One Never Knows What the Longest Night Might Hold | Blitz + Giveaway

The winter solstice, a time of birth and rebirth, life and death, waning light and rising darkness. A time when those who flee the sun and crave the taste of blood find their greatest solace.

Once Upon the Longest Night is an anthology of romantic vampire stories by the following authors:

Charissa Weaks, Elizabeth Vaughan, Sara Dobie Bauer, Dan Stout, Linda Robertson, Alice Black, Jodi Henry, Melinda S. Collins, and poetry by Suzanna Ford

Once Upon the Longest Night

Publication Date: December 21, 2018

Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

The longest night. A vampire’s delight.

The winter solstice, a time of birth and rebirth, life and death, waning light and rising darkness. A time when those who flee the sun and crave the taste of blood find their greatest solace.

But one never knows what the longest night might hold.

Once Upon the Longest Night, a collection of adult paranormal romances, features eight novelettes of lovers and their battles against one of the greatest legends of our time: the vampire. A 15th-century seaman and the love of his life come face to face with a vengeful manjasang. In ancient Rome, a hunted priestess captured by a loyal centurion offers her aid to the enemy. With the help of a handsome Royal courier, a reluctant Romanian princess braves the curse flowing within her noble blood. Danger awaits when a vampire in the far reaches of North Dakota must endure the lethal cold to protect the woman she loves. And in a future New York, a broken general returns home for the Longest Night Ball where he meets a young male witch who might change his life forever.

This anthology combines vampire mythos and affairs of the heart with the sacred symbolism and magic of the winter season.

Sit back and let us tell you a tale. Welcome to the Longest Night.

Heat levels: Sweet to erotic.

From Silver Heart by Charissa Weaks

15th Century Italy. After a decade at sea and with an inheritance in hand, Cristiano Del Valle returns to his childhood home of Venezia in search of a new beginning. What he finds on the longest night is an ancient enemy who not only threatens the life he’s long desired, but also the love he thought he’d lost.

Elisabetta stood before the hearth of Pietro’s drafty workroom, unraveling her braids. She wore a silken nightrail and slippers, her wavy hair loose down her back. She turned away from the fire Milosh had kindly started and ran nervous hands along Pietro’s worktable. She knew her brother’s space as well as the main house, from every mortar and pestle to every brush and painting.

Her fingertips drifted atop jars of pigments, counting until she reached number eight. Indigo. She’d always loved that color. She wished to dip her finger into bright paint and draw her name across Cristiano’s skin, to mark him as hers, for in her heart, he always had been. No other had ever given her such desires or made her heart flutter or her body ache. None had ever stolen her every waking thought.

Footsteps approached in the entrance hall a moment before the door creaked open and the iron lock latched behind. She imagined Cristiano stepping into the room, dark skin gleaming under torchlight, a midnight-colored mantle draped over his broad shoulders.

“Elisabetta.” Her name rolled off his tongue with as much desperation as she felt coursing through her veins.

She went to him. He smelled like winter and felt like it, too. She brought his hands to her mouth, blowing warm breaths across his shaking fingers.

“Something amiss?” she said. “You’re trembling.”

“Nothing’s amiss,” he assured, though she wasn’t sure she believed him.

“Is it because I’ve brought you to Pietro’s workhouse? Would you rather return to our rooms and forget all this?”

He hugged her close and kissed the top of her head. “No, my love. All is well. Unless you’ve changed your mind.”

She shook her head. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Don’t be troubled.”

He tugged one hand free and touched her locks, placing a thick handful over her shoulder. “I’ve never seen your hair like this. I’m without words.”

Her face and neck warmed. Attempting to change the subject, she turned toward the workroom and gestured. “Pietro comes here when the house is too noisy for him to think.” She smiled. “So do I, sometimes.”

His hand slid across her stomach and closed on her waist; his mouth brushed against her ear. “Have we come here to think, then?”

Her eyes drifted closed. Her heart fluttered. “No.”

He pulled her to him and kissed her more deeply than any other kiss they’d shared, a ravenous kiss, brutal and greedy.

Heat consumed her. She untied his mantle and tossed the garment aside. He stripped her with deft hands, and she him, until they stood bare.

“You are so beautiful.” He touched his forehead to hers, his hands roaming over her body until they settled heavy on her naked hips. “Are you certain?”

She teased his bottom lip with her teeth. “Nevermore.”