Paranormal Womenâs Fiction, Urban Fantasy
Date Published: January 10, 2025
Thaddeus Maguire is a vampire. He canât remember the last time he
felt young, vibrant and alive. Heâs made choices he regrets, but when
one of those mistakes comes back to haunt him, heâs forced to face his
past. The only place a hungry, beaten vampire can heal and recharge is the
best sanctuary for anyone paranormal. Eerie.
When he forces himself through a portal to his hometown, he lands at the
feet of the most beautiful flame-red haired Faerie heâs ever seen. The
moment he looks up at Tasia, heâs in love. But who could love a broken
vampire?
Tasia isnât afraid of the damaged vampire, and sheâs determined
to make him see heâs more than his mistakes.
Can they outrun his past and find a future before his biggest mistake
destroys them? Love is possible when youâve been taken by the
Faerie.
EXCERPT
âYouâre dangerous.â
âI know.â Claytonâs eyes flashed. âI also know
youâre sending them to Eerie. I canât touch them there, but I
can touch you here. Send another and Iâll fuck you up.â
âYou will?â He had no doubt. Clayton didnât care who he
hurt as long as he got what he wanted. âWhy is that?â
âBecause I made them for food. I made them so I can use them. I made
them because I want a fucking army.â Clayton stepped into
Thaddeusâs personal space. âI made them so theyâll fight
vermin like you.â
âLike me? Come now. Thatâs so harsh.â He shouldnât
bait Clayton, but he didnât care. Heâd allowed Clayton and his
band of marauders to screw with his life for years. No more. âWhat are
you going to do about it? Are you going to kick my ass again? Youâve
done it so much that itâs lost the threat.â
âOh?â Clayton punched hard into Thaddeusâs stomach. The
impact threw Thaddeus backward and wouldâve knocked the wind out of
him — if heâd have had breath in his body. Not for years.
Thaddeus winced and gritted his teeth, but grinned. âIs that all you
have?â
âNo.â Clayton withdrew a butterfly knife from his pocket and
slashed it through the air. He hacked into Thaddeusâs chest, leaving
trails of gray blood in his wake. He sliced down Thaddeusâs arm, then
across his belly. He shoved the knife into Thaddeusâs abdomen.
âHad enough?â
âIâm good. Wear yourself out.â He didnât want
another slashing, but he wasnât about to show that. The less Clayton
knew he was in pain, the better.
âYou canât protect all of them. Canât save them or even
be the good guy. Youâll never redeem yourself,â Clayton said. He
twisted the knife. âYou went down that road years ago and you
canât undo it, so donât try. Accept youâre a fucking loser
and will never be anything but.â He yanked the knife out and shook the
blood onto the asphalt as if the blood were water on his sleeve. He walked
away, then glanced over his shoulder and pointed to his eyes.
Of course, he was being watched. Thatâs how these beings worked. No
one ever got away free.
Thaddeus held his belly and managed to form a portal. Fucker. Clayton had
done a number on him this time. Itâd take a few days to recover. He
would — vampires didnât die without involving silver or crucifixes,
and Clayton was smart enough not to use either.
He couldnât protect the human world forever. The regular
worldâs vastness was more than one being could handle. Heâd need
help.
Then again, he couldnât be the only protector.
Jesus H. Christ. Where were the others? Asleep at the wheel?
Probably.
He shook his head and stepped through the portal into Eerie and quickly
closed the opening behind him. The faster he sealed the opening, the better
the chances he could get away from Clayton, even if only for now.
He sank to the ground and bowed his head. He needed to recharge. Fuck, he
should find a nice corner and hide. His skin would eventually seal over and
the damage within him would go away, but a good meal would help. Being in
Eerie didnât mean heâd find one quickly.
Heâd fought off Clayton for years, but he couldnât keep going.
Not like this. Besides, why in the name of hell did Clayton need to destroy
so much?
He lifted his head and drank in his surroundings. Heâd forgotten how
bright the town could be. After a moment, he realized heâd stepped
into the Faerie block. God love those Faeries; they lived for their
audacious colors.
Then there he was — he hated anything that wasnât black. Blend in
and donât be seen.
He looked around and his stomach churned. Not from the lack of blood, but
the sickeningly sweet location. There had to be at least three cupcake shops
on the block. Who needed so much sugar?
Not him.
âExcuse me. Do you need help?â A red haired Faerie, dressed in
a pale green dress, touched his shoulder. When he met her gaze, electricity
shot through him. His skin tingled from her touch. When she smiled, she
warmed him throughout. The odd look in her eyes confused him, though. Was
that interest or fear?
âYou do need help. Are you⊠youâre cut. Oh, Hera, please
let me help you.â She grasped him under his arms and hoisted him to
his feet. âWhat happened to you? No, I get it. I see, and Iâm
not letting you languish out here.â
âWhat are you talking about?â He didnât understand how
sheâd figured out he had a problem, other than the slashes and blood.
The way she talked, it was like she knew what was going on. Had she seen
other vampires coming to Eerie after being assaulted? How many more of them
were there? âHow do you seem to know what Iâm thinking?
Whatâs in my gut?â
âWe should talk.â She nodded to a bench, then paused. âWe
could stop here by the street, but youâre safer if you come with me to
the Hall. Weâll go to my work.â
âYouâre a cop.â He dug in his heels as best he could.
âIâm not going to the cops.â Heâd done that plenty
of other times and usually landed in jail for twenty-four hours for what was
claimed to be his own protection. Har. More like the protection of the
community.
If heâd gone mad or gone rogue, then everyone was in danger, but he
hadnât on either account. He was just fine. Hurt, but fine. Beyond
that, the cops tended to have mages and necromancers on their staff who
could read his mind. Theyâd see way more than he wanted to
share.
About the Author
Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author
of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. Sheâs been writing
since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary
and paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her
works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her
characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. Sheâs
been nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best
Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the
bestseller lists on various e-tailer sites.
When sheâs not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as
well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but
football is her sport of choice. Sheâs an active member of the Friends
of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.
Author Links
Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok:
@changelingpress
