If you know me AT ALL then you know I’m a 90s girl ALL DAY. Which also means I love me a throwback. Of any kind. This time, I thought I’d throw it back to an excerpt from Dirty Blood, my first young adult paranormal romance series. Still a favorite.
If you’ve read this one, leave a comment below. If not, read on for a sneak peek…
Hands closed around me, keeping me upright. I jolted and tried to jerk away from the unexpected contact. A strangled scream escaped my lips as the hands whirled me around to face my attacker.
“Whoa, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you,” he said.
I didn’t answer. My ability to speak coherently had been momentarily lost; any sound would’ve been a scream, anyway. My breath came in uneven gasps and he waited until I got myself under control.
There was concern in his eyes but that didn’t go very far with me. I noticed vaguely that his eyes were the same exact color as his hair, a sort of bronzed brown. The color was fascinating: unlike anything I’d ever seen, and they seemed to hold some dark edge that hinted at danger, no matter how gentle they got. The rest of him wasn’t bad, either. His face matched his eyes, rugged and hard edges from his cheekbones to his jaw. When he’d spun me around, I’d grabbed out to steady myself and even now my hands still rested on his shoulders, where I’d first gripped. Underneath my fingers, and the leather of his jacket, was solid muscle.
The fact that I was actually checking him out—just moments after killing a girl—was my first clue I was in shock.
“Are you all right?” His gaze swept over me without waiting for an answer, critically inspecting the rest of my body, not unlike the once-over I’d just given him.
It dawned on me that he was trying to help, and thankfully, that dialed back my panic enough for me to find my voice. Then again, now that my brain was convinced the danger had truly passed, some switch seemed to release, giving me permission to officially freak out. “I think so,” I answered automatically, without really knowing if I was or not. I felt numb and strange inside my own skin.
“Did she bite you?”
His voice seemed to come from inside a tunnel. I blinked to try and clear the fog. “What?”
“Did she bite you?” His voice was firmer now and his hands pressed down on my shoulders, trying to keep my attention.
“No,” I answered, finding it easier to concentrate if I stared into his unwavering, gold-flecked eyes.
“Good.” A look of genuine relief passed over his features before his eyebrows arched downward with new worry. “Are you alone out here? Do you have a way home?”
“I—” I struggled to remember and kept my eyes fixed on his while I waited for the answer to come. “I was taking the bus. My ride left earlier.”
His brows curved deeper and he shot an almost imperceptible glance at the exposed body lying behind me. His hands finally dropped away from my shoulders. “Well, I’m not going to just leave you here,” he mumbled, almost to himself. He seemed to debate something a moment longer and then pulled a phone out of his pocket, hitting a single button.