Vampires have been the thing of nightmares but in recent years, they are the new paranormal hotties. With authors such as Katie MacAlister and Jeannie Frost, readers are falling for sexy and dominating vampires who secretly protect the world and fall in love for longer than a life time. Clara Winter's new release is along the same lines. A sexy female vampire who believes in true love.
Explore the past as she shares her trials in France as she became a vampire and set out to create a new life for herself.
True love never dies.
At least, it doesn’t for Millicent, a once French noblewoman turned immortal vampire. The love of her life is murdered before she became immortal. Forever is a long time to live in despair. Two hundred forty years later, she locks eyes with an English actor, who happens to look exactly like her dead lover.
Sadness turns to happiness as Millicent and Jack find passion in each other’s arms. Their fling quickly turns serious as Millicent finds happiness once again—and possibly her one true love.
However, their relationship becomes complicated by her own uncertainty, Jack’s mortality, and the other man in Millicent’s life, Alexandre, her maker and companion. When Alexandre puts his foot down, Millicent must decide if she’s going to continue to be led by others or take the reins and drive the outcome of her life.
Deepest Midnight is set in modern day Savannah, Ga with occasional glimpses back to 18th century France. This is the first book in The Immortal Kindred Series.
The sun has yet to set. There is a steady pounding on the front door, followed by the piercingly loud ring of the doorbell. I know it isn’t night, because I’m having a hard time opening my eyes, even a crack.
“Police, open up!” This is not good. Wake up, Millicent, and think for God’s sake.
If I open the door, the sunlight will sear my skin, like chicken on a barbeque. Not something these people have ever seen before, I’m sure. Only one thing comes to mind, and I’m not positive it will work. I’ll just have to cross that bridge when I come to it.
Dragging ass out of bed, I dig out a very unsexy, white fleece robe. My limbs feel like lead weights, as I do my level best to push my arms through the sleeves. My body is not cooperating. Every cell inside me screams to get back into the safety of my bed. More pounding.
I reach my bedroom door. “I’m coming!”
Not very demure, but it’s better than having the door broken in. Since my legs aren’t working too well, I slide with locked knees down several steps, almost toppling over in the process.
At the bottom, I robot-walk across the front hall. I stop just long enough to take a deep breath. Gripping the door handle with my left hand, I soundlessly slide back the dead bolt, praying the people outside won’t take it upon themselves to try the door, until I am safely removed. I run, awkwardly, into the living room, launching myself onto the sofa, pulling the robe around me.
“Come in!” I yell, hoping they can hear me from outside.
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Musings from Michigan