A Wicked Tale
Genre: M/M, Vampires, PNR
About the Book
Is the prospect of love worth dying for?
Vampires exist, and travel through space and time. Immortal, beautiful creatures. Neither dead, nor living.
Dane has no memory of being human. He only remembers waking after being unwillingly turned. He is left with a parchment with one single line written upon it: his human birthday. For this one day a year, he can live and die as a human. He is ready. It is time. 126 years after becoming a vampire, he is ready to die.
When he meets Jorge, with his dark good looks and brilliant blue eyes, Dane reconsiders his choice. Can he take back the life that was stolen from him by dying? Or can he make a life with a soulmate he never imagined having?
Available at ARe
Lissa Matthews has many loves in her life: Family, friends, NASCAR, football, music of all kinds, cooking, BDSM, and last, but not least, coffee. She loves it so much she and those who know her are surprised she hasn’t floated away on a caffeine-induced cloud while giving life to feisty heroines and hunky heroes.
Lissa’s love of romance came from every book she has ever picked up. No matter what she read, she fell in love with the written word. The promise of escape, the deep, intriguing characters, and the winding journey from beginning to end, constantly drew her into bookstores and libraries as she was growing up.
Her first stories were written in junior high and she kept it up through college. She would stay up late at night when her kids were little reading romance and still penning her own stories. In 2007, when she and her family moved to North Carolina from Florida, she began pursuing writing as a profession and she couldn’t imagine doing anything else… Well, except maybe writing in her own cupcake bakery/coffee shop. But that dream is a ways down the road… Lucky for Lissa, she believes in dreams coming true.
Lissa is married with two children and seven, yes, seven cats. She blames her oldest child for the cats.
For more information on other books by Lissa, visit her website: www.lissamatthews.com
That’s what it was. Like something he could wake up from one day.
Only he never woke up from it. It was there, this nightmare he called living, this never ending existence. He was neither dead, nor alive. He survived on blood and very rare cooked meats. He had money, more than he knew what to do with, more than he could spend in three lifetimes. He could walk in the evenings and in the pre-dawn hours. He could even be out in midday, so long as he never stepped foot in direct sunlight. And with the advances in science, he could appear to have a light tan with a regular application of self-tanning lotion.
He wasn’t like the fabled and fictional vampires in books and movies. Well, not entirely. He could feel, taste, smell, though most things felt odd against his fingertips, tasted bitter or overly sweet on his tongue, smelled like...? He didn’t have a word to describe the smells. Neither acrid nor lovely. Things just...smelled.
A burst of raucous laughter reached his ears and he turned from where he stood against the edge of the walkway, mere feet above the water. His restaurant and pub was in fine form tonight. It was one of several businesses he owned under a parent corporation he’d formed some years ago. Everyone was owned by someone else, so it didn’t look odd to anyone that his corporation owned a bar, a hotel, and a bookstore. There were several other small companies he owned or invested in, but those first three were his money makers.
The bookstore had been a surprise. He loved to read, especially historical thrillers, Victorian erotica, and letters from soldiers who’d died on battlefields. He hadn’t expected the place to make any money, but then he hadn’t counted on the number of people who loved the same type books he did. He also had a section from local Savannah families who’d loaned parts of their personal libraries out to him for display. They were much like museum pieces. Priceless, fragile, exquisite.
The bookstore was where he spent the majority of his time, talking of books and places he’d traveled, showing off the volumes he brought back from various parts of the world. The bookstore was his passion. It was the only thing he had that kept him from taking the step that was closing in on him once more.
His human birthday was the one day a year he and all other turned vampires became fully human. They could do anything any other flesh and blood and beating heart person could do. Even die.
Oh, he could die any other time, as well. All he had to do was walk into a stream of midday sunlight and the life force which held him together would disintegrate and he’d be nothing more than vapor. He wouldn’t sizzle and burn. He’d been told he’d barely feel a thing. Whether that was true or not, he didn’t know. But he was tired, felt as though his soul, what was left of it, was stretched thin and to the point of completely unraveling. Vampires could go mad and there were days, hours, where he thought he just might.
Then, he’d lose himself in a book and the feeling would pass, calm would settle in, and he’d be all right. Those times were passing more quickly than they used to and something told him the end was near. Vampires were immortal, but those made against their will felt the call of death in ways those who were made willingly, never did.
It was calling to him.