Realm of Shadows (Alliance Vampires)
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"An incredible storyteller." --Los Angeles Daily News
Every Nightmare Has Its Beginning
Tara Mason wants more than tourist sights out of her trip to the city of dreams, something strange and off the beaten path. But is it her own curiosity that draws her to an ancient cemetery on the outskirts of Paris? Or is she lured by a dark, immortal force she is powerless to resist? When she realizes someone is chasing after her, a shadowy figure getting closer and closer, how quickly the dream becomes nightmare. . .
In The Dead Of Night
He calls himself a guardian. He is sworn to protect the innocent from an evil most never see. Now that he has caught up to her in the abandoned ruins of a country estate, he insists Tara must trust him. She has carelessly exposed herself. The evil has seen her, but he vows it will not claim her. . .
crack shots. They weren’t budging, and from where they were, they could have a field day with troops approaching them—even the trained professional German soldiers who had been ordered to root them out. Still, they could only hold so long. The enemy powers had ordered those soldiers—family men, many of them, like their French and American counterparts—to give their lives, as many as need be, for the Fatherland. They’d just send more and more troops, night after night. Even if fifty of the enemy
sword. Arms suddenly slipped around her. The man who had been stroking the blond’s hair had come up, and she hadn’t been prepared. His fingers closed around her wrist, like hot iron biting into her flesh. She was desperate to hold on to the sword, but she couldn’t. She let it fall, but as she did, she grasped quickly beneath her coat for the stake, ramming it backward with all her strength. She heard him hiss with fury and pain; he fell back from her. But in front of her, one of the others was
and she meant to understand what was going on. “I went to the church, and they were allowing tourists into the ruins. I flirted with that ridiculous Professor Dubois, and learned that he was certain he was near to discovering the coffin of a noblewoman who had lived during the reign of the Sun King. She had been his mistress, but she had been ordered buried in unhallowed ground because of her evil practices. I kept at it as long as I could, and yet I was being urged out. They were closing down
evening . . . She was disturbed to find that she didn’t have enough money for all the purchases she wanted to make. Anger, or the thrill of her renewed power, nearly made her forget that she was in a crowded place. But she controlled herself, and she was glad, because she then found out about something called plastic that could be made into a card that worked better than money. And, of course, at the right moment, she was able to convince the shop girl that she had paid for everything that the
asked. “In the lot. And so is yours.” There wasn’t a great distance between the bar and the lot where people parked for La Guerre. But once they had left the neon glow of the bar behind, the street suddenly seemed very dark. It wasn’t the center of Paris, where lights burned brightly at all hours of the day and night. Old buildings, some ancient, and some only a century or two old, mingled with a few modern structures. By day they were businesses, some with apartments atop them, but by night