When inquisitive antique dealer Cami Wilson learns she’s the revered offspring of an immortal mother and a mortal father, it’s not just her hybrid status that has her all flustered. The title comes with her very own super-sexy guardian.
Jaded immortal Joseph Carlisle has only one thing on his mind; his sworn duty to protect the hybrid from those who wish her harm. Anything else would be complicated. That is until they meet.
Chemistry sizzles between them but there’s a problem—the hybrid’s curse. Cami’s touch, skin to skin, proves near fatal to her and all immortals, Joseph included.
But the fated lovers discover her curse is the least of their concerns when a friend’s deadly betrayal threatens to tear them apart forever.
Abbey MacMunn writes paranormal, fantasy and sci fi romance. She lives in Hampshire, UK with her husband and their four children. She is a proud member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association.
When she’s not writing, she likes to watch films and TV shows – anything from rom-coms to superheroes to science fiction movies.
Cami Wilson shoved her things back into her pockets, including the curious brooch that started this craziness, and walked back into the pub.
Joseph and Daniel sat in a secluded area not far from the blazing fire.
She’d have to be blind not to notice the two brothers were seriously hot. Both had the type of ripped, muscular bodies most women drooled over, evident now they had removed their coats, but Joseph… oh boy, Joseph intrigued her. The wall of reserve he used as a shield and the ‘stay away’ warning in his eyes ought to be enough to make her wary, but there was something about Joseph that excited and frightened her at the same time. The moody attitude, together with the hint of sorrow and loneliness reflected in those amazing, glacier-blue eyes made her curious to know what was going on behind them. What he strived so hard to conceal.
Cami slipped out of her coat and hung it on the back of the chair, aware two sets of eyes watched her every move. Again her appearance bothered her. She’d dressed in tight jeans, a tad snug over her rounded, too-big backside, and a knitted cardigan with a hole in the armpit.
Why did they have to be so ridiculously good looking?
She sat opposite them, aimed for unflustered but suspected her burning cheeks gave her insecurities away.
She glanced at the roaring fire and took her cardigan off, revealing a fitted, short-sleeve blouse which accentuated her slim waist but showed more cleavage than she was comfortable with. Not that she had much of a cleavage. She took a breath. Okay, Cami, stop worrying about what you look like and just come straight out with it.
Shoulders squared, she slapped her palms on the table and fired a round of questions with the tenacity of an interrogator—or at least she intended to sound like one. ‘Who are you? Who is trying to kill me? What do you know about my brooch? And what the hell are immortals and guardians?’