Sinful Sirens Blog Hop

Ashes of the Day, the fourth book in the Children of Night series, releases on May 21. As usual, life among the Fisher-Quintano vampires keeps getting a little more interesting. I think everyone's been wondering whether Conrad and Damian will ever manage to figure out where they stand with one another. I don't want to give too much away, but here's a sneak peek of at some of what the surly duo will be getting up to this time around. 

This is a scene that had to be cut out of book three (Now Comes the Night) due to length..

Damian clasped his hands around Conrad’s head and shifted closer until their lips met in a fierce kiss. A surprisingly helpless-sounding groan rumbled in Conrad’s throat. Damian reveled in it. The taste and the feel of Conrad’s mouth on his was so perfect, so familiar, so absolutely right. As was the sense of peace he felt when Conrad’s arms tightened around him.

There had been times, especially recently, when he’d felt fear while in Conrad’s embrace, times when Conrad’s enormous strength, and the realization of how much pain he could cause, had left Damian daunted and desperate to hide it. This was not one of those times. He felt cherished tonight. Loved. Safe.

Heat flared as Conrad’s hands roamed over Damian’s back, exploring every inch with a touch that was at once both possessive and needy. Fingers pressed harder into Damian’s flesh. If he’d been human, they might have left bruises. All they left him with now, however, was the stark realization that he was dressed in nothing but a thin silk robe. Even that seemed too much of a barrier. Damian peeled his mouth away from Conrad’s, pulling away only far enough to deliver a series of small bites—lower lip, chin, jaw, ear, neck.

“Damian.” Conrad’s voice shook as he breathed his name, making it less an order this time than a plea for him to continue.

Damian’s legs shook too, as he struggled to stay upright to not fall immediately to his knees as that voice, that sinful voice, worked its usual magic on him. Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself away. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” he complained as he extricated himself from Conrad’s arms.

A frown etched itself across Conrad’s brow. Growling impatiently, he tore off his shirt and flung it away. “Better?”

The sight of Conrad’s rugged chest and arms and shoulders, the strong muscles of his abdomen with the golden dusting of hair trailing over it to disappear into the waistband of his pants, caused Damian’s mouth to water. He shrugged, deliberately nonchalant. “It’s a start.” Then he did sink to his knees, grateful for the thick, velvety pile of the Kashan carpet that cushioned the impact.

The carpet had been billed as an antique, originally intended to grace the palace of some nameless shah or maharajah. Damian had picked the carpet out himself when he’d redecorated Conrad’s study shortly after they’d first taken up residence here. At the time, he’d been thinking only of making himself indispensable to Conrad, expressing his gratitude for having been brought here. And perhaps giving himself an innocent-seeming excuse for spending as much time as he could in Conrad’s private quarters.

The idea that he might someday be welcomed here for reasons that had nothing to do with housekeeping, that he might someday be in a position to put this carpet, and some of the other furnishings perhaps, to such very good use, hadn’t so much as crossed his mind. Back then, he’d seen no reason to even hope he and Conrad would ever be intimate again.

Leaning in, Damian lavished Conrad’s abdomen with kisses and gentle bites, then coasted his tongue along the hard ridges of muscles.

“Damian.” Conrad murmured his name again, partially in protest this time. As Damian set to work undoing the fastening of Conrad’s pants, Conrad’s fingers speared into Damian’s hair. Did he mean to pull him away, or press him closer? Damian wasn’t sure. He suspected Conrad wasn’t certain either.

Damian’s fingers stilled. Fighting against the hold on his hair, he pressed his face against the front of Conrad’s pants. “Please, querido,” he breathed softly, taking a moment to run his open mouth over the thick bulge of flesh that tented the soft linen, to breathe in the musky heat. “Please let me.”

http://store.samhainpublishing.com/ashes-of-the-day-p-7402.html

Only blood can break your heart.

Children of Night, Book 4

New Year’s Eve, 1999. The world is braced for Y2K, but that’s not the only ticking time bomb in Conrad’s life. Damian wouldn’t be the first vampire to find a way to die, but Conrad is determined he will not be one of them.

Present day. Damian struggles to trust that fate could possibly be kind enough to give him a love as perfect as Conrad’s. Conrad balances on the keen edge of his own fear that one more slip of his formidable control could drive his lover away—permanently. 

Julie learns the hard way it’s not just interspecies relationships that seldom work out. Even between vampires, love is not a smooth course.

Meanwhile, intrigue and conflict within the nest continue to grow, fueled in no small part by Georgia’s slipping hold on a deadly secret. Marc works to consolidate his position as leader of the ferals—and discovers that being a walking anomaly has certain advantages. Including some that are totally unexpected.

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Product Warnings

Contains more love triangles, more power struggles, more tears and teeth gnashing, and even more graphic scenes of manlove between moody, domestically inclined vampires than in previous editions. Definitely not recommended for anyone suffering from ALSSD (Auld Lang Syne Sensitivity Disorder) or with aversions to ballrooms, evening clothes, sarcasm, or close-quarter stiletto combat. 

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