The Necromancer’s Betrayal
The Necromancer Series
Book 2
Mimi Sebastian
Genre: Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance
Publisher: ImaJinn/Belle Books
ISBN: 978-1611945119
ASIN:
Number of pages: 226
Cover Artist: Debra Dixon
Book Description:
Her powers have been hobbled. Her enemies are growing stronger.
Old loves challenge her. And her worst betrayer may be herself.
Necromancer Ruby Montagne is battling for her life in the realm of demons. Unfairly branded for the death of a fellow necromancer, she’s got to prove her innocence without the full use of her magic. And the real culprit is still on the loose.
While someone is stalking her friends among the witches, Ruby searches for answers inside the dark intrigues of both the demon and necromancer worlds. Ruby must confront this new, sinister threat while reconciling her feelings for her former lover, a demon warrior. Only it’s difficult . . . because a sexy vampire is making it clear that he’d like to be a lot more than just friends.
The competition for Ruby’s trust heats up as the enemy pushes her toward a dark side that could threaten the entire realm. Yet what can Ruby do when she’s not even sure what she is? With the fabric separating the realms at stake, she must decide whom to trust. But will the ultimate betrayal be her own?
Excerpt
A hand I knew all too
well rested on my shoulder. “Come dance with me.”
My first impulse was
to huff, having watched him with Portia, but I smoothed my feathers and
smothered the small fire that had been smoldering all night. If Ewan wasn’t
going to bug me about Lysander, then I wasn’t going to disturb this quiet,
soothing, if not a bit dangerous peace. It probably helped that I was just
buzzed enough to agree, and maybe that had been his devious plan. I let him
lead me to the floor and envelop me in his arms for the slow dance. His
hesitation joined mine for a brief moment when our bodies connected, melting
every nerve ending.
I can’t do this to
myself.
I moved away from
him, but, sensing my skittishness, he tightened his grip, pulling me against
his chest. My breath caught and my body buzzed with longing and want. We danced
for a few moments to let the popping world around us settle. I understood why
it was so much easier to attack each other, find an irritation to mine, an axe
to throw, because all of that was easier than enduring this crippling longing,
feeling this gaping hole carved in my chest.
When my heart finally
stopped tripping over itself, I carefully settled my cheek on the soft silk of
his shirt. He pressed his lips to my ear, and his breath, tinged with whiskey
and his spicy demon scent, overwhelmed me and everything, everyone around us
melted in a blur. He pressed his thumb against my side, grazing until he found
the round swell of my breast. I felt his smile against my cheek when I suppressed
a moan. My rebellious arms somehow found their way around his neck.
“You’re
insufferable,” I said.
“Charming.” His
breath puffed against my earlobe, causing my nipples to harden.
“Smug.”
“Confident.” He
continued to rub and caught my nipple with one devious flick, eliciting a sharp
gasp.
“Arrogant.”
“Gracious.”
“Oh, hell.”
“That,
too.” He tightened his arms even more. “Do you know how much I want to throw
you over my shoulder, take you to my place, and make love to you? I don’t think
you’ll ever understand how much I want you.” His words, whispered into my ear,
soft and husky, about undid me.
“This conversation is
not a good idea.” But my body screamed, throbbed to hear the rest of what he
wanted to do.
“Why? Don’t want
Lysander to see me kiss you?” He glided his lips across my jawbone, leaving my
skin zinging everywhere he touched. “He kissed you.” His words, tinged with a
note of regret, sent a violent shiver through me.
“No. Stop. What if
Malthus sees?” I pushed away from him. He loosened his embrace, giving me an
extra inch of space, without removing his arms from my waist.
“Maybe I don’t give a
damn.”
“I had an interesting
talk with Portia.” My words had the intended effect, throwing a bucket of
freezing cold water over the conversation. I hated to extinguish the passion I
so craved, but our talk had veered into the same morass that led to nowhere but
despair.
“That was mean,” he
said, his eyes clouding with frustration.
“What? Talking with
her or bringing it up?”
“What did you talk
about?”
I smirked. “Sharing.”
He quirked an
eyebrow. “Maybe I don’t want to know.”
“Do you trust her?”
“It’s wise not to
trust anyone for the time being, but I’d be surprised if she was involved.”
“You might try
talking to her the next time you’re together.”
“I haven’t been with
anyone since you and I made love.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Guess I can’t
say the same for you.”
Ah, back to the pain.
It almost felt better. At least we’d enjoyed most of the evening before
igniting the white flag. I should have shot back at him with some retort,
admonished him for judging me, but I was too buzzed and confused with guilt and
readily accepted my role as dartboard for the night.
“So tell me, are you
and Lysander serious? Do you care for him?” he asked.
“Yes, of course.”
His arms stiffened.
“He’s a friend,” I
added.
His eyebrows shot up
in disbelief.
“I’m not dating him.
I’m not dating you either. Yes, we—” Frustration stifled my words. “What do you
want me to do? Wait nine years? I don’t think our relationship can stand nine
years of hurting each other.”
His arms tightened,
tightened, tightened and suffocated my thoughts. “He’s using the blood exchange
to manipulate you.”
“He’s not
manipulating me. You know better than that.”
“Lysander is a very old vampire, and I can assure you, he
didn’t spend those hundreds of years in a monastery. He knows exactly what he’s
doing.”
“Just like you know exactly what you’re doing with Portia?”
“That’s different.”
He let me pull out
of his embrace. “Sure it is,” I said, before turning away from him. The bar
came into view and, needing a destination, I sprinted off before he could
prevent my escape. I chanced a glance back and saw Portia had claimed him for
the next dance. He whirled her onto the dance floor, but not before locking
eyes with me for one last, hard stare.
About the Author:
Mimi Sebastian raised herself on books and the strange and unusual, and an unhealthy dose of comics and movies. When a career as a punk guitarist failed to materialize, she completed her degree in urban planning, spent two years in the Ivory Coast with the Peace Corps, and another three years in Brazil. By day, she debates the merits of transport oriented development, by night she writes about necromancers and pirates. She’s convinced she could live off coffee, ice cream, and comic books, but is sure only one of those is good for her health.
She's a member of Romance Writers of America and the Fantasy, Futuristic and Paranormal chapter of RWA. A transplant from the beaches of Florida, Mimi now wanders the desert in Phoenix, AZ, and attempts to balance writing with a day career, fantastic family, and household diva: her Amazon parrot.
http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/13508578-mimi-sebastian
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1 comment:
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