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A Mate for Titan (The Program #7)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:
Standalone Vampire Novel. Includes the novella, A Mate for Brynn
Have you ever wanted to date a vampire?
Human women required.
Titan is one of the strongest Vampire warriors on the team. He’ll take on anyone, anytime, anywhere and with his bare hands. There aren’t many things he’s afraid of. Only one thing to be exact. Human females. He’s deathly afraid of human females. Try as he might, Titan doesn’t understand them. Not one bit They send mixed signals and don’t always say what they mean.
This lack of understanding caused him to do something he’s deeply ashamed of. He’s working hard to make amends, whilst keeping his distance. This set-up is working perfectly fine until his kings send him on a mission. One that will send him straight into untold and unknown danger. It’s not guns, knives and bombs that scare him, it’s the one times pint size human he’s been assigned to work with.
Side by side.
As close as two people can get and Titan isn’t sure he’ll survive it.
The story contains strong sexual themes/language and is not intended for readers under the age of 18.
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Four months in the past …
The gun felt heavy in her hands, which trembled. Her palms were sweaty and her mouth was as dry as a martini with three olives. What she wouldn’t give for one of those right now. Natasha put her service revolver in her left hand and wiped her other palm against her black fatigues. Soundlessly, she sucked in a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before slowly letting it out. She gripped her gun tightly in both hands again, swallowing thickly. Her bulletproof vest felt too tight. For just a second, she was tempted to grip the Velcro edges and tear it from her body, to turn and run. These wayward emotions scared the living shit out of her. This wasn’t like her at all.
Her focus was drawn back to the job at hand as Rogers gave the signal to say that he was about to enter the warehouse. He locked eyes with her for a second, and winked.
The nerve. It wasn’t like he winked at any of the other members of the team. This was typical Rogers behavior!
Natasha was at the rear. Her job was simple, catch any bad guys who tried to escape and stop any reinforcements trying to enter her team’s flank. In other words, she needed to stand there and look pretty while the men faced the real danger. There was no way a woman could actually handle herself in the thick of things during an operation like this. Right?
Her hands shook some more. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. At this rate, she was going to prove them right, even though she could do this. In fact, she could handle any one of the positions the team members had taken. She’d done it a million times in the past. Okay, maybe not a million but a ton of times. Enough to know what she was doing. Nothing was different about this time. Well, except … this time she had plenty to prove. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of her temple.
Natasha had been with the FBI for six months now. This was her first real sting operation. She had excelled during her time on the police force, which was where she had been prior to coming there. Natasha could shoot better, kick harder and outrun anyone in her division. It was the whole reason the Bureau had taken notice of her in the first place. Yet, since coming onboard, she’d been treated like a rookie. Like a girl. The worst part of it all was that she was starting to buy into the bullshit.
She couldn’t help it that she was only five foot four and curvy ‒ make that very curvy, despite trying to hide under two tight sports bras. She also couldn’t help that, in spite of being a little on the plump side, she was considered to be attractive with long glossy black hair and big brown eyes. Natasha even had a beauty spot like that well known model … Cindy something. For the life of her she couldn’t remember the woman’s name.
She’d heard the guys joking with one another about how they’d like to have a little one-on-one session with her. Or how they’d like to show her their ‘big gun’. Hell, they’d even been rude to her face on too many times to count. The way they leered at her boobs and ass was sickening. Natasha knew it wasn’t so much about what she looked like, but was more of a dominance thing. She’d show them. Screw them all. She could do this. She lived for this. Had given up on marriage and kids for this.
She sucked in a deep breath as Rogers entered the building, followed by several others. A small team would also be entering the rear of the building. Natasha widened her stance and forced her grip on her gun to ease. She flinched as the first round was fired.
No way! She was becoming soft. Since when did she flinch at gunshot fire? Never.
Natasha had been shooting since she was twelve. Her dad had taught her everything she knew. Her first gun had been a Winchester. She remembered waking up the morning of her twelfth birthday and tearing the wrapping paper open. The excitement that coursed through her when her nose caught the telltale scent of gun oil. She still had that shotgun. Her first. It was lovingly wrapped in in a storage bag and placed on the top shelf of her gun safe.
Her collection had grown substantially over the years. Another gunshot rang out. Focus, Walters! That second shot sparked a whole lot more. Round after round. There was screaming, something crashed.
Just as the commotion was dying down. Just as her heart-rate began to normalize, the window next to her shattered and someone flew through it. They rolled a couple of times in a shower of glass.