A lot of you have been asking if THE CALLING series continues past the books that are out — DEATH CALLS and DEVOTION CALLS — and the answer is YES!
In April, you can read the DESIRE CALLS novella for free up at eharlequin.com. I will let you know when the first chapter of it goes up. They are putting up one chapter at a time.
In May, BLOOD CALLS will be released. BLOOD CALLS features Diego, the Spanish Lord turned vampire, that you have met in earlier books. The heroine, Ramona Escobar, is a painter who unwittingly becomes involved in an art fraud. A sneak peek at one of their first encounters follows this blog!
In addition — cross your fingers — the proposal for another 3 books is sitting on my editor’s desk.
So here’s a question for you if you’ve read the earlier books: What secondary characters would you like to come back as main characters in their own book?
Excerpt from BLOOD CALLS, May 2007, Silhouette Nocture
As he had two days earlier, he stood before her paintings, admiring them. Appreciating the sweep of her brush as it almost made love to the figures she had placed on the canvas. The movement of the brush strokes so alive, that he found himself laying his fingertips against the image on the canvas as if to prove to himself that it wasn’t real.
Ramona wondered what he was doing as he stood there, scrutinizing her artwork once more.
When he picked up his hand and touched the canvas, she had to go see what had drawn him. Feeling stronger thanks to the rest in the cab and the tea that had provided a boost to her flagging energy, she set the mug on the table and joined him.
He brushed his fingertips along the line of the woman’s hip in the painting. Slowly moved his hand upward along the slender sweep of her waist and within her, she imagined the motion of his hand against her body. Imagined how it would be for him to touch her the way he caressed the woman in the canvas — the woman she had imagined herself to be, lost in the throes of a lover’s embrace.
As he shifted his hand upward, over the shadow beneath the woman’s breast, she felt his energy beside her. Sensed his growing desire and her own.
When he looked at her, his ice blue eyes blazed with fire. “Did you feel this way as you painted?”
She had felt that way and more, she wanted to say, but couldn’t confess that with each stroke of the brush, she had imagined it was them together.
“No,” she said, but he faced her and laying a hand at her waist, said “Liar.”
He bent from his larger height, but she was already meeting him halfway, wanting to experience him if only for this one moment. A moment that had sprung from nowhere but was not to be missed.
His lips were a bit cold, but wonderfully soft on hers. Exploring as he sampled the edges of her lips with his and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close.
The body she had admired from afar was much like she had imagined. Big. Strong. Hard.
He was so hard beneath her hands as she grabbed hold of his shoulders. Hard against the flatness of her belly as he swept his arm beneath her buttocks and tightened his embrace.
She moaned at the thought of that hardness within her. Of his big body urging her downward into the giving softness of the bed that was just at the other side of the loft.
The sound of her need and the press of her small body jolted Diego from the enjoyment of her response.
As right as it felt — as she felt in his arms — this was so wrong, he thought and slowly eased away from her.