Paris After Dark
Digital • Sept. 21, 2009
Perseus Books • Sept. 21, 2009
Barnes and Noble
“Paris After Dark”
Burned out NY homicide detective, Rachel Chang is on a forced leave in Paris grieving over the loss of her partner, when she encounters a violent attack occurring outside the walls of Cimetiere du Montparnasse. What at first seems like a simple domestic turns into something far greater, when she attempts to stop the attacker and ends up on the wrong side of a set of very sharp fangs.
A chase through the Parisian catacombs brings Rachel cheek to chest with sexy Gabriel Dumont, but his ‘pretty’ face hides more secrets than she can fathom. Secrets that can cost her more than the St. Michael medal her attacker took.
Time is running out. Rachel needs answers. All trails lead back to the catacombs. All she has to do is follow the blood…
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Another bestselling collection of original Vampire Romance stories from the finest writers of the genre.
A wonderful variety of compellingly original vampire stories, many of them wholly unexpected, from award-winning, New York Times bestselling authors.
There are typical vampires who would be right at home in a horror story or a gothic romance; historical vampires; contemporary, gritty, urban vampires; fang-in-cheek comedy; boy-meets-girl sweetheart stories (if a little bloodier!); and erotic tales of inhuman passions and midnight pleasures.
Look out, too, for stand-alone stories relating to existing series and characters of contributing authors, or stories which develop more fully characters who have only walk-on parts in those authors’ longer fiction.
Read an UNEDITED Excerpt
One hand moved to where her weapon should be, while the other automatically reached for the St. Michael medal around her neck. For a moment Rachel saw her partner lying in a puddle of blood. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as the panic attack eased. This wasn’t New York. The vision wasn’t real. And this wasn’t her problem. Let someone else clean up the mess for a change.
A second scream followed the first, then ended abruptly. Rachel remained immobile, while her conscience called her every foul name in the book. Unfortunately, the voice in her head wasn’t loud enough to drown out the struggle she could hear taking place on the dimly lit road off Boulevard Raspail.
“You have no authority here. You don’t even speak French. Let the Parisian police handle it,” she muttered under her breath as she came upon a man grappling with a woman. The woman’s arms were flailing as she beat at the man’s broad shoulders with her clenched fists.
The dark-haired man wasn’t striking her back, but he was holding her tight to deflect her blows. It looked like a typical domestic dispute. Only a fool got in the middle of those. Rachel had been foolish once and it had cost her dearly. Never again. She shoved her hands in her pockets and kept walking.
Rachel passed the street and saw a sign for the Cimetiere du Montparnasse affixed to a high gray brick wall. She glanced at the sky. “Trying to tell me something, partner?” Of course Paul didn’t answer. No one did. Like the residents of the fancy French cemetery, he was dead. All that was left of him was her memories and the St. Michael medal around her neck.
The patron saint must have been on a coffee break the day her partner caught a bullet in the chest——a bullet that was meant for her. She felt like that bullet had been chasing her ever since.
Rachel glanced at the cemetery once more, then asked herself what Paul would do. The answer was obvious. She cursed, then tromped back to the mouth of the street. This was a bad idea. Her gun and NYPD badge currently resided an ocean away inside her Captain’s desk. She’d have to count on the man fleeing when she confronted him. Rachel ran the odds of that happening in her head and let out a string of expletives.
The woman had stopped struggling and now hung loosely in the man’s arms. Had he struck her after Rachel left? She hated bullies. Hated people who thought their size gave them free reign to do as they pleased. The man stood in the shadows with his back to her, but Rachel could tell he outweighed her and the woman by a good fifty pounds. This was such a bad idea.
“Hey buddy,” she shouted.
The dark-haired man didn’t acknowledge her, but Rachel saw his broad shoulders tense.
“Yeah, I’m talking to you. Parlez-vous…Anglais? Let the woman go,” she said in frustration, wishing she’d paid attention to the French CD’s she’d checked out of the library.
He slowly turned. Rachel caught a glimpse of shimmering green eyes. The color so unnatural it couldn’t possibly be found outside the animal kingdom. Had to be contact lenses. But it wasn’t his eyes that held her in place. It was his teeth——his long, very bloody teeth.