Nibbled by the Vamp

Wren Minix knew vamps were real. Totally.  But mean fairies?  Fairies weren’t supposed to be mean!  But they are, and she really thought she was gonna become fairy dust if it hadn’t been for the super hunky vampire that saved her.  Had she mentioned hunky?  And, hey, giving him a little snack in return was no bigs.  He helped, after all.  Except she wanted one nibble to turn into two and then…oodles.  And she’d tell him so…just as soon as she finished tasting all of those yummy muscles.

For three hundred years, Griffin Linch has protected the city of Atlanta as one of its Knight Protectors, a vampire with a cause.  Each night he turns other predators into prey and keeps the citizens of the city safe from the bad things that go bump in the night.  But it’s one, lush, curvaceous and smart-mouthed human that he’s rescued and can’t get out of his system. She’s it for him. The perfect package… the perfect mate… if only she could keep her mouth shut long enough for him to tell her.

Read an Excerpt

Wren decided running was bad with a capital “B”. Well, maybe not the running per se, but the reason behind it all was definitely on the fuck-me-in-a-bad-way train.

Plus, she’d gone crazy. Totally bat-shit, straight-jacket-and-a-padded-room nutso.

She knew walking had been a mistake. Huge. Gargantuan even. Sure, that morning she’d been filled with optimism. The first day on the way to a new Wren. Or, at least, a healthier version of her.

If she was honest, she kinda dug her curves. It was just the out-of-breath while trudging up stairs part that she had been getting tired of.

So she’d walked the ten blocks to work, sneakers on her feet and heels in her bag, optimism filling her from her big (non-implant) breast-eses down to her Kim Kardashian-esque badunk-a-dunk. Now, thirteen hours later at the end of her workday, she realized that had been a mistake. The streets along her route were lit by smatterings of lights and felt way too empty. Way.

Then, her world took a nose dive. Three blocks from her office she passed a dark alley, one of the many lining the street, and a bright flash of blue caught her attention. Showing more stupidity than sense, Wren paused at the mouth of the darkened space, squinting into the gloom.

The blue was followed by a sparkle of pink, then another in orange and yet another in neon yellow. That was followed by moans. A groan.

“Help me…” The voice was soft, definitely feminine, and growing weaker by the second. “Please…” Those lights swirled round and round, darting and splitting the blackness. God, it was probably a bunch of club kiddies with those stupid glow lights attacking some woman. “No…”

“Shitshitshit…” Wren dug in her purse and snagged her cell phone, poking at the touch screen, jabbing the surface and waiting for it to respond. It didn’t, of course. Because she never charged the fucking thing.

Okay, she could bluff her way through this. Totally.

“Hey!” She took a step into the pitch black alley. “Leave her alone! I’m calling the police!” She waved her phone in the air and took another step. Wren slipped her purse from her shoulder and gripped the straps. She could swing it around and get at least two of the woman’s attackers. She carried all but the kitchen sink in her bag and it was hella heavy. “I mean it, assholes!”

The swirl of the lights stuttered, came together and gathered into a large multi-colored ball. And, oh crap, there were a lot of them.

An eerie quiet descended; even the gentle wind had stilled. Wren’s heart thumped double-time as adrenaline poured into her veins.

Then, those sparkles surged forward, racing from the end of the alley and right at her, rushing over the ground. And, fuck-tastic-ness, she didn’t hear a single footstep keeping time with the rapid approach of the lights.

Wren did the only thing she could think of. She ran. Spinning on her sneaker-clad heels, she dashed back the way she’d come and burst onto the sidewalk. She’d send someone back for the woman. Just as soon as she regained her sanity.

Her fat jiggled, breasts bouncing as she raced down the street, breath coming in great huffing puffs. One foot in front of the other, she ran as fast as her short legs could carry her. Damn her parents. Couldn’t they have been taller so that she would have been blessed with a longer stride?

A grating buzz crept upon her and she spared a glance over her shoulder. That was a mistake. Those lights definitely didn’t have a single club kiddie among them. No. The closer they came, the more detail she could make out.

Fairies. She was being chased by multi-colored, snarling, big-toothed fairies.

Oh, god. Fairies were supposed to be nice. Hadn’t they heard of Tinkerbell?

Growls seemed to surround her and she could feel the rhythmic beat of rushing air upon her back, small hands snatching at her hair as she ran. A sting of pain scratched at her neck and she cried out at the slicing hurt. Then another. And another.

Those lights washed over her then, surrounded her, and she batted at them as best she could, pushing the fairies from her face. God, how far had she run?

The little flying balls of evil grasped her arms, sunk their tiny teeth into her skin and she screamed again. They were everywhere, flashes of blue, pink, orange and yellow wrapped around her in a buzzing¸ pain-filled cloud.

She hadn’t realized she’d stopped until a large, cool hand enclosed around her arm and yanked her into an alley, the pitch-black air swallowing her.

A deep snarl enveloped Wren, wrapped around her like a comforting blanket.

How fucked was it that she was soothed by a snarl?

A large body stood before her. Wide shoulders covered in barely contained muscles blocked out the swirling lights that had surrounded her only moments before. Thank god, she’d found someone who was able to banish the hallucination.

Warm wetness slithered down her arms and she glanced at her body…blood, the red, viscous, life giving fluid flowed from dozens of suspiciously rounded wounds. She rubbed her face and winced at the ache that flared to life and the need to faint washed over her at what covered her fingers.

More blood.

A roar snatched her attention from her body, the sound followed by a flaring white light that blinded her for the briefest of moments and then blackness swallowed her whole.

For real this time. Because, well, she passed the fuck out.

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Big Bad Vamp

Tory has more bug-out bags and escape plans to get out of Atlanta than there are stars in the sky. And it appears she’s gonna need them. With her habit of digitally visiting different servers across the globe, she always figured she’d piss off the wrong people at some point. It looks like that day has arrived. Some crazy glitter throwing, wing-wearing weirdos are on her tail, and screaming “it wasn’t me” at them isn’t making them go away. With the sparkle freaks closing in, Tory has no choice but to call her fang-banging BFF for help. Finally, an über hunky vamp appears to whisk her to safety. Except she dies. Really. Dead-dead. Almost. See, the thing about it is…

The last thing Knight Protector Liam wants to do is rescue some purple-haired human, but he doesn’t get a say in the matter. So, he hunts her down and, instead of finding a paranoid woman, he finds a voluptuous beauty bleeding to death beneath a certain evil Pixie King. Then he does what any law-breaking vampire would do in such a situation: he saves her. Mostly. Well, she does die first, but it was only for, like, a minute. See, the thing about it is…

Read an Excerpt

“Vamp-ouston, we have a problem.” Tory kept her voice serious and calm. Because, hey, this whole deal was serious.

“What?” Her not-as-smart-but-still-cool BFF, Wren, sounded totally baffled, and Tory couldn’t blame her.

“Vamp-ouston? You know, like Houston, but with fangs and stuff.” Dude, it totally made sense. Especially since Wren was currently living with her long-term (as in forever) fangy boy-toy in a mansion filled with other fang bearing peeps.

Were vamps peeps though? ‘Cause peeps didn’t usually do the whole “never die, drink blood” thing. Huh. Something to ponder another day. She was too busy dealing with her impending capture-torture-death deal.


“Shh! Is this a secure line? You can’t say my name! You can’t lead them to me. Big Brother could be listening.” Did Wren not remember all of their studying of the “In Case Tory is Caught Digitally Visiting Others Illegally” plans?

“Okaaayyy.” Wren drew out the word. “Person who is not Tory, what are you talking about?”

After Tory saved herself, she was gonna chop her friend into itty-bitty pieces and serve her to the vamps. Wren tartar.

“The thing about it is…” How did one admit to seriously-what-the-fuck fucking up?

“Person who is not Tory, what the hell is going on?” Wren growled. She’d been doing that a lot since shacking up with that vampire.

Tory took a deep breath, searching for a peace that had been evading her since this morning. Of course, that time frame sorta coincided with a serious attack on her system, which she ended up tracing back to a recent victim of her “digital visitation”. Problem was, her breach of their system was still in progress. For some reason, even super-villain-bringer-downers like her had web speed problems just like everyone else in the world. The data dump of the servers was taking forevah.

“Remember Hyde Pinxton? The creep-tastic guy that, like, tried to hurt you and Griffin and stuff?”

A moan came across the line. “What’d you do?”

“Hypothetically…” Tory nibbled her lower lip. There was no hypothetical about it. Hyde Pinxton had done something super bad to Wren’s boyfriend Griffin, nearly killing him and freaking out Wren, and that kinda pissed Tory off. Oh, she hadn’t gotten the details on what went down since it was all “Protector business”, but there was no hiding the super-hate that went around when Pinxton was mentioned.

She took a deep breath and blurted out her sins. “I poked around the ‘net, redistributed money, and then ripped data from more than a handful of servers for posterity’s sake. If the info was connected to Pinxton, it got magically deleted. Like magically delicious Lucky Charms, but not. Because that doesn’t make a whole lotta sense.” She faked a laugh. “Cool, huh?”

The line went silent. Tory couldn’t even hear her BFF breathe, and then a soft whisper met her. “What?”

“I only looked at some of it as I was downloading. I was going for quantity, you know? Wren, this is some holy-shit shit. Like, things with wings, if you know what I mean. And I think you know what I’m talking about. I have no doubt that his guys are going to hunt me down. Soon. I’m watching them work, and they’ve gotten as far as Tokyo. I’ve got maybe fifteen minutes and then I’m a rabbit.”

Tory didn’t doubt that Wren had been hiding things since she’d gotten tangled up with the vamps and become a fang banger. She didn’t begrudge the secrecy. Really. Mostly. But her first foray into Pinxton’s files, the ones that were buried behind more encryption and digital walls than the freakin’ Central Intelligence Agency (she’d wanted to know who’d killed Kennedy, sue her), revealed some things that meant super shitty stuff for Wren. Dead, but not a vamp, kind of stuff.

“Oh, God, Tory.” The phone clattered, and she assumed Wren had dropped her cell.

Tory picked up talking as soon as her friend returned. “I’m fine. I’m grabbing some wings at the place off Whitehall, and then I’m out for a while.” What she actually meant was that she was heading to Central City Bank on the other side of town to make a withdrawal. Specifically, one of her bug-out bags she had hidden in a safety deposit box. It held clothes, cash, a couple of prepaid cell phones and false identification. Hell, she’d be using fake ID’s just to get into the vault.

“Wait, Tory. No…don’t. I’ll send one of the Protectors to get you. We can keep you safe. Why can’t you just, pull the plug or something? They can’t find you if you’re not connected to the internet, right? Doesn’t it work that way?” Wren pleaded with her, but a peek at her computer revealed that the fuckers had pinged her in Venice. Damn it.

“No can do. Download isn’t done just yet.” She nibbled her lip, watching the little progress bar grow and grow. “I’ll get the files to you as soon as I can. They mention some shit about you guys, but I have to beat feet, hon.” Phone cradled between her ear and shoulder, Tory grabbed her bag, stuffing in what she’d need for her escape.

She glanced at the progress bar and figured she’d been done in another five seconds. A few quick keystrokes and she had her system counting down to destruction as a cute little Care Bear danced across the screen. Hell, when she’d created the whole “no one was ever here” bit of pyrotechnics, the bear countdown had sounded cute. Now, she just wanted to punch the stuffed animal in its suckhole.


Download finally done, Tory snatched the storage card and popped it into its specially designed case. Then she dashed to the door. “Love you. And as soon as I know how bad I’ve fucked myself sans dildo, I’ll get in touch.”


“Did I mention I love you?” Tory didn’t wait for her friend’s response. The phone, like so many others, was a burner.

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Poking the Vamp

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Published: February 3, 2016
Length: Short Novel
Knight Protectors #3
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Kate saved him from dying (Again? He’s a vampire. She has no idea.) and Joce saved her from dying (by killing her). When she awakens as a vamp, she’s not sure it’s an even trade.

Joce Magli, vampire and Knight Protector, thinks of humans as food and nothing more.  Until he meets Kate—doctor, savior, and most delicious woman he’s ever tasted. And don’t get him started on all her lush curves… She is his and when circumstances force his hand—when it becomes a choice between life and death—he claims her forever.  Kate is his fire, his vampire mate, and then she’s actually on fire and there is the half-God trying to strangle her and… yeah, it’s been a bad day.

And it’s only going to get worse.


Read an Excerpt

A hospital emergency room was not the place for an eight hundred-year-old vampire. Ever. It didn’t matter that Kate was related to the woman currently standing in the middle of the emergency room, looking as if she’d just stepped off a Paris runway. She was still a vamp in a building filled with injured humans.

Easy pickings…

Dog tired, feet aching, and body pushing through her fatigue, Kate Bennett slowly made her way toward the statuesque woman. Before seeing the vamp, she’d looked forward to finishing the last two hours of her shift and then she had a date with her BFF that included waffles and then a night in a warm bed. Alone. Lola was her BFF but they weren’t that close.

Until she saw Galla.

All hints of exhaustion fled as adrenaline spiked in her veins.

Kate hadn’t anticipated seeing the woman for at least another six months. Like clockwork, Galla appeared on her doorstep on Kate’s birthday. Typically decked out in the latest European fashions and layers of jewels. She would blow into Kate’s home, make herself comfortable, and then they’d exchange blood. Well, Galla would prick her finger and give a droplet to Kate.

This timeless woman was two things to Katherine: 1) her grandmother many times over (ages were never ever discussed) and 2) a vampire. Vampiress? Regardless of what she was called, she’d long ago charged herself with looking after the Bennett family line. For some reason, she focused on Katherine in particular.

Galla had never given her a definitive reason as to why. But the woman had fangs so Kate wasn’t about to push. She also never understood why giving her a droplet of blood each year kept her “safe.” Galla’s words, not Kate’s.

Of course, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what was in the world that could threaten her.

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