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BLAZE: a gargoyle shifter rockstar romance

BLAZE: a gargoyle shifter rockstar romance

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A gargoyle shifter rockstar romance!

A computer geek turned rock star, Mike is good with numbers and his guitar. People, not so much. So when a bouncer at a goth club urges him to get a woman to safety, he’s not sure how to respond.

When he discovers she’s been bitten and her neck is bleeding, something wakes inside of Mike. He’s compelled to protect her. But why?

Main Tropes

  • Gargoyle shifter
  • Rockstar
  • Protector
  • Vampire
  • Latent powers
  • New Year's Eve party

Synopsis

A gargoyle shifter rockstar romance!

A computer geek turned rock star, Mike is good with numbers and his guitar. People, not so much. So when a bouncer at a goth club urges him to get a woman to safety, he’s not sure how to respond.

When he discovers she’s been bitten and her neck is bleeding, something wakes inside of Mike. He’s compelled to protect her. But why?

Yoga instructor Allana is horrified when she runs into Mike again, but he doesn’t recognize her. The humiliation burns. She tries to get away from him, but he insists she's in danger and must leave the club with him...

Dive into this paranormal rock romance in the Underground Encounters series. Step into a hidden world of shifters, vampires, witches, and even gargoyles. Who will capture your heart tonight?

Chapter One

The band had the crowd worked up. They played a fast,
intense cover of Days of Swine and Roses by the Thrill Kill Kult. What intrigued me more were the two sexy
burlesque dancers on the stage who showed enough skin and swayed like sirens to
capture the attention of every man in the club.

If I worked my magic, maybe I’d be going home with one of
them tonight. If I was lucky, both.

One song later, my bladder screamed for attention. I had to
piss like the proverbial racehorse.

I scanned the club to find the easiest way to maneuver to the
men’s room. Pushing in the opposite direction through the mass of people
pressing to get closer to the stage would suck. Like a wrestling match where I
was outnumbered by twenty hot, sweaty, bouncing bodies.

A better option would be the restroom backstage. We’d played
this venue a few times, an underground club called Vamps. I could zip back
there, relieve myself of the two beers threatening my bladder, and head back in
to see the rest of the show.

In my favored black boots with silver spikes and buckles, I
stood well over most of the crowd. The red and purple flashing lights on the
stage partially blinded me until I reached the back area. I didn’t see the
bouncer guarding the door to get backstage until I broke through an array of
hot alterative chicks who swayed to the music and sloshed beer from plastic
cups.

“What’s up, man?” I raised my chin, greeting him.

“Not much, Chee. Where you going?”

Nice, the bouncer recognized me since he used my stage name.
Chee Keydood, the outrageous guitarist in the Velvet Cocks.

“What’s your name again, man? My brain turns to shit when it
comes to names.”

“Byron.”

“Byron, of course.” I slapped my forehead. “Can I use the men’s
room backstage? I’ll never get through this crowd.”

“You’re good,” Byron said, opening the door. “VC is playing
here again soon, I hear.”

“That’s right. We’re starting to haunt this club like
poltergeists.”

“You bring the crowd. That makes the boss man happy.”

I walked through the doorway. “Thanks, man.”

The heavy door closed, blocking the bright stage lights and
muffling the sounds of the music. The walls back here were black and plastered
with posters for upcoming events. The narrow area was lit by one light
overhead, which seemed dim compared to the stage area. I headed for the
restroom. After I took care of business and exited, the sound of a woman
moaning distracted me.

Peering behind an amp, I spotted two women. A tall
auburn-haired one wearing a black vinyl dress with corset fastenings along her
back had her face buried in the neck of a petite blonde who was pressed against
a wall.

Whoa. It was like I’d hit the hotness lottery. I froze, mesmerized.

The blonde’s eyes were closed, and her lips parted in an expression
that spelled pure pleasure. Her sensual moans shot me to rock-hard status. Watching
them was wrong. But, I couldn’t tear my eyes away even if I’d had a crowbar.
This was better than any show out on the main floor.

The blonde cried out, firing my senses to alertness. Her
pained expression changed to a rapturous one, clearly enjoying whatever was
happening. Maybe they liked it rough, with a little pain. Nothing wrong with
that.

A massive, long-blond-haired guy wearing black swooped in
front of the women. Where the hell did he come from.

“Nike, stop,” he commanded.

The auburn-haired woman turned his way and hissed. It
sounded more feline than female. “Leave us, Danton.” She bent down over the
woman’s neck again.

“You can’t do this.” He pulled her away as if she were as
light as a mic stand. “Where’s Michel?”

This woman had drops of blood smeared on her chin and on
sharp white teeth, which I swear looked like fangs. Holy shit, fangs. I knew
this club was full of freaks, but vampire play? Jeez.

“He’s not here,” she hissed.

“Let’s call him to come get you.” He clamped her wrist and
she pouted, but didn’t fight him.

The guy scanned the area backstage and pointed at me. “You.
Take her out of here.” He nodded to the blonde. Her eyes still appeared
unfocused, dazed by lust.

“What?” I replied, stepping out from behind the amp. “I
don’t even know her.”

“Get her out of here. It’s for her safety,” he said. With
his free hand, he took the blonde by the wrist and nudged her in my direction.

The blonde’s eyes appeared dazed. When she faced me, they
widened. “You?”

After a quick glance at her, the Viking dude said, “You will
not remember any of what happened back here tonight.” He then stared at me
without blinking.

“What the hell, dude?”

He looked away and inhaled, closing his eyes and muttering
something under his breath. Staring at me again, he said, “You will forget what
you saw in this backroom.”

“Whoa, are you trying to pull some kind of mind trick on
me?” I raised my hands. “Not cool, man.”

The Viking guy continued to stare, but then tilted his head,
appraising me. The woman began to squirm out of his grasp, flashing her bloody
fangs our way as she reached for the blonde next to me.

“Take her,” he repeated. “Now!”

The urgency in his voice and the prospect of being bitten by
a madwoman who took a fascination with vampires to an extreme spurred me into
action. Forgetting about the band with their luscious half-naked dancers, I
grabbed the blonde’s hand. She was somewhat woozy and toddled on her spiky heels,
so I threw her over my shoulder to get us out of the club faster. Her scent
washed over me, clean with undertones of coconut. It tugged at the back of my
brain with familiarity.

Her wits must have begun to return as she pounded my lower
back. “Put me down.”

“Easy, princess,” I said. “I’m trying to help you.”

“I don’t need your help!”

Once we were outside in the brisk New England air, I set her
on her feet. The salty tang of the ocean tickled my nostrils even though it was
hundreds of yards away. That was weird. The scent was so strong, it was like I
was on the shore.

A light dusting of snow had fallen, and a few snowflakes
fluttered through the air, but it wasn’t dense enough to stick and would
probably be gone by morning.

“What the hell was
that about in there? You’ve got blood dripping down your neck.”

She dabbed at her neck and stared at her fingers, now
stained dark red. A snowflake went straight for her finger and we both watched
mesmerized as stark white met velvet red and was swallowed by it.

A few snowflakes fell onto her cheeks and her tiny nose and
I felt an urge to brush them away, but they melted once they met the warmth of
her flushed skin. She had delicate features and pretty blue eyes. She looked
familiar, but I couldn’t place how I knew her. Her blonde hair lay tousled on
her shoulders, set off by the black of a dress that clung to her tight little
body. My cock had settled down after the freaky incident inside, but twitched
back to life again.

“Are you two into vampire role-play or something?” I asked.

My question distracted her from her blood-covered fingers.
She still appeared dazed, but wobbled less. The fresh air and sight of blood
must have jolted her back to reality. She reached into her purse and pulled out
tissues to blot the blood.

“I’m not judging,” I clarified, in case I embarrassed her.
“We all have our things.” When she didn’t answer me, I asked, “Where do you
live?”

She glared at me with enough fire in her eyes to burn me. “Figures
you don’t remember.”

Want to find out what happens next? Keep reading BLAZE!

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