Dark Assassins Series Book Tour & Giveaway

That was the moment he spotted her from the corner of his eye.
Her mass of cascading dark, curly hair bounced against the burgundy mid-length
trench coat wrapped tightly around her to ward off the chill of the late September
night. But with her head tilted down, he was unable to see her face. Even from the
distance of over two hundred yards, he could hear her mumbling to herself. As hard
as he listened, he couldn’t quite make out the words. The coat did nothing to cover
her curves hidden underneath, and he found himself enthralled by the sway of her
hips. His gaze traveled down her curvy body, and his groin tightened with every step
she took.
Before he could contemplate his actions, he leapt from the deck and flew down the
mountain, stopping when he stood, hidden in the darkness, a few feet from her. He
forced himself to widen the distance between them, and started trailing her.
Experience and his enhanced senses kept him out of sight from her and the others
who ventured out on the cold night. He soon found that she was so absorbed in
whatever happened to be on her mind that he could have stood right in front of her,
and she would’ve ignored him and kept walking.
He trailed her as she closed in on the diner on the corner, learning that the small
eatery was her destination on most nights. She chose that moment to brush her long
hair out of her face. With that tiny movement, her fragrance of lemongrass and green
apple drifted back toward him. A low snarl erupted from his throat as his body
stiffened in shock; the unexpected reaction to her scent was so fierce, he was torn
between his instant desire for her and self-preservation. The sound he hadn’t
managed to smother must’ve reached her, because her head turned toward him and
her brows drew down in confusion. A split second before her eyes landed on where
he stood, he stepped back, pissed at his infinitesimal loss of control. A silent sigh of
relief passed his lips as she shook her head, not able to spot in him the dark, and
continued on her way.
In his over two hundred year existence, he’d never been attracted to a human. Blood
was the one reason that he interacted with humans, and even that could be taken
from a donor without him having him drink from the source. But as he tried to pass
off a reason he reacted to her in such an elemental way, he continued to follow her,
finding himself outside the door that read Blue Plate Diner. Obscured by the door,
his eyes tracked movement as the waitress greeted her as if they were old
friends. For a reason he couldn’t fathom, he felt a surge of jealousy. He was still a
stranger to this captivating human, and she intrigued him.
Without quite knowing why he had followed her, he opened the door and walked into
the chrome and tiled cafe, taking the time to pull up the hood of his sweatshirt. He
scanned the place and settled for a booth at the back of the restaurant, where he
could watch her without being detected.
By the time he’d sat down and scanned for any possible dangers, she had pulled out

a laptop along with a sheaf of papers filled with formulas he couldn’t
decipher. Between typing and writing in the margins of the already filled pages, the
concentration on her work was total.
He found himself mesmerized by the play of emotions on her face as she worked. A
smile for when she figured out a problem, or a frown when something didn’t quite fit,
and everything in between. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. When she bit her lip
in concentration, it took all of his control to keep his distance from her. He found that
he had to grip the table to keep himself still, when all he wanted to do was devour
her.
The spell was broken when the waitress had placed a club sandwich with a side of
fries on the free space next to her elbow. He forced himself to relax, but kept his
eyes on her when she reached for the sandwich absently and ate without really
paying attention to anything else but the work in front of her.
After several hours, her hand covered a small yawn. She glanced at her watch, and
he felt the side of his mouth tilt as she rolled her eyes. Thanking the waitress, she
reached for two tens in her pocket and dropped them on the table before she packed
up and left.
From that night on, he made a point to arrive at the diner minutes after she was
seated, and spent hours scanning her face as he watched her work. And every night,
he slid into the shadows as she walked home to her small cottage, with its bright
white siding with cornflower blue shutters that matched her perfectly. Each night, he
waited until she was safely inside with the door locked, before he made his way back
to his home on the mountain.
His attraction also came with a somewhat unwanted reaction. Protectiveness. He
estimated her height at under five and a half feet tall, and although she walked
everywhere in their relatively safe little town—to her job at Standard Biotech and her
home, several blocks from the diner—he had to tamp down