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BLOOD WICKED
by Sharon Page

Genre: Historical Erotic Romance, Erotic Romance, Paranormal

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“Now, tell me what you are—”

Vivienne twisted away and ran down the narrow lane toward the inert body, guessing he wouldn’t expect this. Not for her to run toward the man who had tried to attack her. She tried to jump over the fallen body, but couldn’t. Her boot landed on his arm and she lost her balance and fell forward.

A strong hand wrapped around her wrist and she was pulled hard against his male body. Sandalwood. Leather. Horse. Man. She smelled all those things in the dizzying moment she was clamped against her rescuer’s chest, her face buried against him. “How?” she gasped.

“I’m a vampire, little one. I can move with great speed when I want to. And when it is necessary, I can fly. But you must know that. You’ve blocked your thoughts to me.”

“I what? Y—you’re mad,” she cried, her voice muffled. Dazed, shocked, she reared back and looked up at the elegant beaver hat, the snow-white collar points.

He was smiling at her, smiling as though she was a tasty morsel he intended to devour. Suddenly the smile vanished. His gloved hands closed roughly around her arms.  “What did you do to my brother?” he barked at her. “And where the hell he is now?”

“W—who?” she gasped.

Silver eyes. His eyes were a strange, reflective silver, and they dilated as he took in the sight of her face. She could taste the blood from the cut, tracking slowly along her lips. His lips were beautiful, she noticed madly. Perfectly shaped. His lower lip was very full, and his face was exotic and sensuous and filled with fury and suspicion.

“My brother,” he growled. “I know you were his lover. And I know you aren’t mortal.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She shoved at him.

He blinked down at her. His hat hadn’t even wobbled.

He moved her, pressed her back to the brick wall, and leaned in as though preparing to push his mouth onto hers in a kiss. “No!” she jerked her head to the side, turning her stinging, bleeding cheek to him. She was not going to let him have her mouth.

His tongue came out as his face neared hers. Gently, the tip of it touched the top of her wound. A strange flow of heat began there, flooded her skin, and seemed to flood her brain. He traced the entire length of her cut, setting her skin ablaze in his path. She didn’t understand why. She didn’t want his touch.

He stopped where the wound did. On her throat. And he suckled there. Vivienne had to let her head drop back against the wall. Sensation roared up. She felt something she hadn’t felt for years and years. Need. Desire. Hunger.  

Excerpt from Blood Wicked, © 2011 Sharon Page (published by Kensington Publishing)