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  Table of Contents

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  About Amor Meus

  Title Page

  Foreword by Nial Aquila

  ~ SOUTHAMPTON SWINDLE ~

  About Southampton Swindle

  Praise for Southampton Swindle

  Southampton Swindle Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  ~ BROKEN PROMISE ~

  About Broken Promise

  Praise for Broken Promise

  Broken Promise Title Page

  Broken Promise

  ~ VALE ~

  About Vale

  Praise for Vale

  Vale Title Page

  Vale

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  The next book in the Blood Stone Series

  About the Author

  Other books by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  Copyright Information

  About Amor Meus

  For readers who love the spicy vampire series, Blood Stone, and by reader and reviewer request, the collected tales of Nathanial and Sebastian in one volume.

  Southampton Swindle

  Liars are in need of good allies.

  Southampton, 1786: Since being tossed from his ancestral family home at thirteen and falling in with a swindler, Sebastian has been fighting to preserve life and limb any way he can. While ingratiating himself with Lady Wandsworth and her thousands of pounds, Sebastian meets another roguish charmer, Nathanial, and at his side, the pretty but deadly Anne. Sebastian’s world is abruptly changed as he is introduced to imagination-defying ideas and is snared in an international swindle involving the Queen of France’s diamond necklace.

  Sebastian is drawn to Nathanial and his worldly, experienced ways, until Anne reveals the truth about him and the necklace…

  ___

  As always Tracy pulls out stops so we can’t quite work out who’s done what, just when I thought I knew what and who was to blame things changed.—Jeannie Zelos Book Reviews.

  Broken Promise

  While Nial, Winter and Sebastian are on their honeymoon, Nial relates the story of how he once lied and broke his promise. In his own words, Nial describes the horrors of war, and the tangled ideals of loyalty, while revealing the conflict he feels over the long existence of a vampire and the much shorter but sweeter life of humans – especially one of his most favourite humans, Sebastian.

  A short story filled with anger, remorse...and love.

  ___

  Love love loved it. Now that the past as been revealed I am ready for the future!

  Vale

  The world is reeling, recovering from the global conflict of World War II. Sebastian comes home to Nial and peace, only to find that Nial is up to his old schemes and manipulations.

  Over the next twenty years, they live, love and try to figure out how to merge an endless life with human demands. In the late 1960s when Vietnam protesting is at its peak, Sebastian’s need to be human and Nial’s outsider’s perspective clash…and the clash is fatal.

  A short story filled with love and regret…and endings.

  ___

  I love how Tracy makes these side books that explains the characters from the past books... Awesome backgrounds on the characters...LOVED it.

  The special collection features a foreword by Nial Aquila himself.

  READER ADVISORY: This paranormal collection features two hot, sexy alpha heroes. There is explicit and frank sexual language and heart-stopping sexual scenes between the aforementioned sexy heroes. Don't proceed beyond this point if hot love scenes offend you.

  No vampires were harmed in the making of this story.

  ___

  This book is part of the Blood Stone Series

  Blood Stone 1.0: Blood Knot (#1 Amazon Best Seller, Fantasy Romance)

  Blood Stone 1.5: Amor Meus (Blood Drops Collection)*

  Blood Stone 2.0: Blood Stone

  Blood Stone 3.0: Blood Unleashed

  Blood Stone 3.5: Blood Drive – Blood Stone Boxed Set 1

  Blood Stone 4.0: Blood Revealed

  Blood Stone 5.0: Blood Ascendant

  [*Blood Drops are short and novella length stories featuring the characters and situations in the Blood Stone series. Droplet sized morsels for your reading pleasure.]

  These are continuing characters and storylines. Reading the series in order is strongly recommended.

  An Historical MM Vampire Romance Collection

  Foreword by Nial Aquila

  Los Angeles, Present Day

  I don’t like to talk about my past.

  As a breed, vampires are generally reticent about their personal history and not because of any great secrets or mystical nonsense that will dilute their power. On the contrary, vampire lives are usually long, heartless and have a mind-numbing quality of sameness that can erode the spirit, if you let it.

  The real reason a vampire won’t speak of his yesterdays is because if he has managed to claw any semblance of happiness out of his existence, then that happiness is usually short-lived. It is a fact that vampires cannot escape their human heritage. Even though the practice is not encouraged, vampires will insist on gravitating toward humans and falling in love. Humans, as we keep learning the hard way, have short lives. Happiness doesn’t last.

  Dredging up stories of wonderful times long gone is painful and always forces you to compare this day with those days. The comparison is often depressing. So vampires shy from remembering better days.

  Unlike many vampires who have withered and all but perished, I have been extraordinarily fortunate. I made the same mistake that every other vampire I have ever known has made. I loved a human. I can’t blame inexperience for my error. I was well beyond my first millennium when I met Sebastian, but I fell in love anyway. That is where my good fortune began. Sebastian would be a part of my life for nearly two hundred years, before my foolishness caught up with me. I paid a heavier toll than most for my mistake.

  It doesn’t matter that the mistake corrected itself fifty-five years later. Those long, intervening years were miserable ones, where I was forced to relearn the quality of loneliness that marks so many of our lives.

  Because I was so lucky, because I was a fool and made mistakes, and because I have learned to appreciate love in all its forms, I am putting aside my distaste for talking about my past and sharing with you the story of amor meus—my love, Sebastian.

  Nathanial Aquila Valerius Aurelius

  ~ SOUTHAMPTON SWINDLE ~

  About Southampton Swindle

  By reader and reviewer request, the story of Nathanial and Sebastian and how they met.

  Liars are in need of good allies.

  Southampton, 1786: Since being tossed from his ancestral family home at thirteen, and falling in with a swindler, Sebastian has been fighting to preserve life and limb any way he can. While ingratiating himself with Lady Wandsworth and her thousands of pounds, Sebastian meets another roguish ch
armer, Nathanial, and at his side, the pretty but deadly Anne. Sebastian’s world is abruptly changed as he is introduced to imagination-defying ideas and is snared in an international swindle involving the Queen of France’s diamond necklace.

  Sebastian is drawn to Nathanial and his worldly, experienced ways, until Anne reveals the truth about him and the necklace….

  Praise for Southampton Swindle

  It’s a fun read, very set in the 1700′s and is a sort of period “who dunnit” novel. As always Tracy pulls out stops so we can’t quite work out who’s done what, just when I thought I knew what and who was to blame things changed. Of course as its how the two men met there’s some hot, sexy love scenes too….A great fill-in book, wrapped up in a diverting story.—Jeannie Zelos Book Reviews.

  This little read was a fun way to fill in the gaps of Nathanial and Sebastian’s story. While I don’t usually like historical paranormal romance, I will always make exceptions for this author. I love this series and would eagerly gobble up even more from this world. I can’t wait to see what else the author has lined up!—Carrie Reads A Lot

  Chapter One

  East Park, Southampton, England, 1786 A.D. Late summer.

  Sebastian forced himself to pick up Lady Mercy Wandsworth’s soft, lace-encased hand and lean over it, his other hand resting on top, as if he would dare more if only the circumstances in which they found themselves were not quite so public. “I have received news,” he murmured. “A letter. Jonathan smuggled it out of the prison. He is in most dire straits, my lady.”

  Her big eyes widened underneath the huge bonnet she wore, despite the watery sun and cool day. “Oh, my dear Richard. Your friend is suffering! This is terrible.”

  Sebastian nodded gravely. “Of all Jonathan’s friends, he chose to communicate with me. I cannot betray his trust and hope in me.”

  Lady Wandsworth let her parasol tilt backwards as she looked up at him. Her companions, two matrons and a maiden that Sebastian had not met and didn’t know were standing to one side of the wide footpath, watching avidly as he, a supposedly well-off bachelor, spoke in public to Southampton’s most recent and wealthiest widow. He barely glanced at them. Instead he poured all his attention upon the woman whose hand he still held, despite the proprieties. Lady Wandsworth herself gave him a warm smile. “May I see the letter?” she asked.

  Sebastian reached into his cutaway coat and withdrew the letter he had spent the last evening writing, folding and sealing, then soiling and aging it to look like it had been passed through many hands on its way from the completely fictitious prison in Spain. “I would not have you touch such a filthy communique, my lady,” he said, showing her the outside of the letter.

  She pressed her fingertips to her mouth in growing horror. “Oh my…is that dark patch…is that…?”

  Sebastian nodded. “It has dried, my lady. Someone—perhaps even Jonathan—spilled blood in order that this letter reach me. I cannot leave him in that place for a moment longer. I must help him, but…” He gave her a modest, almost embarrassed glance. “I do not know how I might do that.”

  She was scanning the letter avidly. “He speaks of his affairs in the letter, Richard?”

  “In passing,” Sebastian said off-handedly. “He begs me to help him move his business concerns out of Spain, but that is all. He sounds ill, my Lady. I do not know how much longer he might last in that wretched place.”

  One of the women standing patiently to the side giggled. It was a light, breathy sound, muffled behind a gloved hand.

  Sebastian wanted to scowl, but kept his gaze upon the lady Wandsworth and his expression woebegone.

  “Nathaniel! Oh, my goodness. You’re here!” The exclamation was almost fevered in its intensity, drawing Lady Wandsworth’s attention away from Sebastian. He sighed within, and turned to face the newcomer with a pleasant smile.

  The man had his back to him. He was bending over the hand of the maiden while the two matrons fluffed and fluttered on either side of her. The maid, Sebastian realized belatedly, was rather beautiful in a young, dimple-cheeked and creamy skin way. She had abundant dark mahogany curls cascading beneath the straw sun hat she wore, which the blue ribbons complemented nicely.

  She turned to the women on either side of her, glancing at them. “Madam Beauchamp, Lady Allsworth, may I present to you my fiancé, Nathanial Smythington, the Earl of Beechwood?”

  The earl gave both matrons a courtly nod of the head and they fanned themselves, clearly flustered.

  Sebastian chewed the inside of his cheek to stop from laughing aloud.

  The maid, whose name he still did not know, caught at the earl’s elbow and turned to Lady Wandsworth. “Lady Mercy,” she said. “It is my honor and delight to present Nathaniel to you. Nathaniel, this is Lady Mercy Wandsworth, the dowager Duchess of Pembroke.”

  The earl had turned to face Lady Wandsworth and Sebastian got his first look at the blighter.

  He wasn’t at all what Sebastian had expected. Sebastian had assumed a belted earl would be well into middle age and hunting for a suitable wife to carry on the family line. This fellow looked to be somewhere in his thirties – perhaps close to Sebastian’s own thirty one years. He was extraordinarily handsome, with very clear, very blue eyes and glossy black hair that shone in the weak sunlight. He smiled as he took Lady Wandsworth’s hand and bowed over it, giving her what Sebastian was quite sure was intended to be a knee-weakening smile.

  “Lady Wandsworth, you have been so kind in taking care of my fiancé while I was in France. I hope Beatrice has been entertaining you?”

  Lady Wandsworth gave a warm smile of her own in return. “Beatrice is a most agreeable companion. It has been a delight to have her stay in my home. The halls do not echo quite as loudly while she is with us.”

  Smythington turned to Sebastian and held out his hand. “Nathaniel Smythington,” he said shortly. “I don’t know you.”

  Sebastian took his hand automatically and squeezed. There was power to spare in the man’s grip. Somewhere under the snug-fitting coat and breeches, he had muscle.

  “Richard Laurier,” Sebastian said just as shortly. “The Lady Wandsworth and I are acquaintances.”

  “You were in France, Smythington?” one of the matrons asked, stepping around Beatrice so she could look at him. “Did you hear anything about the trial?”

  The trial. Sebastian hid his impatience. The newspapers had been trumpeting about the Queen of France’s necklace and the plot to steal it for nearly a week.

  Smythington smiled broadly again, showing very white and even teeth. “I did indeed hear something. The necklace has mysteriously disappeared.”

  “Gone?” the two woman echoed, gasping.

  “It is missing,” Smythington confirmed. He leaned toward them a little and lowered his voice. “I heard that it might even be somewhere here in England.”

  They looked at each other, aghast and delighted at this latest snippet of news.

  Smythington turned back to Lady Wandsworth, making Sebastian grit his teeth. “It has been a very deep pleasure to meet you, Lady Wandsworth. Would you mind if I stole Beatrice for an hour or two? I have not seen her for many weeks, and a stroll about the park will let me reacquaint myself with the virtues of my bride-to-be.”

  “I don’t know…” Lady Wandsworth said slowly. “It would not be seemly—”

  “Laurier can be our chaperone. What say you, Laurier? Care to take a turn about the park?” The last was directed at Sebastian, with a smile. The man’s blue eyes were guileless and friendly.

  Sebastian couldn’t refuse without looking downright churlish. It was a perfectly reasonable request. “I would be pleased to accompany you,” he said stiffly and turned to pick up Lady Wandsworth’s hand one more time. “Thank you so much for your thoughtfulness, my lady. I will speak to you on another occasion.”

  “Make it soon, Richard,” she replied, her fingers squeezing his. “I am most anxious to know about your friend.”

  T
he three ladies turned and began to stroll along the path, all in a row, while the earl tucked his fiancé’s hand under his elbow and faced the opposite direction. Feeling very much like an unwanted appendage, Sebastian walked behind them, trying to contain his seething frustration. This Nathanial fellow had put a stopper on three weeks of careful work upon Lady Wandsworth.

  He was looking down at his fiancé now, studying her.

  She dropped her hand from his elbow and glanced at Sebastian before saying to her finance: “He has a friend in a Spanish prison, who wants his business interests moved out of Spain. Presumably before any Spanish authorities seize them.” Her tone was withering, her recitation dry. It was a most unexpected expression, coming from such a young miss. What did she know of such matters?

  Smythington steered her off the path, crossing the well-trimmed grass to a mighty oak spreading its summer foliage across the green. He stepped underneath the canopy and turned to face Sebastian, who was forced to follow. As soon as he was close enough for speech, Smythington spoke, his friendliness evaporating.

  “You’re hunting Lady Wandsworth,” he said flatly. “Or, I should say, her sixty thousand pounds.”

  Sebastian held back his surprise. “I assure you, sir—”

  Smythington rolled his eyes. “Come, come. There is no friend in prison. I warrant the prison itself does not exist. In the next few days, once you have enticed her with the idea of getting her hands on…what? Several more thousands of pounds that are as fictitious as the prison, you will artfully coax her into spending a few thousand pounds of her own on bribes, and expenses that need to be raised in order to shift the prisoner’s business affairs out of Spain. Then a week or so later, when your imaginary friend is at the point of death, you will beg her for a few thousand more in order to secure his escape. That will be the last she will see of her money, while you will disappear over the nearest horizon.”