Blood Dragons deftly blends elements of paranormal thriller and passionate
romance… A character-driven, sizzling-hot saga” –
Midwest Book Review
In a divided paranormal London, Light is the rebel bad boy vampire of
the Blood Lifer world, with a photographic memory. And a Triton
motorbike. Since Victorian times he’s hidden in the shadows with
Ruby – a savage Elizabethan Blood Lifer. She burns with destructive
love for Light. But he’s keeping a secret from her, which breaks
every rule. When she discovers the truth, things take a terrifying
Fever and Blood Dagger Brotherhood take a deep breath and dive into the spellbinding secret world of
“INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE MEETS TRUE BLOOD”
tempted by his desire and the danger, even though their romance is
forbidden. When the two worlds collide, it could mean the end. For
questions whether he should be slaying or saving the humans he’s
always feared. What dark revelations will Light reveal at the heart
of the experiments? Will he be able to stop them in time? The
consequences of failure are unimaginable. Unless Light plays the part
of hero, he risks losing everything. Including the two women he
or tear it apart.
monsters, it’s a dangerous game to love your Mistress. “Tragic,
triumphant, addictive…this is a novel everyone should read” –
Readers’ Favorite 5*
Blood Lifer world, with a talent for remembering things. And a Triton
motorbike. Since Victorian times he’s been forced to hide in the
shadows. But not now. Not since someone hunted him down. When he’s
bought by his Mistress, Light fights to escape. If he doesn’t,
he’ll never solve the conspiracy behind the Blood Club.
like he’s a pair of designer shoes. So why does Light feel so drawn
to her? Especially when his family is still in chains. Will he risk
everything – even his new love – to save them?
Light to an inconceivable truth. To the dark heart of the Blood Club.
If he can face his worst terrors, he can save his family and whole
species from slavery.
– will be burnt at the stake in fourteen days. In a hidden,
paranormal London, he’s been branded a traitor and terrorist
Renegade – a Blood Lifer hunter of human slavers.
Yet when her life converges with Light’s, she’s enticed by the
dark and glory of his world.
perilous intrigue. Soon he’s in a race against time to transform
into the true leader vital to save his family, home and love. But
will he be able to judge predator from prey?
Rice and leave you wanting more”- Gothic
Johns is not only a refreshing new voice in this genre, she excels
it. Her vampires are edgy, titillating and enticing” – Rockchick
Dragons and Blood Shackles – the compelling Rebel Vampires
series. Blood Renegades is the thrilling third installment.
spellbinding worlds, thrilling action, gripping suspense and
passionate romances, all uniquely told.
She wrote her first fantasy novel at the age of ten, when she discovered
the weird worlds inside her head were more exciting than double
swimming. Since then she’s studied history at Oxford University,
run a theatre company (her critically acclaimed plays have been
described as “uncomfortable, unsettling and uneasily true to
life”), and worked with disability charities.
onto the page, she heads the Oxford writing group Dreaming Spires.
The bloke was leaning against a humungous gleaming finger up to the sky, which they call the Shard.
He would be – the tosser.
I shoved my hands into my pockets, as I swaggered up behind him.
When I tapped him on the shoulder, he jumped a bleeding mile. He could barely have been authored: no instincts at all.
When he spun round, peepers narrowed, I saw he was a kid. A bloody Emo: skull patterned hoodie, black and white striped socks and matching scarf. Even a t-shirt with cartoon vampire: cute fangs and bat wings.
Perfect – he had a sense of irony too.
Emo flicked his long black fringe, which was sprayed green like a mouldy skunk; his peepers were rimmed with enough eyeliner for one too.
Then Emo crossed his arms and tapped his foot, as if I’d been the one who’d been caught out being a bad boy.
And yeah, I was bloody bad but I’d proved I was no boy.
I frowned. ‘Who the bleeding hell are you?’
Emo just smirked.
That did it. No more Mr Nice Light.
‘Look, you pain in my arse, why were you watching us? Can you talk to me or do you have to go get your daddy first?’
The Emo’s smirk widened. Then he head-butted me.
Crack – there went my nose.
Hand strikes – one, two, three – so rapid I didn’t have time to think more than: Emo kids knocking the stuffing out of you with Kenpo Karate? Now that’s not something you see every day.
I choked on the pain blazing in hot shocks where his small hand sliced.
No more Mr Nice Light? All right then.
I grabbed the end of Emo’s stripy scarf and twisted. His turn to choke.
Gasping, Emo hesitated – my in.
Because here’s the thing: I know karate too. And the moment Emo realised it?
I slammed an elbow strike, followed by swift knife-hands, driving Emo crashing back against the glass Shard. It trembled. He kicked my legs; I gritted my teeth but didn’t lose ground. Close now, I went for a flurry of strikes, until all I could hear was his soft grunts and the hit of flesh on flesh.
I’d missed this: fists and fangs. You can’t tame a predator – and I’ve never pretended to be a hero.
Battering that cartoon vampire with its ironic batwings?
Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.