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Annotation
On a trip to England, physicist Portia Harding is stalked by a heart-stoppingly handsome maniac. Theondre North is a nephilim—the son of a fallen angel—who needs Portia's help to change his fate. Problem is, Portia's down-to-earth attitude frustrates beings from both heavenly and hellish realms—and gets Theo turned into a vampire. But at least he has Portia to satisfy his newfound hungers-and possibly save his soul.
The Last Of The Red-Hot Vampires
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
The Last Of The Red-Hot Vampires
The
Katie MacAlister
Acknowledgments
The usual group of suspects are in line for my fervent appreciation for their support and many lattes provided during the writing of this book: my darling agent, Michelle Grajkowski (who, every book, tries to get me to include a character named Honey Grajkowski); my editor, Laura Cifelli (who makes me laugh with her praise over my ability to put the correct end quotes after an em dash); and my husband, Michael (the one responsible for bringing me all the lattes).
In addition to the Gang of Three, I owe much gratitude and thanks to all the readers who enjoy my books, even the ones who demand that I write faster. And for those readers who are concerned about the title of this book—no, it won't be the last of my vampire romances.
"Oh, look, a crop circle. Let's stop and see if we will be abducted by aliens. "
"Why on earth would you want to be abducted by aliens? From what I hear, they're all about strange implants and anal probes. Neither is my idea of fun. "
Sarah glared at me as we whipped past a sign noting that tours of a local farm famous for its crop circle were available for a modest fee. "You have the soul of a nihilist. "
"On the contrary; I don't believe in either assassination or terrorism. Is this the turn we need?"
A map rustled next to me as my friend consulted the driving directions we'd received from a local travel company. "I don't think so.
The directions say the town is called Newton Poppleford. There should be a bridge we go across. And you know full well that's not the sort of nihilism I meant. ""Ah. Newton Poppleford is another kilometer," I answered, nodding to a small sign partially hidden by a dense shrub. "So you're saying I have the soul of a disbeliever?"
"Yes, I am. It's all that science stuff you do. "
I couldn't help but smile at Sarah's comment. "You make it sound like being a physicist is tantamount to being a crack addict. "
"It's not quite that bad, but it's definitely rotting your mind. "
"Oh, come on, that's being a bit extreme. " I avoided a startled rabbit in the narrow country road, and spotted a humpbacked stone bridge in the distance. No doubt that was the exit we needed to get to the tiny little village that was Sarah's destination.
