Two rival opera singers.
One vampire, one human.
Both running from the past.
The Baritone’s
Rival
The Vampire
Impresario Book 2
by J.B. Warrick
Genre
M/M LGBTQ Paranormal Romance
Two rival opera
singers. One vampire, one human. Both running from the past.
Oscar Acosta’s abusive ex-boyfriend is dead, and his
old vampire coven is gone. Now all he cares about is winning a coveted spot
with the prestigious local opera company. His stiffest competition is Trent, an
adorable fellow grad student with a linebacker’s build who he is
definitely not crushing on.
When Oscar’s ex
turns out to be not-so-deceased, sending several vampires to kidnap him, Oscar
is forced to reveal his own vampire identity to his classmate. Can he trust
Trent or should he keep him at a safe distance?
Trent Erickson is on his own with no safety net. He
doesn’t have time for partying, especially not with a privileged trust fund
nepo baby like Oscar. Trent’s not going to let some rich flake steal his star
spot onstage, even if the guy stirs up feelings in him that he doesn’t
understand.
But when he
witnesses three savage vamps attacking Oscar, Trent’s own hidden history rears
its ugly head. After all, he knows more about fighting vampires than any human
should.
The Baritone’s Rival is a 60,000-word rivals to lovers, bi-awakening, fated mates vampire romance with a guaranteed HEA and no cliffhanger. It contains an ambitious opera singer and the closed-off vampire who falls for him in spite of himself. It also has steamy scenes and the violence you might expect from a vampire story. It is a standalone novel in an interconnected series. Not suitable for readers under 18.
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The Baritone’s Rival by J.B. Warrick Excerpt
Oscar retrieved a plastic bottle of alcohol and gauze pads from the island. He crouched down next to Trent. His cheek was right by the man’s broad chest.
“I don’t think you need stitches, but this is going to hurt a little.”
Trent nodded, although Oscar thought he might be drifting off. He poured a few drops of alcohol on a pad and touched it to the topmost cut.
Trent breathed in sharply, his hands gripping at the sides of the chair and his eyes snapping open.
“Fuck.”
Well, he was awake now. Oscar worked as fast as he could, but he wouldn’t risk infection. His fingers made their way across the damaged skin tenderly. Tenderness was not something Oscar had known much of, or something he trafficked in, but seeing Trent there brought it out in him.
He just wanted his classmate to be okay, for his smooth, pale skin to be unmarred by scars and injury. He had to reverse the wound, to make it as if it had never been. He didn’t know why it was so important. Trent had said he’d been in vampire fights before. Still, something about touching him like this made Oscar’s chest open up. It felt raw, unprotected, to be caring for Trent in this way.
When he hit one particularly tender area, Trent yelped in pain, and Oscar’s heart leapt into his throat. Why was he having this reaction? He wasn’t squeamish. He’d killed vampire and human alike. Was it just that he was responsible because Trent had saved his life? Every sigh and moan caused another crack in Oscar’s cool facade.
When the cuts were clean, he covered the area with a large piece of cotton gauze, holding it in place with medical tape. Oscar stepped back to admire his handiwork. Trent looked almost rugged with the bandage. It was a contrast to his innocent, midwestern face and sun-kissed skin. And it was sexy as hell.
Oscar forced away the thought. This man despised him and clearly had a thing against vampires in general. He was straight! Yet Oscar couldn’t help drinking in the sight of Trent as he relaxed against the wooden chair with his eyes closed.
“How are you feeling, Trent?” Anthony asked, startling Oscar. He hoped he hadn’t been staring for too long.
Trent’s eyes fluttered open. “Okay. The sting is duller.”
Anthony stepped toward him, reaching out to help him up.
“Good. Let’s go sit you down in the common area. I can get some ibuprofen for the pain.”
Trent grabbed Anthony’s hand and heaved himself up. As they moved to the door, Trent looked over at Oscar with a strange look on his face. A question. Did he not want to leave Oscar?
“I’ll be right there,” Oscar said. A smile sprang up unbidden at Trent’s expression. “I just need to wash your blood off my hands.”
“That is a weird thing to hear,” Trent said, chuckling low. A spark of electricity ran up Oscar’s spine at the deep, rich sound.
What was wrong with him?
As Trent and Anthony left, Oscar went over to the porcelain farmhouse sink, tossing the scraps of gauze and medical tape in the trash as he passed it. He turned on the water and held out his hands.
There wasn’t too much to wash off. The wound had dried, other than a few drips when the t-shirt was removed. A quick rinse and he was clean.
Except for the single droplet of Trent’s blood that sat on the side of the knuckle of Oscar’s right pointer finger.
He didn’t know why he did it. It was an impulse, a sudden desire with no logic or reason. After staring at the burgundy bead for a long moment, he brought his hand to his face and licked it off.
His vision blew out in a bright rainbow of color. The taste of it exploded his senses, and a thrilling tingle ran from his tongue, down his throat, and spread to every inch of his body. He was overwhelmed with the sensation.
Never mind the sweet, perfect flavor of it. Honey and clove. It was all Oscar wanted to taste for the rest of his life. The intense, thrilling assault on his senses could only mean one thing.
No. He couldn’t be Trent’s mate. Would the universe do this to him? Would fate give him a mate who despised the very idea of it? A man who wanted nothing to do with vampires? Who wanted nothing to do with him? Who probably hated him?
The Tenor’s
Shadow
The Vampire Impresario Book 1
One
temperamental opera singer. One vampire bodyguard. Let the sparks and secrets
fly.
Anthony
wouldn’t let anything stand in his way.
His career as an
operatic tenor was finally taking off, and he would be damned if he let some
stalker keep him from his globe-hopping musical dreams. But he had made the
mistake of telling his uncle about the threatening letters the creep had been
leaving in his hotel room.
Now he was
saddled with a muscle-bound bodyguard who was seriously cramping his love life,
even if the guy did have a swoony accent and the perfect number of freckles. No
matter what Anthony did, he couldn’t get rid of the stubborn redheaded Brit.
Freddie just didn’t fit in with his glamorous life of encores and galas and
schmoozing. And how did the man never sleep?
Freddie was
there to do a job.
The Tenor's
Shadow is a 50,000-word MM vampire romance with a guaranteed HEA and no
cliffhanger. It contains a strong-but-silent vampire bodyguard and the high
strung opera singer that falls fast for him. It also contains steamy scenes and
the violence you might expect from a vampire story. Not suitable for readers
under 18.
Excerpt from The Tenor’s Shadow by J.B. Warrick (Explicit)
Freddie was the head of security for a vampire coven. Most of his job was hiding their existence and lying to humans. But it was wrong to lie to Anthony. He wasn’t sure why, but the certainty of it resounded like a bell deep within him.
“There are things I can’t say.” He forced the words out. “To keep you safe.”
Anthony’s hand wrapped around his waist. Freddie had not been this close to another person, human or vamp, in decades. He lived a solitary existence. It kept him alive and sane. He preferred it. Or so he had thought.
“I do feel safe with you.”
At Anthony’s words, warmth spread throughout Freddie’s body, a comforting heat, as if he had just fed. He looked down to see Anthony’s face buried in his arm. Anthony was so much smaller than Freddie. It stirred his need to protect. Anthony was a fragile human, but he had a fire in him that deserved to be safeguarded, to be nurtured. Add in the fact that he smelled so damn good, and Freddie was lost.
Anthony’s hand ran along the side of his torso, and all thoughts of his job melted away as his cock hardened.
They were at thirty-five thousand feet. Freddie had never cared to join the mile-high club, but Anthony stirred a level of desire in him he thought had faded long ago. He made Freddie feel almost human again.
Freddie looked around. The airplane lights were turned down low and the nearby passengers were mostly asleep. A few wore headphones, listening to a podcast or watching a movie. Freddie leaned down, putting his lips against Anthony’s ear.
“With you against me like this,” he whispered, letting his deep voice rumble in his chest, “I can’t help but imagine how you’d look naked.”
Anthony let out a sweet, soft moan. God, playing with him was delightful. Freddie stroked the back of his neck, the motion both energizing him and grounding him.
“Shh, you wouldn’t want anyone to hear you. Better stay quiet.”
Anthony nodded, keeping his eyes closed and moving his head to Freddie’s chest. Freddie flicked his tongue against Anthony’s ear, and he squirmed as Freddie tightened his grip around him.
“I imagine you lying naked in front of me, your pretty cock so hard for me.”
Anthony managed to keep from moaning this time, but his fast intake of breath sent a jolt of desire down Freddie’s spine.
“So hard it hurts. I’m still in my suit, but you’re there, totally exposed, waiting for me. When I touch you, you tremble underneath me. I squeeze your cock and it’s too much to bear.”
Anthony’s arms tightened around him, and Freddie growled at the sign of his need.
“I’m so desperate to taste you. I spread you open and run my tongue along the rim of your hole.”
Freddie licked down Anthony’s neck as Anthony shivered and took in tiny gulps of air. He was trying to mute his reactions, but control was slipping away from him, and it delighted Freddie. Freddie could break him if he wanted to, and god, did he want to. Nothing would be hotter than having Anthony right at the edge.
“I make you suck my finger to get it nice and wet.” Freddie tapped his index finger against Anthony’s lips, and Anthony opened up. Freddie slipped the digit inside Anthony’s warm mouth. Anthony suckled him instinctually. Freddie could tell that his brain had gone offline. Only the desire to please remained.
“Good job, sweet. Then I push into your hole, first one finger, and then two. Once I’ve got the third in, I’ll know you’re ready for me.”
Anthony let out a quiet sob. Freddie licked a little circle on his neck, and Anthony’s breath quickened as he did so. Anthony’s skin was delicious, citrus and salt and sweat.
“I unzip my zipper, fully dressed and standing over your naked body, and I take out my cock. It’s hard and dripping for you.”
Anthony’s fingers clawed at Freddie’s side, full of desperate desire. Freddie chuckled. Anthony squirmed, hearing it.
“You have to be quiet,” Freddie whispered. “When I enter you, you can’t make a sound.”
Anthony nodded, his eyes still closed.
“I need to know you hear me, baby.”
“I…I’ll be quiet.” Anthony’s voice was barely even a whisper.
“Do you promise me?”
“I promise.” Anthony’s breath hitched, and a tremor shook him. Freddie thrilled at the effect he was having.
Freddie looked down at Anthony, at his angelic face and his pale, bare neck. He was perfect.
“When I push into you, you’ll be fuller than you ever have been in your entire life.”
Freddie checked the nearby rows one last time. Nobody was looking. He let his fangs drop.
It was dangerous to do this here, where someone might see. And it was dangerous because the demon was straining inside Freddie, wanting more, so much more, clamoring to claim Anthony. But Freddie knew he could never hurt him.
Gently, so gently, he bit into Anthony’s neck, barely puncturing the skin, not deep enough to reach a blood vessel. Anthony’s whole body spasmed. Freddie clamped his hand down on Anthony’s mouth, preventing his cry from escaping. Anthony trembled, and Freddie held him tight against himself.
The tremors slowed, subsiding into gentle twitches as the orgasm finished. Freddie removed his hand, stroking Anthony’s face.
“God, I think I just…” Anthony whispered.
Freddie hummed affirmatively. Anthony’s spent form rested against his chest and stomach. He was overwhelmed and floating in the afterglow. Freddie licked his thumb and rubbed it over the bite mark. The saliva would close up the shallow puncture wound, and in a few minutes, it would be nothing more than a fading red spot.
A single drop of blood had been left behind on Freddie’s thumb. He couldn’t help himself. He sucked it off his own skin.
The flavor of it exploded his senses, growing from an intense tingle on his tongue to a burst of electricity running through his whole body. His vision went white.
What was happening to him? Nothing had ever had that effect before. He’d heard of such a thing once, from a vampire who’d fed from his mate. Could that be what that was? Could Anthony be his?
Freddie squashed the conjecture. He was too old, too hidebound, too violent to have a mate. The universe would never give him such a gift.
“What did you do to me?” Anthony’s question came out in a broken whisper, forcing Freddie back into the real world. “That was…I’ve never felt anything like it.”
Freddie couldn’t speak. Instead, he stroked Anthony’s hair and luxuriated in the sensation of Anthony’s body pressed against him.
Eventually, Anthony fell asleep. Freddie sat there, listening to Anthony’s slow, even breathing, and already second-guessing himself. Anthony didn’t know he was a vampire. He was getting in too deep, and it was with the coven master’s nephew. With a human. This was going to hurt.
J.B. is a writer of MM paranormal and fantasy romance. They live in New York City, and when they're not writing they spend their time eating delicious snacks and listening to opera. If you're looking for fast-moving open door romance, fun and magic, and just a touch of darkness, J.B.'s books are for you!
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