Gypsy Blood: Love bloody hurts (The Gypsy Blood Series Book 1) Read online

  I blush.

  “Did you? Did you fuck him? That thing?”

  Fuck? I ponder the word briefly, trying to formulate my answer, Yes, absolutely I fucked him, left, right and sideways, and by god, that man can screw. I mean let’s face it, he has had hundreds of years to practice, he’s a good-looking guy, and when he went down on me. I feel my face redden even further, say no more; he has ways of using his mouth and tongue that left me screaming in ecstasy again, and again. In Tanya’s vernacular, the guy ‘sucked like a vacuum cleaner’ and he really knew his way around pussy. Still, probably something Zan doesn’t need to hear.

  Seeing me blush, he makes for the door.

  “I never would have taken this,” he takes off his bracelet and throws it at me, “if I’d known you had to whore yourself to vampires to get it.”

  I wince as he heads towards the door.

  “I love you,” I say quietly. I mean fuck it, what harm can there be in the truth now? I’m ruined, soiled and damaged goods, he will never look at me again. I may as well let him know what I’ve known for a while now. “I saved you because I love you.”

  “And I thought I loved you,” he says, his face white, I think I see his eyes glisten a little, but I know I must be imagining it. “But I obviously never really knew you. The Freely I,” he chokes, “the Freely I knew would never, ever do this.”

  He loved me?

  He walks out, his shoulders down, and my pain and anger knows no bounds. I recover myself, and I want to hurt him, as he has hurt me.

  “Hey, at least I’m not fucking a rodent,” I shout at his retreating back, “have you checked to see if she’s got a tail?”

  “That rodent,” he turns back momentarily and growls, “is going to be my wife. It’s one of the things I came to tell you Freely. And now you know.”

  He slams the door behind him, and I stand stunned, silent for all of two seconds. I can hear the blood rushing in my ears as I make my way to the bed and crawl sobbing amongst the petals.

  The next day I board a plane for Texas.

  I frown and follow the stewardess towards the front of the plane. Someone has upgraded me to first class.

  She shows me to my seat, and I see a red rose laying on it with a small note on thick monogrammed and embossed paper in lovely, flowing hand-writing - in French.

  Ma petite gitane,

  Je compte les jours jusqu’à ce qu’on se revoie. Jusque-là je rêverai de tes lèvres douces, de tes cuisses crémeuses, de ton jus alléchant. Fais ce que tu dois faire, trouve-toi. Jusque-là, j’attendrai.

  Bien à vous, Henri.

  I sit down, order a daiquiri and frown at the note, before opening my laptop and punching in for a translation.

  My little gypsy,

  I count down the days until we meet again. Until then I will dream of your soft lips, your creamy thighs, your mouth-watering juice. Do what you must do, find yourself. I will be waiting.

  Your Henri.

  I gasp and slam the computer lid shut, blushing all over, worried that someone might have read the translation over my shoulder. In my haste, I knock over my drink, and it spills into my lap.

  Rude Henri, rude sexy-letter-writing Henri.

  I wipe as much of the daiquiri off my lap as I can with some paper towels from the table and someone walking past hands me a handkerchief. I don’t look up, just mutter a thank you and use it to mop up the pool of pink, frothy liquid before it sinks further through my jeans into my knickers.

  Throwing the soiled handkerchief onto the table between myself and the empty seat next to me I lean back, close my eyes and sigh - another, long sticky plane flight. When will I ever learn? These drinks are cursed. As the plane takes off I relax my tense muscles. Part of me knows I’m running away with my tail between my legs, part of me feels like I’ve just signed my own release ticket from hell.

  I send a quick text to Tanya, detailing my landing schedule and smirk, I can’t wait to show her Henri’s letter.

  It is not until much later, maybe an hour, when I am offered a meal. I glance over at the table with the handkerchief and used paper towels and move them aside to make space for the food tray when my eye catches the monogram on the fabric.

  I gasp and put my hand to my mouth to stifle a scream. It is one letter, V.

  PREVIEW OF GYPSY BLOOD 2

  ‘I walk the bloody line.’

  He hits me again, and this time I go down like a sack of shit. He is too strong, and I have no powers, I lost them when Zan left me, I lost a lot of things that day.

  “I don’t accept our marriage,” I say again, spitting blood, I can feel one of my teeth is a bit loose. I rise to my feet and back towards the table. “I never said ‘I do.’

  “You will do as you are told,” he shakes his head, “the line must continue. You have had your time with the princes,” he spits out the last word, “now you give your duty to your people.”

  I shake my head, but keep my eye on his hands as he raises his fist again.

  “I’m not one of your people,” I snarl, “I’m an Australian, I’m a modern woman, and I’m a journalist,” as I say the last word I hurl the knife I have pilfered from the wedding feast and concealed up to now, and pray it kills the bastard.

  It misses.

  The Gypsy Blood Trilogy

  Gypsy Blood Love bloody hurts

  Gypsy Blood I walk the bloody line

  Gypsy Blood The future looks…bloody

  www.helenallan.com

  Covers: Lilly Dormishev

  Dear Readers,

  If you like my writing why not sign up to my mailing list to receive free

  things, enter competitions, find out more about what I’m writing and be

  the first to get discounted new books when I release them.

  www.helenallan.com

  Helen Allan.

  Other Books by Helen Allan

  The Scarab Series

  Scarab Falling Through Time

  Scarab 2 Fighting Time

  Scarab 3 Chains of Time

  ‘An eternity as an immortal in slavery was not what she had in mind.’

  Desperate and alone, sixteen-year-old Megan uses a powerful and ancient talisman to escape modern-day life and make a new start in ancient Egypt. But powerful enemies lie in wait seeking her destruction and the magical scarab necklace she wields.

  Will an alliance with another immortal, the handsome and secretive Franklin, help keep her from harm long enough to learn the secrets of the scarab? – Or will he cause her to lose everything – including her heart?

  She thought he was going to kiss her and her breath caught in her throat, but his lips barely brushed hers as he smirked and whispered: “I will take you to my bed again, Little Slave when you beg me.”

  Now 18, Megan journeys on a dangerous and desperate search to discover who seeks her Scarab necklace before another in her close-knit circle is killed. And she will soon find that some she thought were friends are not, and some she thought were enemies might be the only hope she has.

  Hitting the dirt with a thud, Megan drew her swords and raced across to her lover, reaching him just as the beasts did. She turned to fight with him, back to back, as the crowd roared for their blood.

  Trapped, and having lost everyone she ever loved, Megan must find a way to journey back in time, and through space, to rescue the one she can’t live without. And this time, she will seek her revenge on those who have, for too long, used humans as playthings.

  The final in the Scarab Trilogy will leave you breathless!

  Table of Contents

  Preface

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Blood: Love bloody hurts (The Gypsy Blood Series Book 1)