Product Description

Acclaimed author Kresley Cole introduces a sizzling new series with this tale of a fierce werewolf and a bewitching vampire -- unlikely soul mates whose passion will test the boundaries of life and death.

A mythic warrior who'll stop at nothing to possess her . . .

After enduring years of torture from the vampire horde, Lachlain MacRieve, leader of the Lykae Clan, is enraged to find the predestined mate he's waited millennia for is a vampire. Or partly one. This Emmaline is a small, ethereal half Valkyrie/half vampire, who somehow begins to soothe the fury burning within him.

A vampire captured by her wildest fantasy . . .

Sheltered Emmaline Troy finally sets out to uncover the truth about her deceased parents -- until a powerful Lykae claims her as his mate and forces her back to his ancestral Scottish castle. There, her fear of the Lykae -- and their notorious dark desires -- ebbs as he begins a slow, wicked seduction to sate her own dark cravings.

An all-consuming desire . . .

Yet when an ancient evil from her past resurfaces, will their desire deepen into a love that can bring a proud warrior to his knees and turn a gentle beauty into the fighter she was born to be?

Includes an excerpt from Kresley Cole's next romance novel, No Rest for the Wicked.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #1540 in Books
• Published on: 2006-03-28
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 384 pages

Review
"Not just another romantic read . . . this is a powerful experience!" -- Reader to Reader Reviews

"Rich mythology, a fresh approach, and excellent writing make this unique vampire tale superb." -- Fresh Fiction

"Unquestionably an awe-inspiring romance!" -- The Best Reviews

. . . intense action, devilishly passionate sex and fascinating characters . . . hot stuff! -- Romantic Times Magazine, 4 1/2 STARS TOP PICK!

Review
"A unique romance -- it truly stands on its own!"-- Sherrilyn Kenyon, New York Times bestselling author

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Chapter 1

On an island in the Seine, against the nighttime backdrop of an ageless cathedral, the denizens of Paris came out to play. Emmaline Troy wound around fire-eaters, pickpockets, and chanteurs de rue. She meandered through the tribes of black-clad Goths who swarmed Notre Dame like it was the Gothic mother ship calling them home. And still she attracted attention.

The human males she passed turned their heads slowly to regard her, frowns in place, sensing something, but unsure. Probably some genetic memory from long ago that signaled her as their wildest fantasy or their darkest nightmare.

Emma was neither.

She was a co-ed -- a recent Tulane grad -- alone in Paris and hungry. Weary from another failed search for blood, she sank onto a rustic bench beneath a chestnut tree, eyes riveted to a waitress drawing espresso at a café. If only blood poured so easily, Emma thought. Yes, if it came warm and rich from a bottomless tap, then her stomach wouldn't be clenched in hunger at the mere idea.

Starving in Paris. And friendless. Was there ever such a predicament?

Couples strolling hand in hand along the gravel walk seemed to mock her loneliness. Was it just her, or did lovers look more adoringly at each other in this city? Especially in the springtime. Die, bastards.

She sighed. It wasn't their fault that they were bastards who should die.

She'd been spurred to enter this fray by the prospect of her echoing hotel room and the idea that she might find another blood pusher in the City of Light. Her former hookup had gone south -- literally -- fleeing Paris for Ibiza. He'd given little explanation for abandoning his job, saying only that with the "arrival of the risen king," some "serious epic shit" was brewing in "gay Paree." Whatever that meant.

As a vampire, she was a member of the Lore, that stratum of beings who'd convinced humans they existed only in imagination. Yet though the Lore was thick here, Emma had been unable to replace her pusher. Any creatures she could scout out to ask fled her solely because she was a vampire. They scurried without knowing that she wasn't even a full-blooded one, nor that Emma was a wuss who'd never bitten another living being. As her fierce adoptive aunts loved to tell everyone, "Emma cries her pink tears if she dusts a moth's wings."

Emma had accomplished nothing during this trip that she'd insisted on taking. Her quest to uncover information about her deceased parents -- her Valkyrie mother and her unknown vampire father -- was a failure. A failure that would culminate in a call to her aunts to get them to retrieve her. Because she couldn't feed herself. Pitiful. She sighed. She'd be razzed about this for another seventy years --

She heard a crash, and before she even had time to feel bad for the waitress getting docked, another crash and then another followed. She tilted her head in curiosity -- just as a table umbrella across the walk shot fifteen feet up to be batted high in the sky, fluttering all the way to the Seine. A cruise boat honked and Gallic curses erupted.

Half-lit by the walk's torchlights, a towering man turned over café tables, artists' easels, and book stands selling century-old pornography. Tourists screamed and fled in the wake of destruction. Emma shot to her feet with a gasp, looping her satchel over her shoulder.

He was cutting a path directly to her, his black trench coat trailing behind him. His size and his unnaturally fluid movements made her wonder if he could possibly be human. His hair was thick and long, concealing half his face, and several days' growth of beard shadowed his jaw.

He pointed a shaking hand at her. "You," he growled.

She jerked glances over both of her shoulders looking for the unfortunate you he was addressing. Her. Holy shite, this madman had settled on her.

He turned his palm up and beckoned her to come to him -- as if he was confident she would.

"Uh, I-I don't know you," she squeaked, trying to back up, but her legs immediately met the bench.

He continued stalking her, ignoring the tables between them, tossing them aside like toys instead of varying his direct pursuit of her. Furious intent burned in his pale blue eyes. She could sense his rage more sharply as he neared, unsettling her, because her kind were considered the predators in the night -- never the prey. And because, at heart, she was a coward.

"Come." He bit out the word as though with difficulty and motioned for her again.

Eyes wide, she shook her head, then leapt backward over the bench, twisting in the air. She landed facing away from him and began speeding down the quay. She was weak, more than two days without blood, but terror made her quick as she crossed the Archevêché Bridge to exit the island.

Three . . . four blocks covered. She chanced a look behind her. Didn't see him. Had she lost him -- ? Sudden glaring music from her purse made her cry out.

Who in the hell had programmed the Crazy Frog ring tone into her cell phone? Her eyes narrowed. Aunt Regin. The world's most immature immortal, who looked like a siren and behaved like a frat pledge.

Cell phones in their coven were for dire emergency only. Ringers would disturb their hunting in the back alleys of New Orleans, and even a vibration would be enough to trigger a twitching ear in a low creature.

She flipped it open. Speak of the devil: Regin the Radiant.

"Little busy right now," Emma snapped, taking another peek over her shoulder.

"Drop your things. Don't take time to pack. Annika wants you at the executive airport immediately. You're in danger."

"Duh."

Click. That wasn't a warning -- that was narration.

She'd ask the details once she was on the plane. As if she'd needed a reason to return home. Just the mention of danger and she would scamper back to her coven, to her Valkyrie aunts who would kill anything that threatened her and keep malice at bay.

As she tried to remember her way to the airport where she'd landed, the rain started to fall, warm and light at first -- April lovers still laughing as they ran under awnings -- but swiftly turning to pounding cold. She came to a crowded avenue, feeling safer as she wound through traffic. She dodged cars with their wipers and horns going full-force. She didn't see her pursuer.

With only the satchel slung around her neck, she traveled quickly, miles passing beneath her feet before she spied an open park and then the airfield just beyond it. She could see the diffused air around the jet engines as they warmed, could see the shades on every window already drawn tight. Almost there.

Emma convinced herself she'd lost him, because she was fast. She was also adept at convincing herself of things that might not be -- good at pretending. She could pretend she took classes at night by choice, and that blushing didn't make her thirsty --

A vicious growl sounded. Her eyes widened, but she didn't turn back, just sprinted across the field. She felt claws sink into her ankle a second before she was dragged to the muddy ground and thrown onto her back. A hand covered her mouth, though she'd been trained not to scream.

"Never run from one such as me." Her attacker didn't sound human. "You will no' get away. And we like it." His voice was guttural like a beast's, breaking, yet his accent was . . . Scottish?

As she peered up at him through the rain, he examined her with eyes that were golden in color one moment, then flickering that eerie blue the next. No, not human.

Up close, she could see his features were even, masculine. A strong chin and jaw complemented the chiseled planes. He was beautiful, so much so that she thought he had to be a fallen angel. Possible. How could she rule out anything?

The hand that had been covering her mouth roughly grasped her chin. He narrowed his eyes, focusing on her lips -- on her barely noticeable fangs. "No," he choked out. "No' possible. . . ." He yanked her head side to side, running his face down her neck, smelling her, then growled in fury, "Goddamn you."

When his eyes turned blue sharply, she cried out, her breath seeming to leave her body.

"Can you trace?" he grated as though speech was difficult. "Answer me!"

She shook her head, uncomprehending. Tracing was how vampires teleported, disappearing and reappearing in thin air. Then he knows I'm a vampire?

"Can you?"

"N-no." She'd never been strong or skilled enough. "Please." She blinked against the rain, pleading with her eyes. "You have the wrong woman."

"Think I'd know you. Make sure, if you insist." He raised a hand -- to touch her? Strike her? She fought, hissing desperately.

A callused palm grasped the back of her neck, his other hand clenching her wrists as he bent down to her neck. Her body jerked from the feel of his tongue against her skin. His mouth was hot in the chill, wet air, making her shudder until her muscles knotted. He groaned while kissing her, his hand squeezing her wrists hard. Below her skirt, drops of rain tracked down her thighs, shocking her with cold.

"Don't do this! Please . . ." When her last word ended with a whimper, he seemed to come out of a trance, his brows drawing together as his eyes met hers, but he didn't release her hands.

He flicked his claw down her blouse and sliced it and the flimsy bra beneath open, then slowly brushed the halves past her breasts. She struggled, but it was useless against his strength. He studied her with a greedy gaze as rain splattered down, stinging her naked breasts. She was shivering uncontrollably.

His pain was so sharp it nauseated her. He could take her or he could tear open her unprotected belly and kill her. . . .

Instead he ripped open his own shirt, then placed his huge palms against her back to draw her to his chest. He groaned when their skin touched, and electricity seemed to flash through her. Lightning split the sky.

He rumbled foreign words against her ear. She felt they were . . . tender words, making her think she'd lost her mind. She went limp, her arms hangi...

Customer Reviews

5 Stars - Yummy to Say the Least
This is the first book from Ms. Kresley Cole that I read, and I instantly fell in love with her writings. I went and bought all the other Immortals After Dark Series that are available and all of them have proved to be fantastic reads.

Although some readers have mentioned that they did not like the idea of fated "mates" I find that Ms. Cole made the idea merely a way for the characters to meet and get to know each other. When it comes to subjects such as "fated mates" and "love at first sight"," it is generally easy for authors to fall in to the trap of not being able to explain/show why or how the two became so deeply in love with each other. However, this is not the case with Ms. Cole. As much as the two characters are destined to be together, and insticts did urge Lachlain to "protect" and "provide" his female, the emotional attraction between the two was never left out. By the end of the story, you will not have questions as to why they were so deeply in love with each other.

The character development of both Lachlain and Emmaline were great too. As much as Lachlain is an alpha male, and that he is very dominating in personality, he never overpowered the existance of Emmaline. In fact, with her being so timid, she personality stood out as much as the dominatign Lachlain did. Her change towards the end of the novel was also something that made her a very unique character. She was never annoying and stupid that you'll think she's too dumb to exist, nor was she ever so strong and stubborn that you'll want to kill her off just so the story can keep moving along. All in all, by the end of the novel, I've fallen in love with both of the characters and couldn't wait to see more of them in the books later on the series.

A Hunger like no Other
This is a nice change from just werewolves or vampires. This covers all the other's. With that said, I think there should have been another book before this one telling about how it all began. Each has their own stories, but they are still one family.

A Hunger For More
A Hunger Like No Other was far from what I expected. I thought that it was going to be a vampire love story that I was going to be bored with before I reached page 5, but Kresley Cole proved me wrong, by page 5 I was hooked. Emmaline is an inspiring and suprisingly sweet and gentle character it's hard not to fall in love with who she is as soon as you learn about her. When she is run down by the all powerful brooding Lachlain, a Lykae, he introduces her vulnerable personality to his extreme rough need for her. Lachlain is quite the invigorating character himself, being locked away by the vampires repeatedly burning him to death for more then 150 years until he escapes to find Emmaline, his life mate, and when he finds her he realizes she is one of the very kind who had been torturing him for all of these years. The story is about their struggle together, as well as their own seperate struggles. I was more then pleased with this amazing romance. It is hot and always keeps the reader on their toes wanting more.