Immortal Redeemed. Linda Thomas-Sundstrom
Читать онлайн.| Название | Immortal Redeemed |
|---|---|
| Автор произведения | Linda Thomas-Sundstrom |
| Жанр | Зарубежные любовные романы |
| Серия | |
| Издательство | Зарубежные любовные романы |
| Год выпуска | 0 |
| isbn | 9781474046954 |
“Why do you want me, specifically?” McKenna asked.
His lips were at eye level, full and closed tight.
“Will you save me from the entire world, Blood Knight? Slay dragons on my behalf, along with more white-faced freaks? I wonder if you will save me from myself?”
She placed a light kiss on his mouth, absorbing the current that kiss produced. He didn’t reach for her or devour her, though he could have. He didn’t do anything at all, just stared down at her.
“Good night,” McKenna said, turning from the man she almost wished would stop her, feeling his heated gaze on her backside as she limped toward the steps.
Turning her back to him was a mistake. If she had expected him to let that kiss go unchallenged, she was wrong. Seconds later, she was backed against the corner of the building with his body pressed to hers.
“You’re making this hard,” he said.
“Then do something about it.”
LINDA THOMAS-SUNDSTROM writes contemporary and paranormal romance novels for Mills & Boon Desire and Mills & Boon Nocturne. A teacher by day and a writer by night, Linda lives in the West, juggling teaching, writing, family and caring for a big stretch of land. She swears she has a resident Muse who sings so loudly, she often wears earplugs in order to get anything else done. But she has big plans to eventually get to all those ideas. Visit Linda at www.lindathomas-sundstrom.com or on Facebook.
Immortal Redeemed
Linda Thomas-Sundstrom
To my family, those here and those gone, who always believed I had a story to tell.
Contents
It wasn’t hard being an immortal. And it certainly wasn’t boring. But living out an extended life span could be lonely as hell, and that loneliness lasted forever.
Kellan Ladd pushed the black custom Harley to eighty miles per hour on the open road, inhaling the wind, appreciating what might be his last moments on earth.
The purr of the bike’s engine was the only sound in the dark fall night. His next stop was already a dim glow on the horizon. Out here he could breathe and see the stars. Disturbing thoughts were traded for the intricacies of pure sensation.
He liked the pungent scent of damp greenery and the faint odor of engine oil. Those things mixed well with the fragrance of his signature black leather pants and jacket.
In fact, the back of his neck tingled in honor of those things. But the pleasure didn’t last. The dampness of the wind welcoming him to Seattle slipped beneath his collar to go head-to-head with the fiery burn of the intricate sigils carved into his shoulder blades...and the result wasn’t pretty.
The sizzling sound of heat versus cold was imaginary. Discomfort wasn’t. The marks on his back were as painful tonight as when he’d first received them. It was as if the scrolling tattoos were in on the secret part of his secret