By Michele Bardsley
Even vampires will be frightened of ghosts... After the dying of her husband-and her desires of motherhood-Elizabeth Bretton lower back to the kin property in damaged center, Oklahoma. Little did she recognize she may additionally surrender her lifestyles because the Silverstone heiress. yet escaping the prior isn't really that easy-especially with a vengeful ghost attempting to kill her, a 150-year-old secret to resolve, and an outrageously scorching were-jaguar named "Tez" attempting to get into her boudoir...
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Additional resources for Cross Your Heart: A Broken Heart Novel (Broken Heart Vampires)
Perfect name for you. Sounds prissy,” he said. ” He’d done enough snooping around to realize my house wasn’t too far. Yet, he hadn’t known that I lived there. I simply had to trust him. Either that, or risk being exposed to the sun. I was too weak to use my vampire speed to get home. He scooped me into his arms, and I yelped. ” I repeated, horrified. I looped one arm around his neck, and clung to the skull with my free hand. “That’s a terrible nickname. ” “Seriously. ” He ran all the way to my house.
The shadow of his concern for my own love life fluttered in my stomach. I had it good. I didn’t need a relationship to feel complete. Of course, this was not a concept Rand would understand. I squeezed his hand and let go. ” He closed the lid to the velvet box. ” I stood on the porch steps and waved good-bye. Rand drove a white Ford truck, a rather mundane vehicle for a man with such a wild nature. Soon, he would give MaryBeth the ring, and his love. I hoped she returned the favor. It was a difficult thing to do, to entrust one’s heart to someone else.
Yeah. Not so much. Evil isn’t always an outside force trying to steal or smash its way in. It isn’t always a pissed-off demon, a sociopathic mage, or a soulless Ancient. Sometimes evil is hidden within. This kind of malevolence has patience. And purpose. It’s just waiting, quietly, insidiously, to be unleashed. The Curse of Broken Heart It is said that beautiful and feisty Mary McCree drowned herself in the creek near her farm. She had loved her husband so much that his infidelity drove her mad with grief, and she could not live with his betrayal.