Title: Night’s Surrender
Author: Amanda Ashley
Series: Children of the Night #7
Publisher: Zebra
Genre: Romance-Paranormal
Publisher: Zebra
Genre: Romance-Paranormal
Pages: 352
“A
master of her craft.” —Maggie Shayne
“Amanda Ashley is a master storyteller.” —Christine Feehan
RT BOOK REVIEWS Career Achievement winner in
Paranormal Romance!
Aspiring
actress Abbey Marie Cordova knows more than most people do about vampires—she
was born among them, the only human child in a centuries-old family of the
undead, and determined to stay that way. But a chance encounter with dark,
mysterious Niccola Desanto rocks her to the core. Nick is a vampire, and he’s
the only man who has ever made her feel so beautiful, so cherished, and so
passionately desired …
Nick
has spent hundreds of years on his own, and the decadent pleasures of the world
have lost their appeal. Rumor has it the vampire who made him has regained her
humanity—the temptation to find her and demand to know the secret is
overwhelming. But one glance at innocently alluring Abbey changes everything.
Drawn to her with dangerous, consuming passion, Nick will need more than a
lifetime to love her…
About the Author
Amanda Ashley is one of those rare birds
– a California native. She’s lived in Southern California her whole life and
loves it (except for the earthquakes). She and her husband share a home with a
fluffy Pomeranian named Lady, a tortoise named Buddy, and a wild sparrow named
Tweety.
Amanda and her alter ego, Madeline
Baker, have written over 50 books, many of which have appeared on various
bestseller lists, including the New York Times List, the Waldenbooks Bestseller
list, and the USA Today list. Not bad for someone who started
writing just for the fun of it.
For More Information, visit Amanda’s website.
Excerpt
Chapter
Three
Tossing the want ads onto the kitchen
table, Abbey blew a stray wisp of hair from her brow. She had learned to use a
computer in high school, though she had no real aptitude for anything beyond
the basics. She wished now she had paid more attention, since it seemed every
job required at least some degree of computer savvy, and she was woefully
lacking. All her friends were into the latest social media, but she had never
gotten the hang of finding her way in the digital world. As for texting . . .
Abbey shook her head. She much preferred talking to people face-to-face.
With a sigh of resignation, she phoned
for a cab. Her father had offered to buy her a car, but she had no real need
for one. Most of the places she had to go were within walking distance of her
apartment.
Even after all the years she had lived
in New York, the sights and sounds of the city filled Abbey with excitement.
After paying the cab driver, she stepped out of the car and quickly became part
of the crowd. These days, most stores were open 24/7, so whether it was day or
night, the streets were swamped with cars that drove themselves, the sidewalks
packed with people who were always in a hurry—rushing to get to work or eager
to go home, dashing off to see a movie, a Broadway show, a free concert in the
park.
Hitching her handbag over her
shoulder, Abbey stared at the gleaming glass-fronted façade of the computer
store. Her knowledge of digital devices started and ended with her iPod, which
was nothing like the current high-tech phones, iPads, and computers. She could
find music, text when she had to, and read the latest news on her iPod; anything
else was beyond her.
Taking a deep breath, she opened the
door and stepped into a world that was totally unfamiliar to her.
A quick glance around showed computers
in all types and sizes—small towers with enormous screens, monitors that didn’t
need a tower, wireless laptops, and devices that were no bigger than a cell
phone.
You could buy a keyboard if you were
old-school, but newer computer models responded to voice commands. She had
heard that, in another year or so, those would be obsolete and man and computer
would communicate with thought waves.
Shelf after shelf held nothing but
computers, monitors, keyboards, software programs and gadgets, and stacks of
technical manuals. It looked like geek heaven, she mused. All around her,
people chatted enthusiastically about the latest software, the newest addition
to this or that. They might as well have been speaking a foreign language,
because Abbey didn’t understand a word they were saying.
With a shake of her head, she turned
and headed for the exit. Maybe she could get a job in Beverly Hills as a house
sitter or a dog walker. Cash only. She wouldn’t need any computer skills for
that! She could stay in Hollywood with Mara and Logan until she found a place
of her own.
Lost in thought, Abbey didn’t see the
man coming through the door until she slammed into him. It was like crashing
into a mountain.
“Whoa, girl,” he exclaimed. “Are you
on your way to a fire?”
“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t . . .” Abbey
glanced up—and up. He was a tall mountain. Blinking up at him, she took a step
back. She was used to handsome men, but this guy . . .
He looked like the GQ Hunk of the
Month with his long black hair, broad shoulders, trim waist, and vibrant blue
eyes.
He reached out a hand to steady her.
“Are you all right?”
“What? Yes. No. I mean, of course.”
He grinned, sending her temperature
rising and her pulse racing. It was disconcerting, the effect he had on her.
She had met a lot of good-looking men. None of them had made her feel like
throwing herself into his arms.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.
“There’s a club just down the street. Dante’s. Do you know it?”
“Yes.” She knew it all too well.
Dante’s catered mainly to out-of-work musicians and down-on-their-luck actors
and screenwriters.
“Shall we?”
It was a tempting offer—sharing a
drink with an incredibly handsome man. But gorgeous or not, he was a stranger.
He cocked his head to the side. “Is
there a problem?”
“No.” What could go wrong? Dante’s was
just two blocks down, the sidewalks were crowded with people. She had a .22
semi-automatic in her purse—a goingaway gift from her father. Smiling up at
him, she said, “Lead the way.”
He took her hand as they threaded
their way down the street to the club. The touch of his fingers twining with
hers made her heart race and her toes curl with pleasure.
Inside, he guided her to a small table
in the back, held her chair as she sat down. “I’m Nick.” His voice, deep and
whiskey-rough, moved over her like a caress.
“Abbey.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Abbey.”
“Even though I almost knocked you
down?”
A laugh rumbled deep in his throat. “I
don’t think I was in any real danger from a little thing like you.”
She would have been offended if any
other man had called her a “little thing,” but the way he said it, the admiration
in his dark blue eyes, made it sound like high praise.
Their waitress arrived then. Abbey
ordered a dry martini, Nick ordered a glass of Pinot Noir.
When the waitress left to turn in
their order, Nick leaned forward, his forearms crossed on the table, his gaze
intent upon Abbey’s face. “Tell me about yourself.”
“There’s not much to tell. I wasted
the last five years trying to be something I’m not cut out for.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“I thought I wanted to be an actress,
but I recently came to the realization that I just don’t have what it takes.”
She shrugged, thinking how good it felt to finally admit it out loud. “I guess
I just don’t want it bad enough to make the tough choices.”
He nodded. “So, what are you going to
do now?”
“I’m not sure. Go back home, I guess.”
“Where’s home?”
“Northern California. My parents have
a ranch there. But enough about me. What about you? What do you do?”
“Nothing much. You might say I’m footloose and
fancy free. No job. No family. No prospects.”
Abbey bit down on her lower lip,
uncertain how to reply. Was he recovering from some horrible tragedy? An
entrepreneur down on his luck? Or just some incredibly handsome drifter with no
goals and no ambition?
She was still trying to think of a
suitable response when the waitress arrived with their drinks. Nick smiled at
the woman, tossed twenty-five dollars on the tray, and told her to keep the
change.
He might be a drifter, Abbey thought,
but he didn’t appear to be strapped for cash.
“What were you looking for in the computer
store?” he asked.
“Nothing, really. I was thinking about
getting a job and thought I should try to get up-to-date on the latest
technology, but . . .” She smiled self-consciously. “I have no talent in that
area, either. It’s all Greek to me. I have trouble remembering to charge my
cell phone. The new computers . . .” She shook her head.
He laughed softly. “Maybe I can help
with that. I know a bit about computers and software.”
“You do?”
“I was a computer programmer in
another life.”
“Really?” She would never have pegged
him as a computer nerd. “Well, I’d appreciate any help you could give me. Of
course, I’ll have to buy a new computer first. I’m afraid mine is woefully
archaic and past repair.”
“Well, when you’re ready to make the
plunge, just let me know.”
Abbey sipped her drink. Who was this
man, really? He appeared to be in his mid-thirties, yet there was something
about him that made her think he was older. Perhaps it was his eyes—they seemed
world-weary, and wise beyond his years.
The silence between them made her
uncomfortable. She was scrambling for something witty to say when the DJ
selected a love song.
Nick set his glass aside. “Care to
dance?”
Abbey’s heartbeat kicked up a notch at
the thought of being in his arms. She nodded, her throat suddenly dry as he
took her by the hand and led her onto the tiny dance floor.
He drew her into his arms, holding her
far closer than was proper between strangers. His arm around her waist was
solid—protective, not imprisoning. His thighs brushed hers, his breath was warm
when it caressed her cheek.
She looked up and his gaze met
hers—intense and deep blue. For a moment, she imagined him probing her mind,
uncovering her deepest secrets. For a moment, she imagined she could read his
thoughts in return, imagined that he was alone and lonely, that only she could
ease his pain.
Blinking rapidly, she looked away, and
now she was acutely aware of his body pressed so close to hers, of how
intimately he held her. Only a breath apart, she mused. And it was too far. His
hand lightly stroked her back, up and down, and she sighed with the sheer
pleasure of his touch, of being in his arms. She felt warm and achy in the
deepest part of her being and she wished suddenly that they were alone in her
apartment. In her bed . . .
Blushing furiously, she glanced up at
him, grateful that he couldn’t read her mind.
He smiled at her, his arm tightening
around her waist as the music ended and they returned to their table. “If I
asked you out, what would you say?”
“Ask me and see.” She had intended for
her reply to be saucy and flirtatious; instead, it emerged as a husky whisper.
What was there about this man that she found so irresistible? It was more than
his devastating good looks, more than the rich timbre of his voice. Something
primal within him called to something wild and untouched within the deepest
part of her being in ways she recognized but didn’t understand. She was meant
to be his, she thought, as he was meant to be hers.
“Would you go out with me tomorrow
night, Abbey Marie?”
“I’d love to.”
“Pick you up at eight?”
Nodding, she pulled one of her
business cards from her wallet and handed it to him. His fingers brushed hers
as he took the card.
“Eight,” she said breathlessly.
It wasn’t until Nick had put her in a
cab and she was on her way home that Abbey stopped to wonder how he knew her
middle name.
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