Authors: Tracy Cooper-Posey
Tags: #MMF Menage Vampire Gargoyle Urban Fantasy Romance
Praise for The Stonebrood Saga
More paranormal romance by Tracy Cooper-Posey
Other books by Tracy Cooper-Posey
Alone and lonely…can they find each other?
Sabrina Castillo survived the foster system to emerge with a fantastic career. One day, she will meet the man who will help her build a family of her own.
Nyanther, a two-thousand-year-old vampire, resents the loss of his tribe and intends to spend his last breath on destroying the gargoyles. He refuses to let anyone into his life, especially Sabrina, who isn’t of his world.
Jake Summerfield, reluctant heir to the family corporation, is everything Sabrina could wish for—until he meets Nyanther and loses his heart.
The last gargoyles of the Stonebrood Clan know these three are the key to their survival and make their move….
Grab your copy of the final installment in the paranormal romance thriller series that reviewers have called edgy, vividly captivating, delightfully wicked and erotic.
Warning
: This story features two super hot alpha vampire heroes, multiple sex scenes, including anal sex, MM sexual play and MMF sex. Do not read this book if frank sexual language and sex scenes offend you.
No vampires or demon hunters came to harm in the making of this book. Gargoyles have been added to the official hunt list, however…
This is Book 3.0 in The Stonebrood Saga:
Book 1.0:
Carson’s Night
Book 2.0:
Beauty’s Beasts
Book 2.1:
Harvest of Holidays*
Book 2.2:
Unbearable*
Book 3.0:
Sabrina’s Clan
*A
Stony Stories tale: Short stories featuring the characters and situations from the Stonebrood Saga
A vampire menage gargoyle urban fantasy romance story.
A new world full of action, mysterious sexy men and stubborn heroines that will sure have readers desiring more and more of.
Book Lovers Inc
.
Delightfully wicked and erotic.
I
loved every minute
of it. Don’t miss out on this was a wonderful read.
Night Owl Reviews
Vividly captivating
paranormal thriller that is infused with
edgy suspense
, dark passion and
an extreme emotional depth
that immediately grabs the reader and never lets go!
The Romance Studio
A paranormal lover’s
wicked delight
.
Literary Nymphs
There was another weirdo boho gypsy hunter person in Riley’s apartment and this one wasn’t wearing a shirt. Sabrina spotted him from the top of the iron staircase as she climbed up to Riley’s place. She paused a few steps from the top, debating whether she wanted to waste her energy dealing with yet another flake.
The guy was standing by the big, rough-hewn plank table that Riley, Damian and Nick used as a dining table. Well, Riley used the table to eat, because she was human. Nicolas Sherwood and Damian were vampires, which meant they didn’t eat. Damian cooked for Riley and Nick always kept her company as she ate. He would pour red wine for her, sniff the glass and sigh.
When they weren’t pretending they were human, they were out hunting demons and gargoyles and God knows what else. Sabrina didn’t know, that was for sure. She mentally blocked off most of their talk about the supernatural. It was bad enough the stuff was real and hunters seemed to think Riley’s apartment was a way-station for anyone who landed in the city, which a great many of them frequently did.
Now this guy. His back was to her as he did something at the table and the flesh of his back rippled as the muscles beneath flexed. There were blue tattoos on his arms and lower back. They weren’t dark like modern ink. They were a lighter blue.
“You can come in. I don’t bite except when I’m hungry.” His voice was a deep, reverberating baritone.
Sabrina sighed and climbed up to the floor proper. “You’re another vampire.”
He turned to look at her. The blue curlicues were on his chest, too. He had pale flesh and shaggy, black hair. His eyes were a very clear gray, light and almost colorless. His brows pushed together. “You’re in the wrong apartment if you don’t like vampires.”
“Riley is family to me,” Sabrina said stiffly. “I’ve learned to live with them. Is Damian here?”
“He’s putting his daughter down for a nap.” The vampire tilted his head. “You’re…ah…”
“Sabrina,” she supplied and pulled her suit jacket in around her, resettling it. “I’m Chloe’s birth mother.”
“Ah….” The man—the vampire—nodded. “Shouldn’t you be in your corner office at this time of day? Delegating to your minions?”
He knew who she was, then. “You don’t like corporate employees?”
“I’ve learned to live with them.”
“You vampires are all filthy rich. You don’t mind investing your money in Corporate America, but the employees who make your interest and dividends for you are contemptible?”
“I’ve found most of them to be devoid of imagination and their conversation dull.”
Sabrina stared at him. He was standing with his feet spread, his hands at his sides, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. There was rough growth around his chin and mouth, which must have cost him several feedings to grow, so it wasn’t there because he couldn’t be bothered to shave. It was a deliberate choice to look scruffy. “Do you normally insult everyone you meet?” she asked him curiously.
He smiled. “We haven’t met yet. Not formally.”
Vampires and their stiff customs and manners. They got insulted over the smallest things. All that history made them think differently. Although if they were out in public, it fell away and they behaved just like everyone else. It was an almost magical shift.
It was just here in private they returned to their prickly, sensitive
olde worlde
attitudes.
“You know who I am,” Sabrina pointed out. “Can you tell me who you are, or do you need a third party to do that?” She had learned very quickly that a formal introduction by a third person was necessary for some of them to even speak with her. This one was at least speaking, although he clearly considered it to be a concession to modern ways.
“Ny, I’m sorry,” Damian said from behind them. “Sometimes she just doesn’t want to sleep easily…Sabrina!”
She turned.
Damian was wearing jeans and a tee shirt. His feet were bare, his hair trimmed and his chin was clear of whiskers. Of all the vampires she had met, Damian seemed the most normal in human terms. Nick, on the other hand…well, she was still trying to figure Nick out. Riley loved both of them, so Nick had to have good qualities somewhere. They had to be buried deep.
Damian smiled at her. “You’re home from the office. Is there a problem?”
“I came home for a quick shower and change because I don’t expect to leave the office until very late tonight. I thought I might be able to say hello to Chloe before she sleeps. Too late, I guess.”
Damian held a balled-up garment out to the other man. “Here, it should fit.”
“Thanks.” He took it and shook it out. It was a button-through shirt, one Sabrina had seen Nick wearing.
Damian had called him Ny. “You’re Nyanther?” she asked him as he pulled the shirt over his arms. He had a powerful chest and the arms were rounded and thick. “The one who slept through two thousand years?”
“Someone has been talking about me behind my back,” he growled, his voice even deeper. “I hope they spoke with due respect and admiration.”
She almost laughed. Was the man’s arrogance a front or did he really feel that way?
“It’s hard to show respect for someone who jumped three feet in the air the first time he saw a car,” Damian said. He was smiling and there was a fondness in his eyes as he looked at the long-haired vampire.
Ny smiled back and Sabrina stared at him, astonished at the change that simple expression made to his features and appearance. The sunny expression made his eyes twinkle. “Ah, it’s good to be back,” he said roughly.
It was as if she wasn’t in the room. He had spoken only to Damian and she could almost
see
the memories they were both busy recalling. It surrounded them like a fog.
Why did only the hunters and people in Riley’s life make her feel this awkward sense of being out of place? At the office, she never felt as though she was an appendage. She never got left behind in conversations. Usually, she led them. Her colleagues at work never made her feel stupid the way most of Riley’s friends did.
“I should go,” she said.
Damian held out his hand. “Don’t leave yet,” he said. “I have something for you.” He hurried to the doorway that led to the bedroom suites at the back of the apartment, where he had come from, leaving Sabrina alone with Nyanther.
She cleared her throat and pushed her hair back over her shoulder.
“Riley is a blood relative?” he asked.
“Sister by long association,” Sabrina said shortly.
“You live in a building littered with vampires and demon hunters, your sister is one of the most revered and best demon hunters in the world and is mate to two more vampires, one of them a renown hunter in his own right,” Nyanther said as he buttoned the shirt.
The shirt made him look far more normal. Relief trickled through her. All that flesh with its disturbing pagan scrollwork combined with his testy attitude had been uncomfortable. “Your point?” she asked, feeling more in control of the situation. This was just another blip in her day. Her days were filled with them but they were usually corporate problems she was required to solve. No matter. She was good at rolling with the punches.
“I’m just wondering why someone who dislikes para-humans so much lives among them as you do.”
“I don’t dislike you.”
He smiled and stepped closer. Then he took another deliberate step forward, bringing him to within a few inches of her. Like other vampires, he shed no body heat. She still shivered at his closeness.
“Your reactions say otherwise.” His voice was low. “You’re fighting your instincts to step away from me because it would prove my point.”
She thought up and cast away three or four responses, all of them cutting. All of them were denials, too. So she returned the direct challenge, instead. “You don’t pull your punches, do you?”
“Of course not.” He seemed baffled.
“That must make you a popular man.”
Something skittered over his face, a dark and bitter emotion. Then it was gone. “I am generally misunderstood,” he said and his tone was one of agreement. “Most people can’t be bothered taking the time.” He turned away, the untucked shirt flapping at the bottom with his abrupt movement.
Sabrina stared at him. Her heart gave a little squeeze. “You expect the rest of the world to cater to your peculiarities? It’s not as if you’ve taken any time to know me. You condemned me as corporate garbage within thirty seconds of meeting me.”
He turned to face her again. He was a good, safe ten feet away. “On the contrary,” he said, his deep voice rumbling. “I knew all there was to know about you as soon as I saw you and realized who you are. You’ve been walking this earth for a mere thirty years. There isn’t much to know.”
She drew in a breath, controlling her anger. “And now you’re judging me for being human and shallow because of it.”