Paranormal Women’s Fiction, Urban Fantasy
Date Published: January 10, 2025
Thaddeus Maguire is a vampire. He can’t remember the last time he
felt young, vibrant and alive. He’s made choices he regrets, but when
one of those mistakes comes back to haunt him, he’s forced to face his
past. The only place a hungry, beaten vampire can heal and recharge is the
best sanctuary for anyone paranormal. Eerie.
When he forces himself through a portal to his hometown, he lands at the
feet of the most beautiful flame-red haired Faerie he’s ever seen. The
moment he looks up at Tasia, he’s in love. But who could love a broken
vampire?
Tasia isn’t afraid of the damaged vampire, and she’s determined
to make him see he’s more than his mistakes.
Can they outrun his past and find a future before his biggest mistake
destroys them? Love is possible when you’ve been taken by the
Faerie.
EXCERPT
“You’re dangerous.”
“I know.” Clayton’s eyes flashed. “I also know
you’re sending them to Eerie. I can’t touch them there, but I
can touch you here. Send another and I’ll fuck you up.”
“You will?” He had no doubt. Clayton didn’t care who he
hurt as long as he got what he wanted. “Why is that?”
“Because I made them for food. I made them so I can use them. I made
them because I want a fucking army.” Clayton stepped into
Thaddeus’s personal space. “I made them so they’ll fight
vermin like you.”
“Like me? Come now. That’s so harsh.” He shouldn’t
bait Clayton, but he didn’t care. He’d allowed Clayton and his
band of marauders to screw with his life for years. No more. “What are
you going to do about it? Are you going to kick my ass again? You’ve
done it so much that it’s lost the threat.”
“Oh?” Clayton punched hard into Thaddeus’s stomach. The
impact threw Thaddeus backward and would’ve knocked the wind out of
him -- if he’d have had breath in his body. Not for years.
Thaddeus winced and gritted his teeth, but grinned. “Is that all you
have?”
“No.” Clayton withdrew a butterfly knife from his pocket and
slashed it through the air. He hacked into Thaddeus’s chest, leaving
trails of gray blood in his wake. He sliced down Thaddeus’s arm, then
across his belly. He shoved the knife into Thaddeus’s abdomen.
“Had enough?”
“I’m good. Wear yourself out.” He didn’t want
another slashing, but he wasn’t about to show that. The less Clayton
knew he was in pain, the better.
“You can’t protect all of them. Can’t save them or even
be the good guy. You’ll never redeem yourself,” Clayton said. He
twisted the knife. “You went down that road years ago and you
can’t undo it, so don’t try. Accept you’re a fucking loser
and will never be anything but.” He yanked the knife out and shook the
blood onto the asphalt as if the blood were water on his sleeve. He walked
away, then glanced over his shoulder and pointed to his eyes.
Of course, he was being watched. That’s how these beings worked. No
one ever got away free.
Thaddeus held his belly and managed to form a portal. Fucker. Clayton had
done a number on him this time. It’d take a few days to recover. He
would -- vampires didn’t die without involving silver or crucifixes,
and Clayton was smart enough not to use either.
He couldn’t protect the human world forever. The regular
world’s vastness was more than one being could handle. He’d need
help.
Then again, he couldn’t be the only protector.
Jesus H. Christ. Where were the others? Asleep at the wheel?
Probably.
He shook his head and stepped through the portal into Eerie and quickly
closed the opening behind him. The faster he sealed the opening, the better
the chances he could get away from Clayton, even if only for now.
He sank to the ground and bowed his head. He needed to recharge. Fuck, he
should find a nice corner and hide. His skin would eventually seal over and
the damage within him would go away, but a good meal would help. Being in
Eerie didn’t mean he’d find one quickly.
He’d fought off Clayton for years, but he couldn’t keep going.
Not like this. Besides, why in the name of hell did Clayton need to destroy
so much?
He lifted his head and drank in his surroundings. He’d forgotten how
bright the town could be. After a moment, he realized he’d stepped
into the Faerie block. God love those Faeries; they lived for their
audacious colors.
Then there he was -- he hated anything that wasn’t black. Blend in
and don’t be seen.
He looked around and his stomach churned. Not from the lack of blood, but
the sickeningly sweet location. There had to be at least three cupcake shops
on the block. Who needed so much sugar?
Not him.
“Excuse me. Do you need help?” A red haired Faerie, dressed in
a pale green dress, touched his shoulder. When he met her gaze, electricity
shot through him. His skin tingled from her touch. When she smiled, she
warmed him throughout. The odd look in her eyes confused him, though. Was
that interest or fear?
“You do need help. Are you… you’re cut. Oh, Hera, please
let me help you.” She grasped him under his arms and hoisted him to
his feet. “What happened to you? No, I get it. I see, and I’m
not letting you languish out here.”
“What are you talking about?” He didn’t understand how
she’d figured out he had a problem, other than the slashes and blood.
The way she talked, it was like she knew what was going on. Had she seen
other vampires coming to Eerie after being assaulted? How many more of them
were there? “How do you seem to know what I’m thinking?
What’s in my gut?”
“We should talk.” She nodded to a bench, then paused. “We
could stop here by the street, but you’re safer if you come with me to
the Hall. We’ll go to my work.”
“You’re a cop.” He dug in his heels as best he could.
“I’m not going to the cops.” He’d done that plenty
of other times and usually landed in jail for twenty-four hours for what was
claimed to be his own protection. Har. More like the protection of the
community.
If he’d gone mad or gone rogue, then everyone was in danger, but he
hadn’t on either account. He was just fine. Hurt, but fine. Beyond
that, the cops tended to have mages and necromancers on their staff who
could read his mind. They’d see way more than he wanted to
share.
About the Author
Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author
of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing
since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary
and paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her
works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her
characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s
been nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best
Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the
bestseller lists on various e-tailer sites.
When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as
well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but
football is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends
of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.
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@changelingpress
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