Blood Secrets by Elizabeth Morgan


Title: Blood Secrets
Series: Blood Series (Book #2)
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Self Published
Release Date: April 22 2016
Edition/Formats It Will Be Available In: eBook & Print
Blurb/Synopsis:
When your life is messed up to begin with, how much worse can it really get?
Heather Ryan's life has never been simple. The latest in a long line of descendants who have made it their mission to hunt down and slay the Ancient Vampire, Marko Pavel, she is also the first born Infected. Up until recently, the biggest downside to living with the Vampyrric Virus was simply that she craved blood, but after receiving a DVD from her deceased Grandmother Sofia and being kidnapped with friend and so called guardian Werewolf, Brendan Daniels, she quickly discovers that she is also the inspiration behind the Vampires’ attempt to create a whole new breed of super monsters—Hybrids.
The truth comes at a cost, but how much does one have to sacrifice to gain success?
Following the breadcrumbs left by her psychic Grandmother, Heather and Brendan find themselves in new territory. Venice is where Heather hopes to find Marie, the second Bloodling of Marko, along with Brendan's three taken Pack members. But an old Peace Pact between the Italian Pack and the Colony means they are left hunting blind, and due to the Italian Alpha's reluctance to believe their story of kidnap and experimentation on Loup-Garous, time is running out. So when help comes from an unlikely source, they have no choice but to accept.
All families have secrets, but blood can't lie.
Caught up in an intricate and complicated scheme spun by the one she trusts the most and the friend of her enemy, Heather soon discovers that she is the pawn in a plan she would never have been able to conceive. But how many of her new allies were in on the game, to begin with?

****CONTENT WARNING****
This title contains explicit language, violence, and some scenes of a sexual nature.
Book Links
ARe
Excerpt R rated
The walkway appeared desolate... Darkness almost shrouded the passage, but the streetlights of Venice, which stretched across the seemingly black water of the Grand Canal, cast slithers of light through the tall stone arches. A gust of wind ran past me and I shivered, the small tremble causing drops of water to fly from my soaked clothing and stain the grey slabs beneath me.
A howl pierced the night sky, then another and another; a unison of agonizing cries echoing around the maze of buildings that made Central Venice so unique.
To say that Ken doll was going to be pissed that I had took off was an understatement, but I couldn’t lose this chance. I wasn’t going to lose Marie.
Pulling my sword from its sheath, I made my way towards the intricate iron gates which were open, held in place by chains that locked into two hoops that protruded from the grey bricks.
Moving past the rough metal, I peered into the square, outer foyer to find the main double doors to the nest stood wide open in invitation, giving me the perfect view of the long, quiet hallway. I inhaled deeply. The stench of ancient earth polluted the air.
With a steadying breath, I stepped through the doorway and past the two round pillars. Three large iron lanterns hung from the ceiling. A mosaic of stained glass caging the bulbs inside, casting fragments of multi-coloured light across the cream walls. The glow from them curled around the sculptures lining the walls, the shadows of their perfect forms stretched across the blank canvas, disfiguring as I moved past them.
My heart thundered in my chest, so loud that I was pretty damn sure it was drowning out the squelch of water in my boots as I tread lightly and swiftly across the coral and ivory diamond tiles. Droplets of water continued to travel down my skin and beneath my clothes, which already clung to me like a second skin. My curls were a drenched mess. Stray strands had escaped the bun I had shoved my hair in earlier, the wet chunks sticking to my face and neck.
I walked past the two sets of closed double doors which sat across from each other. My focus strayed to the enclosed, dimly lit stairwell on my right.... It was now blocked off by an iron gate similar to the one protecting the front entrance. Another set of doors sat closed to my left, but it was the archway at the end of the hallway that I was drawn to—the only other doors that lay wide open in invitation, and despite the light in the chamber being dim, I knew she was in there, waiting for me.
Oxygen burned my lungs. A stitch had claimed my right side, and the scent of blood from my weeping wounds had my senses peaking. Only this task remains.
Tightening my grip on the hilt of my sword, I moved into the large chamber. No furniture filled the space. All the curtains were drawn. The dark, thick material ran the length of the wall, indicating that the windows stood from ceiling to floor. The walls were painted in panels of patterns so fine, but I couldn’t make out the details. Not that the particulars of the interior of a nest ever really mattered. Although, this was by far the fanciest I had been in. My feet faltered as my gaze landed on him.
He stood like a statue in the centre of the room, his unseeing eyes, like white, misted glass, vacant and icy, focused on me. He could see me. He could see right through me....
The air caught in my lungs as pain seared through my lower back. I lurched, a scream lodged in my throat.
“You should have run while you had the chance.”
His voice sent a chill sweeping across my already frozen flesh.
I spun, sword loose in my grip, swiping at air. A delayed reaction, which only caused pain to ripple up my spine. Heat pulsed at the base of my back, a seeping warmth drawing the material of my damp T-shirt. The scent of my blood hit me once more. Shit.
“Brave of you to come back,” a female chortled.
Wiping the back of my hand across my eyes, I looked round the room. There was nowhere for her to hide but the shadows which claimed the corners. But why was she even hiding?
“What’s the matter, Marie? Are you afraid to face me one-on-one?” I straightened, gritting my teeth at the splintering pain stretching from my head to my toes. “I expected more from a first generation Leech, more from Marko’s Bloodling than peak-a-boo-attack.”
“You flatter yourself,” he said calmly.
I did. There was no reason for her to hide from me. Perhaps she wasn’t. Perhaps, this was just a game of cat and mouse to her, and she wanted to draw it out for as long as possible. Despite the fact she should be running for her wretched immortal life, despite the fact that she was no longer safe in her own territory, she hadn’t run. She was either egotistical or foolish, or maybe just clueless. One way or another, she was going to die before the sun rose.
“Face me, Marie,” I growled, tightening the grip on my sword. “Your son at least had the balls to—”
The air left my lungs as a weight barrelled into me.
In the back of my mind, I registered my sword slipping from my hand. A fact that was confirmed as the sound of metal clattering against marble echoed throughout the room. My head made impact with the wall. Pain exploded at the back of my skull. Stars burst behind my eyelids in a rush of glittering colours. I crumpled to the floor.
“Never speak of my son, puttana disgustosa.”
The words were snarled, but seemed distant due to the pounding in my ears. My eyes snapped open as blood coated my tongue. I rolled onto my side, gagging, wanting so badly to throw up, and yet, I had the urge to gulp, to swallow; to drink, and it was so damn strong.
“Pathetic.”
The word hammered at my temples, causing the pain that already cradled my head to stab sharper.
Pathetic. Perhaps I was pathetic. Perhaps I had been fooling myself all these years for clinging on to humanity when every primal instinct inside me hungered for blood, even my own. I was sick. I was no better than the monsters I killed, but I knew that already... Didn’t I?
“...you are not human, Heather. You have been lying to yourself. Thinking you can survive this way, lead a ‘normal life’ when you were born to be so much more...”
His words echoed in my mind, taunting me even though he stood quietly at the centre of the room.
“It is almost laughable, the idea that you thought you could stop us, destroy Marko after all those before you have failed.”
Breathing fast and hard, I twisted onto my knees. My arms trembled as I tried to push myself up.
“Where is he?” I bit the words out.
Marie’s foot connected with my abdomen. A crunch met my ears. Another scream lodged in my throat. Fists clenched, I curled myself into a ball, sucking in sharp breaths through my teeth as I tried to fight past the pain pulsing inside me.
“Where. Is. Marko?” The words were broken and strained as I tried to lift my head to look at her.
Marie grabbed me by my hair. A strangled cry burst from my lips as she dragged me up, sliding me against the wall. Nausea exploded in my stomach. Numbness claimed my cheeks and neck. I kicked helplessly. My legs were deadweight, but pins and needles shot through my calves each time my boots scuffed against the brick. I couldn’t feel my fingertips as I wrapped my hands round her wrist, feebly trying to break her iron grip.
She grabbed me by the throat with her free hand and pinned me high above her head. My hands dropped to the arm now holding me against the cold wall. My eyes widened as she stepped closer, into the soft stream of light coming through the doorway. If I could have breathed, I would have stopped at the sight of her angular, almost amphibian features.
Sweet Jesus, so this is what a first generation Vampire in full form looks like?
Like all transformed Vampires, her head was void of hair, but the bones beneath her face were moving. Her skin looked pasty and brittle as it stretched across the sharp and unnatural angles of her jaw and cheek bones. Her nose had caved into her skull, but her nostrils were large and wide, bat-like. And her eyes—deep crimson, so fucking inhuman, so lifeless I might have shivered if I had the strength to. The skin wriggled across her face... She was still shifting?
How much uglier can she get?
I jolted as something razor-sharp punched into my gut. Blood flooded my mouth, leaking from the corners as I fought to breathe. Tears filled my eyes as I glanced down, noting her free hand had pushed against my abdomen, her fingers embedded deep inside me.
“In the last place you, or any of your pathetic family, would ever think to look for him.”
Reality slowed down, or perhaps it was my heartbeat. Perhaps I was blacking out, but despite the pins and needles that tingled from my fingers straight down to my toes, the numbness that claimed every part of my body, despite the only feelings I had left being pain as she squeezed every breath of air from me, despite that, at this very moment, the only thing I should have been thinking about was that I was about to die, that I had failed my family, my grandmother... Brendan... a bulb pinged in my mind, and I had never seen the light so fucking clearly.
Her tongue slithered towards me, flicking across the blood staining my lips. She shuddered. “You should not have murdered my son.”
A howl echoed throughout the building. Hope fluttered in my struggling heart.
“It is time to leave.”
His voice jolted me, so innocent and calm, completely un-fazed by the scene playing out before him.
I lurched as she pulled her hand from inside me. Through my blurred gaze, I caught sight of the length of her now blood-stained talons as she brought her fingers to my face.
“Die knowing that you have failed, like the rest of your feeble family.”
Bones cracked and her jaw dislocated, her mouth widened, as her fangs extended—
A mountain of black fur barrelled into her.
I landed on the floor. My body screamed in protest, but no sound left me. I couldn’t feel my fingers or toes. Hell, I couldn’t feel my body. Just the pain that resided in every point she had struck.
Dark shadows moved around the room, accompanied by growls and ear-splintering wails.
Another thundering howl rang through the building. I moved my focus to the doorway and found a copper-blond Werewolf standing in the frame. His golden gaze landed on me, widening.
My eyes fluttered, and the next thing I knew, he was beside me.
“I know where he is,” I rasped as Brendan’s flushed, sweat-slicked face filled my vision.
“Shit. Heather?” Brendan’s hands fell to my stomach.
Searing pain exploded outward, stretching to my head and toes. An inhuman cry gurgled in my throat, the action causing more blood to ooze from my mouth.
“Christ.” Tears threatened to emerge in his emerald gaze. His hands moved to my face. “Why—What?” His jaw was tense. A growl vibrated in his throat. “God damn it, Heather. Why couldn’t you have fucking waited?”
A smile touched my lips. “Because, silly Wolf—” I closed my eyes. My brain felt as though it were churning in my skull, “—I now know where Marko is.”
Darkness took me.

Author Information
Elizabeth Morgan is a multi-published author of urban fantasy, paranormal, erotic horror, f/f, and contemporary; all with a degree of romance, a dose of action and a hit of sarcasm, sizzle or blood, but you can be sure that no matter what the genre, Elizabeth always manages to give a unique and often humorous spin to her stories.
Like her tagline says; A pick ‘n’ mix genre author. “I’m not greedy. I just like variety.”
And that she does, author of erotic ménage horror, Creak, paranormal erotic horror and UK, US & Australian Amazon best seller (Gay/Lesbian, Fiction), On the Rocks, erotic romance, US, UK & Spanish Amazon bestseller (Erotica Short Story) Truth or Dare? And sweet contemporary romance, UK & US Amazon bestseller (British/Drama & Plays) Stepping Stones.

She also has her hand in self-publishing. Look out for more information on her upcoming releases at her website: www.e-morgan.com
Away from the computer, Elizabeth can be found in the garden trying hard not to kill her plants, dancing around her little cottage with the radio on while she cleans, watching movies or good television programmes – Dr Who? Atlantis? The Musketeers? Heck, yes! – Or curled up with her two cats reading a book.
For more information on Elizabeth's work, published and upcoming, head on over to her site:
Author Links









Other Works by Elizabeth Morgan
She-Wolf (Prequel) Free Download
(On Hold until 2017)
The Collector #1
The Keeper #2
The Guardian #3
The Deliverer #4
Standalone Titles
Razel Dazzle Free Download



Title: Cranberry Blood
Author: Elizabeth Morgan
Series: Blood Series (Book #1)
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Self Published
Release Date: Aug 25 2014
Edition/Formats It Will Be Available In: eBook & Print
Blurb/Synopsis:
Killing Vampires? Easy.
Tracking someone? Simple.
Helping, and protecting a Vampire slayer . . . . Bloody hard work!
Thirteen years ago, Brendan Daniels made a deal with a psychic. In exchange for information on the whereabouts of a Rogue Werewolf, he promised to help and protect Sofia's granddaughter. Unfortunately, he had no idea what he was letting himself, or his Pack, in for.
Nothing about Heather is simple, from her weird dietary needs to her life’s mission. The girl can handle herself, but the promise to protect her soon becomes a need, and one he can't fully understand.
Vampire Slayer.
Born Infected.
Addicted to blood . . . but not by choice.
Heather Ryan is the current Slayer in a long family line. Like all before her, she has spent her life searching for her ancestor, Marko Pavel, the Vampire her family has sworn to kill. If that isn't complicated enough, she is also a born "Infected", and to keep her from becoming insane or giving in to her darker side, she is on a very strict diet.
Now that her Grandmother Sofia has passed, it is up to Heather to take the family legacy into her own hands. Or at least, it would have been...if her Grandmother hadn't sent a Werewolf to help her.
What is the irritating Brendan supposed to help her with? Sofia never told either of them. Luckily, it doesn't take long for Heather and Brendan to find out that the Vampires have big plans, and that the Leeches have waited a long time for them both.

****CONTENT WARNING****
This title contains explicit language, violence, and some scenes of a sexual nature.
Book Links

Excerpt
Lights spluttered above me, fighting with some relentless attempt to come back on, even though the battle appeared hopeless.
It is hopeless. I’m trapped.
Fresh waves of pain rippled around my skull and down my spine as I fought to see everything around me, but thick grey smoke flooded the corridors. It crawled down my throat; the taste and feel of ash coated my tongue, making me gag. The need to cough kept grabbing me while ash blocked my nose and stung my watering eyes. My head throbbed, pressure in my skull tightened, as I fought hard to keep my eyes open.
There has to be a way out.
My eyesight had clouded from the smoke; my nostrils burned with it.
The awareness under my skin blazed as hot as the fire that currently threatened to bring the entire structure down on my head, but I had to walk down here; every impulse in my body forced me forward. I had no idea what I hoped to find, but I knew in my gut that I could get out.
My right hand hit the uneven wall before me; my heart sank as I stood before the dead end.
My lungs burned as the smoke continued to consume my body.
I wasn’t supposed to die down here.


Title: She Wolf
Author: Elizabeth Morgan
Series: Blood Series (Prequel)
Genre: Paranormal/Erotic Romance
Publisher: Self Published
Release Date: Aug 25 2014
Edition/Formats It Will Be Available In: eBook & Print
Blurb/Synopsis:
Dealing with the Rogue Werewolves terrorizing his Pack? Simple.
Trying to convince his mate he does want to be with her? Bloody impossible.
Owen MacLaren is the Alpha's son and the Pack's second, and he has never been one to let anything get to him. So when a bunch of Rogues begin purposely dumping mutilated bodies around the Pack Keep, he is more than ready to deal with the Werewolves responsible.
But one night off and a trip to a local strip joint for a colleague's stag night changes things, and Owen soon discovers he isn't immune to everything . . . .
Being an independent Loup and travelling the world? Easy.
Having to come home and face the Werewolf who broke her young heart? Challenging.
After five years away, Clare Walker finds herself back home in Scotland, working in a strip club. The tips are decent, and she gets to dance, but it isn't a place she thought she would ever be, let alone Owen, her Pack second and the mate she has always desired.
Although Owen is determined to prove he wants to be with Clare, things can't go smoothly between them, not when they have past issues to sort out and a bunch of unusual 'Rogues' to deal with.
****CONTENT WARNING****
This title contains explicit language, violence, and graphic sex. Not suitable for anyone under the age of 18.
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