3-day sale! 3-day blitz! Legally Undead by Margo Bond Collins

A reluctant vampire hunter, stalking New York City as only a scorned bride can.

Elle Dupree has her life all figured out: first a wedding, then her Ph.D., then swank faculty parties where she’ll serve wine and cheese and introduce people to her husband the lawyer.

But those plans disintegrate when she walks in on a vampire draining the blood from her fiancé Greg. Horrified, she screams and runs--not away from the vampire, but toward it, brandishing a wooden letter opener.

As she slams the improvised stake into the vampire’s heart, a team of black-clad men bursts into the apartment. Turning around to face them, Elle discovers that Greg’s body is gone—and her perfect life falls apart.

$.99 for One Week Only

A Top-10 Preditors and Editors Readers' Poll Best Science Fiction and Fantasy Novel

Excerpt

The worst thing about vampires is that they're dead. That whole wanting to suck your blood business runs a close second, but for sheer creepiness, it's the dead bit that gets me every time. They're up and walking around and talking and sucking blood, but they're dead. And then there's the whole terminology problem--how can you kill something that's already dead? It's just wrong.

I was twenty-four the first time I . . . destroyed? dispatched? . . . a vampire. That's when I found out that all the books and movies are wrong. When you stick a wooden stake into their hearts, vampires don't disintegrate into dust. They don't explode. They don't spew blood everywhere. They just look surprised, groan, and collapse into a pile of corpse. But at least they lie still then, like corpses are supposed to.

Since that first kill (I might as well use the word--there really isn’t a better one), I've discovered that only if you're lucky do vampires look surprised before they groan and fall down. If you're unlucky and miss the heart, they look angry. And then they fight.

There are the other usual ways to kill vampires, of course, but these other ways can get a bit complicated. Vampires are notoriously difficult to trick into sunlight. They have an uncanny ability to sense when there's any sunlight within miles of them, and they're awfully good at hiding from it. Holy water doesn't kill them; it just distracts them for a while, and then they get that angry look again. And it takes a pretty big blade to cut off someone's head--even an already dead someone--and carrying a great big knife around New York City, even the Bronx, is a sure way to get arrested. Nope, pointy sticks are the best way to go, all the way around.

My own pointy stick is actually more of a little knife with wood inlay on the blade--the metal makes it slide in easier. I had the knife specially made by an old Italian guy in just about the only ratty part of Westchester, north of the city. I tried to order one off the internet, but it turns out that while it’s easy to find wood-inlay handles, the blades themselves tend to be metal. Fat lot those people know.

But I wasn’t thinking any of this when I pulled the knife out of the body on the ground. I was thinking something more along the lines of “Oh, bloody hell. Not again.”

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Universal Kindle Link: http://bookShow.me/B00KKV44BK

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 About the Author

Margo Bond Collins is the author of urban fantasy, contemporary romance, and paranormal mysteries. She has published a number of novels, including Sanguinary, Taming the Country Star, Legally Undead, Waking Up Dead, and Fairy, Texas. She lives in Texas with her husband, their daughter, and several spoiled pets. Although writing fiction is her first love, she also teaches college-level English courses online. She enjoys reading romance and paranormal fiction of any genre and spends most of her free time daydreaming about heroes, monsters, cowboys, and villains, and the strong women who love them—and sometimes fight them.

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Happy Release Day to The Space Captain's Courtesan by KC Klein w/a #giveaway

The Space Captain’s Courtesan

KC Klein

Sci-fi Romance, Space Opera, @74k

Mya is having a crap day.

Princess Mya Centauri is stranded and alone on the shady Bates Space Station. With rumors of her father’s dethronement escalating, she needs more than her wits and entitlement to protect her—she needs a hero. So when she unexpectedly finds herself mistaken for some whore by Centauri’s most notorious assassin, and at one time her father’s most trusted man, she decides things can only get worse.

Jax is having a crap decade.

Framed for a crime he didn’t commit, Captain Jax Rouss, an ex-Royal Guard, is now an escaped prisoner with a price on his head. Embittered after years of trying to clear his name, Jax wants nothing whatsoever to do with the family he once swore to protect. So when he wakes up to find that the sweet, smelling patron-pleaser he’s purchased is not only lovely, but already in his bed, he decides things can only get better. 

But with lives at stake and kingdoms in jeopardy,  Mya will do anything to convince the one man who hates the Royal family above all else to become her hero, even if that means being the one thing he can’t resist…The Space Captain’s Courtesan. 

Pre-order Buy Links:   Amazon    B&N    iBooks

Excerpt

“One time won’t be enough. I’ll tell you that much, princess,” he said as his hand was traveling down her outer thigh and then back up to cup her bottom.

A punch to her gut couldn’t have been any more shocking. She sat straight up, pushing him off with a burst of strength she hadn’t known she possessed. “What did you say? What did you call me?”

Did he know? Had he known all along? Was he loyal to her father or…her brother? Would he keep her captive until her brother arrived for the reward?

“What? What’s wrong?” He sounded a little like a child whose favorite toy had just been taken away.

“You called me princess. Why would you do that?” She couldn’t quite make out his features and took comfort in the dimness as she tried stuffing her breasts back into her suit.

“It’s an endearment. And since I don’t know your name I thought it sounded better than whore.”

She gasped. Where was that tranq-pen when she needed it?

“Not that I have anything against whores,” he back-peddled. “I love whores. Look at you. I have absolutely nothing against you.”

“I am not a whore.”

He sighed a very put-on-upon sigh. “Ah right, there’s a politically correct name. Ummm patron-pleaser? Was that it?”

“Patron-please this.” She had found the tranq-pen beside her leg and in one quick movement had the needle stabbed deep into his shoulder.

He yelled. “What the…”

Mya quickly scrambled off the bed, not at all sure where she was going to run.

He pulled the pen out of his arm and looked down. “Tranq-gun? Jupiter’s tits, you stuck me with a tranq-gun?”

Mya’s heart was pounding. She’d never actually used the tranq-pen before. The instructions had said the effects were immediate, but as to the definition of immediate she wasn’t sure. Could he kill her in the amount of time he had before the drug took effect? It looked like he could kill very quickly. “It’s a tranq-pen, not a gun. The effects will only put you out for a few hours verse a gun that could put you down permanently.”

Any second now. The effects should kick in right about…

“Ahhhhh.” He threw the pen against the wall and lurched for her, hands extended as if to close around her throat.

Mya never moved so fast in her life. She jumped out of the way and headed toward the exit. She didn’t make it that far. He tackled her legs and they both went down. She placed a well-aimed kick at his head. He caught her foot and twisted her leg. She rolled over on her back to prevent her knee from snapping.

Now. Now. Now would be good.

He held her to the floor, both arms above her head. His knees pinned on top of her legs. “Why! Why did you tranq me? Is it to rob me blind? Is that it?”

Her space suit was still unzipped, breasts barely covered as her heart slammed into her chest. “Holy Jupiter, I gave you enough tranq to down an elephant. Why are you still awake?”

He shook his head like a rabid dog. Suddenly, she was glad of the scarce lighting—not wanting to see in his eyes what he was planning to do to her. “No. No, if I am going out, you’ll be here when I wake up.”

He clasped her wrist and stood, dragging her over to his bag in the corner. He stumbled, and for a blessed moment she thought he was going down. Then he righted himself and dragged her across the floor like a rag doll.

When she saw the current-cuffs, she renewed her efforts to fight. There was no way handcuffing her would work out in her favor. “Help. Help!”

“Scream all you want. There’s no one here that’s going to save you.” Even in the graying shadows she could see his wicked smile.

Everything happened so fast. A cuff was slapped on her wrist, the other end to his. “That should keep you,” he growled.

She was sprawled out on the floor, arm at an awkward angle, spacesuit surrendering any attempts at decency. “My God, was there even tranquilizer in that pen?”

“Apparently not, Princess. I feel fine.” He took a step, then stilled. His body swayed, one arm out for balance. Mya had about two seconds to get up and push him in the direction of the bed. She had no intention of getting crushed underneath two hundred-plus pounds of unconscious man.

She’d once watched a logger take down a huge pine that had the misfortune of being in the path of Prince Sar’s new swimming pool. When the tree fell, the whole ground shook with the vibration. Watching him fall, Mya felt sorry for the bed.

The momentum of his fall propelled her forward, and she ended face down, half on the bed and half off. It was two full minutes of stilted breathing and silent praying before she was positive he was out. She was going to issue a strongly worded complaint to whoever defined the word immediate in the tranq-pen advertisement.

She pushed her sweat-dampened hair out of her eyes, shoved her breasts back into her suit and zipped back up. With dignity resorted, Mya surveyed her predicament.

Oh Saturn’s rings, she was so screwed.

She needed to think, and being face down in the bed wasn’t helping. After much grunting and shoving, she got the man on his back.

“Lights,” she called out.

Nothing happened. She did a mental eye roll. Of course, the room would be programed to respond to his voice. Instead, she scrambled, with some difficulty, to the side of the bed where the manual controls were located.

The room lightened gradually. She sat on the bed, suddenly exhausted. Mya looked down at the current-cuffs that attached them together. She didn't have a lot of experience with cuffs. Okay, none at all, really, but she did know that they required the owner’s thumb print in order to open them. Easy enough, him being unconscious and all. She searched for the thumb sensor and swore. The thumb print would've worked if, of course, they'd been remotely modern. Instead, these current-cuffs were archaic, needing a pin code to break the electrical charge that kept them together.

Mya let her head fall into her hands and then glanced at the man passed out cold beside her. Curiosity and a pang of familiarity had her studying his features more closely. The shape of his lips had her remembering someone else’s face. Someone she’d known in a different place. In a place where fondness clouded her memories and a sense of happiness curled her lips. With a finger, she brushed his hair out of his eyes and gasped.

She knew those eyes, that line of a jaw, the profile of a strong roman nose. He was a tad bit older and more than a tad bit rougher around the edges, but there was no mistake.

It was him. The man she’d been in love with since she'd been eleven years old.

About the Author:

KC Klein has lived most of her life with her head in the clouds and her nose buried in a book. She did stop reading long enough to make a home with a real life hero, her husband, for over twenty years. A mother of two children, she spends her time slaying dragons, saving princesses, and championing the belief in the happily-ever-after. An award winning author, KC Klein has written in her gritty, sci-fi Dark Future Series, and The Omega Galaxy Series, and has even branched out into hot cowboys with her Texas Fever contemporary romance series. KC loves to hear from readers and can be found desperately pounding away on her laptop in yoga pants and leopard slippers or more conveniently at www.kckleinbooks.com. Sign for her quarterly newsletter for updates on her latest releases, sales, and free giveaways.

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