Karma Synopsis:
People call me all sorts of names—bad girl, black sheep, and my all-time favorite...Satan’s bride. I could blame the fact I’m a witch for my behavior, but the truth is I’m infuriating, arrogant, and stab-worthy.
Alex Remington is a hunter and everything I’m not—righteous, honest, caring. We used to have a thing, but that was before he learned I’m a witch and tried to kill me.
Eighteen months later, he’s back in my life and we have a deal; I’ll help him save his brother and he’ll disappear from my life for good. But karma can be a real bitch…
Nadine Nightingale Bio:
Nadine aka Dini is a traveler at heart. She considers the world her home and practically lives out of her suitcases. When she’s not glaring at a blank page or abusing her poor keyboard, she spends her time reading, watching movies (preferably horror), pretends to work out, and hangs out with friends and family. Poor girl also suffers from a serious Marvel superhero addiction. So, if you run into her at night, wearing black, know she’s secretly dreaming of being the infamous Black Widow.
Her love for writing started in the sixth grade where she annoyed her classmates with a short story featuring Sailor Moon characters, a cemetery, and creepy ghosts. Yes, she’s always been addicted to the dark side. Nadine writes paranormal romance. Her debut novel “Karma” the first book in her paranormal romance series Drag.Me.To.Hell. is published by the Wild Rose Press and will be out in May 2016. She has a serious girl crush on her protagonist Amanda Bishop.
Nadine has a BA in Comparative Religions and studied Creative Writing at the University of Oxford.
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EXCEPRT:
The crescent moon slices through the buildings,
casting a silver light on the dark alley while Alex picks the lock in no time. I smile. “Nice.”
He yanks the door open. “Just hurry.”
Pushing past him, I walk straight to the backroom door, which is locked too. “Your talent is needed.”
Alex goes straight to work. “You do know pharmacies have silent alarms, right?”
Once the door opens, I push past him. “Yeah, not unheard of. Guess we better be quick then, hm?”
“Hey,” he says, following me. “How come I’ve never heard of devil’s breath?”
“Flashlight?” I mumble as we reach the large cabinets. He switches it on and points it at the drawers. “Devil’s breath is better known as scopolamine or the zombie drug,” I explain. Looking for the letter P, I scan the cabinets for physostigmine. There it is. Rushing toward the drawer, I open it.
“And you know this because?”
“I’m a fuckin’ genius,” I say, grabbing the flashlight out of his hand. Shit, there are a dozen drugs that start with P. Panex. Panheparin. Pardryl. Pavacot. God, who names this stuff? I go through the rest and finally find it. Hello, cure. Shoving the packet into my jacket, I shut the drawer. “Got it.”
“Awesome. Let’s get the hell outta here.”
Won’t argue with that. Alex pulls me toward the back door when I realize I forgot a crucial part. “Wait,” I say, going back.
“What are you doing?” he hisses.
Grabbing a syringe from another drawer, I rush to Alex and hold it under his nose. “Need this too.”
Annoyed, he’s dragging me out of the pharmacy when a car pulls in the parking lot. Alex shuts the door behind us and peeks around the corner. “Cops.”
Shit, we are officially screwed.
“We’ll be fine,” Alex whispers, feeling my trembling hands. When I hear footsteps approaching us, I doubt that.
“Now what?” I ask, unable to move.
He squeezes my hands to keep them from shaking “I’m sorry” is the last thing I hear before he pushes me against the wall and kisses me. Hard. Passionate. Desperate. I want to slap him, really I do. I also want to push him away and yell at him. Resist him, but I don’t. Instead, I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him back. His lips are like sandpaper, grinding away every rational thought, leaving nothing but a burned out shell. With Alex, everything is in sync. Our jaws, our tongues, our breath, even our fucking heartbeats. God, I have been starving, and I didn’t even know it until now.
“Guys,” someone shouts. “Break it up.”
What?
“Manda.” Alex’s forehead rests against mine. “Just
play along.” Play along?
“Kids, this is a public space. Why don’t you get a room?”
My hand in his, Alex smiles. “Sorry, officer.”
Officer? I force my gaze away from his lips. Shit. Officer with flashlight. Flashlight with officer. God, I can’t think straight.
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