Good morning! Please welcome guest blogger Katriena Knights. Though I will be away for most of the day, please feel free to leave comments for Katriena and I will post them as soon as I return. Thank you!
~Kate
Thanks very much, Kate, for hosting me again on your blog. Below is another excerpt from Blood on the Ice, my new book from Samhain. In this clip, Travis skates for the first time since he was Turned. He’s preparing for his new role as a player for the all-vampire Chicago Cobras hockey team with team captain Marcus Antonius.
BLURB: The neutral zone is no place for a vampire.
A right wing for the Chicago Blackhawks, all Travis Payne wants is to see his name on the Stanley Cup. He certainly doesn’t expect to be attacked by a vampire on the eve of the Finals. But when he wakes up in the Warm Room of the Cook County Morgue, he knows his life will never be the same.
Fortunately, Travis can still play hockey with the Chicago Cobras, the local vampire league franchise. Cobras captain Marcus Antonius, a former Roman gladiator, is more than willing to help Travis adjust to his new life, his new team, and the erosion of his formerly flaming heterosexuality. Travis is a difficult student, though—all he wants is his life to return to normal.
Unfortunately, learning to be a good vampire is even more complicated than following concussion protocols, and Travis will have to let go of everything to find a new normal.
Blood on the Ice, from Samhain Publishing
Travis wasn’t sure how long they skated. It seemed like forever, and it seemed like five minutes. By the end of the session, they were engaging in a one-on-one skirmish that had Antonius throwing Travis hard up against the boards nearly every time Travis tried to approach the net.
Finally Antonius shut things down. “It’s five a.m.,” he told Travis. “We’ve got to get you back before sunrise.”
Travis didn’t want to go, but he didn’t argue. He didn’t want to get in trouble at the MAP facility, and there wasn’t any point staying much longer, since he lapsed into a coma come sunrise, anyway. He followed Antonius off the ice.
It was strange, though. He’d skated nearly an hour, but he wasn’t tired. Nor was he sweaty, stiff, short of breath, or twinging anywhere. He’d taken some hard hits, and they’d hurt, but the pain had disappeared almost immediately. He’d been off the ice for weeks—he should have been miserable.
“So,” said Antonius as they changed out of their gear. “What do you think?”
“It’s hockey,” said Travis, and he wasn’t being even remotely flippant.
Antonius chuckled. “That it is.”
“I don’t have to train, or stretch, or work out, or pass medical tests…” Travis stripped off his black padded heat shirt, which was completely dry. “Or shower, apparently.”
“Some of the guys hit the showers. It’s good to wash off the blood sometimes. And it’s warm, which can be nice. But yeah, no concussions, no off-season surgeries, no training camp, and fresh blood after every game. That’s the good news.”
Travis eyed him. “What’s the bad news?”
“Your ass will always be exactly that big.”
Travis laughed. He’d worked hard for that ass—he wasn’t ashamed of it. Wasn’t ashamed of his huge, strong thighs, either. They just wouldn’t give him much of an advantage anymore.
He sat on the bench and unlaced his skates. “So the rules are different?”
“A little. Some of the penalties are more lenient. Hard to issue suspensions when guys heal up before the next game. Sometimes before the next shift.”
Travis nodded. “Makes sense.”
“Mostly it’s the rhythm. The game is faster, the shifts are longer, we tend not to stop long for injuries—that kind of thing.”
Travis looked up, nodding. Antonius had stripped down to his compression shorts and his jockstrap, and Travis couldn’t help noticing the scent that came with him— vampire scent, but with a new undertone, probably the result of their exertion. He also couldn’t help noticing the stretches of bare skin, the etched lines of ink on his arms, legs, and torso. Like the marks on his hands, they were so pale Travis could barely make them out.
“What are those?” Travis asked abruptly, mostly to take his mind off his own growing arousal. He’d hoped the exercise would have quieted his body down, but no such luck.
Antonius frowned, then glanced down at his arms. “Oh. Roman military tats, gladiator tats. It’s so they could hunt you down if you escaped. And some of them are names of gladiators I fought.” He read one of them out loud, something in Latin that Travis had no hope of understanding, especially when his eyes were riveted to the curve of Antonius’s biceps, his head going light with the spicy vampire smell.
All of it caught him off guard. He felt his teeth pop out and swallowed hard, hoping Antonius wouldn’t notice the sudden expansion of the lump in his shorts.
But Antonius smiled, the expression suddenly predatory. “Like what you see, Bambi?”
Travis clenched his teeth, trying to get the fangs under control. “Don’t fucking call me Bambi.”
Antonius chuckled. “Just giving you shit, Payne.”
“Fuck you,” Travis answered. It was what he would have said to any one of his teammates in his old locker room. As uncomfortable as it was to have Antonius call him on his boner, it also made him feel a little more at home.
Antonius’ responding smirk, though, was edgier than he was used to. “Maybe later,” he answered, and Travis swallowed hard, because it actually sounded like a really good idea.
Buy Link: http://store.samhainpublishing.com/blood-on-the-ice-p-73473.html
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