genre: M/M Historical (civil war)
length: novella
ISBN# electronic: 978-1-59998-862-3
Price $3.50 download

Buy in electronic format @ Samhain Publishing

BLURB:

Love? Or duty? His choice will damn his country—or his heart.

A Serving Love story.

Vampire Basile Gagnon wants nothing more than to put the United States, its war, and the heartbreak he found on its shores far behind him. He has suffered the loss of one too many mortal lovers, and refuses to risk his heart again, not even for Emil, the mortal he turned away five years ago.

When Union soldier Emil Franks steps aboard Basile’s ship, his mission is to try to convince Basile to lend his vessel to the Union cause. But with one look at his former lover, he reveals far more—his lingering love for Basile.

Neither time nor the fires of war have dimmed their passion for each other, but not even the fact that Emil is now a vampire can sway Basile from his course. In two days’ time, he leaves for his native France.

On this war-torn Valentine’s Day, Emil must choose: Love? Or country?

Reviews

 “This story is wonderfully written and I was drawn in from the first page. The characters are very appealing and easy to fall for. It’s a wonderful blend of history and romance and the sexual tension between the two characters really heats up the pages. Mary Winter’s desire to bring the Civil War era to life has paid off.” 
- Beth Senters, ParaNormal Romance Reviews

Excerpt

Sounds of a scuffle easily penetrated the decks to his room below. Raised voices and the solid thud of a fist against flesh propelled Basile out of his cabin. He took the stairs two at a time, emerging on deck to find the young lad with a bloody nose and a thunderous look on Emil’s face. The man scowled. “I’m sorry, lad, but I have to see him.”

“No—” the lad protested, spitting globules of blood and a broken tooth onto the deck.

“Yes, and clean that up.” Basile’s nostrils flared at the scent of blood. He strode over to Emil. “I told you to leave and yet, you’re here.”

“Since when have I followed your orders?” Emil grinned.

Basile’s heart melted just a little bit more. His other traitorous organ stirred, and Basile ensured he stood in shadow as to hide his body’s physical reaction. “We have nothing more to say to each other.” Basile crossed his arms over his chest.

“Oh, but I think we do.” The tang of badly brewed beer rolled off of Emil. Swaggering forward, he stopped in front of Basile. “We have a lot to talk about. Would you like to do it on deck or shall we have some privacy?”

“I’ve said everything that needs to be said. I’m leaving in two days. I can’t help you.” Basile drew on the well of patience he worked to cultivate deep inside. When one dealt on a regular basis with mortals, one needed as much patience as possible. Emil might not be a mortal any longer, but he still thought like one.

“You may be done, but I’m not,” Emil bantered as the moon emerged from behind clouds. Pale light glinted off his elongated canines.

Basile kept his reaction hidden. Perhaps if he ignored the fact Emil was a vampire, then he’d go away. Not likely. “Yes, I think you are. We are.” He struggled to keep his features dispassionate. Let the man think Basile no longer had any feelings for him. Let him return to his home. If it weren’t for a shipment to arrive tomorrow and the fact that most of his crew were on shore leave, he’d weigh anchor right now and leave Emil and his ceaseless demands behind.

Emil moved closer, so close had he still been mortal his breath would have caressed Basile’s skin. Cupping Basile’s chin, Emil stroked his thumb across the small cleft. “We’re not finished. Not by a long shot.”

Basile couldn’t stop the shudder that raced through his body. His cock tightened painfully. “Let’s go to my cabin,” he snarled past his clenched teeth. No need for the few men who remained on board to see their captain kissing another man. Basile worked to keep a low profile, both in the fact that he was a vampire and that he preferred men. Only a few trusted members of his crew knew his secrets. Basile wanted to keep it that way.

Triumph, quickly masked, filled Emil’s face.

Basile turned away, a bad taste in his mouth. That he’d succumbed to Emil’s wishes, even for just a few moments longer, galled. He hurried downstairs, regretting even bringing Emil below decks. As soon as he entered his cabin he slammed the door shut behind Emil. Tired of having to face Emil and risk his perfect plans going astray, Basile released the frustration bottled up inside him. “What will it take for you to go away?” he snarled.

“Prove to me you feel nothing for me. Prove to me that we’re really over. Then I’ll accept your unwillingness to help the Union cause and go away quietly.”

“Fine,” Basile growled. Curling his fingers over Emil’s shoulders, he shoved him against the wall. Before Emil could protest, Basile slanted his lips across his, hard and urgent. His tongue thrust into Emil’s mouth and struck the point of one fang.

Blood welled from the tiny wound.

Emil moaned, his throat working to try and swallow Basile’s crimson essence.

He really was a vampire.

Control fled along with Basile’s anger. Spearing his fingers into the man’s short hair, he marveled at once again feeling the silky strands against his hand. With lips and tongue he devoured Emil’s mouth. He stroked each of Emil’s fangs with his tongue, up and down as if they were miniature cocks. For so long, Basile had cut himself off from the man he’d loved because he feared the inevitable pain of his lover’s death. Now, with Emil a vampire, his greatest dreams could come true.

Except he still intended to leave for France in a couple of days. Getting out of the states before the war grew any more violent seemed like a prudent move. Emil wanted him to support the Union blockade. He wanted Basile to get his ship, his property, directly involved in the heinous battle. Basile fought for control. Blood pounded in his veins, hardened his cock like one of the masts of his ship, and demanded he take this man over and over again in an attempt to make up for lost time.

Emil flattened his palm on Basile’s chest. His fingers fumbled as he opened Basile’s shirt. A button flew off, pinging against the wall. Reaching into the opening, Emil traced the contours of Basile’s pectorals. He flattened his hands over the nipples, clenching and releasing like the paws of a purring cat. With his fingertips, he teased Basile’s nipples, drawing them into tiny, hard points.

Basile feared he wouldn’t last. Their tongues tangled. The sweet feel of Emil’s skin brought back so many sweet memories that Basile soon had Emil bared to the waist. His caresses found pathways across flesh both old and new. Several scars on Emil’s chest testified to his near-fatal wound, a battlefield somewhere, Basile guessed, not wanting to think about a mortal Emil putting himself into harm’s way. His hands curved around Emil’s waist. The arrow of hair leading to his cock promised a trail of sensual delights Basile ached to explore. Dropping his fingers to the waistband of Emil’s trousers, he unfastened them and shoved them down his hips.