Grave Vengeance
The Grave Series
Book Three
Lori Sjoberg
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Kensington Books
Date of Publication: January 19, 2015
ISBN: 9781601832696
ASIN: B00M01756O
Number of pages: Approx. 284
Word Count: Approx. 93,000
Cover Artist: Kensington Books
Book Description:
The past doesn’t like to play dead…
Handsome and haunted, he’s a reaper who prefers to work alone. But Fate has other plans for him and the sassy secret agent who shot him in another life—if their pasts don’t catch up with them first.
Dmitri Stavitsky has never played well with others—a Soviet KGB spy in life turned reaper after death, his work of bringing souls to the other side is best done alone. But orders from the top soon place him alongside fellow reaper Gwen Peterson, the American counterintelligence agent who took his life so many years ago. Now, as a ghost from Gwen’s past resurfaces with the power to steal reapers’ souls, the two have no choice but to set aside their differences and apprehend the rogue together. But their cross-country mission soon ignites feelings Dmitri thought he was no longer capable of—for the woman who helped destroy him.
With an ancient force and a small army against them, he’ll have to let go of old grudges or risk his future with Gwen…as Fate hangs dangerously in the balance.
Available at Amazon BN iTunes Kobo Google Books
Excerpt:
Some men were nice to look at. Others, you
couldn’t look away from. And then there was Dmitri Stavitsky.
He was taller
than her, around six foot four, and had the powerful build of a gymnast. The
shirt he wore did nothing to conceal his thick, corded arms or the broad
expanse of his chest. His thighs strained against the confines of his jeans. He
carried himself with an air of confidence that most men found intimidating and
most women found irresistible. And even though Gwen despised him as much as he
despised her, she had to admit he wore it well.
Gwen could feel
his eyes moving over her while she drove, and she resisted the urge to squirm
in her seat. “What?”
The passing
streetlights played over the planes of his face. He hadn’t shaved in a day or
two, and his jaw was shadowed with stubble. It made him look almost as
dangerous as he was.
Almost.
Back in the day,
he’d been one of the KGB’s top agents. For nearly a decade, he worked within
the borders of the United States, stealing some of the country’s most valuable
secrets. What he couldn’t steal he usually destroyed with calculated and
ruthless efficiency. He killed defectors before they could spill their secrets
as well as killing anyone else deemed an enemy of the Soviet Union. The full
extent of his treachery was never determined; he’d taken those secrets to the
grave.
“You cut your
hair.” During the Cold War, he spoke with a flawless American accent to mask
his true identity. The habit died when the Iron Curtain fell, and now his rich,
deep voice contained a blend of both Russian and American, with the former
growing more pronounced whenever he got pissed off.
Like now.
“So nice of you
to notice.”
One corner of
his mouth twitched. “It makes you look like a boy.”
Bastard. Her
grip tightened around the steering wheel. “Like I give a damn what you think.”
He laughed under
his breath. “I think you do.” The smirk on his face vanished when she ground
the gears. Careful! It took me two days to rebuild the transmission.
“Sorry.” Not
really. She totally meant to do that. “Third’s a little sticky.” She held back
a smile as she hooked a right onto Alafaya Boulevard.
Dmitri raked his
hands through his short, dark hair. He was a few weeks past the time for a cut,
and the ends curled around the nape of his neck. “Why are you here, Gwen?” Her
name sounded like poison on his tongue.
Good question.
Her current base of operations was on the opposite side of the country, along
the American side of the border with Mexico. Samuel had been vague on the
details when he contacted her late last night with orders to fly to Orlando for
a special assignment. She hated the idea of working with Dmitri, but knew
better than to refuse an order. After all, the Big Kahuna wasn’t known for his
gentle demeanor. The quicker they got the job finished, the quicker they could
return to their normal routines and forget the other existed.
“Samuel sent
me,” she replied with a shrug, knowing he’d understand the way the boss
operated.
He nodded, his
expression grim. “And why did you steal my car?”
“Because I
could.” And because she knew it would piss him off. It was the way things had
always worked between them. They’d lost their humanity and become reapers
together, and had been at each other’s throats ever since. Two Cold War relics,
passing through the modern age. “You really need to install a better anti-theft
system. Anybody with a screwdriver can hot-wire this thing in less than five
minutes.” She’d done it in three.
She could have
sworn he growled.
An uneasy
silence fell between them. She darted a quick glance in his direction and saw
the unwashed hostility darkening the blues of his eyes. The muscles along his
jaw clenched and unclenched, his full lips pressed into a thin white line.
The light ahead
switched from green to yellow. After checking for cops, she punched the gas to
make it through the intersection before the yellow turned to red. “You know,
I’m not happy about this either. The sooner we do whatever Samuel wants, the
sooner we can go our separate ways.”
With a huff of
annoyance, Dmitri rolled down the passenger side window and propped his arm on
the sill. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
For once, they
were in perfect agreement.
About the Author:
Growing up the youngest of three girls, Lori never had control of the remote. (Not that she's bitter about that. Really. Okay, maybe a little, but it's not like she's scarred for life or anything.) That meant a steady diet of science fiction and fantasy. Star Trek, Star Wars, Twilight Zone, Outer Limits - you name it, she watched it. It fed her imagination, and that came in handy when the hormones kicked in and she needed a creative excuse for being out past curfew.
After completing her first novel, she joined the Romance Writers of America and Central Florida Romance Writers. Now she exercises the analytical half of her brain at her day job, and the creative half writing sensual paranormal romance. Grim reapers are her specialty, but she loves to write about all creatures of the night.
Web: www.lorisjoberg.com
1 comment:
This sounds great! I also loved reading the bio, insight to the person behind the book! thank you for the chance!
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