Description: Table of Contents Title Page Copyright Page Acknowledgements Chapter 1 - Western Australia, 1953 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Epilogue Teaser chapter More praise for the novels of Joey W. Hill "One of the finest, most erotic love stories I''ve ever read." --Shelby Reed, coauthor of Love a Younger Man "Sweet yet erotic . . . will linger in your heart long after the story is over."-- Sensual Romance Reviews "The perfect blend of suspense and romance."-- The Road to Romance "A beautifully told story of true love, magic and strength . . . a wondrous tale . . . a must-read."-- Romance Junkies "Darkly rich erotica at its finest."-- TwoLips Reviews "A passionate, poignant tale . . . The sex was emotional and charged with meaning . . . yet another must-read story from the ever-talented Joey Hill."-- Just Erotic Romance Reviews "This is not only a keeper, but one you will want to run out and tell your friends about."-- Fallen Angel Reviews "All the right touches of emotion, sex and a wonderful plot that you would usually find in a much longer tale."-- Romance Reviews Today "Dark and richly romantic . . . a feast for your libido and your most lascivious fantasies."-- Romantic Times Berkley Heat Titles by Joey W. Hill THE VAMPIRE QUEEN''S SERVANT THE MARK OF THE VAMPIRE QUEEN a VAMPIRE''S claim Berkley Sensation Titles by Joey W. Hill a MERMAID''S Kiss a WITCH''S BEAUTY Anthologies UNLACED (with Jaci Burton, Jasmine Haynes, and Denise Rossetti) THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP Published by the Penguin Group Penguin Group (USA) Inc. 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen''s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.) Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.) Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi--110 017, India Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.) Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England This is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author''s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content. Copyright 2009 by Joey W. Hill. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author''s rights. Purchase only authorized editions. HEAT and the HEAT design are trademarks belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data eISBN : 978-1-101-01465-3 1. Vampires--Fiction. I. Title. PS3608.I4343V365 2009 813''.6--dc22 2008039329 Acknowledgments My thanks to the Berkley editing team of Wendy McCurdy, Allison Brandau and a wealth of other names and faces I do not have the opportunity to meet, but who work so hard on my behalf. Thank you for making my stories shine. It''s been an amazing year! I also have three wonderful critique partners, who shepherd my books through the painstaking author editing process and make them better stories as a result, every time. Thank you so much, Sheri Fogarty, Ann Jacobs and Denise Rossetti. And for this book in particular, I need to extend an extra special thank-you to Denise. This lovely Australian lady and exceptional author kept her Yank friend out of too much trouble on the Australian setting and language for this book, all while juggling her own deadlines and travel plans. As always, any errors or inaccuracies that remain are entirely mine. 1 Western Australia, 1953 D ON''T go there tonight. Nothin'' but trouble. As Dev passed the aboriginal elder, he heard the warning, muttered in the language the old man knew he understood. A wise man would listen to such a warning. But he wanted a beer. A bloody galah he might be, but hell, he''d been in the Outback more than sixty days. Even uncooled, the beer would bring welcome bitter wetness to his throat. A smooth bottle in his hand, the clink of the top falling away on the bar surface. His craving for it made a knight seeking the Holy Grail no more than a bloke who liked collecting fancy cups. He needed the comfort of human conversation. At least for a night. After that, it would start to grate on his nerves, rouse old memories. He was like a seesaw, needing to descend into the embrace of humanity, but in short order he had to push off from that and let the other, darker part of him sink back into the vast emptiness of the harsh lands he called home. People were too full, and that fullness hurt the longer he stayed around it. So, after his beer and some idle talk, he''d pay his tithe for the company and the wetting of his throat and head back out. Unless there was a woman. He snorted at himself. Not only were unmarried women few and far between out here, no decent woman put a foot inside a bar. An indecent one would be snapped up in a heartbeat by any bloke willing to shell out his last quid for her. It didn''t matter. As bad as lingering in human company could be, a woman''s body was a drug that carried with it a hell of a hangover when he had to face himself in a mirror the next day. Unfortunately, he couldn''t ignore the burning need festering in his balls. His mind had been dragging him into all sorts of unlikely fantasies for the past couple weeks. He''d risked fatally dehydrating himself, those nights he''d given in to the poor substitute of his hand. He might have to give it away, take the Ghan down to Adelaide and endure the mobs of people and noise, where women for hire were more plentiful. Maybe it would be better that way. More impersonal and anonymous. Maybe he wouldn''t imagine Tina looking down at him with shame and sorrow in her eyes, from the heights of a heaven he was never going to see. Walling that thought off, he focused on an Adelaide whore. He''d want a soft and passably pretty sheila, one who''d smell clean. Who''d let him take her as rough as she could tolerate and still hang around to stroke his hair, curl in front of him so he could fit himself to her curves. Even have the pleasure of listening to her sleep, if he wore her out. Which, if he did her proper, would be the case. Uncomfortably aware that his imaginings were far from the impersonal fucking he''d claimed to be seeking, he tuned back in to his immediate surroundings. The usual scattering of vehicles, mostly utes, were parked in front of Joe and Elle''s place, a pub in the usual style. Two stories, the upper level for the hotel, the lower for the bar. A veranda that wrapped around the top level was for those who often preferred it to the stuffy rooms, if they had netting to guard against the bugs. A couple blokes sat out on it now, behind the lacy wrought iron railing, trying to catch the breeze. Aside from the utes, there was a pair of expensive-looking Rovers, one being worked over by an agitated, grease-stained driver and another man. City folk by their appearance, but they wore appropriate clothes for the bush and appeared to be carrying the right supplies needed when traveling out here. That was a relief. Less chance the whole bloody town would have to mobilize to rescue them from some foolishness. Lord knows, the bush could surprise even the most experienced man. It could chew up tourists and spit them out like a pack of dingoes on a helpless sheep. He took his swag into the bar with him as usual, because sometimes a light-fingered fella got to thinking you didn''t need your pack if you left it sitting unattended. However, as he stepped into the bar, he forgot he was even carrying it. Hell, if asked, he doubted he could

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