By Amanda Ashley
Giggling at neighborhood superstitions that the spell binding Alexander Claybourne is a centuries-old vampire, Kara Crawford befriends the good-looking stranger and starts off an otherworldy experience of the center.
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Extra resources for Deeper Than the Night
He repeated the procedure several times, and all the while he thought of the little girl with curly blond hair who had come to him looking for a miracle. Alexander smiled grimly as he left the girl's room and headed for the emergency exit located at the end of the hall. He glanced down at his arm. A spot of dried blood marred his skin. Dark blood. Inhuman blood. Mingling with the girl's. He wondered what madness had possessed him to mingle his blood with the girl's. Would it kill or cure, he mused.
Her smile of welcome, warm and genuine, filled his heart_nay, his very soul_with sunlight. " Reaching inside his coat, he withdrew a parcel wrapped in white paper. " "You remembered! " She tore off the paper and stared at the cover. It depicted a raven-haired man bending over a woman's slender neck; the light from a full moon glinted off his fangs. "The Hunger," she said, reading the title aloud. " She handed him the book and a pen, then watched as he opened it to the title page. He wrote for a moment, then closed the book and handed it back to her.
He was the hottest, most prolific writer on the market. His books consistently made the New York Times Best Seller List. Personally, Kara didn't care to read horror. Out of curiosity to see what all the fuss was about, she had read one of his books. It had kept her up all night. "I read one of your books," she remarked candidly. " "Indeed? " "Are you kidding? " "And you? How do you feel about . . " He glanced out the window. He could sense the approaching dawn, feel the promised heat of the sun.