My Thoughts
I have loved every bit of this series and couldn't wait to read the siren's story. I absolutely LOVED that Alex's match was the plant lady for the Immortals. Alex is the last of the sirens and really is kind of lonely wanting more. Then Cassius tells him that it is time for him to choose his mate and Hope is the one he chooses. I loved that she was everything he never knew he needed and so much more. I loved their story and can't wait to read more of this series.
I give Dark Surrender 5 hearts!
About the Book
Never met a male siren before?
You're about to....
I grew up as a prince...
And lead the life of a King.
There isn't anyone or anything that doesn't want me, that
isn't attracted to me. They can't help it. And I sure as hell don't want them
to. I live for their lust, I crave touch like an addiction, I make them beg on
their knees for one, simple, caress.
As a male siren it's my job to feed off emotion.
And I was happy to do it.
I am happy to do it.
What I'm not happy about? Being told I have to mate with
some withering human and stay loyal to that one person for the next few
centuries. There's a war coming and being the idiot I am--I offered to take one
for the team in order to help a friend.
Now my sexual appetite is taking a freaking kick in the
nuts.
And I'm left wondering if it's worth it.
If she's worth it, with messy hair and dirty human hands.
But I have a world to save.
A job to do.
Now, if only, she would just let me do it rather than
fighting me at every turn. I've lived lifetimes as the most irresistible being
on the planet.
Only to meet my match.
With one.
Measly.
Human.
They say hells hot. They're wrong.
Because Hope, my little human, is way hotter.
And before this is over--she may just singe me alive.
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Excerpt
To say I was pissed.
To say I was angry
To say I was intrigued.
I couldn’t decide which emotion was going to win out, which
made her all the more exciting. Sirens, for the most part, kept their physical
appearance at a five. On a scale of one to ten, a five meant that you were
clearly above average but not to the point that a person would literally sell a
kidney and spleen in order to sleep with you.
No, the selling of body parts came at six.
Seven meant they were willing to commit a crime and sell
body parts.
Eight was when they neared the wailing stage. I typically called
it bartering, where they asked what they could possibly do in order to gain
just one taste, anything, anything at all!
Nine was a rarity. I was a nine when I was tired, when I
wanted a piece of ass from someone hot, and I didn’t want to make a big fuss
over it. But a nine was dangerous because showing myself at a nine made it
easier to wipe the individuals’ memories. Meaning I was more than likely
cursing them to a life where they would never settle down because they’d be
stuck comparing me to some sad human male with a beer gut, and he’d always fall
short.
Even the Toms fell short.
Tom Brady.
Tom Hardy.
You get the picture.
In my entire existence, I’ve pulled a nine maybe four times.
And each time I felt regretful — after all the sex had never been worthy of
ruining some pathetic human’s chance at love.
And tens?
Tens weren’t done. To become a ten in front of a human would
be the equivalent of a human discovering the sweetest tasting sin, the most
physical and emotional ecstasy known over and over again. Add that in with good
looks that made women, men, plants, atoms — you get the picture — full-on weep,
and it just wasn’t done.
Never.
In fact, some might say it was forbidden.
I’d never been tempted.
Until five minutes ago.
I was currently at an eight, flirting with a ten, and she’d
finally succumbed enough to fall to her knees, but when she glanced up, she
blinked a few times then stood. “Sorry, I don’t know what happened.”
The hell?
I did a double take, my eyes narrowing as she shuddered
before me, but still, nothing. No weeping. No sudden burst of adoration.
Nine, here I come.
I exhaled as I allowed my hair to go pure gold and my eyes
to turn a shade of amber that looked like a never-ending ring of fire around my
blue iris. I released waves of energy that I could see pulsing from my body
with each exhale, and I was aware that she was being assaulted with my scent, a
mixture of rain, fresh air, and finally a deep sweet chocolate.
The most addicting scents known to mankind.
The most cleansing scents to a human.
Her eyes widened as she gulped and then squeezed them shut
and covered her face with her hands, her knees knocked together as she swayed.
“Open your eyes, human!”
“I-I’d rather not,” she said in a weak voice.
“Now!” The walls of the room shook causing a shriek to
explode between her lips, and suddenly she was moving towards me and launching
her plump body into the air.
Directly onto mine.
Mine.
My body.
Without any other option, I braced myself for her impact. Not
that she could physically harm me, it was more of a mental brace of, oh shit
the woman might be plump, but she moved with the speed of a torpedo.
I caught her in my arms.
The shaking stopped.
Her hands clung to the front of my shirt, her breathing was unsteady,
her body sweaty, hot, and curvy.
I appreciated all types of beauty.
Even hers.
I would have preferred a small mate, one that I could
terrify into submission — one I had no risk of falling in love with.
Because a siren in love — was a dangerous thing.
And a part of me wondered if that was what Cassius had
planned all along. In order for me to be at my strongest, I needed to be in
love.
Something I’d never experienced in all of my years of
living, screwing, and toying with males and females alike.
“What.” I gave her a menacing glare. “The hell, do you think
you’re doing?”
“I’m scared of earthquakes,” she whispered, licking her lips
repeatedly until I thought I was going to go mad with the motion of her tongue
sliding across the pink of her mouth. “Terrified, actually.”
“This is Seattle.” I was still holding her, for reasons
beyond my realm of understanding.
“They say the next earthquake is going to be really big and
half of downtown is going to slide into the Puget Sound, so excuse me for being
scared!”
“And you live downtown?”
“Well… no.” Her brown eyes focused in on mine.
“Then you must visit there often?”
“No.”
I sighed impatiently. “So your fears are completely
unfounded and illogical. Simply stop fearing it.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“I tire of holding you, human.” The lie fell easy; in fact,
I had forgotten I was holding her until she fidgeted in my arms like she was
the offended party, when I was the one who had just been assaulted. “The only
thing you need to fear is me.”
“Because you…” She sighed. “You’re going to sacrifice me?”
I tried to hold the laugh in.
But it was all too ridiculous.
“Yes.” I nodded seriously, my lips twitching with the urge
to smile. “The process will be painless. I’ll tie your hands and feet to the
bedposts — strip you naked, and then plunge an immortal sword into your heart.
You’ll need to repeat the words ut animam meam and then once you drink my blood
— if it accepts you, you will live.”
Her face paled as she struggled to get out of my arms.
And then I lost it, dropping her back to her feet, laughing
so hard I felt my body shook with it.
“I don’t even remember the phrase!” Her wild eyes darted
between me and the bed, clearly not catching on. Joke. It was a joke.
“Well,” I lifted a shoulder and shrugged. “Then I guess you
die.”
“But—”
“Better do it quickly, less pain that way.”
“What about the plants?”
My smile froze. “Either you’re extremely simple minded or
mentally ill. What the hell are you talking about?”
“The—” She tugged at her low ponytail. “The plants, you
know, around the grounds. I take care of them and Cassius—” Her eyes lit up.
“Cassius said I was getting a promotion, so sorry, but you can’t kill me.”
I grinned. “Okay.”
She frowned.
I was still confused how she was shielding herself from my
essence, but already I was mentally drained from the energy it took to get her
to worship me — instead I returned to my normal everyday state and held out my
hand.
She stared at it.
“Take my hand.”
“No.” She swallowed. “I think I’ll just wait for Cassius.”
“He’s already mated.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not mating him.”
“No.” This, this was my favorite part, watching humans try
to logically put together all of the pieces of the puzzle only to realize their
brains were too small to comprehend the different parts they held, the angles,
the colors, “You’re going to mate with me.”
I expected her to cry.
Maybe throw something.
Instead, she froze and then with a scream ran head first
directly into my body sending me sailing backward against the marble floor.
I was caught unaware.
Meaning, I barely had time to stop myself before my head
slammed back against the hard ground.
She tried to run toward the door.
“Cat and mouse.” I sighed from my position on the ground. “I
always did like foreplay.”
She jerked against the doors with fervor, I’d give her that,
but they wouldn’t budge.
Not until she was mine.
Not until the doors sensed my blood running through her
veins.
“Why won’t it open?” Her voice was strangled as pieces of
her hair fell out of its restraint and brushed against her shoulders. “You
can’t keep me here forever.”
“I can.” I yawned. “I will.”
Haven’t read this series yet?
The Dark Ones
(Book One)
FREE
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Untouchable Darkness
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About the Author
Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal,
and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When
she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting
her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son,
and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!
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