Title: Immortalis Carpe Noctem
Author: Katie Salidas
Series: Immortalis (Book 1)
Genre: Paranormal Romance/Vampires/Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Rising
Sign Books
Release Date: January
1 2012
Synopsis:
Explore the emotional upheaval that is the transformation
from human to vampire. Bleeding to death after brutal mugging on the campus of
UNLV, Twenty-five year old Alyssa, is rescued by the cold and aloof, vampire,
Lysander. Taking pity on her, he shares the gift-and curse-of immortality. She awakens
as a vampire and is soon devastated by harsh realities of her new way of life:
An unyielding thirst for blood as well as the loss of her friends, her
independence, and her humanity. As if having her humanity stripped away was not
enough to make life interesting, Alyssa finds out her "turning," did
not go unnoticed by the rest of undead society. Old enemies; an ancient sect of
vampire hunters, known as the Acta Sanctorum, as well as a powerful Vampire
mistress, each set plans in motion to destroy both Alyssa and Lysander. Only by
accepting her new-found immortality, seizing the night, will Alyssa hope to
survive. She and Lysander must fight together against two sets of enemies bent
on destroying them both.
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Katie Salidas is a Super Woman! Endowed with special powers
and abilities, beyond those of mortal women, She can get the munchkins off to
gymnastics, cheerleading, Girl Scouts, and swim lessons. She can put hot food on the table for dinner
while assisting with homework, baths, and bedtime… And, she still finds the
time to keep the hubby happy (nudge nudge wink wink). She can do all of this
and still have time to write.
And if you can
believe all of those lies, there is some beautiful swamp land in Florida for
sale…
Katie Salidas resides in Las Vegas, Nevada. Mother, wife,
and author, she does try to do it all, often causing sleep deprivation and many
nights passed out at the computer. Writing books is her passion, and she hopes
that her passion will bring you hours of entertainment.
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Excerpts
Excerpt 1
“You are a vampire.”
“A what?” I shrieked.
“You are a vampire, Alyssa,” he said slowly. “An immortal.”
“No! That’s not possible.” I shook my head in disbelief.
“Vampires aren’t real. They’re fiction; nothing but stories and myths.”
One of his dark eyebrows rose slightly. He cocked his head
to the side. He smirked as his eyes trailed down from my face. “Did you not
notice the mark on your neck? Do you not remember drinking my blood?” His fangs
showed as he spoke: pure white, sharp little daggers, just a slight bit longer
than the rest of his teeth. His voice carried that same arrogance I remembered
from when he talked with my attackers.
My mouth hung open. No, this isn’t possible.
Things were still fuzzy in my head, but I did remember the
blood, the liquid fire, I had been forced to drink. I’d hoped it had just been
some drug-induced dream.
Oh, my God, it was true. I drank his blood. “I’m…a …
vampire?”
“Yes.” He smiled. “Our kind are very real. And now, Alyssa,
you are one of us.”
I slumped backwards into the cushions of the couch. His
words hit me like a punch to the gut. I stared wide-eyed at the distant wall.
This was like some terrible nightmare. I didn’t want to believe what he was
telling me, but I knew he was right. There was no other way to explain what had
happened to me. No amount of hallucinogenic drugs could have explained how I
had survived the attack, why I had these markings, or the sharpness of my own
new set of fangs.
“Does that mean I’m… undead?”
“You are immortal,” Lysander said with a casual wave of his
hand. “Undead is a silly term mortals use to explain the supernatural things
they cannot possibly understand. You are no more dead than you were when you
woke up this morning. You are just, for lack of a better word, changed.”
Lysander gave me another toothy grin. His fangs were
frightening to look at. The memory of him biting me played over and over in my
mind like a video stuck on repeat.
“But you drank my blood.” My hand shot back up to cover the
wound on my neck.
“Only enough to allow the transformation.”
He reached out, grabbed my hand, and pulled it from my neck.
“Don’t touch me.” I flinched, annoyed and afraid at his
sudden gesture. I tried to pull my hand out of his grip, but he was so much
stronger than I was. He pushed my hand to my chest, forcing me to feel the
erratic thumping of my heart.
“You see,” he said calmly. “Your heart still beats.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding.
“But…how?” I relaxed my hand relaxed under his grip.
“Unlike some of your other organs, your heart is still
necessary to keep blood flowing through your body.” Lysander let go of me. “For
now, while your body is in transition, it will beat in an accelerated rhythm,
but it will eventually slow itself to a more normal pace.”
I was speechless. My mind raced, recalling books and movies,
everything I knew about vampire mythology. Bats, stakes, and garlic immediately
popped into my mind.
“I must mention that
your generation’s ideas of vampires are a bit off.” Lysander spoke with a hint
of amusement in his voice. “Many of the popular books and movies about our kind
are no more real than children’s fairytales.”
Is he reading my mind? I wondered how he seemed to say just
the right thing as I was thinking it. “So, none of the stories are true?”
“Most of the new stories you are probably familiar with are
filled with complete nonsense.”
“What about the old ones, like Dracula?”
Lysander sighed. His shoulders slumped. “Dracula is not what
I would consider an old story, but yes, a few are based on some truth, however
little it may be. There is much that is added to make us seem easier to deal
with.” His lip curled into a crooked grin. “Mortals like to think they can hurt
us. It helps them sleep at night.”
“So, you’re not afraid of crosses, then?”
Lysander shook his head. “Crosses and other holy relics are
nothing more than symbols and decorations. I hardly see why an ornamental cross
would stop me from doing anything. Furthermore, I think it’s time for the
Christians to come up with a better symbol. One that is a little less… gloomy.”
I chuckled. “Okay, what about garlic?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “What about it?”
“Isn’t garlic bad for vampires?”
“No.” He shook his head. “Why would it be? We don’t eat, so
how would it harm us?”
I nodded. “Okay… umm… stakes?”
His head tilted to the side as the corner of his lip rose up
into a teasing grin. “You can try to stab me with a piece of wood, but I doubt
it will do much more than aggravate me. We heal quite fast. Perhaps a blade
would work better.”
I shuddered, seeing his teeth again as he spoke. Is that how
I look now?
“So, knives and swords are bad?”
“Yes. It is much harder to regenerate a severed limb. And if
we are separated from our heads, it would be safe to say we would cease to
exist.”
I smiled, noting the sarcasm in Lysander’s voice. I could
tell he’d had this conversation before. He seemed to be enjoying my round of
silly questions.
“Holy water?” I blurted out.
Lysander let out a hearty laugh. “No, you won’t melt into a
pile of goo. You can throw most of that nonsense out of the window, Alyssa.”
I giggled, realizing how silly it sounded: melting into a
pile of goo after being splashed with water. Maybe this won’t be so bad.
“You see, we immortals are not as ridiculous as Hollywood
likes to portray us. Though one thing is true... we do survive off the blood of
the living.”
Excerpt 2
“You must create a very strong feeling in yourself. You have
to feel it if you are going to make your victim feel it,” Lysander continued.
That doesn’t sound too hard.
“When you have your strong feeling, you must will that
feeling to your victim, so they feel it too.”
A wicked grin crossed his face. I knew he was about to do
something to me, but I didn’t know what it was.
“Now, imagine your victim feeling this as you attack.”
He lifted his hand and brushed the side of my neck. His
touch caused my skin to pimple with gooseflesh. He looked down into my eyes; I
felt the power of his stare intensify. A gray haze filled my head, and I
suddenly felt weightless in my seat.
My heart fluttered wildly, like a humming bird buzzing in my
chest. A feeling of want took me, an overwhelming need for him to be close to
me. I swooned, falling back into the chair. I caught my balance just as
Lysander bent down eye level with me.
His hand knotted in my hair. He gently pulled my head
backwards. Hot breath grazed the sensitive skin on my neck as he drew closer;
it set my blood on fire. I suddenly needed to touch him, to feel his body
against my own. I closed my eyes, exhaled slowly, and arched my neck towards
him in anticipation. I knew now what was coming. I didn’t want to struggle. I
wanted him to bite me, to take my blood, my essence, into him.
His lips parted on my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.
A sigh escaped my lips as his teeth pierced my skin—a
momentary pinch. I whimpered but didn’t struggle against him. The sensual pull
as he drew the life out of me quickly replaced the pain.
I wanted this. I wanted to be taken—to give all of myself to
Lysander. Whatever he wanted from me, he could have. I would die in his arms if
he only asked.
As quickly as he advanced, he finished his lesson, gently
releasing me, letting me sink into the chair. Part of me wanted to cry out. I
wanted more of his kiss. My body ached for his closeness.
Lysander pulled away and sat himself down on the floor. His
eyes caught mine as I slowly regained control over my body. We sat gazing at
each other. I wondered if he had shown me some of the real feelings simmering
underneath his usually emotionless exterior.
It took a few minutes for me to completely recover from
Lysander’s advance. I sat back up on the chair, breathing slowly, trying to
calm my pounding heart.
“Now, Alyssa, I want you to try that on me. Make me feel
that same way, make me want to die in your arms.”
I don’t know that I can do that.
His gaze had been so powerful and commanding. He had taken
control of me before I knew what was happening. I didn’t know if I would be
able to match that intensity and control.
I breathed slowly and steadily, trying to center myself. I
needed to quiet my own yearning before I could gauge the emotions from
Lysander. The lingering effects of his advance on me still took center stage in
my mind. I couldn’t deny the ache, the desire to touch him.
I wanted him. I wanted to share myself with him. I wanted to
be close to him.
I slid off the chair and onto his lap, on the floor. Our
eyes met, and I again felt the warmth, the connection between us. I focused on
his beautiful eyes, calling up any power I might have in myself.
I want you, I want all of you.
Willing Lysander to feel my need, I leaned in, pressing my
lips to his. He didn’t reject me.
I want you, Lysander.
His lips parted and our tongues collided, dancing together,
playfully licking against sharp teeth as we explored one another’s mouths. We
locked in an embrace as new lovers on his dining room floor. I savored the
feeling of his lips—so soft, like two silken pillows—pressing against my own.
I willed my feelings
on him, hoping they were strong enough for him to want me as I wanted him.
Kissing wasn’t enough; I needed a taste. Thirst nagged at
me, and I needed blood to satiate it. I broke from the kiss and ran my hands
through his silky hair, gently pushing his head sideways, exposing his bare
neck as I searched for the pulsing blue vein.
He shuddered as my teeth broke through the soft flesh of his
neck. His blood; the tingling ecstasy, the warm, sweet, honey liquid flooded my
mouth, and a dizzying rush of energy washed through me.
Instinctively, as if I had been doing it my whole life, I
willed Lysander to share in this feeling.
A low, rumbling groan of pleasure came from him.
I drew his blood into me, slowly feeling my need for him
increase. I wanted to have him, all of him. I willed that thought and feeling
to Lysander and drank him in deeply.
His arms surrounded me, tightening in an embrace, pulling me
in close, silently telling me to take him. A hard knot formed in his pants. I
felt it pressing against me as I sat in his lap.
Warmth spread between my legs. I reveled in the feel as he
embraced me against him.
His heart beat in a slow, powerful rhythm, like a drum
urging me to move and dance.
I ground into his hardness, matching the beat of his calling
heart. Lysander’s chest vibrated against me as he let out another rumbling
groan of pleasure. His hands raked down my back. Pulling me in close, he forced
my body to press harder and harder against him. His hands sank lower down my
back. He squeezed and kneaded my ass as he guided the motion of my hips.
My head swam with pleasure as I drank in my fill. My body
flooded with energy. I ached with need for more. Erotic images played in my
mind. I had not had the pleasure of a man in so long. I needed to feel him
inside of me. I imagined him on top of me, taking me. I willed him to see that
image and feel that desire.
Oh, God. I need you Lysander.
I released his neck. Lysander’s hand reached up, cradling
the back of my head as his lips found mine. In one fluid motion he rolled us
over, laying me gently on the ground below him.
It was as if he had heard my thoughts. I flushed with
excitement, looking up into his eyes.
Flames of passion burned brightly in the swirling twilight.
Lysander blinked a few times. His lusty gaze suddenly
returned to a flat, emotionless expression as if someone had flicked on a light
switch.
I silently cried out, What happened?
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