Blood Betrayed
A Sons of Navarus Novel
Gabrielle Bisset
Release Day: Today!
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I am everything forbidden. I am a haunted creature.
I am darkness and shadow.
I am vampire.
I am everything forbidden. I am vampire.
Haunted by betrayal, Saint hides in the human world, giving his heart to no one and finding the only solace from his past in the arms of human women. Now as the Archons begin their takeover of the vampire world, this Son of Navarus has been marked for death. Summoned to defeat the Archons by the world that shunned him, Saint must face his past and Solenne, the woman he loved and lost a century ago, for only in accepting her will his body and soul finally find salvation
Excerpt
"Solenne, can you find a woman who doesn't smell like she's been deep fried in animal fat tonight?"
Closing the door to the refrigerator, Solenne turned to see Saint standing at the kitchen's center island. Shirtless. Again.
"Saint, do you own any shirts or do you need me to pick some up for you?"
Smirking, he raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Have we become a prude?"
Pushing past him, she sat down at the table and popped a grape into her mouth. "Don't you concern yourself with me, but dial back the Cro-Magnon act, can you?"
Leaning against the counter, Saint propped himself up on his elbows and rolled his eyes. "And the girl from last night?"
Solenne secretly enjoyed the thought of him repelled by Marie for any reason. Maybe he didn't drink from her. That would explain why he was being such an ass. Maybe he didn't sleep with her either.
"Marie seemed perfectly fine to me," she said casually as she picked grapes off the vine. "Maybe you just weren't her type. Maybe she has more refined tastes in men."
"Yeah, that sounds right. A woman who smells like a French fry has refined tastes. Just find me a woman who smells like a woman should."
You'll be lucky if I bring you one at all.Saint strolled past her after issuing his order as if he were the king of the castle. God, he was infuriating! If she'd ever met a man who could push her buttons more than Saint, she couldn't remember him. Wouldn't have wanted to remember him, at any rate.
It still amazed her how different he and his brother were. Teagan was smooth and so much fun to be around. And Saint? Always the darker, more sullen brother, he'd transformed into a shell of the man she'd met a hundred years ago, more detached and alone than anything else now.
But behind his gruff exterior—behind the defensiveness—that vulnerable soul she'd known then must still exist. At least she hoped it did.
It did no good to think about that now, though. She had a job to do, and at the moment that meant finding a human female to provide him with what he needed.
Even if it felt like she was betraying everything she held dear in her heart the whole time she was doing it.
Have you started reading the Sons of Navarus series by Gabrielle Bisset yet? I just read Vasilije's book not too long ago, and I was positively enthralled. These are some vampires I definitely want to get to know more! I positively can't wait to read Saint's story! How fantastic does that sound? Check out the buy links above, and you can stalk Gabrielle (one of the nicest people on the planet, by the way!) with the links just below here. Thank you so much for stopping by!
In Gabrielle's Own Words...
An avid reader of all types of books, I read my first romance even before I was a teenager.
I must have been a very precocious young lady! I still remember the book, if not the title.
It was about a Southern man during the years before the Civil War and his illicit affair with one of the slaves of a woman he "frequented". I remember vividly reading the word "manhood" often in the book, and the slave's name was Sukie. Isn't it amazing what the mind can remember?
Fast forward a couple dozen years and I'm a college history instructor. I still love history as much as that romantic young woman did, so I teach it to college students, and the romantic streak has never gone away. Now I get to do things that have to do with my other favorite
love: romance novels. 
