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jackie ivie's be not like
BE NOT LIKE
September 23, 2017

 

 


 


Jackie Ivie's Those Whose Hearts
Those Whose Hearts
The Vampire Assassin League #34
by Jackie Ivie
February 6, 2018

Available now at:
Amazon Kindle
Amazon UK

 

THE BLUEBLOOD

Heir to sixteenth-century Venetian nobility, Reynaldo Moroseni was born into luxury. Position. And power. His mortal days were spent on family business – the acquisition of wealth. Practicing his swordsmanship. Occasionally defending honor. But mostly, he spent each day in the pursuit of enjoyment. Vampirism didn’t change much.

It merely gave him unlimited time. And a much larger field.

A RENAISSANCE WOMAN

Simone Ryan is a woman of many talents. She’s versatile. Dexterous. Competent. Playing music is a joy, but employment as an art historian is her dream. Reality is night work for a chemical company. Living day-to-day. Making ends meet. Watching life pass her by. This was not what she’d envisioned for the future.

It wasn’t even close.

MUSIC FOR THE SOUL

A gig playing cello somehow turns into a fantasy for one. Simone finds herself in her own personal fairytale. Set in a beautiful palace. With a breathtakingly handsome prince. This prince is old-worldly charming. Exciting. Passionate. His words intrigue. His touch ignites. And every moment gets her deeper into a shiver-inducing maze of sensuality. Because this prince has a dark side...

And he wants her.

 

excerpt

"I think I'll just...get my cello now," she told him.

He toyed with what to answer and how to manage it, but it wasn't necessary. Without looking in his direction, she sat, pulled her cello case to her. Unsnapped an outer pocket. She was visibly shaking now. Then, she blushed. And Reynaldo's world got upended.

He was soaring, but his feet remained locked to the floor. His fingers gripped to plaster. His heart thumping mightily. The mating pull was so vast that containing it required every effort and a large measure of luck. His heart wasn't pumping blood. It sent need and hunger and craving through his veins.

Vampiric strength was on the verge of failure.

Was it possible...she felt this too?

Already?

She lifted a binder from the pocket. Shuffled through pages. Spoke her next words to them. "Do you, um...have a particular selection you'd like to hear?"

He grunted something unintelligible. Answering had become a lesson in futility.

"I appear to have brought...Bach's Cello Suite #1 in G. The prelude is one of my favorites."

She lifted a page. Reynaldo didn't answer. She glanced at him and then back to her music. Her shaking made the paper rustle.

"I also have Brahms' Cello Sonata #1, first movement...and...here is Tchaikovsky's Variations on a Rococo Theme. That one showcases...uh. Melodic long notes."

He didn't reply. This time, she didn't even glance at him.

"I also have...Beethoven's Cello Sonata #1...and-ah!"

She gave a cry as her bundle of pages slipped, scattering onto the floor. She jumped to her feet. Reynaldo was instantly before her. She lifted a stricken gaze to his, blinking rapidly. He couldn't move. He could barely think. He was already smitten with her eyes. His heart sent solid thumps of pain as he viewed the patina of tears atop them. And then she looked down at her pile of papers.

"I'm so sorry. I don't think I can audition...tonight."

She worried over an audition? Who the hell said anything about-?

Nigel.

Accidenti!

Reynaldo was going to stick a sword through the kid the next time they met. No. Wait. Damning things didn't help. Nor did anger. And this wasn't just Nigel's fault. The blame for this was at Reynaldo's door, too.

His train of thought took seconds. There was an after-effect, as well. Self-disgust gave back a measure of wits and some semblance of control. Not much, but he wasn't quibbling. Reynaldo cleared his throat to speak, but she forestalled him.

"I'm really sorry. I don't...know what's wrong with me. I'm not normally so nervous. It's just...everything is so strange! I mean, we just met, and-oh, no! No. No. I did not just say that!"

She sounded horrified. And she put her hands to her face. But she didn't look up or she'd have seen what he couldn't hide. Fangs were impossible to conceal, not with a cheek-splitting grin. Reynaldo brushed plaster debris on his trousers before putting his hand toward her, palm up. A head shift indicated she glanced at it, but then she looked back to the pile of papers.

"I should um...go now...while I can still talk around the foot in my mouth," she said.

Reynaldo's smile widened. "Allow me to escort you."

"I can probably find the front door by myself. But maybe Jacques could see my things...brought down?"

He regarded the top of her head for some moments before trying again. "Simone. Please. Take my hand."

"I...think I should just go," she informed the floor.

"Well, I think you just need a change of venue."

"You're joking. You can't possibly have a better room than this."

"I do," he replied.

"Like what?" she asked.

"Your chamber."

Her gasp was loud. Shocked. He matched it. But beyond a series of tremors he couldn't halt, Reynaldo didn't move. Shift. Or even breathe. He stood, silently waiting, willing her to take his hand. It took every ounce of strength at his disposal. And just when he thought he'd failed, she reached out...

And touched her fingers to his.

 

available at

Available now at:
Amazon Kindle
Amazon UK

 

 


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