SAINT'S CURSE
Luke Leveraux hates seeing suspicion darken Jeremy St. James's eyes when he leaves for his monthly hunting trip, but some secrets just can't be shared.
On the surface artist Luke Leveraux has it all: money, a fantastic historical home, talent. When his boyfriend Jeremy moves in, his life should have been perfect. But Luke's hunting expeditions are a cover for something much darker, and he doesn't dare expose his lover to this unpredictable side of his life.
Art teacher Jeremy St. James has always known about his lover's hunting trips. He just expected that they would stop when he moved in with Luke. Or, at the very least, that he might be included in the monthly excursions.
On the surface artist Luke Leveraux has it all: money, a fantastic historical home, talent. When his boyfriend Jeremy moves in, his life should have been perfect. But Luke's hunting expeditions are a cover for something much darker, and he doesn't dare expose his lover to this unpredictable side of his life.
Art teacher Jeremy St. James has always known about his lover's hunting trips. He just expected that they would stop when he moved in with Luke. Or, at the very least, that he might be included in the monthly excursions.
Someone else knows Luke's secret, though. Someone determined to put an end to the situation.
"If you are looking for a romance with a unique spin
on the everyday shifter story, Saint’s Curse: Luke is definitely the book for you! ... it has an interesting, freshness to the storyline and
with the characters’ situation itself that kept me interested in the book from
the very first page to the last word." Recommended. - Reviewed By: Gabbi at Top 2 Bottom Reviews
Excerpt:
It was another of those
mornings when Luke awoke, washing blood from his hands. He stared into the
cracked sink basin and shuddered as trails of soapy bubbles and pink washed-out
blood swirled down the drain. The blinding light from the single bare bulb
above the small mirror hurt his eyes. He hated his face in that mirror more
than the blood washing through the drain.
His muscles ached, his jaw clenched. His skin went clammy and a chill wave of cold washed over him. Luke's guts heaved and he lurched to the side, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. The churning in his belly intensified and he leaned over the toilet bowl, gagging and heaving as whatever the hell he'd eaten the night before came back up. Clutching tight to the bowl as wave after wave of nausea cramped his belly, he dropped to his knees in the tiny space. The cement floor abraded his bare knees, but he didn't care.
Shards of gritty bone and bits of sinew scratched his throat on the way up, and the coppery scent of blood filled his nostrils. He retched and gagged, flushing the toilet repeatedly, until acrid stomach bile was all that came up. Sagging, he rested his head on his crossed arms on the toilet. He craved nothing more than to sleep right then and there. Despite the weakness and lingering agony the transformation caused, he had to shower.
Luke dragged himself upright, leaning against the wall, and he stretched a shaking hand past the clear plastic shower curtain to turn the hot water on. Dried blood matted his hair, caked various parts of his body. The acid odor of vomit, mingled with the coppery scent of blood, made his stomach heave, but it was empty. He had to shower, and then clean up the bathroom and the rest of the cabin. He'd never sleep if the smell of blood stayed on him, in the air around him.
His muscles ached, his jaw clenched. His skin went clammy and a chill wave of cold washed over him. Luke's guts heaved and he lurched to the side, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. The churning in his belly intensified and he leaned over the toilet bowl, gagging and heaving as whatever the hell he'd eaten the night before came back up. Clutching tight to the bowl as wave after wave of nausea cramped his belly, he dropped to his knees in the tiny space. The cement floor abraded his bare knees, but he didn't care.
Shards of gritty bone and bits of sinew scratched his throat on the way up, and the coppery scent of blood filled his nostrils. He retched and gagged, flushing the toilet repeatedly, until acrid stomach bile was all that came up. Sagging, he rested his head on his crossed arms on the toilet. He craved nothing more than to sleep right then and there. Despite the weakness and lingering agony the transformation caused, he had to shower.
Luke dragged himself upright, leaning against the wall, and he stretched a shaking hand past the clear plastic shower curtain to turn the hot water on. Dried blood matted his hair, caked various parts of his body. The acid odor of vomit, mingled with the coppery scent of blood, made his stomach heave, but it was empty. He had to shower, and then clean up the bathroom and the rest of the cabin. He'd never sleep if the smell of blood stayed on him, in the air around him.
Joyfully Jay gives Saint's Curse 4.5 stars & says "...intensely hot lovemaking scenes, and the richly detailed inner emotions of the two men and their journey together. I highly recommend Saint’s Curse by Lee Brazil. It is a beautiful story of love triumphing over the dark and well worth the read." Reviewed by Sammy at Joyfully Jay -
PICK UP A COPY TODAY AT
