Here comes the fourth and final part of the Contest! Remember you can still enter Parts 1, 2 and 3 if you wish. The more entries you have, the greater your chance of winning :).
Below is a fourth excerpt from Blood Guilt, followed by details of how to enter the contest for a $20 Amazon gift card.
BLOOD GUILT: Blood Hunters, Book 1
By MARIE TREANOR
Natural enemies, deadly attraction...
The first of a vampire romance series, a sequel to the Awakened by Blood trilogy.
Mihaela, a fearless vampire hunter secretly haunted by loneliness and childhood tragedy, finds it difficult to adjust to the new world order where vampires are not always the bad guys. She's taking a much needed vacation in Scotland when she sees a little boy being chased through the streets of Edinburgh. Rescuing him brings bigger problems - two vampires from her past: Gavril, who killed her family; and the reclusive and troubled Maximilian, gifted Renaissance artist and one-time overlord of the most powerful undead community in the world. Maximilian once saved her life and now needs that favor returned.
The earth moves for Mihaela in more ways than one. From Scotland to Budapest and Malta, she races against time to prevent a disastrous, vampire-induced earthquake and save an innocent yet powerful child – all while fighting a dreadful attraction to Maximilian, her only ally, whom she can’t afford to trust. For Maximilian, the hunter becomes a symbol of renewed existence, as he struggles to accept his past and rediscovers his appetite for blood and sex - and maybe even happiness.
She let out a cry of rage. At least she hoped it was rage. She could no longer tell the difference between anger and lust. Her whole body seethed so that it took all her effort just to lie still under him and listen to her own ragged, panting breath. At least he hadn’t yet killed her. Although he’d implied he liked to play with his food.
She wanted to squeeze her eyes shut at that thought, but to do so would give the impression of weakness, and that she refused to do. So she ignored the wild desire coursing through her, forced her throbbing body to lie still while she met his stare with defiance.
“You already saved my existence with your blood,” he murmured. “You won’t end it now.” A frown twitched between his dark brows. “Because then you’d never know…”
“Know what?” she said with as much aggression as she could muster when his long, sensitive fingers were trailing down her throat, tracing the veins with something approaching wonder. His eyes devoured her, feeding the helpless fever.
“What it would be like with me.”
For the space of a heartbeat, she couldn’t move. Then, unable to bear the humiliation of the truth he’d perceived, she lashed out, jerking and writhing under him, beating his shoulder and head with her free hand while trying to yank her captured one free. In the end, she simply lost the freedom of both, which he easily held on either side of her head while he slowly, deliberately moved his body against hers, watching her face as he brushed against her peaked, aching nipples, and dragged the ridge of his erection between her thighs and up to her pubic bone.
“You bastard,” she whispered. “You total, utter bastard.”
“I’ll make it good for you,” he promised.
“I don’t want it to be good! I don’t want it at all!”
For the first time in ages, it seemed, his eyelids drooped, and when they lifted again, he was, astoundingly, already freeing her hands. She’d won.
And still she wouldn’t know. She’d never bloody know.
With a cry, she threw herself forward, flinging her arms around his neck to hold him. Then she latched her open mouth to his.
This time, she had, she really had, taken him by surprise. His lips were cool, still, almost rigid for all of a second. Then his arms came up, closing around her, and his mouth opened and bore down.
She fell back under the force of it, although his arms cushioned her fall, and his hand under her head both protected her and held her still for the ravishing of his mouth. She’d never felt or even imagined such hunger in a man’s kiss. His cool tongue delved, tangling with hers, drawing it into his mouth so that she felt his sharp, murderous fangs, and even that drove her desire on. She sucked on his teeth, licked them, as greedy as he; she bit at his lips and writhed under him, for now that she’d begun it, she wanted it all, and she wanted it now.
He’d already pushed her jacket off her shoulders. His hands circled her throat, caressing the length of it, and separated as they glided on over her shoulders to her breasts. Even through her sweater, he must have felt the hardened peaks of her nipples under his palms. Without breaking the stunning kiss, he pushed under her sweater, shoving it up to her chin and taking her bra with it so that he could hold her naked breasts.
She moaned into his mouth, wrapping her legs around his hips, rubbing her damp, aching loins against his rigid erection.
He released her mouth. “Hunter, you kiss like a demon,” he whispered and pulled sweater and bra up over her arms and head to throw them aside before falling once more upon her mouth.
This kiss was more sensual than desperate, and it finished more quickly, though only so he could transfer his attention to her breasts. For an instant, he simply devoured them with his eyes; then he lowered his mouth to the right one and took the nipple between his lips. He rolled it a little, then began to suck, and her womb clenched with need and pleasure. His hands were on her hips, stroking her jeans while she burrowed under his tank to feel his cool, smooth skin. His whole body undulated to the caress of her fingers, and it was the sexiest, most exciting thing she’d ever known.
One of his hands pushed between their straining bodies to get at the fastening of her jeans, and she thought she would come just at the feel of his knuckles so close to the center of her need.
He might have been six hundred years old, but modern fastenings gave him no trouble. Returning to her mouth, he kissed her while he shoved both jeans and panties over her hips, raised one of her knees and pulled the jeans and underwear completely off that leg. Then he left off kissing her, reared up, and tore at the buttons of his own jeans with clear intent. His dark hair fell forward over his forehead, shadowing his face. His eyes blazed silver.
This is going too fast. I’m mad, I’m insane, and I can’t stop. I won’t stop…
Step 1. Answer the following question in the Comments section of this post: Should Mihaela stop now? Why? (Feel free to be as serious, funny or imaginative as you like :)).
Step 2. Go to my Facebook page, "Like" it, if you haven't already done so, and post a comment there about this excerpt or about the book in general - you'll see a post there about this contest.
When you've done that, you have one entry to the contest!
All four parts of the contest will end at midnight EST Friday night/Saturday morning, so you must have all your entries in by then! You may enter as few or as many parts as you like, and you may enter any part right up until the contest closes.
The winner of the gift card will be chosen at random from all entries received to all parts of the contest, and will be announced here on the blog and on my Facebook page.
Good luck once more!