Hey ghouls,

You’ve survived angels, hunters, and beasts… but are you ready for the vampire who’ll make you beg for ruin?

My newest dark paranormal romance, Throttle of Midnight, is now available for pre-order, just in time for Halloween!!

{Snippet:}

I’d killed men for less.

The sight of her pressed against him, his grin brushing too close to her mouth, was enough to bare every predator instinct in me. I tasted violence. In a heartbeat, I’d break his fingers one by one until he never so much as reached for her again.

But that would be foolish, now wouldn’t it? It’d been months since my last feeding. Bloodbath is what this place would become. And far too inconvenient for me to cover up…even with help.

Her pulse fluttered beneath skin I hadn’t yet touched. Heat bled into the air around her, a shimmer only my eyes could catch, rising like steam from water. It pulled at me, reckless and unguarded, like she had no idea monsters were watching.  If I narrowed my focus, I could almost taste her, threads of warmth straining through the stench of sweat, perfume, and gasoline. But her scent? That was buried, smothered by the crowd.

I didn’t know her, not even her name. But that didn’t stop the thought from slamming through me, raw and absolute. Mine.

I crushed down the thought as I stepped away from the car, swallowed by smoke and shadow, left behind like a corpse as instinct dragged me forward. Smoke curled off the track, bass rattled in my chest, and the crowd surged to meet me—hands clawing at my jacket, voices chanting my name. They pressed close, bodies thick with sweat and neon paint, and in the crush of it.

The woman was gone.

My vision snapped left, right—masks, lights, and faces I didn’t recognize. Nothing. The ache sharpened, a growl itching at the back of my throat.

A hand caught my shoulder.

“Zheras, veyth,” Kael murmured in our mother tongue, Morathi. Focus, brother.

That was how our kind communicated. Where other creatures were gifted with mind link by their goddesses, our god thought it foolish. So we branded our mother tongue, our way of communicating with not many understanding our dialect.

I turned, jaw tight. My blood brother was the opposite of me — blonde hair, lean, draped in a pale coat that made him look carved from marble, his smile a blade dulled only by amusement. Kael ran the pit from the shadows; every bet, every whisper of blood-money ran through his hands. While I drove fire into the track, he coiled in the dark, and together we kept the hunters at bay.

“She’s gone,” I said, though I hadn’t meant to. Not like he knew who the hell I was talking about.

His dark eyes glittered. “Plenty more hearts beating for you tonight. Don’t lose yourself in one.”

{End of Snippet}



Preorder now for just 99¢

Stay unholy,

Antonella Sinner

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