Title: A Hunter's Angel
Series: The Hunter's Dagger #1
Author: Cera Dubois
Genre: Supernatural Fiction, Paranormal Romance
Elements: Vampires
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Format:
ASIN: B008MZ5ONS
Release Date: July 18, 2012
Source: Tour Host {Bewitching Book Tours}
Rating:
Tagline(s): ~NONE~
Summary: The serial killer
stalking Clayton, Pennsylvania, isn’t all that has Chief of Police Grace
Wallace worried. For a year, she’s tried to forget Special Agent Ian
McHenry and now he’s the expert the FBI sent to catch the killer. She
can’t stay away from him, but something primal is telling her to run to
save much more than just her heart.
Despite the strict code of ethics Ian
vowed to follow as a vampire hunter, he craves Grace’s blood above all
others. If he chooses to stay, Ian risks losing his chance at divine
forgiveness.
But if he leaves Grace unprotected from the evil he’s hunted for over a century, he loses more than just his soul…
Review:
REVIEW WILL BE POSTED LATE. SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE.
Excerpt:
“I’m
in love with the man inside the vampire.” Grace moved her hand to thread
through his silky hair. When she rested the other over his heart, a soft sigh
escaped his lips. Underneath her palm, the slow beat was barely noticeable.
His
thumb grazed her cheekbone and slowly trailed down to the hollow of her throat.
Her breathing quickened at the zinging anticipation as he caressed the pulse
point where he’d claimed to have taken blood from her. He glanced at the spot
with eyes as haunted as he sounded. “I’m not a man.”
“But
you were once.”
He
met her gaze again. “Yes, once.”
His
fingers lingered over her pulse. Her heart raced under his touch. She tilted
her neck as if his touch awakened some base instinct to offer the sacrifice.
“Do you still want my blood?”
Ian
stepped away and locked his wide-eyed gaze onto hers. At last, he rasped, “No,
I don’t want your blood. Oh, God, I still crave it. You have the sweetest I’ve
ever had, but I will never hurt you again.”
She
didn’t know what possessed her to do so, but she whispered, “You can
take...some of it.”
He
closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he acidly said, “No, Grace. I can
never taste your blood again. It would kill you.”
Fear
of what she’d wanted him to do tumbled through her. She stepped away, and for a
moment, she considered telling him to leave. How did she know any of this was
real? She couldn’t imagine she’d ever freely offer a vampire her blood. Did she
really believe him? He was sucking her into his insanity. But if this was true
and he could make people do things against their will, maybe he could control
her feelings.
“Maybe
I should go?” Ian backed away another step and headed toward the counter where
he’d left his dagger. He turned back to her with the sheath in his hand. Her
heart shattered with the knowledge that, if he walked out the front door, she’d
never see him again. “Goodbye, my sweet angel.”
His
jagged murmur ripped at her soul as his eyes took on a blazing intensity and
snared hers. She felt a pressure in her mind, and she knew what he intended to
do. He wanted to erase her memories of him.
No!
About this Author:
Cera duBois has a strong belief in never
giving up on your dreams… Although Cera was unable to read due to
dyslexia and a learning disability until she was in the fourth grade,
she always had a story to tell. She wrote her first novel in eleventh
grade when she had to keep a journal for her academic English class.
Since her life was far from exciting
growing up as a farm girl in West Central Pennsylvania, she decided to
rely on her imagination to give her something to write about. Over the
course of the school year, she wrote a tangled romance set in the Deep
South during the Civil War.
Becoming an author was her ultimate
dream. Despite holding a BS in secondary social studies education from
Penn State University, she currently works full-time as a medical
secretary.
A mother of a teenage son and pre-teen
daughter, she lives near Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, with her husband of
nearly 20 years. If she isn’t sitting in a quiet corner with her laptop,
warm days will find her in the English garden surrounding her house.
Cera loves to read and is interested in history, romance, science
fiction and the paranormal.
She also writes contemporary Westerns under her real name of Sara Walter Ellwood.
CONTACT LINKS:
Guest Post by Cera Dubois:
Thank
you so much for having me today.
I’d
like to share the eighth installment of my series of short stories, entitled The
Vampire Encounters. As I hop around the internet these next few weeks,
I’ll be sharing a part of each story. The story has four parts, with each part
broken into two—except the last, it’s broken up into three sections. So, come
follow me, as I interview (Ann Rice style) the four vampires from A
Hunter’s Angel...
The
Vampire Encounters—Vivian
(van Dyke) Pomeroy
PART 2:
The
Monk and the Tavern Wench
Chapter
1
The
clank of swords echoed off the stone walls of the castle. Vivian followed the
sounds down the narrow, winding staircase to the arena where the master
conducted his training.
Before
she reached the arched opening, she heard a grunt of pain and a vile curse.
“You
must stop fighting like a mortal. You are a good swordsman, but your movements
are not fast enough,” the master said.
“I
know. Damn it.” Ian’s irritation came through is voice. “I haven’t held a sword
in over a century.”
Vivian
stopped in the opening and stared. The master and Ian stood in the middle of
the dueling circle carved in the stone floor. Both men were naked to the waist.
She’d long ago lost interest in Ian’s broad shoulders and corded muscles,
though the raw slash on his biceps drew a flash of concern. But she didn’t
study her fledgling’s physique longer than a second. Her eyes stuck on the
master.
The
torch light played a game of dark and light over his broad back. The muscles
rippled under his pale skin. What would it be like to be under all that
glorious man? Heat boiled through her veins and coalesced in the pit of her
stomach, resulting in a gush of wet wanton lust in her core. She’d gasped at
the desire, never before feeling such a powerful response to any man.
Both
men turned and looked at her. Ian’s brow drew together as he stared at her, and
she realized the smelled her response. Damnation.
“I…ah
…I’m sorry…to interrupt.” But she
couldn’t make herself move.
Ian
must have sensed that her response wasn’t to him through their blood bond. They
mostly had it sealed off, but sometimes she’d lower her shields when a strong
emotional response rattled her.
Realizing
she wanted a man as unattainable as a vampire master was bound to rattle
anyone. Especially with him staring at her with narrowed black-brown eyes that
didn’t return the emotion. If anything, the master looked upon her with utter
disdain.
Ian
cleared his throat, but before he could speak, the master spoke in that
refined, slightly accented voice. “We are finished for today. I will take my
leave.”
He
returned his sword to a bench and headed for the far end of the large space.
The door led to a labyrinth of tunnels and traps to his private lair.
Ian
cocked an eyebrow at her as he pulled his tunic over his head. The silent
prompting brought more heat to her cheeks.
“Master?”
She could barely get enough air over her frozen vocal cords to make the word.
The
vampire stopped but didn’t turn around. She glanced at Ian, searching for some
sort of encouragement. He jerked his chin toward the powerful man who saved
them both by taking them in and teaching them how to live without killing.
Without the bloodlust gluttony that had been her reality since she became a
vampire two-hundred-fifty years ago. Then Ian seemed to disappear in front of
her eyes as he raced out of the room with preternatural speed.
The
master turned as if surprised to find her still standing by the door. He
glanced at the opening behind her. “You should follow your mate.”
The
quiet command floored her. Didn’t he know the truth? “Ian is not my mate.”
He
drew those brows together again. “You turned him.”
She
glanced away in shame. “I was following the orders of my mistress. But I never
loved Ian, not as a mate, at any rate.”
The
master shifted his shoulders higher; his stance seemed to stiffen even more.
“You were his paramour, were you not?”
She
met his ageless, dark eyes. “Yes. However, Ian and I have not been together in
such fashion for over half a century. He is not whom I came looking for.”
His
heavily muscled chest stopped rising and falling, and she knew he wasn’t
breathing. “What do you want, woman?”
You.
“To train as a warrior—a hunter.”
He
turned toward the door. “No.”
She
panicked as she realized how much she wanted to learn how to kill those who
didn’t follow Master Pomeroy’s code. Snatching one of the daggers from the
table, she held it high. “Why not? I am strong.” She sent a blast of her power
out over the room. The torchlight flickered and the master turned. The ivory
handle of the sheathed silver dagger strapped to his thigh twinkled in the
yellow wavering light from the torches. “I’ve never been a flower to be left to
wither in a vase. I learned a long time ago to protect myself.”
She
moved closer to him. Her heart pounded and her breaths came fast. But her hand
was steady as she moved the long iron practice blade in a slow circle before
her. The most damage the blade could do to a vampire was damage the skin and
draw blood. Only a hawthorn stake or a sliver blade through the heart or
decapitation could kill a vampire, but she wasn’t interested in killing the
master.
“I
learned to use a knife to protect myself from those who might want to prey upon
me. I can learn how to use a hunter’s dagger to protect those I once preyed upon.” She held the
dagger straight up and down in front of her face and genuflected upon the
ancient floor of the castle, bowing her head as if he were the vampire king who
had once lived within these thick stone walls and she some kind of knight.
“Rise,
woman. There is only one Being you should bow before and I am not Him.”
Lifting
her gaze to the master, she had a hard time remembering that Lucas Pomeroy,
vampire master, despised vampire hunter, had once been a monk. Of course,
looking at his broad shoulders, heavily muscled arms and chest, powerful legs,
he didn’t look much like a monk. He reminded her of a gladiator. He stood with
his hands on his hips, his feet apart, and his head hanging low. He muttered
something in Latin—a prayer for strength? But for what? He was the strongest
man she’d ever known. When he met her gaze, his eyes flashed red, and his power
washed over her. She shivered from the force of it and from the fire burning
her core, but did not show her lust.
“I
will train you.” He heaved a breath. “Though I do not like the idea of you
fighting.”
She
stood and tossed him the dagger within her hands. “Because I am a female?”
He
easily caught the handle in mid-air and looked at the long blade. “No, because
it shall be you.”
His
soft tone of voice halted her as she reached for another dagger from the table
of swords and knives. He didn’t want her to fight? Was he afraid for her? She
turned and stared at Lucas. His face pinched, his brows drawn low over dark
eyes. No, he didn’t want her fighting because he wanted nothing to do with her.
He’d
never hid his dislike of her.
Damn
him, she’d show him she could do this. Snatching up a dagger and gathering her
skirts within her left hand, she sneered and let her fangs descend, the drops
of venom from their tips cloying on her tongue. Her power zipped through her
veins and strengthened her resolve.
And
as he stared at her, she attacked. When he jumped away from the slashing sweep
of her dagger, he bowed his head and surprised her with a smile. Then he, too,
lost the glamour that made him appear human. His eyes burned a demonic red—a
gift from the demon that had turned the former man of God—and his long,
snake-like fangs descended. She inhaled the spicy sweetness of his venom, and
her body responded with a gush of wetness between her legs.
She
wanted to taste his kiss. She wanted him to crawl inside her and never leave.
He
must have caught the fragrance of her blooming desire as he struck and
misjudged the sweep of his dagger. His slash was a shock to her, and she was
too late to parry the upward motion of the blade as it sliced through the
fabric of her gown and the corset below. The two sides of her dress fell open,
and her breasts tumbled out of their cloth prison.
They
both froze and stared at each other. His eyes held to her breasts with powerful
glue. Her nipples puckered from both the cold air and from the force of his red
gaze. A blast of desire of the likes she had never known hit her senses. And it
wasn’t hers.
“Lucas?”
she whispered his given name for the first time. If she was feeling his
emotions, that could only mean one thing.
He
raised his eyes to hers. The red glow of his lust bled away and was replaced by
dark brown of regret. Before she knew what he was doing, he turned and raced
through the door to the labyrinth of tunnels and traps to his lair.
“Lucas!”
She dropped the dagger in her hand. As it clunked and rattled on the stone
floor, she ran through the door. “Lucas, we have to talk about this.”
But
he was already gone. The master never let anyone into his lair and attempting
to find it was a suicide mission. She calmed her senses and reached out with
her emotions and mind. It was impossible to read another vampire’s mind, unless
a bond was formed. She and Ian shared a mental connection because his blood ran
in her veins and hers in his. The only other mental bond was a…
Oh,
God in Heaven, she didn’t even want to think such a thing. Her heart raced as
her mind tuned in on Lucas’s confusion and held on with a death grip. She
picked up her skirts and raced through the dark maze following the vampire
master to his lair.
***
To
find out more about A Hunter’s Angel check out my website (http://ceradubois.wordpress.com/a-hunters-angel-the-book-tour/)
for a schedule of my blog stops during the book tour. I will be presenting a
series of short stories called The Vampire Encounters. Follow me as
I interview Ian McHenry, Master Vampire Lucas Pomeroy, Vivian van Dyke Pomeroy,
and have a scary run-in with Shane Chamberlain. Hope to see you along the way.
Contest:
Please
leave a comment and your email address to be eligible. (Sorry, only USA and
Canada residents are eligible for any prize that needs to be mailed.
Non-residents and residents of USA are eligible for free PDF copy.)
*
Two Lucky Posters will get a PDF copy of Bloodwine. (for info on this short
story check out my website)
*1st Stalker Prize: Every Poster will be
entered into a drawing for a chance at a $5 gift certificate from The Wild Rose
Press (four to be given away)—drawing to happen on September 1.
*2nd
Stalker Prize: Every Poster will also be entered into a drawing of a $25 gift
card from either Amazon or Barnes and Noble (winner’s choice)—drawing to happen
on September 1.
Blurb for A Hunter’s Angel:
The serial killer stalking Clayton,
Pennsylvania, isn’t all that has Chief of Police Grace Wallace worried. For a
year, she’s tried to forget Special Agent Ian McHenry and now he’s the expert
the FBI sent to catch the killer. She can’t stay away from him, but something
primal is telling her to run to save much more than just her heart. Despite the
strict code of ethics Ian vowed to follow as a vampire hunter, he craves
Grace’s blood above all others. If he chooses to stay, Ian risks losing his
chance at divine forgiveness. But if he leaves Grace unprotected from the evil
he’s hunted for over a century, he loses more than just his soul…
Tour Hosted by Bewitching Book Tour
.JPG)
I became a writer at a young age, but my moment of enlightenment came after watching the movie You’ve Got Mail. It was then that I realized my place in life and I happily parked my butt on romance. My dream was to create sexy vixens, hunky, half naked heroes, and above all, romance; lots and lots of butterflies in the belly, breathless first kisses and happily-ever-afters. 
