QSFer Liv Rancourt has a new MM paranormal romance out, The Immortal and Illicit Duology book 1: The Vampire’s Pirate.
Is death too great a risk when the reward is freedom?
Dáire Malone has been undead for over 200 years when he is summoned to the home of a would-be queen, a vampiress who possesses an unnatural potency. She declares that Malone will not leave without giving her a pledge of loyalty.
He’s been held in thrall before and would rather face his final death than let another have power over him.
Thomas Clifton is a pirate, or rather, a privateer. He too is summoned to the vampiress’s home and commanded to pledge his fealty to her. Clifton’s allegiance lies only with the man he sees in the mirror, and his first impulse is to run.
But Dáire Malone’s aura of mystery and his melancholy beauty appeal to Clifton, and Malone won’t leave until they destroy the source of the vampiress’s magic. Caught between opposing impulses, Clifton must choose.
Leave, and lose Malone, or stay and risk his freedom… and his life.
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Excerpt
I had low hopes for the pretend library. Clarice Arsenault was cocky, but not stupid enough to hide the deeds someplace so obvious. My stolen deed was for a warehouse on the Mississippi, a place I made substantial use of. If the deed somehow ended up in someone else’s hands, I’d have to pay them for the privilege of using my own building.
Quite an understatement to say I’d be annoyed by that.
I made a quick circuit of the library, then ventured into the parlor. The candelabra had been allowed to burn out, the room holding on to its predawn chill. A small sofa and a pair of high-backed chairs were grouped around the fireplace, and a small occasional table with two chairs occupied the other end of the room. Nothing that suggested a place to hide stolen papers.
A door at the rear of the room, directly across from the main entrance, opened into the dining room. The furnishings were heavy and dark, and the table looked unused. On the far end, a second door led to a covered porch that ran half the length of the house. Stone steps led to a courtyard between the house and a handful of small buildings.
I found a narrow door by the steps, the door apparently locked. I carried a single pick in my vest pocket but before I could try to open the lock, I heard footsteps. Hiding would look suspicious, so I leaned against the wall and waited.
Dáire Malone came through the door from the dining room, moving with smooth grace. I crossed my arms and he glanced at once in my direction.
“You,” he said, though I might have imagined it. In a flash, he was on me, pressing me against the wall, his forearm across my throat. “What are you doing?” he asked, his tone calm, his expression untroubled.
Rather than answer him, I grabbed hold of his hips, grinding my cock against his. I might be asking for a quick death, but he was so beautiful, I was willing to take the chance.
“Stop,” he gasped, though he did not move away.
I gave him a slow smile. “Suppose it should be me asking you what you’re doing here.”
“I…I heard a noise.”
“Did you?” If he was going to lie, then so could I. “And I was looking for something to eat.”
I thrust my hips as I spoke, and almost hollered when he gave a tentative thrust in return. I drank in his dark eyes, made darker by long, thick lashes, and the seductive curve of his lower lip. The pressure against my neck eased, and for a moment, I thought he might kiss me.
Instead, he stepped away. “I should not detain you.” His gaze dropped to the floor, his expression as remote as a light on the distant horizon. Only the obvious bulge in his trim pantaloons gave him away.
“You can detain me any time you want, Mr. Malone.” I had to hope the huskiness in my voice didn’t sound desperate.
“I should…” He nodded once, then retreated to the door. “Good morning, Captain.”
He disappeared before I could respond. Thoughts of exploring the lower level took second place to wondering how a vampire who was old enough and strong enough to be conscious after sunrise had been caught under the thumb of the one who wanted to be queen.
Author Bio
Liv Rancourt writes romance of all kinds. Because love is love, even with fangs.
Liv is a huge fan of paranormal romance and urban fantasy and loves history just as much, so her stories often feature vampires or magic or they’re set in the past…or all of the above. When Liv isn’t writing she takes care of tiny premature babies in the NICU. Her husband is a soul of patience, her kids are her pride and joy, and her dogs – Trash Panda and The Boy Genius – are endlessly entertaining.
| Author Website | https://livrancourt.com/ |
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