By Jeaniene Frost
ISBN-10: 0062096265
ISBN-13: 9780062096265
Having narrowly prevented an (under)world struggle, Cat Crawfield desires not anything greater than a bit downtime along with her vampire husband, Bones. regrettably, her reward from New Orleans' voodoo queen simply retains on giving-leading to a private desire that sends them into conflict once more, this time opposed to a villainous spirit.
"Cat and Bones are flamable together." number 1 bestselling writer Charlaine Harris.
"The Frost identify promises quality!" Romantic instances.
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Sample text
Now, with potential enemies between us and the only weapons we could utilize aside from sticks and stones, what we’d done as a safety measure had turned out to be a huge liability. Bones cracked his knuckles, that lethal aura increasing until it prickled my skin with its energy. I strained my senses but couldn’t pick up on anything aside from Tyler’s concern and the sounds in the cave. Bones was older and stronger, so I didn’t doubt that he was right. This couldn’t be a hiking expedition stumbling across the cave by accident, either—we were in the middle of nowhere.
I pointed out. “If I’m checking out today, I’m doing it while looking good,” was his reply. I wanted to reassure him that he absolutely would not die, but the words stuck in my throat. I’d do my damnedest to protect Tyler, as he knew, but we were dealing with a strong, vicious spectre and a trap that might or might not work. It had successfully held Fabian, then Elisabeth, when we tested it yesterday, but to tell Tyler he wasn’t risking his life summoning Kramer would be a flat-out lie, and I wasn’t about to lie to someone I now counted as a friend.
Contempt curled around the fury in Bones’s emotions, but I fought against a snort. For all his talk about reading extensive reports on the undead, didn’t he know that many Master vampires could fly? Bones and I had endless miles of open space above our heads now that we were outside of the cave. Aside from looking showy, the guns pointed at us were as much of a threat as harsh language. “Crawfield,” Madigan began. “Russell,” I interrupted him, smiling sweetly. ” His features darkened with anger, but I didn’t care.
One Grave at a Time: A Night Huntress Novel by Jeaniene Frost
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