Blood Treasure #2 (New Adult Vampire Romance): Blood Treasure, #2

By Mac Flynn

A strange, sensual dream, or a terrible truth?

Mary Murray can’t decide whether she dreamed that handsome stranger who visited her or whether her life just became more complicated.  Life throws her more punches as the students are warned by the locals that more than treasures lay in the forgotten tomb, and what is hidden there maybe have fangs for Mary.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Crescent Moon Studios, Inc.
• Release date: Nov 4, 2014
• ISBN: 9781502205940

Mac Flynn

A seductress of sensual words and a lover of paranormal plots, Flynn enjoys writing thrilling paranormal stories filled with naughty fun and hilarious hijinks. She is the author of numerous paranormal series that weave suspense, adventure and a good joke into a one-of-a-kind experience that readers are guaranteed to enjoy. From long adventure novels to tasty little short-story treats, there's a size and adventure for everyone.Want to know when her next series comes out? Join The Flynn newsletter and be the first to know! macflynn.com/newsletter/Also check out her website at macflynn.com for listings and excerpts of all of her books!

Book preview

Blood Treasure #2

Blood

Treasure

#

2

New Adult Vampire Romance

Mac Flynn

Copyright © 2017 by Mac Flynn

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Continue the adventure

Other series by Mac Flynn

1

M ary? Mary! a voice beside my head yelled .

My eyes shot open and I sat up in a daze. What? Where? I mumbled. Then I noticed Stacy kneeling beside

my

bed

.

In your tent in the middle of nowhere, but the professor says he’s going to take you and three other people to somewhere, she explained.

Somewhere? I repeated. My mind was a muddled mess of dreams and reality, and I couldn’t tell which was which.

To the village. He says we need some better supplies like flashlights, shovels, and some mirrors to reflect light into the place, she told me. But you’re not going to go if you don’t get up and get something to eat soon. The group’s leaving in twenty minutes.

I’m getting up. I’m hurrying, I murmured. I swung my legs over my cot and the action caused my head to spin. I clutched my head in one hand and grasped the edge of the cot with the other.

Stacy scrutinized my face and frowned. You look pale, are you feeling all right? she wondered.

I’m fine, just had a strange dream, I replied.

All right. I’ll get your bowl of gruel ready for you, and don’t forget your hiking bag, she reminded me. She took my other empty bowl beside the cot and left me to dress.

I hurried out of my tent five minutes later and found my bowl of gruel, otherwise known by civilized people as oatmeal, and shoveled it into my mouth. The group to go to the village stood at the far end of our campsite opposite my tent and the path to the dig site. The dirt road that wound around the mountains passed by there. It was a cart-wide trail with more rocks than a farmer’s field and was more crooked than a politician. The others on the trip were readying their hiking bags for the five-mile walk to the village. I raced through breakfast, breaking a land-speed record, and rushed over to them hopping up and down trying to get my