About Black of Night
Author: TC Blue
Word Count: approx. 89,000
Page Count (pdf): 287
Date Published: Second edition January 17, 2017
Publisher: Bold Blue Books
File types in download zip: PDF, .mobi and .epub
Someone is killing redheads in Madison, California, and Matthew Blake wants to know who. As a vampire, he’s not supposed to get involved with human problems, but his customers at the diner where he works are upset, and when he uses his ability to access one of them, he suspects it isn’t something natural that’s hunting in his town.
Rory Coltraine steps in to manage the diner when his uncle’s illness draws him back to Madison. He feels an immediate attraction to the abrupt, borderline rude night cook. But wolves don’t mix with humans, or not sexually, anyway. That doesn’t mean he can’t make an exception.
But Matthew’s not human, and neither is Rory, and the redheads who are dying are Rory’s Clan. When they do finally give in to their mutual attraction, it changes things for both of them.
Between trying to hunt a hunter, dealing with vampires, and the burdens of their places in the world on top of it, can two very different men find time for love? Of course they can.
The last thing Matthew wanted or needed was another distraction in his life, and yet the universe, in its inestimable wisdom, had chosen to give him exactly that. He already had work to do, both at the diner and with regards to his own personal crusade, and yet he’d be damned if temptation—and distraction—hadn’t appeared right there at May’s, in the person of one pale, toned vision calling himself Rory Coltraine.
Even two weeks earlier, Matthew would have shrugged, let the kid down easy, and gone on with his life, but he couldn’t do that this time and it was starting to get to him. Rory Coltraine was his boss, damn it. It shouldn’t matter that the kid was long and lean and had those dark green eyes that always seemed to be peeking out at Matthew from behind messy red curls. And it really shouldn’t matter that call me Rory, Mr. Coltraine is my Uncle actually seemed to have a work ethic.
No, none of that should have mattered because Matthew should have been able to toss a sorry, not interested at Rory and ignore the kid afterward unless it related to work. Hell, he had more than two hundred years of experience at ignoring the men and women who’d decided to want him, and yet Rory Coltraine was different.
His boss, yes, but… Rory didn’t seem to be even a little bit wary of him, which was an odd sensation. Matthew could literally count the times that had happened on one hand and still have three fingers left.
The first had been that young woman in New York, back in 1936, and she’d been searching for death, though her religious upbringing hadn’t allowed her to cause it herself. It had been the one and only time that he’d been run out of town with an angry mob of Catholics after him.
Well, okay. He’d run to the train station and skipped out when she’d gotten so angry that he hadn’t drank her dry, but still.
Matthew didn’t get that sort of sense from Rory, though. In fact, the much younger man seemed to enjoy life more with every taunting, teasing glance-and-shimmy in Matthew’s direction as he waited tables and talked to the customers. Rory didn’t even treat the whores differently than the rest, Matthew had noticed more than once, and that was bad. Really bad. It left him with no reason to dislike the young man. Still, Rory was a distraction and Matthew didn’t have time for that just then.
He had twelve days to find whatever was hunting his town. Twelve fucking days to keep the memories from John’s head from being repeated. From haunting his restless slumber even more. Because that little girl was in his head now, her blood-drenched, innocent and terrified face frozen there, her flat, gray-sheened eyes staring sightlessly at him but still somehow begging for… something. Closure, maybe.
And he was for damned sure going to give it to her, which meant… “You ever heard of sexual harassment?” he asked Rory the next time the kid came to the window, just bopping along to some recent song about a coldhearted, snake-like lover playing on the radio in the kitchen. “I hear it’s all the rage, these days.”
Damn, Matthew felt like he’d kicked a puppy when Rory’s eyes opened wide for a second before returning to their usual state. “I… sorry,” the guy said and Matthew sighed, deep down inside. “I just… God. Okay. Sorry.”