Princess of the Blood
Publisher: Soul Mate Publishing
Date of Publication: 10/19/16
Number of pages: 322
Word Count: 93,000
Cover Artist: Anna-Lena Spies
Tagline: Wary, high-heeled vampire finds sanctuary in the arms of a hot werewolf whose love ignites her worst nightmare.
Marie Josette d’Orgemont, cousin to Louis XVI, watched in horror, as a rogue creature took her husband’s life before turning on her. A powerful vampire swept in and spared her life, but she never suspected that surviving meant immortality or the price she’d have to pay to protect her surviving son.
Centuries later in Miami, with her family on the verge of extinction, Marie is preoccupied with the continuation of her human bloodline. When she meets sexy and persistent, Odin Ulfsson, his icy-blue gaze and burning touch are hard to resist.
Will a forbidden romance with the Nordic werewolf be the key to her happiness or will it set in motion a wrath that endangers not only her last human heir but her entire existence?
Marie Josette d’Orgemont maneuvered her black Bentley out of the South Beach traffic and onto the hedge-encased driveway of the Delano Hotel. Sliding in behind a glossy red Carrera, she killed the engine and turned in her seat to study her great-granddaughter, eight generations removed. “Are you ready?”
Abby nodded, but didn’t move. “I have something to tell you.”
Marie tensed. She knew of course. She’d known for days. But she clamped down on her emotions, so Abby didn’t read disappointment on her face.
“What is it, ma chérie?”
Abby took a deep breath and blurted, “I’m not pregnant.”
“Yes, of course you do.” With her confession in the open, Abby’s shoulders sagged.
Marie leaned over the gearshift and cupped her chin. “You are tired. You should be home with your books and not out with me all evening.”
“But you miss me when you go out alone.”
Abby was so protective you’d think she was the vampire and not the other way around. Marie smiled and brushed a light kiss on her forehead. “True. I always miss you. Let’s go then.”
They exited the Bentley and, after tipping the valet, ascended short steps past the porch with its beckoning white sofa. Indoors, the lobby stretched from end to end, dotted with massive white columns, flickering lights, and floor-to-ceiling curtains that reminded Marie of Versailles.
The white gossamer wisps billowed like ghosts as she glided past. She closed her eyes, giving in to the pull of her childhood home, of being reprimanded for chasing her cousin Louis down empty hallways. Princesses needed to appear as if their feet never touched the ground, as if they floated rather than walked. And they never, ever, ran. That was a long time ago.
Her hand went to the jeweled, cross pendant hanging between her breasts. It had been her mother’s and against her chest, it felt like the heartbeat she didn’t have.
A hot breath burned the top of her shoulder. She froze, realizing too late she had misread the werewolf signaling behind her. How could she have been so careless? She pushed all thoughts of Abby away and mentally prepared to fight.
He towered over her, at least seven feet tall. She was a petite five feet two inches with maybe another four in heels. Despite the differential between them, what disturbed her was his stealth and agility. He had crept up behind her without her sensing him.
As he breathed, he edged closer and closer until their bodies touched and the heat emitting from his body seared through her like brushfire.
A wave of desire, fanned by the heat of his skin, coursed through her with such momentum she swayed toward him. She was dimly aware of the sheer insanity of her predicament. One minute she was fighting a lesser of his kind and the next she swelled with desire for this werewolf. What was happening to her?
He leaned into her and nudged her neck.
She couldn’t move, could only stand there and suffer the exquisite heat of their bodies molded together.
He growled, and she closed her eyes, absorbing his scent. Unlike what she had just fought, he smelled like the earth scorched by sunlight. He was exciting, and images of a blazing hearth and tangled limbs came to mind. She wanted him and the realization was as surprising as it was embarrassing.
She tilted her face up and was immediately lost in the gold depths of his eyes, more human than beast. Different. Time and place disappeared into nothingness.
He reached for her finally and the movement snapped their connection.
“State your business,” she hissed. Her hands closed into fists.
“Enough, dog.” She struck him, jolting him backward. He was quicker and bigger than the others but still no match for her. Or was he? She dismissed the errant thought. He was just an animal and she was a Princess of the Blood with the essence of an ancient master running through her.
Catching him by the mane, she flipped him forward. The huge blond and silver-haired thing landed hard in front of her, but immediately recovered, jumping up into an offensive position. He growled, but didn’t attack. He backed away as upright as a human, with hind claws that clanked on the gravel.
His neck stretched and the aura around him thickened and sizzled. After a couple of pops, he shifted from wolf mixture into full naked human.
About the Author:
Jane Ederlyn is the alter ego of a writing duo from South Florida.
Jane, a registered nurse by day, by night lives to create havoc and conflict in their stories, relentlessly strategizing ways to kill off one more character.
Ederlyn, a cruise-line professional by day, by night loves to plot meticulous happily-ever-afters for the hero and heroine, often battling Jane to save her favorites.
They can usually be found at their favorite Barnes and Noble sipping lattes and pondering “what ifs?” or at the mall shoe shopping.
Twitter: Jane Ederlyn @ediojeda