Sharon Buchbinder: #BookHugs Dark Love Rising by Danita Minnis

Monday, November 13, 2017

#BookHugs Dark Love Rising by Danita Minnis

Former MI6 agent Xavier Quinn would say that you're daft if you think he will stop killing for a living. But that is exactly what is about to happen. Very soon now, Quinn will start killing to stay alive. On the run after taking out the wrong man, Quinn would die a happy man if he could just live long enough to ruin the Parliament member who set him up.

Layla, a 2,000 year old vampire with a moral code, has other plans for the contract killer. When she awakens to the sound of a dark rising, she enlists Quinn to join her on a mission to save humanity from her twin sister Tamara.

But Quinn is just the kind of man that a cold-blooded killer like Tamara needs in her world. A man like Quinn, who never believed in humanity, has only one belief; self-preservation. Being a vampire sounds much better than staying human in the game of kill or be killed. Will he stay alive long enough to find out how Layla's love can change the equation?

Excerpt:

She was a beautiful cadaver. This young woman was sick.

Quinn let her go when she was able to stand on her own. She pushed glossy sheets of midnight hair out of her eyes and it fell to either side of her, like a silken shroud. He was watching that hair shimmer against her hips in a lover’s embrace when he felt her hands clamp around his neck.

He grabbed her wrists, but couldn’t break the frosted beauty’s grip on his throat. For one unbelievable moment, he could have sworn her feet didn’t touch the ground. Her head was level with his.

She had seemed almost catatonic before, but now, even as he struggled, this petite goddess pulled him down.
Her eyelids fluttered and he thought she would pass out, but the grip on his neck was cutting off his air supply.

Just as his own eyelids began to close, she looked him directly in the eye.

“Aurelius.” Eyes, the shape and color of almonds with a hint of gold, widened in recognition and she loosened the chokehold on his throat.

Coughing, he lost his footing and stumbled back. Damned if he wouldn’t have fallen to the ground without her hand steadying his arm, this woman-child.

She stepped closer, and a small, clammy hand traveled over his features to caress his cheek. One long talon traced the shape of his lips.

She wasn’t hurt. She had acted so violently, she was either on drugs or in shock. The change in her, from sluggish to the swiftness of a predator made his hand slide back down to the gun.

“Who are you?”

For some reason, hurt flashed in her beautiful eyes, dulling them a bit. “I am Layla.”

Her voice was hoarse, but he detected an accent. Mediterranean.

“Are you alone?” Quinn looked around for drug paraphernalia, this boyfriend Aurelius she called for, something that made sense this time of night for a tourist to be out and about on the Nile banks.

“Yes.”

“What are you doing out here alone?”

When she did not answer he looked down at her. Her eyes roamed his body with the kind of interest that must have been in his eyes before she tried to choke him to death.

The young woman who called herself Layla ran one hand along the satin trimmed lapel of his tuxedo jacket while the other raked through the curls at the base of his neck.

There was something about those fingernails; they were a bit longer than he cared for and looked very…strong. Even so, the hair massage was undeniably arousing.

Abruptly, he looked away from the amber pools drawing him in and focused on a question. “Are you hurt?”

“My head…” She leaned against his chest.

His arms betrayed him, wrapping around her, and he stifled a curse. She burrowed closer, her lush curves pressing against him. Now was not the time to play the hero.

He took her by the shoulders and held her away from his body. “Where do you live?”

Her eyes traveled slowly down his tux. “Why are you dressed in this way?” She reached for him again but he stepped back.

“Why are you not dressed at all?”