Drawing Bloodlines

The Princeton Allegiant Series, Book One

4.2.19!

Drawing Bloodlines, a Sexy Paranormal Romance will be released by  Soul Mate Publishing!

He will survive on her blood, if her body doesn’t destroy him first.

Things are about to heat up in a sleepy university town when a single mother falls in love with a vampire…only he’s being forced to mate with a ruthless vamp who kept him as a sex slave one hundred years ago.

Dr. Alexander Manning is exposed. While drawing blood from his beautiful patient, he’s so captivated by her, he takes too much and drinks it immediately. Only she catches him and passes out.  Alex knows he must report what happened to his allegiant’s commander. But should he deal with her himself?

When he tracks her down to read her thoughts and see if he’s in danger, he’s shocked to discover…she wants him as much as he wants her. Now he’s faced with the agonizing decision to take her as his lover, even if it means breaking the rules and risking his entire allegiant’s secrets.

Elizabeth hasn’t dated anyone since her divorce and when she finds out the man she’s so drawn to is a vampire, she has to make a choice. Play it safe, deny how she feels or take a risk, where the reward is night after night of blinding ecstasy.

But Alex’s past catches up to him when he’s chosen by the new Philadelphia Commander to be her mate. He must choose…go obediently into the arms of the bitch who blackmailed him into years of sex or…fight back. Either with some hidden magical powers he’s been keeping a secret or with a little science experiment a colleague is cooking up in a private research facility.

Book 2- Guarding Bloodlines will be released 10.2.19

Book 3- Matching Bloodlines is a WIP

 

Here’s a little bite of Drawing Bloodlines:

@2018 Deborah Garland (unedited)

I’m on my back and my legs are spread—cold steel sliding into me.

If this were any other Friday, the weekend would be getting off to a fantastic start. But I’m at the OBGYN and it’s the only thing to slide into my lonely vi-jay-jay since the last appointment. This is just…sad.

“How are your classes this year, Elizabeth?” Sarah, the nurse practitioner asks me. I’m not planning on having children again any time soon so there’s no need to waste one of the obstetricians’ time.

“Great. They finally gave me AP classes.” After years of teaching ninth grade math, and losing my mind trying to calm down poorly prepared teenagers with raging hormones, the head of my department moved me to the advanced placement roster. Plus, the former teacher got knocked up with her fifth kid and called it quits.

I’d stay there forever except I’ve been slowly gathering up master’s credits to get into the PhD program at Princeton University so I can teach college one day.

“And how is Annie doing?” Sarah likes to make small talk while her head is between my legs.

“She’s great.” My seven-year-old daughter and I moved to Princeton after my marine husband divorced me and I had to get off the military base. During our marriage, we had moved around so much, the only place I’d ever considered home was Princeton, New Jersey.

I grew up in the sleepy university town and since my father still lives here, it made sense to come back. He’s a math teacher as well. And while he wasn’t much of a father when I was growing up, he’s been a wonderful grandfather. My mom died from skin-cancer complications, and after delivering me, she couldn’t have any more children.

Sarah snaps off her gloves and rolls her way over to the small desk, jutting out from the wall. She taps into the computer keyboard and fingers through my chart. “We haven’t done a blood panel on you in a few years.” Her eyebrows rise, revealing wrinkled pleats of skin on her forehead.

“Oh.” Swinging my legs across the exam table, I ask, “Is there anything you’re looking for particularly?”

“It’s good to periodically see where your FSH levels are .”

“FSH?”

“Follicle Stimulating Hormones,” she answers as if that would clue me in more. When I don’t say anything, she spills, “The number tells us if you’re getting close to menopause.”

Menopause! I had hoped since I wasn’t even forty the dreaded M-word wouldn’t come up. It makes my single status all the more tragic. “Okay.”

“Great. Get dressed. I’ll send someone in to draw blood.” She tosses me a sneaky smile. “Our usual girl is out sick today. But I don’t think you’ll mind the replacement the hospital sent us.”

Mind about what? Slipping off the gown sends a chill through me. My body covered in gooseflesh demands more of my attention as I quicken the task of getting dressed. My skirt is on and my blouse is partially buttoned when there’s a knock on the door. “Yeah.”

The shadow of a person on the other side of the privacy curtain darkens my small space. Men’s dress shoes tap the floor patiently.

“I’ll be right there.” My fingers curl around the edge of the curtain to get a peek. My eyes lock on a tall man with broad shoulders. A full head of golden blond hair is swept off his forehead. He has high cheekbones and a perfect square jaw. Yu-um. But the white lab coat means he probably has the wrong room. I assumed Sarah was preparing me for a cute male nurse, but this man is a doctor.

And he’s the most Goddamn gorgeous man I’ve ever laid eyes on.

“Take your time.” His voice is deep and his lips are so full, my tongue instinctively slips out to lick my own—to which an eyebrow is raised at me.

“I’m waiting for a nurse,” I say. “You must have the wrong—”

He looks down at my chart. “Elizabeth Lock…”

“Lockspier.”

“Lockspier.” He repeats my last name and raises those intensely focused black eyes back up to meet mine. “I’m here to draw your blood.”

“Really? Okay.” I lower my head in disbelief and shove my foot into a shoe before hopping out from behind the curtain.

“Have a seat.” He points to the waiting chair. “I’m Dr. Manning, by the way.” Instead of holding out his hand for me to shake, he gives me a slow and thorough once-over. The look brings my skirt and hair fussing to a complete halt. Most men today sneak those looks at a woman. Not this guy.

 

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