A prison break, a secret admirer, and a boatload of lies. Just about everything Sloane Cabot knows about her past is a big old pile of malarkey. Couple that with the blank spot of how her family died, and she needs answers, like, yesterday.
But when a man shows up dead on her family’s grave, she knows it somehow has to be tied to that fateful night a year ago.
A pair of guards opened the giant doors, bowing at Thomas as he guided me through. It was an actual struggle not to freeze at the entrance and stare. But man, did I want to. This place—while definitely what I would consider on-brand for a vamp nest—was one of the most magnificent buildings I’d ever been in. I wasn’t particularly interested in other churches, but this cathedral was just a beauty. A gallery of pews sat to the left and right of a wide aisle that led to a raised dais. Vampires filled the seats, dressed similarly to Thomas and me, their voices a low buzz of conversation. More people were sitting in the upper gallery, their opulent gowns and sharp tuxedos a happy reminder that Thomas had my back. Had I walked in here with leather pants and a whip on my hip, I had a feeling I would have been just a touch out of place.
Thomas continued his leading, guiding me down the aisle toward a stunningly severe woman sitting on what appeared to be a throne. Skin paler than death, eyes vamped out in a way that seemed permanent, and painted lips the color of blood, she was the most beautiful and yet most frightening woman I’d ever seen. Dark hair was piled on her head in purposefully haphazard curls, a few tendrils snaking out of the complicated up-do to artfully caress her neck. She wore a brilliant green gown that was so simple, and yet so achingly complex, it had to have cost a fortune.
We reached the end of the aisle, and Thomas bowed his head slightly. I copied him, wishing I would have received an etiquette lesson on the hour-long drive here. All I’d gotten was Thomas’ clenched jaw and silence.
“You have some nerve,” a woman growled, drawing my gaze from what had to be the queen of this nest to her right.
I quickly realized that the voice did not belong to a woman at all but a child. Pale-blonde hair and blue eyes were set in an elfin face of a vampire who had likely been no more than ten when she was turned. And that had to have been centuries ago. This little whisp of a “girl”—and I use that word lightly—had the look of a being older than dirt. Dressed in a black lace confection appropriate for a child beauty queen, she stood from her chair.
She then launched herself at Thomas.
I couldn’t exactly say why I did it. I mean, she had me by centuries, and Thomas could take care of himself. But as soon as her feet left the dais, I had the knife Clem had given me yanked from its sheath and was in front of the man in an instant.
Thomas owed me, not the other way around, but he’d been kind to me when I’d needed it, and I wouldn’t let him get attacked. No way, no how.
It was as if everyone froze. Conversations halted, guards stood stock-still, and even this slip of a thing stood arrested at the end of my blade, which was poised at her throat.
To this tiny—but by no means less deadly—vampire at the point of my knife, I said, “Settle down there, Blondie, or we’re going to have a problem.”
Annie Anderson is a military wife and United States Air Force veteran. Originally from Dallas, Texas, she is a southern girl at heart, but has lived all over the US and abroad. As soon as the military stops moving her family around, she’ll settle on a state, but for now she enjoys being a nomad with her husband, two daughters, an old man of a dog, and a young pup that makes life… interesting.
Jack Massey broke my heart. He was jealous and possessive. We were all wrong together—too engrossed, too greedy for one another…like we were each other’s fix.
We made no sense. He’s a stuffy, number-cruncher from a wealthy family, and I’m a hot mess from a trailer park. We’d never work long-term.
He says he wants me back. He needs to let the past stay behind us. I’ve worked too hard this year to get over him. I’ve thrown myself into my work with the kids at the resort. I’ve nurtured friendships with my amazing co-workers. I even tried another relationship. Though Jack’s never left my head or my heart.
Jack:
I screwed up. I’ve paid the price this past year. I quit drinking and became obsessed with my job and working out. I’ve not so much as looked at another woman. Tori’s all I’ve been able to focus on, even after a year
I want her back. It’s not going to be easy. We come from different worlds, and she makes sure I know it at every turn.
I’ve never failed at anything in my life except for my relationship with her, and I don’t intend to lose at that again.
Welcome to Destiny Dunes, where the only thing hotter than the Florida sun is the romance between this resort’s employees. Each book in this steamy series focuses on your favorite romance tropes. Once you enter the gates of Destiny Dunes, you’ll never want to leave!
Our conversation takes us all the way to Jack’s luxury SUV. He opens the door for me, and I get in, knowing I’ll probably never feel like I belong in a car like this. But I start to get a little more comfortable in it this second time around. When he slides into the driver’s seat, I ask, “Where are we going?”
“I want to take you home to my place, but I know better.”
I desperately want him to take me there and directly to his bed. But I want to make him take me out on at least one date before we jump into sleeping together.
“What about a movie?” I say.
“That’s cool. Which one do you want to see?”
I rub my forehead, trying not to say the next words I know I’m going to say. “We can just watch one on your couch.”
“Okay,” he says, a smile trying to get through as he chews on his lip.
“I mean watch a movie,” I say.
“I mean it, too.”
He pulls into the parking lot of his building, and when we both get out of the car, he takes my hand as we walk toward the door. There’s something so possessive about the way he holds my hand, like he’s showing the world that I’m his.
He lets us inside the secure building, and we head to the elevator. We wait for it in silence, still holding hands, and I feel the tension building between us like a pot of water on the verge of boiling.
We get on the elevator, and he hits the button for his floor and then turns to me.
I look away with a giggle. “Don’t even think about it.”
“I didn’t do anything,” he says, looking ridiculously innocent with his dark eyes and his five-o’clock shadow.
We exit the elevator and he lets us in his apartment. “This is a blast from the past,” I say. His place always makes me feel so adult. He had it professionally decorated in sleek lines and gray tones, which is a stark contrast to the resort-issued décor of my own place.
“Do you want water to drink, or do you want something else?” he asks. “I have beer and wine.”
“I’ll just take water, please.”
He settles in next to me, handing me the water. “Do you know what you want to watch yet?”
Being here in this apartment with him sitting right next to me on his couch is almost more than my nervous stomach can handle. “It doesn’t matter,” I say, unable to pull my gaze away from his.
He takes my bottle of water from me and sets it on the coffee table in front of us. He slides his hand underneath mine. “Thanks for trusting me enough to let me bring you back here.”
My heel taps on the floor without my permission. He puts his hand on my knee, stopping the rapid movement. “You don’t have to be nervous around me, Tori. You are totally running the show here and you know it.”
I point to his chest. “You say that, but it doesn’t always feel that way.”
He clasps his hand around my finger and kisses the tip of it. “Whatever you decide you want to happen between us, I’m all for it.”
I close my eyes. “Why have you made me stop hating you? It was so much easier that way.”
He runs his fingertips across my cheek and then around to the back of my neck. Every time he puts his hand back there, my body melts like a block of ice in a sauna.
Melissa Chambers writes contemporary novels for young, new, and actual adults. A Nashville native, she spends her days working in the music industry and her nights tapping away at her keyboard. While she’s slightly obsessed with alt rock, she leaves the guitar playing to her husband and kid. She never misses a chance to play a tennis match, listen to an audiobook, or eat a bowl of ice cream. (Rocky road, please!) She has served as president for the Music City Romance Writers and is the author of the Love Along Hwy 30A series, the Destiny Dunes series, the Before Forever series (YA), and Courting Carlyn (YA).
I am a New Zealand author writing in m/m romance, and romantic suspense. I have traveled extensively and lived in the US, Canada, France, Australia and South Korea. In a past life I have been an Intensive Care Nurse, Counselor, and a Nursing Lecturer.
I’m a cat aficionado especially of Maine Coons, and an avid dog lover (but don’t tell the cat). I love to cook, pretty damn good, love to sing, pretty damn average, and as for loving full-time writing, absolutely… depending of course on the day, the word count, the deadline, how obliging my characters are, the ambient temperature in the Western Sahara, whether Jupiter is rising, the size of the ozone hole over New Zealand and how much coffee I’ve had.
