What happens when a sexy vampiress and a panther shifter hook up? Magic and mayhem. DESIREE AFTER DARK #TinaDonahueBooks #ParanormalDatingAgency #EroticPNR
Do you love shifters and vampires and lust and romance?
Then do I have a tale for you…
Desiree After Dark – part of the Paranormal Dating Agency world.
Passion demands full surrender…
When it comes to men, Desiree’s had crappy luck, like her last boyfriend turning her before she realized he was a bloodsucker. Undead but wiser, she hosts an internet show—Desiree After Dark—to help women avoid users like him. However, his ex-girlfriend’s stalking Desiree, blaming her for stealing him away.
So not true, but escalating threats are coming hard and fast.
Enter tall, dark, and muscular Hunter, a bodyguard to die for. Recommended by the PDA, he’ll protect Desiree from any peril.
Would that include those to her heart from his heat, scent, and touch?
As a panther shifter, Hunter’s never been into vamps, but Desiree’s his fated mate. Before long, these unlikely lovers can’t keep apart during steamy nights and sensuous days.
But there’s trouble in paradise. The stalker’s upping her game, and Desiree has one last hurdle to overcome or she’ll never become Hunter’s…
A tall man, at least six-three, stood at a respectable distance in the hall. His firm jaw and rough good looks put him in his early thirties, hotter than Gerard Butler in 300. This guy certainly had as many muscles. They strained against his black T-shirt and snug jeans, the bulge between his legs forming a solid ridge behind his fly. His biker boots also kicked serious ass.
Her knees sagged. She gripped the door to stay upright. “You’re Hunter Klein?” Even his name was awesome. So were his bristly cheeks and throat. However, she didn’t like how he kept glancing from side to side. Searching for something or someone? “Did you see a woman lurking out there?”
“No.” He met her gaze.
Everything stopped, the air between them sizzling, intense heat settling in her pussy.
She dug her nails into the wood.
His eyes were the same color as dark chocolate, his hair matching the shade. Those locks tumbled over his ears and forehead, his complexion a deep bronze.
Again, he glanced to the right. “We should speak inside.”
She couldn’t manage a protest or more than a few steps to allow him entrance. The space so narrow he brushed against her, delivering his fragrance: a dangerously heady scent bringing to mind power, sex, and the animal within tinged by musk.
Weakened, she leaned against the wall for support.
He closed and locked the door, close enough to kiss.
Stop it. She reined in her idiotic feelings, the same ones that had delivered her to Zander.
Hunter regarded her. “Are you all right?”
Except for wanting to lick him from head to toe, sure. “Why do you ask?”
“You seem…” He scratched his neck.
His biceps bunched.
She liked that and his hesitation in telling her she was behaving like a loon. “I’m fine.” She shook off her lust, for the most part, and stuck out her hand. “I’m Desiree.”
“Hunter.” His firm grip warmed and caressed.
Her teeth tingled. If forced to wager, she’d bet he was an angel. No other being was this perfect. As Gerri had said, a hero. He certainly looked the part. “Are you human?” He couldn’t be.
She would have paid good money to see him turn into the animal he was, but wasn’t foolish enough to ask and betray her interest. Despite how great this was unfolding, she had a show to finish and a confession to make—in case Gerri hadn’t told him the truth or she didn’t know the full situation herself. “Do you know what I am?”
His eyebrows inched up.
She got clammy and pulled her hand from his.
He noted her reaction but showed no emotion. “You mean the host of your own show, a woman being stalked by a jealous rival, or that you’re a vampire?”
She winced at the vile word but feigned indifference. “All three, but especially the last.” In the paranormal world, bloodsuckers ranked lower than dung. Even zombies received more sympathy and regard. Now that she’d laid everything bare, she expected him to flee.
He hooked his thumbs in his front pockets. “Yeah, I know about you being turned. Not how though.”