At Death It Begins Series - Book 1 | Add to Goodreads
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Book Trailer
Lendyn Hughes' grandmother has kept a secret from her for over thirty-one years, who Lendyn's parents are. A devastating break-up following her grandmother's death leaves Lendyn alone, confused and determined to find answers. Armed with only a name Lendyn attempts to unfurl the branches of her family tree never guessing it would put her life in danger.
For over two hundred years Englishman Callum Scott lived a life surrounded by beauty. A life free from all those annoying human emotions. That is until the American showed up. Lendyn flipped his world upside down and put him in the worst sort of jeopardy. He's starting to feel things and a murderer can't afford to feel.
My hand fumbled
through the darkness reaching for Devin. I needed to feel him, know he was
there. Something troubled me, but I couldn’t put a finger on what.
A morsel of his flesh
beneath my fingers would pacify me. Assure me he was still there. I reached
further until my fingers collided with the soft, peach under-flesh of his
forearm. I ran a hand across his solid form pausing for a moment to trace a
figure eight on the mound of muscle encompassing his shoulder. He had a body
fit to be relished even in the troubling hour’s lack of sleep brought.
He purred for a moment
before stretching an arm and rolling over to his stomach stifling his rhythmic
snoring. I tucked the sheets over him and kissed his golden hair. It was a
perfect evening; work failed to interrupt our plans which were a rarity. We
went for a moonlit walk along Paradise Cove, an exclusive beach, you had to be
a member of to stroll along. This meant no paparazzi to hassle us.
They were one of many
drawbacks to dating a celebrity, but as I admired the contours of his body,
there were benefits too. Though maybe tonight had been too perfect. That was
silly thinking. We didn’t spend enough time alone for anything to be too
perfect.
An eerie flash of red
in my peripheral caught my attention. I sat up noticing for the first time the
clock on the nightstand was flashing 11:41 over and over. One of the problems
to living in an old hotel like the Beltmore … things tended to fizzle out all
the time. Last month it was the air conditioning, before that, the hot water.
Maybe Devin was right, and it was time to move out of this hotel and into an
apartment. I shrugged, I’d debate that tomorrow.
I patted the
nightstand for my cell; it wasn’t there. Then I remembered I dropped it on the
dresser earlier this evening when Devin had pinned me there to deliver one of
his toe curling kisses. Trying to keep quiet while navigating the dark became
impossible when I stubbed my toe on one of Devin’s Sketchers and tripped
headfirst into the dresser. My hand flew to my mouth muffling a scream that
rushed to my lips. Devin stirred but didn’t wake.
Phew. The last thing I
needed was to wake him. He was a bit of a grump and once he was awake, he’d
have to leave. Work always came first.
Along the dresser, I
felt the smooth outline of my phone. When the screen lit up the time was only
2:08 a.m. still early and plenty of time to crawl back into bed and snuggle up
next to Devin. Halfway back to bed and my phone started vibrating. There were
fourteen missed calls and one voicemail, all of which, came from one number—Emma.
Now, I was a bit worried. It’d been a while since the last time I’d spoken with
my best friend Emma.
Emma had this
philosophy about calling once and not calling again until you called her back,
hence my worry.
I dialed my voicemail,
“Wednesday, 12:15 a.m—Lend, its Em call me as soon as you—BEEP.” Em was calling
on the other line. Why was I so nervous to answer it?
“Em what’s going on—”
I swallowed, “—is everything okay?”
Emma didn’t even get
my name out before she broke into sobs. Maybe she and “Mister Perfect” broke up
again.
“Hello,” I said a
little louder, “you still there?” All I could hear was sniffling, maybe she
accidentally pocket dialed me. I debated hanging up and calling her back when a
familiar English accent came on the line—Mister Perfect. “Lendyn it’s Zach …
I’m afraid I have bad news … there was an accident involving Gigi,” he paused
to take a breath as I held mine, “I’m afraid she didn’t make it.”
The room began to
spin, and gravity pulled at me. Was I dreaming? This had to be a dream.
Zach’s voice
continued, but I didn’t hear anything except a loud buzzing as my legs gave
out, and I collapsed to the floor.
At Death It Begins Series - Book 2 | Add to Goodreads
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Lendyn Hughes had everything she wanted. A family that welcomed her with open arms and a man who loved her as-is. So what if they were all vampires, love picked you not the other way round. Besides she was half vampire herself.One brief encounter. One wrong decision took it all away.Now Lendyn is trying to remember what in the world she’s exactly doing in London, why she’s back with her ex, where she got the bruises covering her ribs from and who the taunting voice in her head is.I’m sorry. Two words Callum never hated more. They were the two words he’d found on the Dear John note in Lendyn’s room. With one breath she declared her love and in the next breath she left him. Now his future looks bleak without Lendyn to color the way.
It
was a beautiful day for a wedding. The English countryside provided a glorious
canvas of green, while butterflies dancing along flowers provided an array of
color, and bees buzzing provided the summer tune making it a day cut from a
fairy tale. Surrounding magnolia bushes were in bloom, their fragrance carried along
the breeze. From Callum’s bedroom window was an excellent view of the gazebo
where Zach, his cousin, the brother his vampire life prevented him from having,
was about to marry a loud obnoxious American named Emma. Emma wore on his
nerves but she made Zach happy so he would learn to suffer her disagreeable
ways.
Decorated
in garlands of ice blue roses and white gardenia buds, the gazebo was as lovely
as a painting.
Callum’s
gaze, however, focused on the gardener pruning evergreens around the gazebo. Every
squeeze of the shears flexed the gardener’s biceps. His skin dewed, veins
bulging with the exertion wetted Callum’s appetite. Since Lendyn’s release from
the hospital, he, along with the rest of his family, had been quenching their
hunger from a supply of blood kept in a repository down in the wine cellars
within the dungeons below Scott manor.
Sinking
your teeth into a plastic IV bag did not bring the same thrill, or relief,
sinking into the supple flesh of a neck, or thigh, did.
The
gardener put his shears down and leaned against a marble column pressing a hand
to his forehead shading his eyes as he looked up towards sky.
Up
towards Callum.
Though
with his human eyes there was no way the gardener could see this far. Callum
watched the gardener’s jugular strain in a thick line along his neck.
Curse
his vow not to spill a drop of human blood in honor of today’s wedding. The
gardener started to rub at his neck and shoulder beckoning Callum to take a
taste.
His
blood called to him, sang of it’s sweetness. Callum couldn’t stop his fangs
from poking through his bottom lip as he bit down hard. He slammed the window
shut, locked it, and pulled the curtains closed. He took another second to get
his breathing back to normal.
He
tapped his fingers on the doorknob of his wardrobe, his gaze straying back to
the window.
No.
He
pulled open the doors and gagged at the sickening scent of cinnamon. Marco’s
scent. Marco. His cousin and the man responsible for killing Emery, Callum's
mother, he was also the man responsible for putting Lendyn in the hospital in
the first place. Originally, Callum believed Marco attacked Lendyn out of
spite. A means to punish Callum for all eternity, but that wasn’t the case. As
ludicrous as it was, Marco was on a mission to destroy everything. Callum’s
unhappiness was just an added benefit.
Marco’s
wretched scent continued to hang around attached to the tailored suit he made
for Callum. Callum yanked the suit from the depths of his closet and hung it on
the door.
Yes,
he claimed he’d disposed of it as he’d been ordered to do. Marco’s coup d’état
severed all ties to their coven, their family, and in accordance with tradition
everything he handled was burned. Callum had never seen Emma smile wider than
when she watched every last evidence of Marco’s existence burn to ash, her
wedding dress being the last item thrown onto the flaming pyre.
After
that she’d become more flippant and rude to everyone, but especially him.
Emma’s last injection had been that night and her vampire side was quick in
taking over.
He
rubbed the suit’s lapel between his fingers which he did every day, every time
he examined the suit. He touched every button, rubbed every seam and squeezed
every pocket. And, like every other time, he found nothing. Callum steepled his
hands together and tapped his fingers on his chin.
Whether
it was the way Marco glared at the jacket each time Callum came for a fitting,
the cold stare down with Marco right before getting the suit, or the shiver
that played down his spine when his fingers brushed Marco’s as he took the
suit, he couldn’t say. Whatever instance it was though, made it a compulsion to
keep the suit. Callum knew he couldn’t get rid of it because a vital clue hid
within the stitching. He just hadn’t found that bloody clue yet.
He
sneered at the suit before tucking it back into the depths of his wardrobe. He
laid down on his bed rolling over to inhale the scent still lingering on his
sheets—lilac.
It
gave him chills.
He
let go of the sheets and slid from the bed. Better to forget almost moments
than try to repeat them. Lendyn consumed his thoughts, his fantasies. If not
for continual interruptions from family, one of their almost moments was
certain to turn dangerous. Every time her skin touched his he was willing to
throw every rule away to never break contact. Worse was that these almost
moments could end in blood being spilled; and not his.
He
walked over to the wall separating his room from Lendyn’s and ran his hands
along it. He couldn't say what he feared more, giving it all, or withdrawing
completely. They’d danced along this knife blade so long he wasn’t sure he
could do anything without being cut completely.
As
much as he yearned for Lendyn, he feared her too. Logic leapt out a window
whenever he was in her company. His emotions, which were lacking before, were a
torrent now that buoyed to her, rising and falling with her changing moods.
It
was disconcerting to be so attached to another. To worry as he did about
Lendyn. He’d vowed to never let another person corrupt him, yet here he was
utterly at her mercy. He hoped she was incapable of cruelty in sport or else
his heart would be crushed.
Elle Jefferson lives up in northern Arizona with her two beautiful sons, wonderful husband and her German Shepard Dorrie. When she's not reading or writing she's painting or enjoying the great outdoors.
She is currently working on her follow-up to At Death it Begins, In Death's Shadow, and hopes to have it released in early December.
Website - www.ellejefferson.blogspot.com
Twitter - @Elle_Jefferson
Amazon - Amazon Author Page
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/pages/Elle-Jefferson/509752569110446
Prize pack 1
e-books of Temp by Kelly Collins, Broken by K. Webster, Ignite by Tessa Teevan, The Hart Family box set by Ella Fox, Fade In by Mo Mabie, Blind Obsession by Ella Frank, and A is for Alpha by Laurel Curtis.
Prize pack 2
ebooks of A Window to Love & Reclining Nude in Chicago by Fifi Flowers, Push The Envelope and Hit the Wall by Rochelle Paige, Save Me From Myself by Stacey Mosteller, Annie of London by L.A. Rikand, Goodbye Caution by Jacquelyn Ayres and Infamous Ellen James by NA Alcorn.
Prize Pack 3
A signed paperback of At Death It Begins and a bag of book related swag (i.e. bracelet, pen, bookmark, 5$ GC to Amazon, notepad) Open to US Shipping
Prize Pack 4
A signed paperback of In Death's Touch and a bag of book related swag (i.e. pen, bookmark, 5 GC to Amazon, notepad) Open to US Shipping
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