Parker and Amara's book title has been chosen! Blood of the Maple will be out in Spring 2011. The excerpt page is up on my website and can be gotten to from either the cover above or by going to the Coming Soon page of my website.
You could check out this (UNEDITED) glimpse into Parker's witchy past...
The California Desert, Some Time In The 1960’s …
“You know, my friend told me you were a witch, but I didn’t know he meant it literally.”
Parker clutched the bars of his cage and stared at the hippie chick he’d shagged just a few nights before. Damn, she’d been a sweet piece, too, tasty on the inside and the outside. A rare combination, and one he’d planned on sampling again before moving on. She had the sweetest hazel eyes he’d ever seen, and a mouth that could suck-start a Cadillac.
Too bad she’d taken exception to his little dalliance with the daisy-crowned flower child the night before. He’d been caught with his fangs down, and now the little witch was going to extract some freaky revenge. From the way her huge cauldron bubbled he wouldn’t be surprised if she tried to boil him alive.
“I worked pretty hard to get you into my bed.”
Parker blinked. He didn’t know if he should be flattered or terrified.
Never mind. He knew. Terrified. She stirred the mess in the cauldron and it was all he could do not to scream like a little girl. Okay, more terrified. He might be a vampire, hunter of the night and all around bad-ass, but a woman who felt scorned was still fucking scary. “You did?”
“Mm-hmm.” She tossed something he couldn’t see into the bubbling goo. The stench coming from it was foul beyond comprehension. What the hell had she put in there? And was it going to touch any part of him? He didn’t think there was enough tomato juice in the world to get that scent washed off.
“I’m flattered.” He thought back. He’d first caught sight of her dancing around a bonfire during one of the numerous parties his friends had thrown. She’d looked utterly edible and smelled divine. “I remember you dancing.”
She smiled like he’d handed her a gilded rose. “Yes!” She drifted by him, her voice dreamy, her expression serene. “I called you to me. You couldn’t resist my allure.”
Someone needs to stop taking the brown acid. “Look, it was nice and all, but—”
Parker shook his head, his ears ringing. Damn, she could shriek.
“I let you into my temple and you desecrated it!”
Oh now, hold on a moment. “You begged me to ‘desecrate’ it!”
She pointed the sharp end of her white handled knife at him. “You cheated on me.”
He was starting to get annoyed. “You have to be in a relationship to cheat. All we did was party together. Horizontally.”
Her eyes teared up. “I thought I meant something to you.”
Aw shit. Humor the crazy lady. “We did.” He grasped the bars and rattled them. He still didn’t understand why he couldn’t just mist and drift through them, but when he’d tried he’d almost passed out from the pain. “We still could.”
She nodded eagerly. “Yes. And to make sure it never happens again, I’ve come up with a plan.”
Uh-oh. He gaped. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t worry, my love. You’ll never need to feed off of anyone else ever again.”
He felt the blood drain from his face. “You know?” When he’d thought about being caught with his fangs down he hadn’t meant it literally. How could she have found out? Like all vampires, he’d made sure the feeding was obscured in her mind. All she should have remembered was a sharp nip, the only physical reminder a tiny hickey.
Greg could have warned him if her lack of memory loss was due to her being a real witch.
Oh wait. Greg had warned him, to, as he put it, “Stay away from the crazy.” Too bad he he’d listened to his prick instead of his best friend.
She turned back to the cauldron bubbling away on her campfire. The smell coming from it was truly vile. “That you’re a Nosferatu?”
He winced. “I prefer vampire, myself.” Nosferatu made him think of that spindly, ugly-ass guy in the black and white film. Parker might not be Tony Curtis, but he sure as hell wasn’t that guy either.
She gave him the sweet smile that had led him to her bed. “Of course. I’ll remember that.”
“Thanks.” When her back was turned he gave his attention once more to the iron bars of his cage. He twisted the ones behind him, bending them slightly. He’d been working on it for an hour or more. Normally breaking out of one of these cages wouldn’t be a problem, but she’d done something to the cage, something… magical? Whatever she’d done, the bars were extremely difficult to break. “So, what do you have planned?”
“Nothing much. I’m just going to change your diet.”
He choked. “What?”
She grinned over her shoulder at him, her whole body glowing eerily. It wasn’t a reflection of the firelight on her skin, either. This was serious magic. “I’m going to make you unable to drink from anyone but me.”
This was getting too creepy. “That would kill you. You know that, right?” Besides, why the hell would he want to be tied down to one woman for eternity? The idea was revolting. It was unnatural. It was against the vampire code of ethics or something. He couldn’t live off of her. She wasn’t his singele sotiei, his blood wife. Only his blood wife could sustain him the way Terri was talking about.
She dipped a golden goblet into the green goo in the cauldron. “When I’m done, the only one you’ll ever need will be me.” She turned towards him, the goblet balanced between her hands. “It’s time, my love.”
“Oh fuck me.” Parker turned his back to her and began kicking at the bars of his cage. Whatever the witch had planned, it couldn’t be good.
“Here. Drink this and we will be together forever.”
No way. Parker turned and knocked the goblet out of her hand. The liquid inside sloshed, some landing on him, some on her. The dark green looked almost pretty against her skin.
She looked at him and smiled. “I love you.”
Then the pain hit, and Parker couldn’t do anything but scream.