The
Unforgiven: Nicholas
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Order Today
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The
Unforgiven: Nicholas, October 2006
New Concepts Publishing
Heat Level: Spicy
IBSN: 1-58608-962-5
Genre: Paranormal/Vampire
Format: Ebook
Caught up in rebel intrigue to depose Peter III of Russia and
seat Empress Catherine on the throne, Tatiana discovers a danger
she had never expected as she plays the part of courier between
Catherine and her generals…
She has caught the eye
of the ancient vampire, Nicholas and he means to have her as his
own.
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Reviews
The Unforgiven: Nicholas has it all. Tracy L. Ranson has
everything in this book: deception, mystery, adventure
and romance. The Unforgiven: Nicholas is necessary read
for anyone who desires to read a hot romantic vampire
story.
- Sensual Reads and Reviews
5 Roses
Ms. Ranson
pens a tale with stirring events and such rich
historical detail that shouts out at the reader. She has
thoroughly done her research on this story. The blending
in of Zakara, and the vampire background of Nicholas, is
a great addition to the storyline. I could almost feel
her talon-like nails. There was just the right amount of
intrigue as well as love; passion and romance that made
this story a wonderful joy to read.
- Fallen Angel Reviews
4 Angels
Nicholas is a
masterful tale that is able to delight all types of
readers. Tracy L Ranson shows her talent for writing by
skating on the edge of passion but not going overboard.
This reviewer has read other books by this author and no
two are the same, which is without a doubt a great
literary accomplishment.
- Kwips and Kritiques
Ms. Ranson has
written a truly entertaining story. The author has done
an impeccable job at intertwining the supernatural world
with mortal history. The Unforgiven: Nicholas is an
imaginative and compelling tale of intrigue, treachery,
and betrayal that should not be missed.
- Coffee Time Romance
Excerpt
The feast took on
a very jovial atmosphere. Musicians, some of the best Europe
had to offer, filled the air with their lively tunes. Gilt
ornaments glared at them from the olive-green walls. The
floor was made of the finest parquet available. Nicholas had
danced with every available young woman, finding them all
suffocatingly boring. The only things they wished to talk
about were their places at court and which nobleman they had
set their eye on. He had longed for a woman who would be an
equal to himself in both intelligence and wit, as well as
fiery will. None of these women had a mind to call their
own.
What he wanted was a woman like his beloved Cleopatra.
Just as he whirled about in another waltz, he heard the
herald call attention. “All praise the glorious reign of Her
Majesty, the Empress Catherine!”
He watched the Empress enter the room, her regal air hard to
ignore. Suddenly, his attention was drawn to the lithe
figure shining with exotic radiance behind the Empress.
Strands of silver-blonde hair, swept back from her face and
festooned with small diamond clips, highlighted the
porcelain quality of her skin. Dove-gray eyes peeped out
from beneath a fan of inky lashes, the hue of her cheeks
naturally pink. Her lips were full and spread into a smile
that would light any man’s fire.
“Who is that woman?” he questioned his dance partner, the
fire starting to build inside.
“Why, that is the Empress, my dear,” she purred, taking a
hand and skimming his face with it, as if to tempt him.
“No,” he insisted, unable to tear his gaze away from the new
arrival, “the glorious creature behind her.”
The woman’s mouth twisted into a snarl, filling him with
revulsion. “Oh, that girl,” she huffed. “That is Tatiana
Ivanova Gregorovich, daughter of Count Ivan Gregorovich, the
Emperor’s general.” He felt her stare. “You would not like
her. She is a complete dolt and idiot.”
He turned, pushing down the urge to take this woman and snap
her neck. “What compels you to say that?”
“Because that is what she is,” the woman continued on, her
formerly pretty face now fast becoming ugly. “Her father has
tried to marry her off several times, but she refuses,
saying that in her condition that she cannot marry. That is
why her father placed her with the Empress.”
“What condition is that?”
His companion’s face became tighter, her mouth pinching at
the corners angrily. “Why are you so preoccupied with the
dolt? Am I not woman enough for you, at least for tonight?”
He waved a hand in front of her face. “Be gone with you and
forget that you ever spoke to me.”
Her repulsive face turned blank as she stared into the empty
air, affording him the freedom to walk away. Crossing the
room in several strides, he halted in front of the
mysterious woman, forcing her to stop. “Nicholas Greystone,
Lord Wetherington, at your service.” He bowed, introducing
himself quickly before she could get away. “And you are...?”
She giggled childishly, covering her mouth with her hand.
“The Empress’ lady-in-waiting,” she said, her delicious
smile spreading across her dewy-soft lips.
He picked up her hand and brought it to his lips, the cloth
of her gloves cool against his flesh. In that instant, he
saw flashes of her life, from birth until the present,
giving him a deep look into her personality. Even though
this woman played a child to the court, she was far more
sophisticated than she led everyone to believe. She was
involved in the political intrigue surrounding the Empress,
acting as a go-between for the monarch and her generals in
St. Petersburg. This little minx held a lot of secrets, a
certain treasure trove that he would not mind finding.
“Might I have your name, my lady, so that I might now whom I
am addressing?” He did not offer the knowledge that he
already had her name, for this was the surest way of getting
her to lower her guard.
“Ta ... Tatiana Gregorovich,” she said softly, her clear,
dusky eyes shining. Clearly, she was untouched, much like
the first snow of winter. “You speak our language so well,
my lord,” she inquired softly. “Were you schooled in my
country?”
Nicholas laughed slightly. Her ruse was most amusing. “I
have been schooled on many continents,” he offered, “and
your country is the most fascinating that I have found.”
Her cheeks took on another shade of rose, much deeper than
before. “Much thanks, my Lord Wetherington...”
“Please, address me as Nicholas,” he stated, the familiar
stirrings of lust rising. “My title is much too stuffy for a
man of my age to use. It reminds me of my father.” If only
Tatiana knew the truth. He was thousands of years old,
having lived during of the time of the pharaohs in Egypt.
She quickly cleared her throat, her delicate neck working in
conjunction. He could almost imagine the sweet, virgin blood
riding through her veins. “Nicholas, then,” she murmured,
her gaze trailing toward her mistress. “Please, if you will
pardon me....”
Nicholas grabbed her silk-clad arm, preventing her flight.
“Where are you fleeing to?”
“I am not fleeing, my lord. ‘Tis just that the Empress
requires that I be by her side at all times.”
He cast a quick glance at the Empress. Apparently, this was
not the case, because the regal monarch was engaged with a
large crowd, appearing not to need any of her attendants.
“Your mistress appears to be in good hands at the moment.
Would you perhaps join me for a walk in the gardens?”
Copyright
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2006
All Rights Reserved
