SOME GIRLS BITE is the first book in a brand new series about a Chicago graduate student’s introduction to a society of vampires.
Sure, the life of a graduate student wasn’t exactly glamorous, but it was Merit’s. She was doing fine until a rogue vampire attacked her. But he only got a sip before he was scared away by another bloodsucker—and this one decided the best way to save her life was to make her the walking undead.
Turns out her savior was the master vampire of Cadogan House. Now she’s traded sweating over her thesis for learning to fit in at a Hyde Park mansion full of vamps loyal to Ethan “Lord o’ the Manor” Sullivan. Of course, as a tall, green-eyed, four-hundred- year-old vampire, he has centuries’ worth of charm, but unfortunately he expects her gratitude— and servitude. But an inconvenient sunlight allergy and Ethan’s attitude are the least of her concerns. Someone’s still out to get her. Her initiation into Chicago’s nightlife may be the first skirmish in a war—and there will be blood.
Excerpt from SOME GIRLS BITE:
I nearly lost my breath from the sudden race of fire through my limbs, and had to grip the back of the love seat to stay upright. My stomach clenched, pain radiating in waves through my abdomen. I went light-headed, and as I touched my tongue to the tip of an eyetooth, I could feel the sharp bite of fang. I swallowed instinctively. I needed blood. Now.
“Ethan.” Luc said his name, and I heard rustling behind me. A hand gripped my arm, and I snapped my head to look. Ethan stood next to me, green eyes wide.
“First Hunger,” he announced.
But the words meant nothing. I looked down at his long fingers on my arm, and felt the warm rush of fire again. I curled my toes against it, reveled in the heat of it. This meant something. The feeling, the need, the thirst. I looked up at Ethan, dragging my gaze past the triangle of skin that showed through the top, unfastened button of his shirt, then the column of his neck, the strong line of his jaw, and the sensuous curves of his lips.
I wanted blood, and I wanted it from him.
“Ethan,” I whispered in a voice so husky I barely recognized it. Ethan’s lips parted, and I saw the flash of silver in his eyes. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by smoky green. I edged closer to his body, wet my lips, and then, without a single thought as to the consequences or what the act admitted, pressed them to his throat. He smelled so good—clean, soapy, everything male and masculine. He tasted so good—of power and man. The ends of his hair brushed my cheek as I kissed the long line of his neck.
“Ethan,” I whispered again, his name an invitation. A promise.
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The "walking undead" may be used to describe a typical graduate student. What else can the "walking undead" describe?