There's always something good to read on Cover Reveals: Blood Bound by Traci Douglass

Blood Bound
by Traci Douglass
Blood Ravagers Book One
Anna Frost had a bad feeling when her twin sister, Liz, told her she’d run off with a member of the notorious Otherworld biker gang, the Blood Ravagers. And her unease skyrockets when her sister subsequently vanishes. The police have no authority and little interest, so Anna decides to take matters into her own hands by infiltrating the group to discover for herself what happened to Liz, where she meets…

Dante, half demon, half human. A mix of two worlds, accepted by neither, he’s had no choice but to learn the hard way how to play whatever side of the fence kept him alive during his nearly 500 years of existence. Now, as second-in-command of the Blood Ravagers biker gang, his survival depends on keeping his humanity a secret. Dante’s ultimate goal is to fulfill the vows he made over two centuries ago to create a world where half-breeds can live in safety and equality.

But when sheltered schoolteacher Anna finds unexpected, white-hot passion in the arms of Dante, will her quest for the truth cost him more than he ever bargained for? Or will they find a way to save Liz – and their love – together?

Genre: Paranormal Romance
Content/Theme(s): Vampires, Shifters, Demons, Bikers, BDSM, MC
Release Date: October 10, 2016
Publisher: Tule Publishing

Excerpt & More

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Excerpt:
Poised now at the entrance of Seven, Anna took a deep breath. The ornate brass door handle seemed out of place on the graffiti-covered wood, symbols both ancient and ominous carved into its surface. She traced her fingers over the delicate S-shape of a serpent, pierced by an arrow.

A loud crash thudded against the door, followed by the tinkle of shattering glass and low animalistic snarls. Not exactly the most reassuring welcome in the world, but she only had four days here before she was due to fly back to Atlanta.

It was now or never.

She’d get in, get her information, get out.

Anna creaked open the front door and stepped inside the bar’s cool, dark interior. The door slammed shut behind her, taking with it the sunny world outside. The junkie’s words looped through her mind as her eyes adjusted.

Forget Seven and the Blood Ravagers. They’re terminal.

Cigarette smoke clouded the air. Noisy ceiling fans swirled the smell of booze and bad decisions into a huge haze of sinister warning. Behind the bar stood a tall, tanned hunk with shaggy blond hair and violet eyes—a bottle of liquor clutched in his hand, frozen mid-pour. He stared back at her with an oh-shit expression. She scanned the large room. There was all manner of fur and fangs and one dude who appeared to be a fantastical shade of turquoise.

Hands trembling, Anna peered through the murkiness, broken here and there by a few bare bulbs and buzzing neon signs. A rusted yellow square with a red one and a percent sign hung crooked on the wall near her shoulder and an old jukebox in the distance played seventies punk rock on endless repeat.

Like a bad spaghetti western, all activity ceased and everyone’s attention zeroed in on her. Anna’s pulse tripped and her chest constricted, followed by queasy dizziness. She half expected Clint Eastwood to swagger over and ask her to make his day. Her analytical brain searched for rational explanations for what was happening.

Anxiety, hunger, sheer terror?

All of them seemed perfectly plausible at the moment.

When they were kids, Liz always joked if the twins lived to see the apocalypse, pragmatic Anna would march right up to Lucifer himself and demand to see the battle plans. She would’ve laughed then, if her sister hadn’t been right. Would’ve laughed now too, if she hadn’t been teetering on the edge of a full-blown panic attack.

Her mouth dried. Cold sweat prickled the back of her neck.

This was a mistake.

Liz knew better than to involve herself here, didn’t she?

Flashes of memory slammed into her mind like machine gun fire. A different crowd. A different threat. A different time when Anna’s attempts to help Liz had gone horribly, lethally wrong.

She backed slowly toward the exit. One step, two. A few more and the outside world beckoned. She could run back to the rental car, start the engine and get out of Dodge or Salvation or wherever the hell this place was.

Hands fumbling behind her, Anna reached for the door handle, but encountered only warm, hard muscle. She froze, a silent squeak lodged in her throat.

“Who are you?” The voice was deep and rough and thoroughly male. Her already racing pulse tripled. Through an adrenaline-soaked haze, she somehow managed to detect the hint of an accent. The way he rolled his R’s. European? Italian, maybe?

Anna swiveled slow and stared into the face of a man she’d seen earlier, the biker with the stubble and aviator shades. The sunglasses were gone now, revealing a pair of obsidian-dark eyes, a brief flicker of crimson at their core—there, then gone.

Her universe tilted on its axis. Everything seemed to drift away. Farther, farther, until all that remained was this man. This man, with his beautiful face and fathomless eyes. Anna’s vision tunneled and her consciousness slipped and from the growing black void of nothingness she heard him curse.

At least she thought it was a curse.

His language was low, guttural, violent to the core.

Yet his arms felt warm and gentle as they saved her from crashing to the cold, hard ground.
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