A shy waitress and an ancient, shapeshifting assassin with a bounty on his head… A match made in heaven?
Sara
It was supposed to be a simple favor. Instead of helping out the sexy, aloof bouncer at my bar, I’ve narrowly escaped death at the hands of a murdering shifter and inadvertently rescued Ilan’s nephew in the process.
The things a woman has to do to get a guy’s attention these days…
Ilan
For years, I kept my innocent human true mate safe from me and the dangerous world I live in. Then on the night I planned to skip town, Sara lands in the middle of a botched assassination attempt. Now, I can’t let her go. She’s a target. So is my infant nephew. And the killers who came after my family should be afraid.
Very afraid.
I’m not called an Angel of Death for nothing.
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This book is the closed-door version of CLAIMED BY THE ASSASSIN by Nancy Corrigan, the Mainstream fiction pen name of Dana Archer.
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As always, Dana guarantees a happily ever after with NO CHEATING and NO CLIFFHANGER.
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From the book:
Blood.
My mind supplies the detail. Tiny hairs stand up on my arms. I rub them, but I don’t move. My feet are frozen in place. My gaze is locked on the blood. It’s dripping down the fridge door.
I turn my attention to the room. Nobody else is here. There’s no sign of a break-in. No sign of a struggle. Somebody got hurt, though. I can’t see who. The kitchen island blocks my view.
My stomach lurches. I press my balled fist to it. The pressure doesn’t help. I’m going to be sick. “Ilan?”
No answer. The only sound is my ragged breaths. I take a step forward, then another and another, before rushing around the kitchen island.
A sob shakes my chest. I cover my mouth, muffling the raw sound.
The two men I’d spoken to earlier this morning lie unmoving on the floor. Their faces are bloody messes. I know what the sight means, but it can’t be true. I just spoke to them.
“Oh God. Please, no.” Needing the confirmation, I press my fingertips to the closest man’s wrist, then the other man’s wrist. No pulses.
Dead. They’re dead.
A large tote bag is propped next to the farthest man’s slumped form. I tug it closer, looking for the package they’d meant to deliver. Behind the bag is a sight that freezes my hand.
A plaid blanket covers a large uneven shape. An identical plaid blanket to the one in the living room. I know what’s hidden underneath without lifting the wool cloth. My friend Mya had a similar carrier when her girls were babies. I’d lugged their car seats enough between her car and mine.
With my heart in my throat, I step over the bodies, sliding on the blood covering the floor, and drop to my knees next to the baby seat.
◆
"You're not afraid of the dark, are you?"
"No." The word slips from my mouth on a shaky exhale.
"That's good." Ilan lifts me, and I automatically link my ankles at the base of his spine and my hands behind his neck.
My eyelids flutter, the instant punch of desire overwhelming. "It is?"
"Yes, it is." Ilan's open mouth brushes over my skin, from my neck to my ear. "Wicked things happen in the dark. Pleasures you'd never find in the light or in another man's arms. Only mine. And when the rays of the sun touch your skin tomorrow, you'll reach for me, seeking the darkness, needing me."
Warmth settles low. I tighten my grip on Ilan's neck, my fingers digging into his skin. "Are you sure about that?"
"Thousands of years, Sara." Ilan carries me into my bedroom. The intensity of his gaze draws my focus to his face. "Every one has been in preparation for you, to lure you into the darkness, tempting you to the edge of the abyss. Tonight, you'll fall, and I promise you... You'll never find your way out."
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