paranormal romance

For as long as I can remember, I’ve loved vampires, but for just as long I’ve been hearing that vampires are obsolete. For all that, I haven’t seen a shortage of them over the years, and I hope I never will. Vampire stories have undergone many changes. From traditional vampires to futuristic ones, they’ve taken on a variety of characteristics. Some vampires survive on blood. Others on energy. Some, like the ones in my Ancient Blood series, eat food as well as drink blood. In one fictional world, a vampire is a shapeshifter who can change into a bat or a wolf, but in another, they’re born a vampire and can only keep one form. Vampire legends can be found all over the world, and new stories are created all the time. Every year there are new vampire books, movies, and TV shows, like the First Kill vampire TV series and the latest version of Interview with the Vampire.

Despite all the changes, what keeps vampires at the top of so many people’s list of favorite fictional creatures? Is it the danger, the horror, the romanticism? Horror and romance fans both love them, although their characteristics in each genre might be different. Or maybe not. When it comes to the vampire, it’s easy to cross genres. There’s romance in horror, and horror in romance.

Perhaps that’s the key. Vampires are unpredictable. They’re appealing to a wide variety of people.

Are vampires going away? I don’t think so. After all, they’re immortal.

About Kate

Kate Hill is a vegetarian New Englander who loves writing romantic fantasies. When she’s not working on her books, Kate enjoys reading, working out, watching horror movies, and researching vampires and Viking history. She runs the Compelling Beasts Blog that is dedicated to antagonists, antiheroes, and paranormal creatures. Kate also writes as Saloni Quinby.

Visit her online at https://www.kate-hill.com. Join her newsletter at https://kate-hill.com/index.php/newsletter.

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The Darkness Therein
Ancient Blood 2
by Kate Hill
Paranormal Romance, Vampire Romance

Blurb:

Jocelyn has chased his nemesis for centuries. He swore that nothing or no one would stand between him and revenge on the creature that destroyed his life. That same rival leads Jocelyn to the one person who can reconnect him to the human race.

Art student Charlie has no idea that her family history binds her to a creature of legend–until he appears in the form of a tall, beautiful man with a thirst for revenge. The last thing she wants is to follow his orders, but if she intends to stay alive, she has no choice.

Note: The Darkness Therein was previously published. This re-edited version contains additional scenes.

Excerpt:

“Jocelyn.” Charlie shook him gently, frightened by the dullness of his eyes. “What can I do to help you?”

“If you could stay through the funeral,” he whispered. “I do need you.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What funeral? What are you talking about?”

“Sybil. I left her. She couldn’t have suffered. The smoke kills you before the flames do.”

Charlie felt ill as she realized he had no idea he was rambling about his past. She shook him. “Wake up, Jocelyn!”

“Charlie.” His eyes, shadowed beneath and suddenly far too bright against his gaunt face, focused on her. “Go back to bed.”

“You need help. Why don’t you get some blood instead of staying here with us?”

“Isn’t it like rape to take something from someone who doesn’t want to give it?”

“We all survive off each other in one way or another.” For the next few minutes she watched him in silence, forcing herself to overcome the fear of what would happen when he took her blood. She had to give it. He’d saved her life twice. How painful could it be, to give up a little blood? And why was she afraid now, when it the motel she’d wanted him to take it?

“When you drink blood, do you take it from the neck, like in the movies?”

He shook his head almost imperceptibly. “Only if I’m sleeping with someone. The wrist or the hand. There’s less attachment that way.”

“Go ahead.” She held her wrist to his lips.

Shaking his head, he took her hand and squeezed it. “No. I’ll get it somewhere else later.”

“Jocelyn, you’re getting weaker by the minute. You were hallucinating a few minutes ago. What good are you to me if you’re sick?” Perhaps if she appealed to his sense of duty, he’d relent. “I want you to take my blood. Really.”

Dropping her hand, he turned away from her. “I said go.”

Purchase Links:

Amazon: https://kate-hill.com/the-darkness-therein/

Apple Books: https://books.apple.com/gt/book/the-darkness-therein/id6443994178

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/darkness-therein-kate-hill/1008195192

kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-darkness-therein

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1175373

Welcome to My Sexy Saturday Week 186, where authors tease you with seven sentences or paragraphs from their sexy stories!

This week’s theme is My Special Kind of Sexy: “Have you ever met someone who exudes a special kind of sexy? It may not be overt, it may be so understated that it takes a while to realize just how sexy this person is.”

For today’s excerpt, we’ve reached back in time – not just to our backlist, but to a different century. We thought perhaps an Edwardian era ghost might fit this description…

BLURB

A tender ghost story and a sizzling erotic romance with a splash of BDSM, Mistress of Purgatory Point is also the deeply moving chronicle of the mid-life sexual awakening of a stoic widow who thought she’d already experienced her one allotted love. One man, two women and two ghosts keep love’s fires burning through the deep chill of a North Woods winter—but which love will hold the key?

BUY LINKS

E-BOOK

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Extasy Books

PAPERBACK ~ Books One and Two of the Purgatory series in a single volume

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EXCERPT

Here is Martha’s first encounter with the ghosts…

Martha closed her eyes and welcomed the drifting sensations of dozing.

He’d have strong hands. She’d have soft hands. Dan’s fingers. Natalie’s fingers. As if from a distance, Martha recognized her own soft moans. Her loins ached. It was an old ache, yet a familiar ache.

Her nipples pebbled and strained against the flannel gown. Fingers brushed against her inner thigh. She squeezed her legs tightly together, trapping them.

Whose fingers? Hers? His? Natalie’s? She was dreaming. She knew she was. She had to be dreaming. She let herself sink farther into the darkness.

“That a girl,” came a soothing whisper penetrating her fuzzy brain. “You’re a passionate woman. Let it out. Cherish your passion. Let me help. Let me touch you.”

“Natalie?” Martha whispered, unable to awaken.

A soft chuckle answered. “Not this time. Maybe later if you allow yourself. Now let me help you.”

The pressure of fingertips on her thigh matched the pressure building behind her loins. Her brow furrowed as another set of fingers caressed her taut nipples still protected by flannel. “Oh,” she moaned. She tensed and then relaxed. The fingers on her thigh slid upward to where she burned the hottest.

Martha bit down on her lower lip as a finger seeking more heat found it. She gasped and lurched up and down, helping to seat the intruder in her sex. “This can’t be happening,” she moaned, widening her thighs.

“But it is. You’re not pretending it isn’t, are you?”

Martha hesitated. The finger stopped its exploring. She shook her head in response to the question and to her overwhelming desire. She wasn’t even certain what she wanted, but she wanted with her entire body.

A mouth settled over the flannel that covered a breast. “Good God,” Martha whimpered. She heard laughter, and then the magic emanating from her vagina overtook her. The finger deep inside moved incessantly. Martha shook. She didn’t know which would explode first, her head or her loins.

“God help me!” she screamed as her need, fulfilled, overflowed.

Exhausted, Martha shook herself awake. Her dream had been as vivid as a nightmare, but she wouldn’t deceive herself labeling it as such. It had been too incredible for that. She hugged herself trying to quiet her still trembling flesh.

She’d orgasmed before, but…She threw an arm across her forehead. This one had been so explosive. So simple, and yet overwhelmingly complex. She shook her head. Since when had she become an analyst of orgasms?

Her nipples still tingled. Tentatively, she brushed a hand against a breast. Her eyes flew wide open and she started to a sitting position. The flannel covering her breast was sodden. She slid a hand between her legs. Wet. “Good grief,” she murmured to the night, “what is happening to me?”

Be sure to click to travel to the other Sexy Saturday excerpts awaiting your enjoyment!