Love is dangerous. Life is fleeting. And the choices we make
can last an Eternity.
On a photo shoot in Cairo, lovelorn American model Nash Sommers
harbors a secret lust for his handsome and confident colleague Ryan
Thomas. When a drunken evening leads them to Cairo's coolest
nightclub, the two young men decide to explore the undiscovered
pleasures of their relationship with the inclusion of a third party—a
handsome, mysterious young Egyptian who lures them away from the
nightclub...
...and into the dark realms of the City of the Dead.
There, deep within a secret tomb, Nash's languishing lust for Ryan
will be put to the ultimate test in the presence of a dark and ancient
Egyptian vampire, the evil Ramseth. Will the young Americans be
seduced by sin? Will passion and pride lead to eternal punishment?
Will the one thing Nash desires most be his doom?
Excerpt:
The secret stone doorway slid away from the wall, and the
black chasm it revealed actually exhaled, like the last breath of a
dying man—or the first breath of a dead man revived.
Nash and Ryan jumped back with a fright, inches before their lips had
a chance to lock.
The light and sounds of the city had faded away as they followed
Saabir through the labyrinth that made up the long forgotten corners
of the City of the Dead, a maze of high walls built from ancient
stones, where shadows gobbled up the light cast by the moon. And the
cats—still so many of them—shot by silently out of the corners of
Nash’s eyes.
Eventually they had stopped, and Saabir leaned his back against a
rough stone wall. “This is the place,” he whispered.
It was more than apparent to Nash that Ryan took those words to mean
this was the place where their passions could finally be unleashed,
unseen and uninterrupted. Within moments, Ryan had one arm around
Saabir’s waist and one wrapped around the back of Nash’s neck, pulling
him closer and closer, lips parted, mouth watering. Nash himself let
one trembling hand caress the ball of Saabir’s shoulder, while the
other dared to venture down the front of Ryan’s shirt, feeling the
heaving, hardened muscle and flesh beneath, twisting the buttons
undone one at a time with his quivering, sweating fingertips.
Meanwhile, the quiet, seductive Saabir—the beautiful Egyptian who had
silently won their attention across the noisy, crowded bar with his
steadfast stare, the man whose backward glances had lured them through
the streets of Cairo to the City of the Dead, his glimmering green
eyes like beacons in the night—smiled as he watched the two handsome
Americans touch and paw at his and each other’s bodies.
