
She looked away and scowled as her gaze hit the mirror behind her and she saw only the room reflected in it. Her vow to keep her emotions hidden shattered instantly, the reminder of what she had become cutting her to her heart. She quickly closed her eyes and clutched the edges of the counter.
Tor’s gaze lingered on her.
He was going to ask what was wrong and she was going to look foolish and weak again.
He stared at her for what felt like eternity and then went back to showering. Eve relaxed, her grip loosening, and risked a glance at him. He had turned his back again and she leisurely perused it, taking in every scar that marked a path across his broad shoulders, a trail she happily followed.
He did have a magnificent body, like nothing she had ever seen before, and the scars didn’t detract from its masculine beauty. They only added to it and the image she had of him, that of a lethal, fearsome predator, a cold killer to his bones. He was his bloodline’s name made flesh. Violent. Yet, it was a controlled and efficient violence. Methodical and calculated, expedient.
She had never met a vampire like him. If she had, she would have died and turned a long time before Adam’s betrayal.
That name sent a hot lance through her heart and she ground her molars against the pain that welled up, spreading through her veins like acid, eating away at her.
The glass door of the shower sliding open startled her and she tensed, her gaze leaping to Tor. His blue eyes were dark, ringed with crimson, and malice emanated from him again, a wave that swept over her and made her feel she should say something, that she needed to explain things to him so he could understand the emotions running rampant through her, emotions that awakened a feral, intoxicating response in him.
Tor wouldn’t settle for the surface details she had told Oneiric though. He would want to know everything and part of her wanted to tell him. She wanted to bare herself to him and show him the ugly, terrible things that haunted her.
Her deepest, darkest secrets.