Cover Models - Book One
Life changed for Deanna Brooks the night she attended a book signing for her aunt’s best-selling paranormal romance series. There she met Burney ‘The Cover God’ Sheridan. The model for the series’ fictional vampire hero, Burn is beyond handsome and has an overabundance of Irish charm. He’s too good to be true.
Burn Sheridan, a man with scores of past lives, has a secret: he is a vampire. Meeting Deanna is agony because for the first time in over two hundred years, Burn experiences the rarest of vampiric needs—the mate-of-the-soul connection. Keeping people at a distance has been Burn's existence for centuries, but Deanna makes his pledge of staying detached impossible.
Many obstacles lie ahead and the biggest of all may be Burn himself. Can Deanna and Burn overcome them and find lasting love?
Genre: Paranormal, contemporary, erotic romance, vampires
Heat level: 4
Word count – 21k
Cover art by Fantasia Frog Designs
Deanna tapped her sandaled foot in annoyance. She didn’t want to bother with the guy, but Janice insisted, bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement as they advanced toward the table.
As they moved closer, the model’s masculinity became more potent. She could hear the slight lilt to his deep voice as he answered the ladies questions. His eyes crinkled sexily when he smiled. His teeth were perfectly shaped and a brilliant white.
Deanna glanced at her aunt’s table a few times, hoping to catch her eye, but Carol was busy working her crowd. While Deanna enjoyed an historical romance she’d never quite taken to the paranormal genre. Aunt Carol always mailed her advance copies, but she usually wound up giving them to Janice. She should’ve given the books a chance. Judging from the crowd, paranormal romance seemed popular. There was a steady stream of women coming and going.
Janice clutched her arm. “We’re next!”
Oh, yippie-friggin’-yay. Janice stood next to Burn. Damn, he is tall. A few inches under six-six, anyway, Deanna observed. Janice babbled nonsensical chatter while the model smiled, nodded, and signed a couple of her paperbacks.
Janice put her arm around the man’s trim waist. “Take our picture, Dean!”
Deanna raised the camera and looked up just as Burn’s searing gaze swept over her like a roll of white heat. God, his eyes had turned from black to silver again. Those special magic contacts were amazing. Holding out the camera, she clicked and hoped Janice was in the frame because she couldn’t tear her eyes away from “Sizzle” or “Burn” or whatever his name was. Deanna clicked another for good measure.
Janice took the camera and shoved her toward the leather-clad hunk. Her mouth went dry, and her insides fluttered. For God’s sake, he was only a model. Why was she so flustered?
She stepped next to him and glanced up. Oh hell yeah, very tall. He towered over her by at least a foot. His arm stretched out to clasp her shoulder, and he brought her in tight against his side. Solid, rock-hard muscle. Her insides began to churn in arousal.
“What’s your name, darlin’?”
She couldn’t speak. Deanna was like Ralphie in A Christmas Story, sitting on Santa’s lap. Duh…uh. No words came out.
“Her name is Deanna, but I call her Dean!” Janice sang out.
Burn gently squeezed her shoulder, and it almost brought her to her knees, his touch was so intoxicating.
“Dean. I like that,” he purred.
Dear God. His voice, was he Irish? The tone sounded low, sexy, and rumbled deep in his impressive chest, sending shock waves through her entire body.
Then the unthinkable happened. A wash of scent covered her. Deanna could taste it in her mouth, and feel it on her skin. Was the overpowering aroma his cologne? Some guys liked to drown themselves with those tacky body sprays. Burn must have marinated himself in the swill.
Deanna wheezed and her throat closed up. Her hand clasped her throat. Trying to breathe through her nose was unsuccessful. The only thing she smelled was his spicy, musky, overpowering scent. Her eyes watered and her body trembled furiously.
“Are you all right, love?”
Deanna fell to her knees, fighting for every breath. Strong arms encircled her and carried her from the sales floor through to a door marked Staff Only.
Karyn lives in a small town in the western corner of Ontario, Canada. She wiles away her spare time writing and reading romance while drinking copious amounts of Earl Grey tea. Tortured heroes are a favorite. A multi-published author with a few best-sellers under her belt, Karyn loves to write in different genres and time periods.
As long as she can avoid being hit by a runaway moose in her wilderness paradise, she assumes everything is golden.
Karyn’s been happily married for a long time to her own hero. His encouragement keeps her moving forward.