Prism Book Alliance® would like to thank ZA Maxfield for stopping by today.
Title: Deep Deliverance
Author: ZA Maxfield
Genre: Action/Adventure, Fiction, Gay, Gay Fiction, Gay Romance, Paranormal, Thriller
Forever is a long time. Even for a vampire.
Deep, Book 3
When Adin Tredeger discovers his lover Donte’s role in turning him into a vampire, he’s outraged. The opportunity to attend Ned Harwiche’s funeral is perfect for putting some distance between them, but as a newly turned vampire, he mustn’t go alone.
Cristobel Santos—one of Donte’s lifelong enemies—and an attractive Irish vampire named Sean offer to chaperone his trip. They are as determined to help him as he is to reject their aid.
While Adin fights his new reality he’s kidnapped by rogue hunters and used as a lab rat in some skin-searing experiments. Adin’s distress electrifies his connection to Donte, but rescue is only the beginning…
Hot vampires, spoiled teens, big cat shifters, and two men trying to figure out how to squeeze several lifetimes’ worth of love into every moment of their big, fat eternity. Ouch…
Hello to everyone! ZAM here. Right now I’m enjoying a lovely spring afternoon in Southern California. It’s about 80F. Birds are twittering outside my window. It’s hard to even think about a subject as dark as vampires on a day like today!
But that’s exactly what I’m doing, because the final book in the “Deep” trilogy came out, Deep Deliverance. Adin and Donte start out in Colorado, where Adin is getting used to his new, undead life. Donte, though…
Donte’s time in the garden is interrupted by a rival, Irish vampire Sean from book one, Deep Desire. Here’s a scene to whet your appetite for more in Deep Deliverance!
Most afternoons, Donte immersed himself in his new favorite pastime—digging handfuls of loamy soil out of a large bucket in order to pot the seedlings he’d nurtured in ice cube trays. He’d taken to spending time with the fragrant herbs and bright flowers in the greenhouse more by accident than design. Adin seemed to need time alone and Donte enjoyed the scent of growing things. The greenhouse had provided them both with what they needed, and for a bonus, Donte’d discovered a passion for gardening he’d left behind along with the monastery where he’d spent his adolescence.
He grew herbs like basil and marjoram and mint, simply for their scent. He potted African violets to brighten up the cabin. And he’d rediscovered the plant Colorado natives had won the right to grow legally—marijuana—which amused him because smoking it amused him. It made him mellow, and it made Adin silly, which was a good change given that lately they’d both had the tendency to brood.
Donte blew out a thin stream of smoke and laid his blunt in an old clay ashtray. Perhaps the heady sensation made Adin forget his anger at being turned for a moment or two.
If only it could make him leave his anger behind altogether…
The door opened and Sean called, “Here you are.”
Donte turned and eyed him suspiciously.
“All right if I come in?” At least he had the good manners to ask before entering.
“I don’t mind.” Donte eyed his rival. That’s what he was, after all, no matter how helpful he intended to be. Sending Sean was Santos’s idea of a good joke—one whose punch line Adin would probably enjoy only too well. “Did Santos send you here to take Adin from me?”
“Do you think I could?” Sean’s eyes sparkled with merriment.
“I doubt it.” Again, Donte didn’t know what to make of this interloper. He was pleasant enough. He made Adin smile. If for no other reason than that, Donte had agreed to let him stay. Donte swiveled on his stool. “But I’m supposed to give you leave to try, is that it? Santos imagines some kind of emotional love triangle?”
“I have no idea what Santos sees in his imagination, but I doubt any of us are featured prominently,” Sean admitted. “At any rate, I’m not a Trojan horse, carrying your enemy. Santos really believes you might need some help.”
Sean hopped up onto the bench next to the pots Donte had lined up. “You tell me. How is Adin handling his new un-life?”
Donte barely managed to hide his skepticism. “Adin is headstrong. He’s fighting it.”
“Quelle surprise.” With Sean’s Irish brogue, the words made Donte smile ruefully. “What’s he doing?”
It was a measure of Donte’s unhappiness that he admitted the problem. “He will not feed from humans, for one thing.”
Sean’s eyes widened. “Say that again?”
“He starves himself until he’s desperate and dangerous, and then he only feeds from me. Or animals.”
“Christ. Doesn’t he know how risky that is?”
“Do you imagine I haven’t warned him?” Donte raked both hands through his hair. “You’ve seen him. He’s thin. He’s too pale. He feeds only enough to keep himself walking upright.”
“If he won’t feed from humans, he won’t survive for more than a year. Have you told him that?”
“What did the council say? They have a representative in Boulder. Surely—”
“We haven’t gotten that far yet. We’ve only been here three months. I hoped he’d soften his position. I hoped to take him to meet with the council when he was acclimated.”
“You haven’t taken him?” Sean whipped his phone out to make a call, but just as quickly, Donte took it from him.
“Stop.” Donte laid the phone on the potting bench and covered it with his hand.
“Are you insane?” Sean asked. “You must be, if you haven’t informed the council you have progeny in the area. Progeny are responsible for a full three-fourths of the accidental kills in this country. By not informing them—”
“I’m handling it.”
“How?” Sean asked. “By keeping Adin isolated here and letting him feed from animals? By letting him feed from you until you’re too weak to stop him should his hunger crest when a neighbor drops by to ask after a missing cat?”
“It’s not like that. We take the squirrels. The rabbits. I feed from humans and then he feeds from me. It’s now how you think.”
Sean’s expression hardened. “You know I have to report this.”
“You offered me your help, did you not? Reporting Adin to the council will make things worse, not better. He’ll dig in. He’ll resist anything they say. He’ll take any punishment they offer.”
“But if I don’t—” Sean shook his head, “—and he harms someone…”
Donte let his head fall back. He gazed at the sky through the glass ceiling. Clouds gathered overhead. “I’ll talk to him.”
About the Author
Z.A. Maxfield started writing in 2007 on a dare from her children and never looked back. Pathologically disorganized, and perennially optimistic, she writes as much as she can, reads as much as she dares, and enjoys her time with family and friends. Three things reverberate throughout all her stories: Unconditional love, redemption, and the belief that miracles happen when we least expect them.
If anyone asks her how a wife and mother of four can find time for a writing career, she’ll answer, “It’s amazing what you can accomplish if you give up housework.”
I have a number of paperbacks, most of which are signed, to giveaway. Over the between now (11 Mar 2017) and 31 Mar 2017, every comment on the blog (this post and all other new posts), will be entered to win 1 of these paperbacks. There are also some misc swag items, so there will be a few packs of these to give away as well.
Thank you so much for your support over the last 4 years. Prism will be closing its doors on 1 April 2017. All content will remain available, but no new content will appear after 31 Mar 2017. As such all request forms have been turned off. Again Thank you,
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