By Michele Bardsley
The latest paranormal romance within the nationwide bestselling damaged center sequence everyone makes mistakes-and my first one used to be named Connor, a center- stealing Scottish hottie. i presumed our evening jointly was once the gorgeous starting to a love tale, which grew to become out to be my moment mistake. I, Phoebe Allen, lifelong damaged middle resident and vampire, am now mated to a half-demon. fortunately Phoebe's four-year-old son Danny is appropriately away at Disneyworld along with his human father. simply because Phoebe's correct in the course of significant paranormal drama, assisting Connor and his rag-tag staff of associates retrieve a part of an historical talisman so one can beat back Connor's vicious stepmother, an uber-demon named Lilith. Phoebe swears she isn't really falling for any of Connor's demon appeal. yet nonetheless, he is prepared to do whatever to guard her and forestall demons from storming into damaged middle. And her undead center cannot face up to a foul boy with identification issues...
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Extra info for Come Hell or High Water: A Broken Heart Novel (Broken Heart Vampires)
My body vibrated with expectation, as if what would unfold tonight would ruin me for all other experiences. Connor wrapped his arms around me and kissed me, and the world tilted. The heat of him snaked from his flesh to mine. His fingers skimmed and his tongue flicked, and then I was naked, but for the locket. He touched the gold heart that hid within it a picture of Momma and one of Danny, and I told him the story: how the locket was a family heirloom, how the first daughter received it on her eighteenth birthday.
Impulsiveness, thy name is Phoebe Allen. “Yes,” I murmured. ” He kissed me until my knees felt wobbly, and I knew, right then, that I was in for one hell of a night. Connor slid into the passenger seat as if he belonged there, Clyde to my Bonnie. I glanced at him and saw him staring out the window, his eyes lifted to the full moon. For a moment, he seemed as though he might be praying. Then he looked at me, and his eyes were not those of a penitent man. The house was dark, quiet. We both got out of the car, the muggy heat an insult after the cold of air-conditioning.
It was my mother’s voice, so gently chiding, and she was unable to keep the sparkle of humor from her eyes when trying to berate me. Even now she was the small, still voice in my head. Oh, Momma. This isn’t shoplifting a candy bar at the Thrifty Sip. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I know this is about you. So our mating wasn’t some altruistic scheme to protect poor ol’ me. You’re protecting yourself. ” And I’d probably ousted the good guys. Nicor had certainly danced around the subject enough.