Cold Blood by Heather Hildenbrand Excerpt!

 

Cold Blood (Dirty Blood #2) by Heather Hildenbrand

Summary: Wood Point Academy is not at all what I expected. For one thing, it looks like a cross between military school and Buckingham Palace. Everyone stares, the floors shine so bright you can see your reflection in them from a mile away, and no one smiles. Unless they're kicking your butt in the process. Which happens more often than not for the freshman. Lucky for them, my presence has just stolen the spotlight, and they get a break from the daily joys of hazing. At least I've got plenty to take my mind off the fact that my psycho cousin, Miles De'Luca, keeps calling and declaring his love and promising to come for me just as soon as he's destroyed anyone standing in our way. Wes isn't going to like that idea. So between Miles, Wood Point's evil welcoming committee, and the drill sergeant hottie trainer from hell, I just keep asking myself, how did I end up here?

☆☆☆☆☆

Please enjoy an excerpt of the second installment to the Dirty Blood series!

“Oops, I didn’t see you there,” she said, her smile pasted on. She moved away, but not before I heard her turn to her minions and say, “you know dogs, always underfoot.”

My jaw fell open in surprise. For a moment, I was too stunned to react. Despite everything I’d already seen and heard that morning, no one had said anything to my face. Until now. I bit back on my temper as I watched her fade into the throng of moving bodies and disappear down the hall.

“Who was that?” I asked, concentrating on Logan’s face, and trying to resist the urge to run after the blond and take a chunk of that pretty hair out of her head. I balled my hands into fists and squeezed.

“Victoria Lexington,” said Logan in a tight voice. “Her father is on the Board for the school and a member of the Commission. Her mother does charity work for Hunter organizations.”

“Commission?” The words weren’t making sense, maybe because I wanted to take a bite out of Victoria Lexington’s face.

Logan raised an eyebrow underneath his baseball cap. “The Commission of Hunter Affairs and Security.” He spoke slowly, like he was speaking to a toddler. “You’ve seriously never heard of it?”

I shook my head.

“Wow. So you really weren’t told anything?”

“How do you know what I was told?”

Logan ducked his head, looking guilty. “It’s hard not to hear things." He gestured at the bodies around us.

I nodded. I could understand that.

We made our way past the large entrance doors and up the wide set of stairs I’d seen earlier. At the top was another hallway and in front of us, a set of heavy double doors, propped open. Through them I could see a large, open room with tables set in loose rows. Kids talked and laughed, their voices drifting out in a collective boom. Running the length of one wall sat a long counter lined with various food choices and kids browsing the entrée selections as they slid trays along towards the end.

“Come on,” said Logan, stepping through the doors and veering off to the right to join the buffet line.

I followed and fell in line behind him, taking the empty tray he offered. I pushed forward and stopped again, eyeing a steaming bin of chicken Alfredo that smelled as good as it looked. Next to it stood a simmering pot of vegetable soup, with rolls that looked shiny and freshly baked, instead of dull and browned, like my old high school’s version. The smell alone was enough to convince me that it was edible. I hesitated, craning my neck to see what was up ahead. My stomach growled.

A tray bumped into mine and I noticed a tanned arm holding the tray next to mine. My eyes traveled up, following the arm to the body it belonged to. It was the brown haired jock from my Defensive Maneuvers class; the one who’d thrown the rock. He was wearing a dark green jacket that was definitely school issued, for sports, and had that permanent wet-hair look you got from wearing too much gel.

To find out where you can read the next installment of Cold Blood, please visit www.heatherhildenbrand.blogspot.com.

☆☆☆☆☆

Dirty Blood by Heather Hildenbrand

Summary: I killed a girl last night. I did it with my bare hands and an old piece of pipe I found lying next to the dumpster. But that’s not the part that got me. The part that scared me, the part I can’t seem to wrap my head around and still has me reeling, was that when she charged me, her body shifted – and then she was a wolf. All snapping teeth and extended claws. But by the time I stood over her lifeless body, she was a girl again. That’s about the time I went into shock… And that was the moment he showed up.

And even now there are two thoughts that are so clear, they feel branded into my mind: One, Werewolves do exist, and two, I was born to kill them.