Lusty Thirst

Lusty Thirst CVR


The lurch out of his vampiric coma was a battle with death but Colin did not feel like a victor when his eyes batted open and peered into the pitch darkness. He groaned. A deep, depressing snarl in his throat and blinked. A shadow of dim light rose over the darkness and his vision gained recognition.

He was in her living room. Recollection came with full force.

She was a vampire. She had bitten him. She had drank his blood. Had drained him.

And left him for dead.

Colin snarled out another groan. It trembled with fury as he rolled off his back and staggered to his feet. He wavered, struggled to remain on his feet and not keel over again.

He was hungry. Starved. Thirsty.

The yen for liquid, and feeding, burned and dried his throat. He battled with it. Wrestled not to be overcome as he raised his hand, trembling and unsteady, to his collarbone. The holes were there. Thin holes were her fangs had sunk—where she had drained him from. He opened his mouth to growl out another groan and then felt it—

The rip into his flesh. The strain and wrench of his skin. The pull as if he was being split—into multiple parts.

Colin howled and staggered forward. Lurching into a sofa and clutching on to it.

Heat burned his flesh. And then cold—biting, vicious cold sponged over it and freezing as it slithered and congealed. But not just his skin—his blood thickened, his bones reinforced, his senses surged and vibrated with gripping power. His entire being shifted—into something else. Something new.

Pain, acute and stinging, tore through him as he felt his disintegration and his regeneration happen all at once. Colin howled and groaned, repeatedly and with varied intensity. He struggled with the disintegration, repudiated to the regeneration and surrendered, when he could no longer fight, to the newness that was him.


**LUSTY THIRST. Coming August 2 on Okadabooks. Don’t Miss It!!!**

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House on the Hill

MOYO TRAMPED DOWN the dusty sidewalk of the two-lane highway. The evening sky was cool but blaring honks from sweeping past cars and motorcycles, added to the loud noises from people milling the surrounding streets and in nearby houses, made the atmosphere feel hot—and exhausting.

She was tired.

Weary would be a better word, she thought absently, raising a hand to rub the back of her neck. Her feet ached inside the black flat ballet-like pumps. She wished she could slip them out and just massage them. Better than that, she wished she could flag down a bike, climb on top and have herself driven home like royalty.