By Jacquelyn Frank
Because time started, there were Nightwalkers - the races of the evening who stay within the shadows of the moonlight. Love with people is admittedly forbidden, and one guy makes bound to uphold this old legislation: Jacob, the Enforcer...For seven hundred Years, He has resisted temptation. yet now not tonight...Jacob is aware the reasons his humans provide while the insanity overtakes them and so they fall prey to their lust for people. he is heard each and nonetheless introduced the trespassers to justice. proof against forbidden wishes, uncontrollable hungers, or the curse of the moon, his keep watch over is total...until the instant he sees Isabella on a shadowy long island urban highway. Saving her existence wasn't in his plans. Nor have been the overpowering emotions she arouses in him. however the second he holds her in his hands and feels the smooth explosion of her physique opposed to his, every little thing alterations. Their appeal is indisputable, risky, and entirely a crime. all at once every little thing Jacob has ever believed is infected via the warmth of desire...Bring at the evening.
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Additional info for Jacob
Yes, he was definitely stronger than he looked, and not just physically. It was enough to make even a lukewarm librarian shiver. A total package, complete with a European accent that was rich and elegant, just like the rest of him—Hungarian or Croatian, perhaps. He was quiet, graceful, and controlled, reeking a self-assurance that was piercing and an underlying dangerousness that sent that shiver up her spine after all. A total, enticing package for certain. One that was probably married with six kids.
Instead, she spun around, 360 degrees. She promptly fell onto her backside. All at once the creature was falling on her, laughing and slobbering with glee one minute... screaming a terrible scream of pain the next as it landed right on the rod she still held, impaling itself through the chest. Isabella blinked, momentarily shocked at how easily it seemed to slide into the creature, hardly any pressure or counterforce from her hands needed. She was next aware of powerful hands jerking her out from under the writhing monster just in time to save her from being at flashpoint as the thing burst into a conflagration of flames.
He nodded, knowing full well that what she called antiques had been brand new when he had purchased them so many years ago. Of course, there was no sense in telling her that, so he remained silent. ” she asked offhandedly as she reached for a tiny wooden figurine that she would never realize had been carved by a woman in a long-extinct African tribe hundreds of years ago, shined and mellowed with the woman’s spittle and painstaking rubbing. ” Isabella put down the little wooden figure, moving her light, caressing touch to the next thing and then the next, her sensory curiosity devouring all the curves and textures of his belongings.
Jacob by Jacquelyn Frank