I have two shiny copies of the paperback version of Thirst to give away. I'll even sign it if you like. All you have to do is leave me a comment telling me both your favourite vampire and favourite vampire movie. And don't forget to leave me your email address!
Winners will be pulled out of the hat by my as ever glamorous assistant on Sunday :)
2nd Edition (re-written and re-edited)
A dark killer haunts the streets of Los Angeles, stalking unwilling victims and draining their blood. When the evidence runs dry, Detective Max Bowman quenches his thirst at his local bar hoping for inspiration. Instead, he’s robbed and left for dead in the alley. Waking up in the warm bed of horror novelist Carter Gray was the last thing he expected, but it may be the lead he needs. For Carter hides a dangerous secret behind his life as a bestselling author and it might be the answer, no matter how unbelievable, Max has been looking for.
But as they search for the killer, Max begins to wonder if he’s being led in circles by a mastermind of plot twists and deception.
PAIN, LOTS of pain. Max tried to force his eyes open, but only one would comply; the other already swollen shut from the impact of a closed fist. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been lying in the alley behind the bar. He dimly remembered a tall blond man with piercing blue eyes who’d introduced himself as Tony, or it might have been Tommy, buying him a beer, followed by way too many shots—he’d stopped counting after the fourth. He remembered laughing and joking with him, flirting and being flirted with in return. Nothing seemed out of place. Nothing, that was, until the man suggested they go somewhere quieter. Instead of heading into the brightly lit street, Max had found himself being jostled from both sides into the alley behind the bar. The blond had held him on his left, and from nowhere, a dark-haired man had grabbed his right arm and twisted it behind him to hold him steady.Too late, Max had realized everything was out of place, as the blond man stood in front of him and his fist connected with Max’s face, his knee with Max’s groin. The two of them had punched and kicked him, and all he could do was curl in on himself on the ground and hope he could minimize the damage. He hadn’t wanted to think too much about the sharp snap he’d heard when a hard boot connected with his ribs, or the meaty sounds of flesh upon flesh. Max had been assaulted by a wave of dizziness and he’d felt darkness reach out to engulf him in its warm embrace, but he’d mentally shaken his head and stubbornly refused to let it claim him. He’d felt hands grabbing at his keys and his wallet, and then more pain as a boot connected with the muscle in the left cheek of his ass. His head had been pulled back by a vicious hand twisting in his chestnut-colored hair; he’d locked his glassy brown gaze onto piercing blue as the word “fag” was spat at him and his head was slammed back down on the dirt. Max listened to their retreating footsteps and tried to lift his head, but the pain in his side caused him to cry out at the movement. He coughed and cringed as he saw dark splatters of blood hit the ground. Wiping the back of a shaky hand across his lips, he stared at the stain of red on his skin. He stumbled to his knees, trying to use the wall beside him to pull himself up. His legs buckled, and he crashed back to the ground. A deep groan was wrenched from him as he fell. Suddenly, he felt two strong arms, one around his shoulders and one under his knees, lifting him as if he weighed no more than a small child. His head lolled to the side, coming to rest on a firm shoulder, and he had a glimpse of jade green eyes looking down into his as the dark claimed him.
CARTER PULLED open the door of his black 1968 Ford Mustang, eased his ward carefully into shotgun, and slowly reclined the seat to make the position more comfortable. Taking off his heavy woolen coat, he rolled it and slipped it behind the semiconscious man to prop up his head. He gazed down at the battered face he had been watching all night from his dark corner of the bar, aware how beautiful it was underneath the swelling and bruising. The man’s name was Max; that much he knew because he had heard him introduce himself to his assailant. He frowned, furious with himself that he had realized too late the plans the blond and his accomplice had for the young man. If he hadn’t been distracted, if he hadn’t been so thirsty….
Carter slid behind the wheel, and the muted glow of the dome light extinguished when he closed the door. A small smile lifted his lips as he headed his car toward home. The two men who had robbed and beaten Max and left him for dead had already paid for what they’d done. Glancing into his rearview mirror, he parted his lips and ran his tongue down his elongated incisors. They wouldn’t be hurting anyone ever again, and he wasn’t thirsty anymore.