Few have seen the BlackGuard Society, yet they’re all around. When rogue paranormals threaten mankind, the BGS alone is our last line of defense.
Morgan Vladislav will one day lead the BlackGuard Society... if she can prove she’s worthy of the privilege. But the return of Alexander St. John to the French Quarter will be the ultimate test of her resolve. The rogue vampire has sired a new vampiress, whose bloodlust is leaving a crimson trail down Bourbon Street.
Agents Vladislav and Broussard are ready to spring into action and put a stop to the reign of terror inflicted by St. John and his new bride. To their great regret, the BGS insists the murderous pair are not to be touched.
Not one to sit idly by, Morgan puts Ace and her son, Colby, at risk by ignoring the rules and moving in on the attack. Will the dhampir’s recklessness be enough to put an end to the callous bloodsuckers? Or will Morgan’s rash behavior pit her against the BlackGuard?
SF Benson loves putting a spin on a story. She primarily writes romantic fantasy with unusual characters in unexpected circumstances. SF’s books feature diverse and strong characters who have to work hard to get to their happily ever after. Sometimes the playing field is fraught with supernaturals. Other times it might be a pervasive magic. No matter how you look at it, her characters know how to meet the challenge and get what they desire—love!
Published since 2016, SF has released sixteen books in five different series and has appeared in four anthologies! Under Nadirah Foxx, she’s written six books on the darker, steamier side of life.
Curious about what all SF Benson and her alter ego, Nadirah Foxx, might be up to? Check them out at https://www.authorsfbenson.com/.
The BlackGuard Society takes place during the Fall, but if you’re looking for heat, check out Club Sensualle. The temperature is tropical and the dancers are hot too!
Book Excerpt
Bloodshed
It was another typical Saturday night at Club Sensualle, a gentleman’s club in Crescent City’s Vieux Carré. The sounds of Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion’s WAP blared from the sound system, the bass vibrating off the crimson walls and ebony tables. From my vantage point behind the curtain, I watched the half-naked servers doling out drinks to the parasites in pervert row. Thankfully, my employer turned up the heat and kept us girls comfortable. Too bad, it pissed off the customers, but as long as the alcohol flowed, they’d be pleased.
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