She may resist his bite, but she can't resist his charms.
Werewolf princess Blu Masterson won't allow her seductive vampire husband to consummate their marriage with his bite, marking her forever. Alone in a secluded estate with her sworn enemy, Blu curses the marriage arranged to bring their rival nations together, especially since Creed Saint-Pierre calls out to her most feral desires.
When Blu uncovers her pack's secret plot to destroy the vampire nation - and Creed - she is forced to confront her growing feelings for her sexy undead husband. Will she choose the only life she's ever known or accept his vampire bite?
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The prequel to FAMILIAR STRANGER, and a new release in the Dark Enchantments series by USA Today Bestselling author Michele Hauf: He was supposed to be researching night hounds. Caratacus Bane, member of the secret hermetic order, The Cadre, was perfectly happy traveling the world in search of the elusive beast. Browse books written by Writers Name. Find Any Writer in our library. OnRead.com is the biggest online e-book storage in the world. Download and read online for free ebooks Written by Michele Hauf His.

Blu Masterson peeked between the heavy red curtains that stretched two stories high. She searched for her groom, but no particular man stood out amongst the huge crowd on the first-floor atrium of the Landmark Center. The room was ninety-percent male. The few females were vampires.
She saw that the room’s inhabitants had divided, as if magnetic filings to opposite poles—vampires to the right, werewolves to the left.
The dais toward the back of the ballroom had been decorated with a ridiculous white pergola tucked with red roses, and a string quartet played an adagio entirely too upbeat for her heavy heart at this, her wedding.
“But your hair is such a pretty color tonight.” Blu’s best friend, Sabrina Kriss, smooshed her friend’s thick bob with both hands and delivered her a glitter-frosted wink. “You’re just nervous.”
“Nervous? Is that what you call it? I’m marrying a freaking vampire, Bree. A vampire I’ve never met. A vampire I’ve been told is nine hundred years old. And in case you still missed the point—he’s a vampire.”
Bree rolled her violet eyes. She was sidhe, so did not relate to Blu’s ingrained disgust for vampires. Faeries got along with pretty much all the various paranormal nations. Werewolves did not.
As far as Blu was concerned, vampires were vile, blood-hungry creatures. They flaunted aristocratic snobbery that manifested as entitlement, and were possessed of an inhumane fixation on mortal man. They needed mortals for survival, while the species wasn’t worth her time.
“Don’t say his name. Please, Bree. It’ll only make the night more difficult to get through.”
Blu bowed her head and wandered to the window. Tugging aside the curtain, she looked over the dark street outside.
She’d agreed to this idiotic farce of an arranged marriage to appease her father and pack leader, Amandus Masterson. “To show the werewolf nation we are capable of putting aside our differences and embracing the vampire nation,” Amandus had proclaimed, but not without a wink.
Yeah, but he wasn’t the one being forced to marry a vampire.
When presented with the marriage proposal, Blu had staunchly refused. For weeks. She was a princess; no one told her what to do. That argument held little weight within her father’s pack. Blu hated all the Northern pack members. The only one she could tolerate was Ridge, her father’s right-hand man.

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Author:Michele Hauf
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Crowded dance clubs had never been her thing. And though she’d been here a few weeks earlier to get the vibe, see if she could scope out any wannabe vamps, Lucy was as uncomfortable now as she had been then.

The Blue Room was so called because it was all blue. From the neon-blue bar to the blue spotlights and the electric-blue drinks. The initial effect was disconcerting, especially the flesh that appeared gray, almost dead, but it was probably better than red. The place attracted a huge Goth crowd, so perhaps red would have been a more interesting choice.

The white Rachel Ray ruffled dress shirt sucked up the color, and her skinny gray skirt darkened to black under the lights. There were a few dashes of red and white and more flesh than should be legal.

So why had she come here? This seemed like a spot that would attract a vampire. Or, if the vampire had an ounce of self-respect, repel him.

“This was a mistake,” she muttered.

Truvin Stone was not the kind of vampire who would be caught dead in a place like this.

“Why am I being such the ditz lately? It’s almost as if I’m compelled to follow him like some kind of zombie girl. Did his bite do that?”

She clasped her neck. The wounds were still there. Though no longer swollen, but they had yet begun to heal. The ruffles around her neck hid them well enough, but they could not hide her sudden anxiety.

Did a vampire bite make the victim his slave? Someone who no longer thought rationally and became a sort of Renfieldesque follower?

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“You’re being irrational,” she murmured as she cringed to avoid a man whose leather jacket sported four-inch-long spikes darting up and down the sleeves.

Lucy had learned that while the Goth culture wasn’t as doom and gloom and death-frenzied as outsiders liked to believe, there was a certain cluster that lived as if they were immortal bloodsuckers. They even exchanged small amounts of blood with one another.

A stupid practice, Lucy had thought. But when she’d questioned them about the risk of contracting HIV, they’d merely shrugged. Vampires are immortal, you know. They really believed. Which was the tragic part.

On the other hand, was it all that different from sharing a common cup during Communion practice?

Faith, no matter in what form, was a curious thing.

Lucy had faith when it suited her. And while she knew it was supposed to be a constant and not an as-needed kind of thing, she hadn’t come to grips with her religious beliefs. Raised Catholic, she’d strayed after high school, straying so far from the flock to test a Universal Unitarian. They hadn’t been structured enough, so she’d given a Lutheran and a Baptist church a try. Turns out, group worship just wasn’t her thing.

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If yoga could be considered a religion, then ten points for her. She was in no rush, and there were many more religions out there to explore.

Dodging a waitress who swerved toward her with a tray


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