Bite of Frost: Tris Grima, #2

By Tracey H. Kitts

Witches, frost sprites, a mysterious Dark Lord, and a hot gargoyle. What could go wrong?

 

This is Book Two in the Tris Grima series.

 

With the help of her sexy gargoyle, Hugh, Tris Grima continues to search for those responsible for her mother's death. What she discovers instead is that her grandmother was once part of a powerful coven. Only one coven member has survived to guard their grimoire … and now it has been stolen.

 

Warning: This addition to the series has witches, crazed frost sprites, a mysterious Dark Lord, and a nine-foot-tall white werewolf nicknamed Frosty.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tracey H. Kitts
• Release date: Jul 5, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386032274

Tracey H. Kitts

USA Today and New York Times Best Selling Author I write paranormal, sci-fi, and fantasy romance. I have wanted to be a writer for as long as I can remember. I write what I enjoy in the hopes that others will enjoy it as well. I've always been drawn to the macabre. Vampires, werewolves, you name it. I've never written about the paranormal because it's popular. I do it because that's what I'm interested in. If the vampire fad ever passes, I'll still be sitting here in my Dracula cape, getting my fang on.  I write erotic horror under the name T.K. Hardin.   

Book preview

Bite of Frost

Tris Grima Book Two

By

Tracey H. Kitts

Chapter One

I’ve got large breasts and I like to jog through the park at night. According to horror movie standards, if someone or some thing started to chase me, I should immediately trip over nothing and die.

But this isn’t a horror movie. I am not the one who gets chased. I am the one who chases. And at the moment I was on the trail of someone a vampire had hired me to track. This just so happened to work out well with my evening jog.

I was a vampire slayer by trade before becoming a vampire. The only thing that changed for me, job-wise, is that now I also hunt vampires for other vampires, occasionally. Before being turned I only took jobs from humans who were victims of vampires, or the occasional faerie or witch who had a loved one killed by a vamp. You get the idea.

This job though, this was something different for me. Not only was my quarry different, I was working with a partner. For the first time since my mother died seven years ago, I actually had someone to lean on. He wasn’t a legendary vampire slayer like she was, but a badass gargoyle who also happens to be the guardian of my bloodline isn’t exactly a step down.

Hugh Garet is a six-foot-five, long haired, blue eyed, literal sexy beast. We met in a dark rainy alley three weeks ago when he put himself between me and some angry werewolves. I had the situation under control. But who am I to get between a guardian and his duty?

That’s the night I learned he was bound to me by blood magic, and had been searching for me since my mother died. Her death activated his curse. Well, her blood touching the necklace I now wore activated his curse, to be precise. However, I am not an easy person to find. I make sure of that.

It took my blood touching the stone on the necklace as well for him to break through my protection spells and find me. Good thing too. If Hugh fails to protect two people in a row, he’ll turn to stone. Permanently.

"Any sign of –what exactly are we looking for again?" he asked.

The small earpiece I wore was tuned in to gargoyle radio, rather than my normal playlist.

If we’re talking, we might scare them off, I whispered.

I heard him sigh into the mic. I need to know what I’m looking for.

You sound sexy when you’re mad, I teased.

I’m not mad, he grumbled. I’m out here in the freezing cold, in the middle of the night, and I don’t know what to look for.

Fine. We were going to say to hell with stealth and have a conversation. Maybe whoever I was after had difficulty hearing.

Look, I see your point, but it’s not like I have much to go on myself. Look for anything unusual, but my guess would also be something cold.

He snorted with laughter. "Is that a joke, Tris? Because my frozen ass has lost its sense of humor.

No, I’m serious. The vamp who hired me said that the only trace she found of the thief were frosty hand prints. This was inside her well-heated home.

And they took a spellbook?

"Yes. A very old one. She was a witch before she was turned over a hundred years ago, still is a witch. She knew my grandmother. That’s how she managed to track me down, and why I took the job."

I was wondering. I thought you only killed vampires and kicked ass.

Funny. Would you like me to kick yours? I joked.

Don’t threaten me with a good time. And why is this book so special?

She didn’t say, only that it was very powerful. She gave me an incantation to repeat if the book is open when we cover it.

Jesus. It needs a magical lock?

Apparently so. I shivered. The cold does not affect me like it does other people. Being undead does have some advantages. I still feel the cold, but it can’t kill me.

"We’ve got a very powerful, mysterious spellbook out here somewhere, and some big bad cold