Born with the ability to see spirits, immortal Yuri Sokolov avoids making contact with them, because such has always yielded negative results...until lovely Cat Seddon begins haunting his home and his dreams. As a new threat rises against the Immortal Guardians, Yuri disregards all the rules so he can be with Cat, even though the consequences are substantial.
For centuries, Catherine Seddon has been alone. When her brother is forced to join the Immortal Guardians’ ranks, she haunts the primary home of the powerful warriors to keep an eye on him, and soon finds herself captivated by Yuri. The handsome Russian immortal swiftly banishes her loneliness as friendship grows between them and deepens into love. But can two people who are unable to touch find a future together?
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PHANTOM EMBRACE
Excerpt
Cat leaned into the frame of a large window behind the massive
desk in David’s study. The sun’s rays, almost blindingly bright and sparkling
with dust motes, poured through the clean panes and passed right through her,
imbuing her with warmth.
The house around her was quiet. All the immortals slept. Many of
their human Seconds slept as well, having worked until noon or thereabouts,
running errands and conducting whatever business they did during the day for
the immortals they served and protected.
Even David slept, exhausted by the long hours he had kept of late,
aiding immortals in North Carolina and surrounding states whenever emergencies
arose, then spending the moments in between poring over medical textbooks in
search of any information that would help him and Seth carry Ami safely through
her difficult pregnancy.
Outside, Roland’s cat, Nietzsche—as cantankerous as his
owner—crept toward a squirrel.
The squirrel continued to nibble on an acorn, watching the cat
from the corner of its eye.
A pleasant male voice spoke, startling her. “There you are.”
Her head snapping around, Cat stared at the tall figure in the
doorway.
Yuri graced her with a charming smile as he entered and closed the
door behind him.
“Why aren’t you asleep?” she asked, telling her treacherous heart
to stop slamming against her ribs. She had never understood why she had
continued to feel that particular organ after she had breathed her last breath.
She never felt hunger. Never felt thirst. But her heart seemed to thump away in
her breast. One of many mysteries for which she had no explanation.
“I was looking for you,” he said, tucking his hands in his
pockets as he strolled toward her. He wore the usual garb of an immortal. Black
pants. Black T-shirt stretched taut over the thick muscles of his chest,
shoulders, and arms. Heavy black boots.
From what she understood, immortals and their Seconds dressed
thusly so blood stains would be less apparent to any looky-loos who saw them
after a hunt.
She frowned. Was that the right phrase? Looky-loos? It sounded
odd.
Regardless, the clothing suited Yuri, accenting his dark hair and chestnut
eyes.
She straightened as he approached the desk.
“I’ve only caught the briefest glimpses of you these last few
nights,” he commented.
Because she had been careful to avoid him since their talk. As
soon as he had entered a room, Cat had left it. She had even resisted the
temptation to follow him on his hunts.
He arched a dark brow. “Are you avoiding me?”
For a moment, Cat considered denying it. But she had told him she
valued honesty. So she nodded.
“Why?” He cocked his head to one side. “Did I offend you in some
way?”
Shaking her head, she glanced down. “I fear it is I who offended
you.” She forced herself to meet his gaze. “I owe you an apology.”
His expression remained impassive. “For what?”
“Now that I know you can see me, that you’ve always been
able to see me, I realize . . .” Mortified, she looked away and began to pleat
her skirts with anxious fingers. “You said you value your privacy, and I denied
you that on many an occasion, visiting your chamber and following you on hunts.
I—”
“Cat.”
She shook her head and met his gaze. “I don’t want to be like that
first spirit you mentioned, the one you spoke to. I don’t want to irritate you
or make you uncomfortable. I—”
“You don’t,” he interrupted with a kind smile. “You didn’t.” He
sighed as he circled the desk. “I feared this might be the reason for your
absence.” Stopping a few feet away, he leaned against the wall on the opposite
side of the window, careful to avoid the sun’s rays. “I confess I enjoyed your
presence each time you joined me in my room or on a hunt.” His smile widened. “The
former more than the latter. The latter proved dangerously distracting on more
than one occasion.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” he said and glanced out the window.
Cat followed his gaze.
Without warning, Nietzsche raced toward the squirrel.
The squirrel dropped its acorn and shot up the nearest tree, not
stopping until it reached the highest limbs, well out of the crazy cat’s reach.
Spinning around, it barked a peculiar little bark at the disgruntled feline,
its tail flicking wildly.
“It’s been so long, Cat,” Yuri murmured, his profile drawing her
gaze. “It’s been so very long since I’ve spent time with a woman around whom I
can relax and be myself.” He cast her a smile, both wry and sad at the same
time. “Five hundred years or so, if you can believe it.”
She couldn’t.
“Even when I was mortal, I had to hide my strange ability to see
spirits. If I didn’t, I was believed to be quite mad.” He shrugged. “Once I
became immortal, I had a great deal more to hide.”
Surely there had been women over the centuries. Even Bastien had
not remained celibate since his transformation.
“This life is not conducive to forming lasting relationships with
women,” he went on, almost as though she had spoken the thought aloud. “Human/immortal
relationships never end well. Most end bitterly when the human ages and the
immortal does not. The human always seems incapable of believing that the
immortal who loves her will continue to do so as she grows wrinkled and stooped
with age. That disbelief sows distrust. The elderly human convinces herself the
immortal must be seeing a younger woman on the side and launches accusations
each night as he leaves to hunt. The immortal always grows bitter himself that
the woman he loves has so little faith in him.”
He grew quiet, his handsome face pensive.
“Does it never work?” she asked.
“Very rarely. When it does, it always ends in tragedy when the
human inevitably dies. Until Roland met Sarah, the same held true for immortal/gifted
one relationships. Sarah is the first gifted one in history who
actually asked to be transformed so she could spend eternity with an immortal. In
the past, gifted ones always refused, which spawned even more
bitterness.”
He faced her once more. “I suspect you were born in another era,
so I hope this will not offend your sensibilities, but . . . casual,
meaningless sex has held no appeal for me for the past . . . oh . . . four
hundred years, give or take a decade. After a century or so it just grew . . .
tiresome and interested me about as much as eating the same meal for dinner
every night for hundreds of years would. Periodically one feels the need to
sate the hunger, of course, but it’s just the scratching of an itch. There’s no
real satisfaction in it. And certainly no affection.”
She fought back a blush. No man had ever spoken so plainly to her.
“I miss the company of women,” he said with something akin to
apology in his voice. “And while I was a bit wary of you the first few times
you joined me in my room, I soon found I enjoyed your presence there. Enjoyed the
companionship you provided. Enjoyed watching your expression change as you listened
to audiobooks with me when Stanislav didn’t join us.”
Revelation struck. “You started listening to them for me,
didn’t you?” she asked.
“Yes,” he admitted. “I couldn’t help but notice the looks of
longing you cast the books on my shelves.” He glanced at the floor-to-ceiling
bookshelves around them. “Or these.”
What a thoughtful gift he had given her. Cat had always been a bit
of a bluestocking when she had lived, burying her nose in a book whenever she
could. “Thank you.”
He inclined his head. “I even enjoyed watching television with
you.” He smiled. “As though we were an old married couple.”
That enigmatic heartbeat of hers quickened.
“You brought me a peace I haven’t experienced in many long years,
Cat. I’ve missed that these past few days.”
She swallowed. “I didn’t want to be like that other spirit. I didn’t
want to make a nuisance of myself.”
He huffed a laugh. “If you knew how much I’ve missed your company
since we spoke, you’d understand just how impossible that is.”
Hope and disbelief battled within her. Could she be so lucky?
He straightened away from the window frame and took a step toward
her.
Cat reached out instinctively to push him away from the sunlight.
“Careful,” she admonished. Warmth suffused her hands when they touched his
chest and started to pass through him. She jerked them back. “Oh. I’m sorry. I—”
He raised a hand to stop her apology, then held it out to her,
palm-up, as he had that night in his room.
Cat stared down at the large, masculine hand as sunlight bathed it.
“I’m old enough that I can sustain some exposure without
suffering.”
“Oh.” Cat glanced up at him, then tentatively placed her own hand
atop his, careful to ensure hers wouldn’t pass through it.
That wonderful warmth filled her where they pretended to touch.
Smiling, Yuri leaned down and mimicked kissing the back of her
hand.
More warmth suffused her where his lips contacted her intangible
skin.
He straightened. “Dmitry downloaded a new audiobook for me today
at my request.”
Cat smiled. One of the many things she had learned about Yuri in
the time she had been haunting him was that he was not at all comfortable with
the electronic devices and advanced technology of this time.
“He teased me mercilessly about it,” he continued with a wry smile.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I asked him to download something called a paranormal
romance.”
Paranormal
romance. The term sounded
familiar. “I think Tracy likes those.”
He nodded. “According to Marcus, female readers love them. Some
men do, too. Though some—like Dmitry—mock them for it.”
“Why?”
“Romance is considered a woman’s genre by many. Love and happily
ever after and that sort of thing. I think most men equate romance novels with
chick flicks.”
“Men don’t like love and happily ever after?”
He shrugged. “I don’t have a problem with it, but don’t know that
I’ll enjoy listening to it for twelve or thirteen hours. Marcus claims
paranormal romances also have a lot of action and violence in them, though, so
I thought it may be something we could both enjoy.”
“That was thoughtful of you,” she said, pleased by the overture.
“My reading, or—in this case—listening preferences can be a bit
dull and dry,” he said apologetically.
“No, not at all,” Cat protested.
He arched a brow.
She bit her lip. “It’s just . . . some crime stories . . .” She
tried to think of a diplomatic phrase that wouldn’t offend.
“Bore the petticoats off you?” he supplied, his brown eyes
twinkling with amusement.
She laughed. “Yes. I’ve watch too many of those police shows on
television with the Seconds. The stories all seem to blend together now.”
“Well, let’s see if this paranormal romance will spark your
interest, shall we?”
“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” she asked, hoping he would say no. It
had been hard to stay away from him this past week. She had missed his company.
“Yes, but let us at least listen to the first chapter or two and
get a taste of it. I’ll turn in after that.”
She grinned. “I’d like that.”
He circled the desk and headed for the door.
Cat followed, as excited as a girl being courted for the first
time. As he reached for the door handle, she passed through the wall beside the
door. In the hallway, she turned and found him holding the door open for her.
Both laughed.
“Forgive me,” she apologized. “Habit.”
He shook his head. “I claim the same. Opening doors for women is
second nature.” He stepped out into the hallway with her. “This will be fun, I
think,” he said with a smile. “Never a dull moment.”
Cat agreed wholeheartedly and accompanied him down to his room.
Dianne Duvall is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author of the Immortal Guardians paranormal romance series and The Gifted Ones series. Her books have twice been nominated for the RT Reviewers' Choice Award for Best Vampire Romance and are routinely deemed Top Picks by RT Book Reviews, The Romance Reviews, and/or Night Owl Reviews. Reviewers have called Dianne's books "utterly addictive" (RT Book Reviews), "fast-paced and humorous" (Publishers Weekly), "extraordinary" (Long and Short Reviews), and "wonderfully imaginative" (The Romance Reviews).
Dianne loves all things creative. When she isn't writing, Dianne is active in the independent film industry and has even appeared on-screen, crawling out of a moonlit grave and wielding a machete like some of the vampires she has created in her books.
For the latest news on upcoming releases, contests, and more, please visit www.DianneDuvall.com. You can also find Dianne online . . .
Dianne Duvall is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author of the Immortal Guardians paranormal romance series and The Gifted Ones series. Her books have twice been nominated for the RT Reviewers' Choice Award for Best Vampire Romance and are routinely deemed Top Picks by RT Book Reviews, The Romance Reviews, and/or Night Owl Reviews. Reviewers have called Dianne's books "utterly addictive" (RT Book Reviews), "fast-paced and humorous" (Publishers Weekly), "extraordinary" (Long and Short Reviews), and "wonderfully imaginative" (The Romance Reviews).
