Featherweight
by Tricia Andersen
Series: Hallow Brothers, #6
Genre: Paranormal/ MMA Romance
Release Date: July 19, 2020
He was just a hapless victim in a bar. At least that was what vampire hunter Dakota Ross thought until the sexy smartass she was drawn to protect was able to keep toe to toe with her as they fought. When she finds a strange tattoo etched into her back after a night of intense, passionate sex, she discovers that he is Ezekiel Hallow, one of seven werewolf brothers. They team up to find Black, who has killed her husband and has the Book of Elvesayd, an artifact Ezekiel desperately needs. Each step on their journey becomes more deadly as they get closer to Black. How far will they go to find the Book? Can Dakota stop Black from taking the life of another man she loves?
It seemed a little odd to Ezekiel that there were only a handful of people in the place but then again, he didn’t know just how far off the map he’d wandered. He sauntered to the bar and plopped down on a stool. Ordering a beer from the bartender he glanced around. A chill ran up his spine. Every set of eyes in the bar were focused on him. A couple guys grinned at him like he was prey.
It was then that he caught sight of something sharp and pearly white in the glow of the neon.
A pair of fangs. Fuck.
“What is it with you guys and bars, huh? I always pictured that you would be more wine and cheese snobs than canned beer and pretzels,” he questioned.
The two playing pool chuckled as they set their pool sticks down on the felt covered surface and prowled towards him. The one on the left, with black rumpled hair, untucked dress shirt, and wrinkled dress slacks smirked at him. “We guys? You act as if you know us?”
Ezekiel rose to his feet, nudging his beer aside. He scanned for exits other than glass doors. There were none. This place had to violate at least a dozen fire codes. Did they have fire codes in the backwoods? “I know your kind. You have distant cousins in Minnesota that are making my family’s life a living hell right now.”
The vampires frowned and the one dressed like he had left his soul at the office gave a hardy sniff to the stale air of the bar. He shrugged. “You wouldn’t be the first werewolf I’ve drained dry. Your blood tastes like shit, though.”
“Great to know.”
Before Ezekiel could drop into stance to defend himself, the bell on the door tinkled a greeting. The entire room turned to see who had walked in. He cursed under his breath. His odds weren’t great as it was and now, he had to defend someone?
Except there was no one there but a small puddle on the floor left by the storm outside. A second later two of the vampires closest to the door dropped to their knees, writhing in pain.
That was when Ezekiel saw her. Jet black hair flowed down past her ivory face and down her back. Eyes so dark they could have been mistaken as violet glanced at him. Her whole body, garbed in black, stiffened at the sight of him.
It was the woman in his dreams, the one that had made him jack off so many times before he hit the road on this trip. His cock stiffened at the sight of her. It was a really bad time for a hard-on.
“Take cover,” she demanded.
Ezekiel smiled at her, reassuringly. “I’ve got this, sweetheart.”
She glowered at him as her fist flew out, dropping another vampire to the ground. “I’m sorry. Did you just call me sweetheart?”
He bit back a groan as the two pool playing vampires charged him. For a moment, he thought the distraction was going to fuck up his fighting style. As one body thudded on top of the other, he let out a sigh of relief.
“Do you not like being called sweetheart?” he countered.
Her hand dropped to her thigh to produce a wicked looking knife. She pointed it at him. “I am not your sweetheart. Call me that again and it’ll be the last word you ever mutter.”
It was then that he caught sight of something sharp and pearly white in the glow of the neon.
A pair of fangs. Fuck.
“What is it with you guys and bars, huh? I always pictured that you would be more wine and cheese snobs than canned beer and pretzels,” he questioned.
The two playing pool chuckled as they set their pool sticks down on the felt covered surface and prowled towards him. The one on the left, with black rumpled hair, untucked dress shirt, and wrinkled dress slacks smirked at him. “We guys? You act as if you know us?”
Ezekiel rose to his feet, nudging his beer aside. He scanned for exits other than glass doors. There were none. This place had to violate at least a dozen fire codes. Did they have fire codes in the backwoods? “I know your kind. You have distant cousins in Minnesota that are making my family’s life a living hell right now.”
The vampires frowned and the one dressed like he had left his soul at the office gave a hardy sniff to the stale air of the bar. He shrugged. “You wouldn’t be the first werewolf I’ve drained dry. Your blood tastes like shit, though.”
“Great to know.”
Before Ezekiel could drop into stance to defend himself, the bell on the door tinkled a greeting. The entire room turned to see who had walked in. He cursed under his breath. His odds weren’t great as it was and now, he had to defend someone?
Except there was no one there but a small puddle on the floor left by the storm outside. A second later two of the vampires closest to the door dropped to their knees, writhing in pain.
That was when Ezekiel saw her. Jet black hair flowed down past her ivory face and down her back. Eyes so dark they could have been mistaken as violet glanced at him. Her whole body, garbed in black, stiffened at the sight of him.
It was the woman in his dreams, the one that had made him jack off so many times before he hit the road on this trip. His cock stiffened at the sight of her. It was a really bad time for a hard-on.
“Take cover,” she demanded.
Ezekiel smiled at her, reassuringly. “I’ve got this, sweetheart.”
She glowered at him as her fist flew out, dropping another vampire to the ground. “I’m sorry. Did you just call me sweetheart?”
He bit back a groan as the two pool playing vampires charged him. For a moment, he thought the distraction was going to fuck up his fighting style. As one body thudded on top of the other, he let out a sigh of relief.
“Do you not like being called sweetheart?” he countered.
Her hand dropped to her thigh to produce a wicked looking knife. She pointed it at him. “I am not your sweetheart. Call me that again and it’ll be the last word you ever mutter.”
Tricia Andersen lives in Iowa with her husband and her three children. She graduated from the University of Iowa with a Bachelor of Arts in English and from Kirkwood Community College with an Associate of Arts degree in Communications Media/Public Relations.
For the past five years, Tricia has been a member of Hard Drive Performance Center in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, an affiliate of Roufusport in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. She has experience in kickboxing and currently trains in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. Even though she has never competed in an MMA cage, she’s witnessed and been a part of a fighter’s journey from fight camp to their walk to the cage. She also has competed in jiu jitsu.
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