THE KINGS OF THE BLOOD SERIES

Each King has a mate, his fýlakas tis kardiás mou , the keeper of his heart. The one woman in all the world who can save his doomed soul and breathe life into his dead heart. She will be the perfect complement to his darkness, a light that shines so brightly there are no shadows for him to hide behind. She will know his every weakness, share his every secret, and accept hims for all that he is. This gift of the gods will be his only nourishment from the moment of her recognition of him. He will know when this woman is born. He will feel it in the depths of his soul, but he must wait for her. When the time is right, she will come to him. The mating must be completed before nightfall of his three-thousandth-year or he will cease to exist. He will return to the ether from whence he came, ashes to ashes and dust to dust. He will enter the Elysian Fields, alone and live a hero’s afterlife.

VIKTOR: Heart of Her King

Three millennium brought the Supreme Commander to this place at this time to meet the one woman who can save not only his soul but his very existence. 

Too many days pondering her life. Too many nights dreaming of the nameless, faceless man who makes her feel things she never thought possible. 

One has a chance for revenge, the other a chance for redemption. Together they must make a choice. Together they hold the key. 

Together only they can save the heart of her king. 

ROMAN: Fury of Her King

 

She thought it was a chance meeting… 
He knew it was Destiny. 

Her dreams were coming true… 
His future was within his grasp. 

Life turns on a dime. 
Things can change in the blink of an eye. 


Now, her future is in his hands and the one she thought was her friend is holding the gun. 
Can he save her in time? Will he defy the law of Zeus? 

More than blood is on the line…this fight is for his very existence. 

ACHILLES: Soul of Her King

 

A scream in the night. A panicked call for help.

There’s no time to think. The rules be damned.

A fate worse than death. Buried alive…lost…alone…

A centuries old secret her only hope. May the gods be on her side.

This one’s about more than brotherhood.

Save the girl…save the Kings.

Coming 2019

BAIN: Resurrection of Her King

Excerpt:

 

The King pulled up to the same private hospital he had been visiting every month for nearly fifty years. It sat near the sea in the coastal city of Nafplio on the Peloponnese peninsula, tucked away amid a vast array of chalets and villas available for use by the millions of tourists that visited his homeland every year.

 

Getting out of his car and taking a deep calming breath, Bain wondered how much longer his game of subterfuge with his brothers could go on. As it was, three of them had already found their fýlakas tis kardiás mou and the couples were spending more and more time in Greece. He feared it wouldn’t be long until they found out what he had been doing and who he had been hiding.

 

His secrets were about to cause all hell to break loose but at the moment, the former philosopher and scholar couldn’t care. He had more important issues to attend to. Pushing his worries to the side, determined to enjoy what little time he had with her, the King crossed the threshold, took his sunglasses off, and greeted the attendant he paid very handsomely for his service.

 

Geia pós eísai, Miguel?”

 

“Fine and you, Mr. Christakis?”

 

“I’m doing well, thank you.” Bain smiled at the attendant’s attempt at broken English, appreciating that he was working so hard to learn a new language, then turning, the King made his way down the corridor.

 

With his hand on the doorknob he thought about the years since he had purchased the house, had it retrofitted to be a care facility and had begun the arduous process of finding staff loyal only to him. It had taken some doing but in the end, he had found the right people, had them thoroughly vetted, and sign an ironclad confidentiality agreement. The workers, nurses, and doctors here were just like the feeders of the Kings of the Blood, tied to him forever, from generation to generation, each keeping the other’s secrets.

Turning the knob, he walked into the room. He was happy to see they were keeping the room full of lilies and gardenias. He noticed the walls had been painted the bright yellow he requested to keep the atmosphere light and happy.

 

Walking to her bedside, pulling the chair against the wall along with him, he could only smile. She looked so peaceful lying there as if she were simply sleeping, with her blonde hair spread across her pillow and her long eye lashes curling against her cheeks.

 

“Hello, beautiful. How are you today?” As always, he waited for a reply and as always, none came.

 

Removing his suit jacket, Bain threw it over the back of the chair before sitting down and lifting her hand into his. Wishing for the hundredth, maybe thousandth time that she would open her eyes and smile or at least hold his hand as he held hers, the King sighed and shook his head.

He knew what he had to. The same thing he had done all the other times he was with her. It was the only thing keeping her from withering and dying, the only thing giving him hope. “But is it really hope, or merely pipe dreams?” he asked himself aloud.

 

Thinking again about his brothers, the Kings of the Blood, and his true brother, also part of the fraternity, Nikos, Bain felt the love he had for his family. He was happy for each and every one of them. Loved that some had bonded with their mates; knew the others were soon to come. It was just that seeing Viktor, Roman, and Achilles with the keepers of their hearts, happy and starting a whole new journey in their lives, brought the sad reality of his own situation crashing down around him.

 

Once again shoving his worries away, he reached behind him and into his jacket pocket, pulling out a syringe. Tapping the inside of his arm, he waited until the vein was visible, stuck the needle in, and withdrew a hundred cc’s of his life’s essence. Turning her arm over, he then injected it into her vein, rubbing away the sting even though he had no idea if she felt it or not.

Disposing of the needle, he scooted his chair closer to her bedside, laid his head on the bed, and whispered, “Come back to me, vasílissa mou, or surrender so that I might follow you into the Elysian Fields.”

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