About The Author

Katie Salidas is a USA Today bestselling author and RONE award winner known for her unique genre-blending style.

Since 2010 she's penned five bestselling book series: the Immortalis, Olde Town Pack, Little Werewolf, Chronicles of the Uprising, and the all-new Agents of A.S.S.E.T. series. As her not-so-secret alter ego, Rozlyn Sparks, she is a USA Today bestselling author of romance with a naughty side.

In her spare time Katie also produces and hosts a YouTube talk show; Spilling Ink. She also has a regular column on First Comics News where she explores writing from a nerdy perspective.

A little taste of Dark Salvation and a special treat too.

As part of the Close Encounters of the Wicked Kind Scavenger Hunt, I'm sharing a little Dark Salvation with you today! 
I have linked up with over 30 authors to bring you a collection of steamy and seductive stories.  I'm Katie Salidas, cross-genre Urban Fantasy and Erotica author. I love to dabble in all things vampire and I've been at this for quite some time. But before you sample a little of my latest, here is your chance to win it and many other fabulous reads. Today's scavenger hunt question:

So, Now that we've taken care of the business, how about a Sample?

Fatigue claimed his limbs and Nicholas had not the strength to fight it. He leaned back and rested on the cool floor. His eyelids drooped further. He blinked once, twice… and then allowed exhaustion to take him.
Vaguely aware of his surroundings, the rummaging of someone nearby brought him back to consciousness. Kitara. He remembered. She was helping him. She was human.
She was bleeding.
The sweet coppery scent hit his nose and his eyelids flew open. Instantly, he focused on the origin of that smell.
His entire being craved it. As if pulled by invisible strings, his body lifted off the floor. He was on his feet, snarling, fangs bared, ready to sink into soft flesh. It did not matter that she was frightened, Kitara’s blood called to him.
Before he could comprehend his own actions, he was on her. She squealed in fright but did not back away. “Please don’t kill me,” her voice was little more than a frantic whisper, but held her ground.
Nicholas had her wrist at his mouth, suckling like a babe at the wound she had made. He had not taken a second’s pause to wonder at how she had done it, but the cold tip of a blade pressing at the back of his neck answered that question for him.
“Please don’t kill me,” she said again, but this time the conviction had returned to her voice. “I don’t want to use this.”
Brave, he thought. Not that the knife would really save her, but that she thought to at least arm herself made him smile. He gulped down what little blood he thought he could without harming her, and lapped at the wound to close it. The invigorating effects were immediate. Warmth returned to his limbs. The ache of his wounds diminished to a dull throb.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said, his voice thick with desire for more. Nicholas had to rein in his inner beast. Her blood had been so rich, so sweet. A tantalizing treat he should never have sampled. Just that small taste had him craving more.
“You needed to heal.”
He looked at his arm. The wound was still there, but it had begun to scab over. Her blood was already working magic. “You took a dangerous risk.”
“I was armed.” She held the blade, a 10-inch chef’s knife up ready to strike.
Without warning, Nicholas lunged forward and grabbed Kitara’s wrist in a crushing grip. He pushed her backwards, pinning her to the wall with his body. She tried to struggle, but was no match for Nicholas. He took her free hand and held it firm against the wall.
Kitara’s heartbeat raced, vibrating through her chest into Nicholas’s body. The tantalizing thump-thump sent all of his blood rushing south. A new need arose within Nicholas. One he had not satisfied in a long while. Kitara’s breath shuddered. Nicholas felt the contracting of her muscles as she tried to fight his grip and bring the knife down upon him. Her human strength was nothing. Even in his weakened state he held her firm, but he admired her spirit. The smell of her fear, and her sweet orange and vanilla scent, called out to him. He bent his head low to take a better whiff. His nose grazed the soft skin at the base of her neck. She was a delicious temptation. He’d already sampled her blood once; he knew how rich and sweet she tasted, and he longed for more. He bent lower, drawing out the moment, savoring the anticipation, reveling in the frantic thump-thump of her calling heart, the pulsing artery in her neck practically begging for him to open up and devour all she had to give. Nicholas let out a slow breath and reined in his hunger. He gently pressed his lips against the soft warmth of her skin. Just a simple kiss, but that alone had its own satisfying effect.
Kitara’s body spasmed under his grip. She let out a strangled squeal, then went slack in his arms.
Nicholas held her firm, wrapping one arm around her waist, taking on her weight and keeping her upright. “Have I made my point?” Husky need filled his voice. Oh, how he wanted to slake his desire for her blood and her body! But that could not happen.
“Yes.” Her words came out in a whisper. The heat from her breath blew against his ear and her body pressed so close to his. Her warmth. Her scent. He was the one supposed to be in control, yet everything about her made him want to sit up and beg like a dog. All of his remaining blood had traveled down south, and suddenly his pants became unbearably tight.
 “Don’t ever take a risk like that again.” He pulled away from Kitara with a jerk, as if her very touch burned him.
“I’m not going to say I’m sorry.” Kitara’s voice found its conviction.
Nicholas didn’t bother to look at her as he responded. “You would be if I’d lost control.”
“I wouldn’t be able to feel anything if you’d lost control.”
“So you still have a death wish then?”
“Now who’s the one who can’t say thank you when they’ve had their life saved?”
The door opened behind them, a welcome distraction from the temptation that threatened to ruin Nicholas’s self-control.
“I’m immortal, sweetheart.” 

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