About The Queen
of Swords, a paranormal tale of undying love
Author: Nina Mason
Publisher: Vamptasy Publishing
Heat level: sizzling
Formats: Kindle and paperback
Where
to buy:
Paperback:
http://smarturl.it/queenofswordspb
Blurb:
When Graham Logan, a Scottish earl
turned vampire by a dark wizard’s curse, draws the Queen of Swords, he knows
he’s about to meet the love of his life. For the third time. But surrendering
his heart will mean risking her life…or making her what he is. Neither of which
his morals will permit him to do. Graham, who believes he lost his soul to the
curse, rages at God: Why give her back only to take her again?
Cat Fingal, the third incarnation
of Graham’s twin flame, won’t let him escape so easily. As soon as they meet,
she feels she knows him and begins having past-life flashbacks. A white witch,
she casts a spell to summon him, wanting answers and to fill the void she’s
felt all her life.
Graham has other problems, too.
Like the seductress who wants him for herself and the dark wizard who cursed
him and killed his beloved the first two times.
Will he find a way to save her this
time around? Or will she save him?
Excerpt and related meme:
12th May.
Visited Caitriona tonight for the first time since becoming a monster. She
slept, unaware of my presence, & for a time, I was content simply to
observe. As the hours passed, I began to wonder what might happen if she awoke
to find me in her room. Would she think me a wraith? Would she think it a
dream? Desiring to know, & to get closer, I sat down on the corner of the
bed, alert for any stirrings. Seeing none, I crawled up the bed until I reached
her side. Still she did not stir. Ever so carefully, I set my head upon the
pillow next to hers. She slept on. Drinking in her scent, I felt contentment
for the first time since fate & Fitzgerald
tore us apart. I closed my eyes & must have drifted off, because next I
knew, her arm fell across my chest. Startled awake, I found her blinking at me
in disbelief.
I lay there,
still as death, waiting for her to react. Her hand moved up my chest to my
face. She dragged her fingers across my jaw, pressed them against my lips,
touched the end of my nose, my eyebrows, my forehead. As she combed back my
hair, she whispered: “This must be a dream. But you feel so real, so alive. I
don’t ken how such a thing is possible; nor do I care. I only pray I shall
never awaken.”
“Aye.”
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