Blood Rage (The Dream-Walker War #1)by Tory Michaels
4/5 Stars
Published July 23rd 2012 by Evernight Publishing
Book Description:
For eighty years
since the Great Awakening, humans and non-humans have lived in relative peace
together. That peace is threatened when three bodies turn up less than a mile
from the Bureau of Non-Human Affairs in Tampa bearing the signature of vampires
who once terrorized Europe.
The Bureau’s chief liaison to the vampires, Dara MacKechnie,
learns that the Tampa victims are not alone when her ex-lover, and head of the
vampire’s Great Council, Anthony Caldwell comes calling.
The pair discover the lie that separated them two centuries
ago only banked their passion, not extinguished it. Dara must decide whether
she can trust Anthony with her heart a second time as they try to head off the
war that threatens all they hold dear.
Review:
This book was refreshing; the fact that humans and vampires lived
together pretty much in peace really had my interest. The characters, well I
just loved them! Dara has to be my favorite so far I love her “I’ll kick your
ass and take names later” attitude! That is one woman who won’t take crap from anyone!
The storyline was great well thought out
and written with an old/modern feel to it. This is defiantly one story that
will keep you reading and interested till the very end!
Excerpt:
Instinct helped her draw back before
she took more than she should. Dara sucked in air, trying to wipe away the addictive
taste of him even while she absorbed the new details about his true nature.
“Good lord,” she said against
his throat. “Wow doesn’t seem quite adequate.” The exchange was bliss itself,
but ultimately left her unfulfilled. Her body throbbed with it, and she felt
the same need in him, rock-hard desire pressing up against her core through
their clothes. Dara shifted, trying to alleviate the pressure trapped between
her thighs.
Anthony’s arm around her
waist tightened, holding her still. He groaned, teeth grinding together. “I
suggest, my pet, you stop moving if you wish me to remain a gentleman. There’s
a reason exchanges take place during sex.”
Her mouth fell open. Chris
had mentioned something of that nature on more than one occasion.In for a
penny, in for a pound, Dara
reasoned. It would be better than walking away right then, knowing they wanted
the same thing. Maybe a second night would quench the lust, and she could let
go of the need, the hunger for him he created just by breathing.
She shifted, straddling his
lap to settle more firmly against the erection that bulged in his jeans and
wrapped her arms around his neck. She felt reckless right then. A second night
wouldn’t hurt anyone or anything. Dara found the notion liberating. “Do you
really want me to stay still, Tony?”
His dark eyes glittered with
familiar intensity as he clutched her hips. His mouth curled up at one corner.
“Don’t call me that.”
“What?” She leaned forward
and nuzzled the side of his neck, just above the tiny marks from where she had
bitten him, and reached for the button on his jeans. “I don’t know. I rather
like it. Sarah might be onto something with that. Tony Caldwell, man about
town. Maybe I can convince you to like it.”
Anthony groaned as she slid
the zipper down, shifting back on the couch. “Unlikely, but you can always try
to convince me. What do you propose to do?”
Dara trailed her fingers just
inside the waistband of his pants, toying with the firm flesh there. “I have an
idea or two. It might be easier if you took your pants off though.”
“Are you going to
reciprocate?” He set her own her feet before standing, towering over her.
She grinned up at him, easing
the pants over his narrow hips until she could cup the rampant erection he
sported. “Wasn’t planning on it quite yet.”
He shucked the pants off the
rest of the way, kicking them to one side. A heartbeat later, his shirt joined
the heap on the floor. Dara leaned back to admire the gorgeous sight he made,
standing there totally nude. Oh, to have her camera, take a picture to remember
this night for the rest of her existence, long after they moved on. Broad
shoulders, chiseled abs leading down to his waist, with only a faint sprinkling
of body hair.
She slowly circled him,
trailing her fingertips over his middle, watching with delight as goosebumps
rose in their wake.
****
Anthony held up his hands,
watching her as she paused in front of him, clearly debating her course of
action. It was a bit of a role reversal, as he was well-used to having her
naked while heremained
clothed. But he was inclined to give her her head and see where she led. “Now
what?”
“Sit.” In that effort, she
rested her hands, silky smooth and warm, on his chest to urge him down.
Yes, he liked this more
decisive, assertive woman. He cherished the memory of her innocence and
enthusiasm, but he found it quite alluring, a woman who knew what she wanted.
And clearly she wanted something beyond the obvious. He settled back on the
couch, arms spread along the back. If he didn’t, he’d reach for her and end
this now. Control, Anthony,
control.
His breath caught in his
throat when she dropped to her knees between his legs and took him in her
hands, stroked along his length. His world narrowed to just the two of them,
everything not her fading rapidly as he thought only of the soft hands
caressing him, something he’d long feared might never happen again. Anthony
groaned. “You’re going to kill me, woman.”
A tiny, teasing smile crossed
her face. “La petite mort, yes. That’s certainly the idea,” she said,
cupping his balls. Warm breath tickled the length of him as she spoke.
His hands clenched into
fists. He wouldn’t be able to take much of this, or he’d thoroughly disgrace
himself by coming too soon. When she took him in her mouth, his eyes crossed. Gods, yes. If Odin himself popped in and offered
to take him off to Valhalla, he would turn the god down in a heartbeat, just to
stay like this. It’d been so long.
****
Dara allowed herself a satisfied
mental smile at his raspy growl and swirled her tongue around his cock,
continuing to caress him. He’d never let her get away with calling him Tony,
but it’d been an excellent segue to this.
Her eyes closed as his
fingers speared into her hair, massaging her scalp even as he slowed her pace.
“Such a talented mouth, pet,”
he said, tugging strands free from the braid trailing down her back. “I’ve miss
this so damned much.”
The words echoed round and
round her head, and she hummed with satisfaction, drawing another long,
tortured groan from him. And then voices from the past exploded from her
subconscious, rough hands pulling at her. Such
a good little pet. Dara
choked.
“No!” She fell back,
scrabbling away on the floor. Voices pressed in on her, upper-crust British
accents, laughter, and pain. The newly recovered memories dug their claws in,
and she buried her face in her knees, trying to force them back.
Blood Rage Buy Links
Blood-Mage Rising (The Dream-Walker War #2)
4/5 Stars
Published April 12th 2012 by Evernight Publishing
Book Description:
Blood Rage was just the beginning. Blood-Mage Rising runs
contemporaneously with Rage.
In the eighty years since the Great Awakening, humans and
non-humans have lived side by side, relatively at peace. In an attack that
leaves his wife dead, Jordan MacNaught is caught up in the start of a war meant
to turn the other races against the vampires. He knows beyond a doubt the
vampires of yesteryear are not involved in the attacks. They're all dead,
except for him.
Jordan asks for Chris Javert's help in hunting those who
murdered his wife. She's no stranger to hunting vampires. After all, she nearly
destroyed Jordan when she ended the reign of his Aristocrats in Europe two
hundred years ago.
Barely convinced of his innocence, but determined not to let
the interspecies peace she helped foster die, Chris joins forces with the man
who once tried to kill her to stop the Aristocrats before it's too late.
Review:
Wow Tory really knows how to shake things up! This was not
what I was expecting at all in this 2nd book and I loved it! New
characters were introduced and old ones also revisited. The intense emotion of
the characters really pulls you in along with the storyline. I can’t wait to read more about this world and
have some of my other questions answered. The only reason this was a 4 instead of
a 5 was because sometimes I found Chris to be a little whiny sometimes. But it
did not stop me from loving this book! I’d defiantly recommend reading it!
Excerpt:
Despite the disturbing turn to her daydream, the shower centered
her. It certainly ended her bout of the hornies. When she exited the frosted glass
enclosure into the steam and gardenia-scented room, Chris could face the world,
and Jordan, again. Cool marble tile provided a sharp contrast against the balmy
miasma blanketing her. She needed to get dressed and back to work.
“It’s about time you got out,” Jordan said as he materialized,
seated on the edge of the counter between the sink bowls. His legs dangled over
the edge.
“Son of a—” Chris yelped and leaped for her towel.
He blinked slowly, warning, and she just caught herself before the last word
slipped out. The last time she called him a son of a bitch, he buried her alive
for disparaging his mother. For some reason, he objected to the pejorative,
even though rumor had it he’d killed his mother at some point. She clutched at
her towel like a shield.
“What are you doing in here?”
“To quote a certain someone, I should think that it’s fairly
obvious. I wanted to talk to you.” He flashed a smile, fangs just barely
showing, and leaned his weight back on his palms. “You know, Chrissy, if you’d
just given me a bit longer, you wouldn’t have had to resort to alternative
methods.”
She might be claustrophobic, but right then she wanted the floor
to open up and swallow her whole. Dear God. Her reflection turned a nice,
brilliant, beet red, and she looked around for her bathrobe, finally finding it
slung over the door that separated the toilet from the main portion of the
room. “Mother of Lorminstra, you perverted jackanapes!”
Jordan blinked again, the picture of innocence. “I am the perverted one? Which one of us
just masturbated in the shower?”
This absolutely can’t be happening. Please let this
be a continuation of the weird-ass dream. Chris
snatched her robe down and yanked it on, surreptitiously pinching her side in
the process. Pain flared and dissipated. Unfortunately, the bathroom invasion
continued unabated.Damn, no dream. She
belted the flimsy scrap of silk, not feeling much more secure than with the
towel. “You could have waited five minutes.”
“I did. Then, when you still didn’t emerge, I thought I’d wait in
here.”
Since the universe didn’t see fit to rescue her by sending a great
bolt of lightning or a tsunami to kill her, she needed to brazen the situation
out. And had her shower really taken that long? Good lord.
“What was so important you couldn’t wait? And while there’d better
not be a next time, next time let me know you’re there. I could have
finished...ah, I could have gotten, ah, ….”
There really wasn’t a good way to end that statement, and she
floundered. He didn’t seem inclined to rescue her either, judging by his grin. Asshole. The recently departed
headache began to squeeze her temples again.
“I wouldn’t have enjoyed it half as much if I had interrupted,
unless I joined in.”
“Well, why didn’t you?” In her brief glimpse before she bent at
the waist and flipped her hair over her head to begin toweling it dry, she got
good visual confirmation that he definitely enjoyed the view. Must have been in
mist form to see much, given the frosted glass that surrounded the shower.
“And get my clothes wet? Don’t be absurd.”
“A normal person would join me.” She wrung her hair out with more
force than strictly necessary. “Now, explain what was so important you felt the
need to become a Peeping Jordan, and then get out!”
“I think you need to have another go in the shower, if you’re
still this waspish.”
Anthony would thank her if she killed him.
“I’ll make this brief. You’re fond of gambling, aren’t you?”
“What of it?” She continued to rub viciously with the towel, not
sure she followed him yet. “I’m fond of lots of things.”
“Earlier, you propositioned me.”
Chris choked. “I did no such thing!”
“Then what would you call it?”
“Losing my mind.”
Jordan chuckled. From her upside down position, she saw his legs
stop swinging as he leaned forward. “I propose a bet. Just to make our time a
little more interesting, although I doubt it will beat what I just saw.”
She purposely ignored the latter half of his statement. Finished
with her scalp she moved on to the longer portion of her hair.
“If you win, I will walk the straight and narrow for, hmmm. Two
decades should be impetus enough, even for you. While not admitting to having
done anything that might get me in trouble under your country’s Rights and
Responsibilities Act, I promise not to indulge in any of my more exotic
entertainments for that period. No murder, no torture, nothing of that nature.”
Her eyes widened, and she stood, towel held loosely in her right hand. “I
thought that might garner your exclusive attention.”
Mouth dry, she swallowed hard. For that offer, he wanted something
big in return. “And if I lose?”
“I get your blood. More specifically, we forge a blood-bond.”
No chance in hell.
Though she wanted to say the words, she didn’t. If she rejected
him out of hand without a good reason, he might wonder. Vampires commonly
shared blood. It wasn’t safe for her to do, since most people would feel
obligated to turn her over to the Circle for execution if they figured out what
she was.
She couldn’t dismiss the possibility he’d offered the bet to see
how desperate she was to avoid sharing blood. In that case, she should say yes
and win, no matter the cost.
“Quite the stakes. What’s the bet?”
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Author Bio
Originally from the Sacramento Valley, Tory
packed up and moved all the way to Southwest Florida in 2004 with her husband
(a Florida native) under the premise that ‘hurricanes almost never hit that
part of the state.’ That year, 4 blasted the area. 4 more came the following
year, and her husband blames her for bringing the hurricanes. She now resides
in Jacksonville and is relieved that, thus far, no more hurricanes have
followed her around.
She began writing in kindergarten when a turnip wished to be human
and, other than a hiatus shortly after getting married, has never stopped. Her
love of vampires began somewhere in junior high, and combining the two loves
didn’t take long. She loves music, considers herself a ‘book slut’ whose
reading habits would break her family financially if given free reign, and is
(usually) delighted to be a mommy of twin Shrimpettes and a Shrimp.
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