In 2009 I wrote a book called Death, The Vamp and his Brother. I loved this book. Loved it. It is still one of my favourites. It won The Romance Studio’s 2009 Best Erotic Paranormal Novel. But it never really found an audience. Perhaps because readers didn’t know what to make of it? Maybe it was the title Death, The Vamp and his Brother. Let’s be serious, it’s silly. It doesn’t–didn’t–portray the theme of the book at all, and the theme of the book is destiny and how it has its dark way with us.
So when Samhain Publishing asked me a few months ago if I wanted to re-release it a month before the second book in the series (Dark Embrace), I said yes. When they asked if I would be happy with a new cover, I said YES. When they aksed if I’d be okay with changing the title I laughed. Did I want to change the title? YES!!! When it was decided Dark Destiny was to be the new title, I got very excited.
And then I was sent this cover:
And my excitement went through the roof. Is that not one of the sexiest covers you’ve ever seen?
Today I received Dark Destiny‘s first review. And once again, my excitement shot through the roof.
“DARK DESTINY is a very intriguing, very hot book. You have sexy Death who prefers you call her Fred, a normal Aussie surfer/lifeguard, vampires, a Principatus and a really gross first horseman, who could ask for more? Oh yes did I mention the burning sheets or walls or wherever they landed and the unexpected realization that Death can actually fall in love. Lexxie Couper has come up with a fantastic world and I hope to visit it many more times.” – Fresh Fiction Reviews
(I know, Death, the Vamp and his Brother had been reviewed often but as of this point, Death, the Vamp and his Brother no longer exists *grin*)
It’s not often a book gets a second chance at life, but I guess it’s fitting with Dark Destiny…after all the vampire in Dark Destiny, Ven, was meant to die but he didn’t. He got a second chance… And as for Patrick, the hero…wow, you won’t BELIEVE the second life he gets.
The Apocalypse can’t stop desire like this. Can it?
Principatus, Book 1
Death exists for one purpose and one purpose only: to sever the life-threads of the living. She does her job with pride and an unwavering commitment. Nothing ruffles her. Until she encounters Patrick Watkins.
The Australian lifeguard pushes all her buttons—and makes her tailbone itch like crazy. And when her tailbone itches, it means trouble is brewing. Big trouble.
As far as Patrick’s concerned, everything Death tells him is a load of bull. But what if she’s right? How is he expected to save mankind from the worst fate of all—the Apocalypse? Especially when all he can think about is how quickly he’s falling in love with the most feared Horseman of them all…
Warning: This book contains enough heresy to shame the Devil, more scorching sex than one person can handle, Two sexy Australian brothers and lots of Australian colloquialism. A bloody lot of Australian colloquialism.
Fred noticed three things straight away. Patrick Watkins was looking directly at her, he was stark naked and he was semi-aroused.
By the Powers, he’s huge.
“Who the hell are you?”
His deep, angry growl made her jump. She stared at his face—his face, Fred, his face—her mouth dry. “You can see me!”
“Of course, I can see you. And I saw you at the beach today.” Sharp green eyes narrowed. “What the fuck did you do to my drowning victim?”
Fred clenched her jaw, giving the human before her a level look. “For your information, your drowning victim was a pedophile.”
A shimmer of disgust ignited in Patrick Watkins’ dark green eyes before he clenched his own jaw. “Mr. Peabody was alive until you touched him.”
Fred cocked her head to the side, trying like hell to ignore the fact that the man seemed to have forgotten he was naked—and still partially erect. Ignore it? How do you ignore something that impressive? “Yes, I must say, you did a very good job resurrecting him from his initial passing. But it was his time and no interference, no matter how skilled or stubborn, would have saved him.”
Patrick’s eyes widened. “Interference? His time?” Anger flared in his unwavering stare. “Who the fuck are you? The Grim Reaper?”
Fred inclined her head slightly. “Just call me Fred.”
“Well, Fred.” Patrick took a step toward her, the anger in his face growing dark. Menacing. “I’d saved him. I don’t care how bloody sexy you are, or who you think you are, he was alive until you touched him. What the hell did you do to him?”
Fred’s heart stopped for a split second, before pounding triple-time. Sexy? A grin stretched her lips and a wild flutter erupted between her thighs. He thought she was sexy.
He also thinks you’re a murderer.
She pulled a face, crossing her arms across her chest. Her nipples brushed against her forearms, sending a little jolt of damp electricity into the pit of her belly and she bit back a curse. How was it possible this one mortal male made her so horny? “I really can’t explain it all to you,” she snapped, irked by her body’s irrational response and Patrick Watkins’ not-so-irrational agitation. “Just know Peabody is in a much more deserving place now he’s gone.”
Patrick cocked an eyebrow. “So, what? You’re a vigilante?”
Fred ground her teeth. “As I’ve already said, I can’t explain it.”
“Try. Before I call the cops.”
Fred couldn’t help herself. She burst out laughing. “The cops?”
Black anger flashed across Patrick’s face. “Look, love, you’ve got exactly twenty seconds to give me an answer, or I’ll knock you on your arse, tie you to the bed and let the authorities deal with you when they get here.”
A hot, wet wave of sinful pleasure rolled through Fred at the idea of Patrick Watkins tying her to the bed. Damn. She’d never gone down that path of sexual gratification before, but the Australian lifeguard made her body fantasize about all sorts of things it hadn’t before. All of them very, very wicked. “Patrick Watkins,” she said, unable to stop her gaze roaming over his naked body. “I would like nothing more than to see you try.”
Another wave of fury—and something else far more primitive—charged his expression. “Okay. If that’s the way it’s going to be.”
He moved. Much quicker than Fred expected. Much quicker than any human should. One moment he stood glaring at her from beside his bedroom door, the next he was slamming her against the wall, his fingers locked around her wrists, his hips rammed into hers.
Immediate and absolute pleasure tore through her. Dark, intoxicating, submissive pleasure. Her sex constricted, her breath caught in her throat. She’d never been handled so. Even her Roman had treated her with kid gloves, like he’d been too scared of her to truly show how much she’d aroused him. Patrick Watkins however, knew no reason to be scared of her. And it made her sex flood with cream.
By the Powers, she wanted to fuck him and be fucked by him.
The licentious thought whipped through her head and, before she knew what was going on, her jeans, boots and t-shirt vanished. Leaving her just as naked as the man pressing her against the wall with his hard body.
He froze, his fingers digging into her wrists, his cock grounding against her belly. “What. The fuck. Is going on?”