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Copyright ©2011 by Avril Ashton First published in 2011
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CONTENTS
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
About the Author
* * * *
A Total-E-Bound Publication
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Till Abandon
ISBN #978-0-85715-728-7
(C)Copyright Avril Ashton 2011
Cover Art by Posh Gosh (C)Copyright October 2011
Edited by Rebecca Hill
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author's
imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons,
living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
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The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the
Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the
author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2011 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way,
Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.
Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for
mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Total-e-burning and a sexometer
of 2.
Paranormal Security Council
TILL ABANDON
* * * *
Avril Ashton
* * * *
Book one in the Paranormal Security Council Series
All the power and killer instinct she possess can't protect her from the claiming
of one determined wolf.
They call her ‘The woman in white,’ whisper ‘Death-Bringer’ with their last
breath, but no one knows exactly what she is. Not even Voltaire herself. The
deadly magic within her is a living thing, able to crush anyone and everything
with a blink. Abandoning the blood-soaked world she's used to, Voltaire seeks
out the one constant in her tired life-the green-eyed wolf in her dreams. She's
ignored the wolf's call for years, afraid to surrender, but danger haunts her mate.
He needs her.
Wolf-shifter Blake Montez is in the middle of a war, battling the usurpers intent
on taking over his territory. Unfamiliar magic hums in the air, unnoticed-it
seems-by everyone but him. He finds the source already under his nose, in his
home. The delicate woman in white knows things no one should know, and the
heat simmering between them is unlike anything he's ever felt. His wolf
recognizes her as his mate, though Blake remains unsure he can trust her.
Voltaire sets out to prove herself with time running out. Enemies are on the
prowl, some foreseen, others remaining cloaked in shadow. She and Blake team
up, fighting side by side, but in the end Voltaire might be the biggest threat to
their love.
Dedication
For the family
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the
following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Zanotti: Giuseppe
Zanotti Lorenzi: Gianmarco Lorenzi Ducati Monster: Ducati Motor Holding
S.p.A Ford F150: Ford Motor Company Magli: Bruno Magli
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter One
"Will you fucking die already?” Voltaire pressed the right heel of her gold
Zanotti's into the bullet hole in the man's neck. The idiot keeping her from her
date struggled—a futile effort, if she did say so herself. His cobalt-blue eyes
stared up at her from his position on the floor, pleading for mercy while his body
twitched. Wet sounds gurgled in his throat, then he coughed. Dark red blood flew
everywhere, dotting the back of her heel and running like a red stream down the
corner of his mouth. Pink tears leaked from his eyes.
"Damn it, now look what you've done.” She lifted her foot off his throat to
inspect the damage to her shoe. “I bought these today, specially for this occasion,
and you go and fuck them up."
Men. Can't train them, or horsewhip them in the middle of the street. What the
hell is there left to do? Kill ‘em.
She knelt beside the man, who was getting bluer by the minute, and shook her
head. “You know, that colour does great things for your skin tone.” She grabbed
the sleeve of his white shirt and wiped off her heel. Blood pooled under him,
sinking into the plush, grey carpet. She glanced up at the digital clock on his
desk. He had some fabulous things in this office—she'd take a tour of the house
if she wasn't so damned strapped for time.
Hah, strapped.
A dull buzzing started on the left side of her skull, annoying as a mosquito.
"Will you stop already with the fucking mind control? You've been trying it all
night, and has it worked?” She lifted an eyebrow and projected her thoughts to
him. Obviously not. You pissed off the Council and they've marked you for
extinction. She bared her teeth. “Unfortunately for you, they gave you to me as a
going away gift."
Tugging the bowie knife from her ankle strap, she slashed his throat with a flick
of her wrist.
