His Immortal Embrace
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Оглавление
Lynsay Sands. His Immortal Embrace
HIS IMMORTAL HUNGER
His Immortal EMBRACE. Hannah Howell. Lynsay Sands. Sara Blayne. Kate Huntington
CONTENTS
THE YEARNING
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
BITTEN
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
STRANGER IN THE NIGHT
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
THE AWAKENING
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Отрывок из книги
He tensed as he heard someone slip into his room. The fact that the scent he picked up was Sophie’s did not ease his tension at all. This was a very bad time for her to come to his bedchamber. He listened to her take a few hesitant steps toward him, then stop. Slowly, he took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he savored her scent.
Another scent tantalized him, and he grew so tense his muscles ached as he opened his eyes to stare blindly out the window. Sophie smelled of desire. Alpin hastily finished his drink, but it satisfied only one hunger. There was another now raging inside of him, fed by the hint of feminine musk. He breathed it in, opening his mouth slightly to enhance his ability, and the blood began to pound in his veins.
.....
And now that she understood the curse Rona had set upon the MacCordys, understood the “sting in its tail,” as Morvyn called it, Sophie knew her fate was to be the same as Aunt Claire’s, as that of all the lonely, heartbroken spirits still trapped within Werstane. Her own mother had suffered the sting of their ancestor’s malice, but had let that despair conquer her, hurling herself into the sea rather than spend one more day in suffering. As Sophie faced her twentieth birthday, she was surprised she had not yet suffered the same fate, but love had not yet touched her. Most people considered her a spinster, an object of pity, but she was beginning to think she was very lucky indeed.
Sophie finished her drink, stood up, and set the tankard on the mantel. She would not join the long line of heartbroken Galt women. If it took her the rest of her life, she would end the torment her vindictive ancestor had inflicted upon so many innocent people. If it was God’s wish that the Galt women should suffer for Rona’s crime, surely four hundred and thirty-five years of misery was penance enough. Perhaps He wanted a Galt woman to put right what a Galt woman had made so wrong. It was her duty to try. And, she mused, as she crawled into bed, there was only one proper place to start—Nochdaidh.
.....