Sherrilyn Kenyon
Night Pleasures
Dark Hunter novel # 2

Dear Reader,

Have you ever wanted to know what it's like to be immortal? To journey through the night stalking the evil that preys on humans? To have unlimited wealth, unlimited power? That is my existence, and it is dark and dangerous. I play hero to thousands, but am known to none. And I love every minutes of it.

Or so I thought until one night when I woke up handcuffed to my worst nightmare: a conservative woman in a button-down shirt. Or in Amanda's case, one buttoned all the way up to her chin. She's smart, sexy, witty, and wants nothing to do with the paranormal--in other words, me.

My attraction to Amanda Devereaux goes against everything I stand for. Not to mention the last time I fell in love it cost me not only my human life, but also my very soul. Yet every time I look at her, I find myself wanting to try again. Wanting to believe that love and loyalty do exist.

Even more disturbing, I find myself wondering if there's any way a woman like Amanda can love a man whose battle scars run deep, and whose heart was damaged by a betrayal so savage that he's not sure it will ever beat again.

Kyrian of Thrace
 

 

(...) "What is it with you humans that you feel this incessant need to delve into things you should leave alone?"
"I don't delve into..." her voice trailed off as his words penetrated her mind "You humans? Why would you say that?"
He didn't answer.
"Look" she said, holding up her arm to show the handcuff. "I'm stuck with you right now, and I want an answer"
"No you don't"
That did it. She hated alpha men in the worst sort of way. Those domineering, I'm-the-man-baby-let-me-drive types nauseated her. "All right, macho babe boy" she said irritably "I'm not some little ditz to bat my eyelashes at the buff stud in black leather. Don't try your he-man tactics with me. I'll have you know, in my office I'm known as the ball-breaker"
Kyrian frowned at her "Macho babe boy?" he repeated in disbelief.
There had never been a time in his extremely long life that anyone had had the mettle to stand up to him. As a mortal, he had made entire Roman armies flee in stark terror of his approach. Few men had ever dared meet him eye to eye. As a Dark-Hunter, he made legions of Daimons and Apollites quake in his presence. His name was whispered in awe and with reverence, and this woman had called him...
"Buff stud in black leather" he repeated out loud "I don't think I've ever been more insulted" (...)