Princess Fallen Read Online Helen Hardt

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance, Vampires Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 72056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)

She’s a reluctant vampire princess.
He’s an alpha werewolf…and a murder suspect.

Half-human Hannah Bates isn’t thrilled when her vampire king father orders her to seduce an alpha werewolf—a suspect in a recent murder—to gain his trust and then gather evidence against him. She’s a little less hesitant when she sees a photo of gorgeous Victor Rogan, but even though she must do as her father commands—her blood requires it—she still resists.
Victor Rogan finds the vampire princess intoxicating, and his reaction to her perplexes him. He doesn’t simply desire her. She’s his fated mate…at a time when fated mates among his people have become virtually non-existent. Hannah is no less mesmerized. She craves Victor’s body, his blood, even his love.

But danger and mystery lurk everywhere, and Hannah’s investigation may ultimately cost her much more than her heart.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************


If I had ten bucks for every time I’ve walked in on my father getting head from some young stud, I’d be a…

Okay, maybe not a millionaire, but richer than I am by a long shot.

I rap on the oak door. As vampire king, my father has the right to summon me whenever he pleases, and I’m bound to obey due to my cursed bloodline. It irks me to knock. Walking right in makes me feel like I possess a modicum of autonomy, however imaginary. Just that little bit of power makes the whole thing a little less…insulting.

But only a little. After seeing several scenes a daughter should never witness, I’ve learned to knock.

“Come in.” My father’s voice is breathy.

I open the door with caution. Today’s hunk sports a mane of golden hair, slanted leonine eyes, and killer biceps. I might go for him myself if he weren’t kneeling on the plush burgundy carpet while my father zips his fly.

I clear my throat. Vampires aren’t known for their modesty, but I’m his daughter, for God’s sake.

“Just a minute, Hannah,” my father says. “I’m a little busy.”

Patience is not one of my virtues.

“Yeah? I was busy when you told me to hightail it over here. Finish up and tell me what you want.”

He turns to face me, his dark vamp eyes clouded. “This is Justin. Justin, my daughter Hannah.”

“Charmed,” I say, not meeting the young man’s gaze.

He stands, leaves the room a bit sheepishly, and closes the door behind him.

“Well?” I regard my father, lifting my eyebrows.

People say I look like him. We have the same coloring—pale complexion, nearly black hair, brown eyes. He’s a good looking man for three hundred. No doubt he could get the studs he does even if he weren’t king. My sister is blond with blue eyes. I once asked my mother, who’s human, whether Larissa was truly my full-blooded sister. My mom swore up and down that she was always faithful to my father.

Too bad, since he cheated on her during most of their marriage. That mockery of a liaison ended when I was in my teens.

My father walks to his desk and motions to a chair. “Have a seat.”

“Thanks, but I’ll stand.”

“Suit yourself.” He sits down behind his desk, glances over some papers, and then returns his attention to me. “I hear you’re fond of cock.”

Let me clarify something. Yes, I have an extremely healthy libido for a human. By vamp standards, though, I’m considered frigid. Vampires have very high sex drives—they coincide with the blood lust—and most are naturally bisexual. Personally, I’ve never had a taste for women, but I’m only half vamp.

I scoff. “Well, I am my father’s daughter.”

“Save your attempt at humor, Hannah.”

I smile what I hope is a saccharine-sweet grin. “What attempt at humor?”

Dad crosses his arms. “Fine. Play it your way. I have a favor to ask.”

“Please tell me it doesn’t involve one of your crazy herbal injections.”

My father is a health nut. The vamp life span of five hundred years isn’t enough for him, apparently. He’s convinced he can add to it with herbal tinctures and infusions, and because I’m half human, he insists I need them to make it to two hundred and fifty. I’ve always shunned his so-called remedies, except for once. Last time I saw him, which was only three days ago, he convinced me to try an injection of yarrow and gingko biloba, claiming it would suppress my need for blood.

He knows how to hit me below the belt. To say I’m a reluctant vampire is an understatement. I’m constantly searching for ways to quell the desire for blood, so I willingly sat still for the treatment.

The blood lust continued to hit right on schedule. So much for Daddy’s herbs.

“No, not today,” he says. “I have an assignment for you.”


He ignores my sarcasm. Just as well.

“There’s been a threat to the Brotherhood. One of the lycans has allegedly aligned with a demon.”

“There’s always a threat to the Brotherhood,” I say. “And by the way, since I always play a huge role in taking care of all your perceived threats, shouldn’t we call it the Brother-Sisterhood?”

He blows off my query. Big surprise.

“The lycan in question is an alpha named Victor Rogan. He’s been linked to two vamp slayings in the past month.”

“Linked how?”

“His bite marks were found on the chests of both corpses.”

I should probably feel something. Two vampires dead. Despite my paternity, though, I don’t feel a connection to the Brotherhood. “So? Lots of vamps get bitten by weres and live to tell the tale. Lycans are hardly lethal to us.”

“They are when they literally eat our hearts out.”

This time chills slither along the back of my neck. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. The victims’ hearts were gone, and Rogan’s marks were all over them.”

“Still circumstantial.”