Max discovers that Jimmy McGill, the vampire masquerading as a phony preacher, is an old foe from his past. The man, who has created his own church with virgin blood-slaves sating his appetite, has managed to find fans among human followers as well as vampires in the Big Apple.
Jimmy has also begun to infiltrate Max’s mind. Only somebody with deep knowledge and a personal connection to Max would be able to do this. Yet Max simply can’t remember Jimmy. Memories might be dim, especially when they involve Max’s early life as a human, but remember he must, if Jimmy’s deadly rampage is to be stopped.
Longing to be at home in France, strolling his lush vineyards in the Loire Valley with, in his heart of hearts, Blue at his side, Max soon realizes Jimmy is a maniac who must be destroyed. Plunged into a brutal fight involving key central figures of the French Revolution, Max marshals his own army to combat the strange "legion" Jimmy has assembled. But can the House of Driscoll survive a bloody, deadly battle with a supreme enemy?
Advisory: This book contains some graphic violence and blood play. May not be suitable for the more sensitive reader.
“Anyway,” Blue muttered, “perhaps instead of torturing your servants with your skills of seduction, you should devote some time to trying to remember how this Jimmy knows you.”
Max raised his head again, then laughed aloud. “Jealousy is not attractive, Blue, but keep telling yourself you’re not jealous. Maybe one day you’ll believe it.”
Max laughed all the harder.
“Don’t overanalyze me, Max Driscoll.” Blue pointed a finger at him.
“Come here,” Max said softly.
“No. Oh, no.” Blue shook his head but he inched closer anyway.
“Your body parts don’t seem to be in agreement.” Max’s legs fell open, his gaze moving to Blue’s groin. “If you want me, here’s your opportunity. I’m feeling generous.”
“Generous?” Blue scoffed. “You are arrogant. Horny, you mean?”
“Call it what you like. You want it.” Max teased with a grin.
Blue muffled a moan deep in his chest. “Yes,” he hissed. “Goddamn you, Max. You truly are a monster. Am I to share you with the others then, waiting my turn in the line?” Blue’s palms settled on Max’s muscular thighs as he lowered himself onto the floor, on his haunches between Max’s parted knees. He met those startling, dark eyes.
“Not tonight,” he told him. “Tonight, there is no line.”
“God, do what you did to me in the bathtub. Please,” Blue pleaded. I don’t care how pathetic I sound. I need. I ache, and you can fix that.
Yes, I can fix it, baby…