Blood Born (Brides of Carpathia Book 1)

To prove she's not a killer, she'll have to embrace the demon within.Kate Ramirez has spent years running from a family determined to keep her caged. When she finds herself in scenic Newport Beach, it isn't long before she's drawn to a group of local eccentrics. But when a fellowship gathering turns into the scene of a bloody slaughter, she finds herself the lone survivor.And prime suspect.Sebastian Stone never met a case he couldn't solve—but he's never met a brazen beauty like Kate before, either. Chasing her down means going beyond the smoke and mirrors, into a dark world of myth and monsters, where shocking answers lead to more questions. Closer and closer to the painful truth of who Kate really is.And what she is capable of.Fans of True Blood, Anita Blake, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer will love this new urban fantasy romance series... with bite!One Click Now, and sink your teeth into Brides of Carpathia!

From the Inside Flap

As though she'd read my mind, Carmilla pressed another button on her console and immediately, crisp, cool air began blowing from vents overhead. My whole body relaxed, and I let out a sigh of relief. I hadn't even realized how tense the night had made me, or how gross I felt inside. "Better?" she asked. I nodded. "Good. Have a sip of your drink, Kate, my dear." "You're confusing me," I admitted, sitting up a little straighter. "Why are you here? You're definitely not my public defender." Waving my hand at the custom leather, the built-in minibar, the divider, and her little control center, I added, "No public defender makes enough to afford a custom town car with a personal driver." I set my champagne flute in the drink holder at the end of the armrest beside its mate. "So how did you know about me?" "First, let me ask you a question," she countered. "Were you fully aware of the nature of the gathering you attended last night?" A pang of ugly chagrin hit my chest. "Uh... yeah, I guess." "You knew you were walking into an occult-based group of misguided fanatics purporting to believe in the existence of benevolent night children, and claiming to worship them as a form of religion?" "Yes," I grumbled, avoiding her gaze. "The Chantry of Selene. Yes, I knew it was a..." "A vampire cult," she finished for me. "And the purpose of last night's gathering was...?" "Does it matter?" I snapped. "You clearly think we're a bunch of lunatics." "There is no we anymore, Ms. Ramirez." She took another sip of her drink and leaned back in her seat. "Only one member of your Chantry survived that little party. You're the only one left." Detective Stone had said the same thing. Still, a sharp pain struck me in the stomach. I never had much in the way of friends, but a few of the people in the group hadn't been so bad. Sure, they were a little whacked in the head—especially our self-proclaimed primogen, David Pace—and I suppose I was, too, since I'd gone along with them for the last few months, embracing the whole night children thing. It seemed harmless, though. At least until everybody died. "You chose a rather unfortunate focus for your worship," she said. "Stupid, really. You would have been better off waiting for some intergalactic starship hidden behind a comet or an extraterrestrial ruler sending alien ghost babies to haunt your nether regions. Vampires, though... well, they love ignorant, willing victims." I stared at her. "Selene wasn't a bloodsucking monster. She was... she was supposed to be the Mother of Night. Shepherd of the Ever-Living and Enlightened." Carmilla gave an ugly snort. "Whoever heard of a vampire named Selene offering love and comfort to societal outcasts among mortals? If your enlightened leaders knew anything about real vampires, they'd know the only true queens of the night are the Striga, Elizabeth Bathory... and me."

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