You Are Perfect Just As You Are.
Because Love Sees No Gender.™

Guest Book ♥ Dakota

by Vicktor Alexander
The Sevion Brotherhood, 1
Cover Artist: Deana C. Jamroz
Paranormal, M/M, Erotic Romance
April 11th 2014

When Dr. Dakota Sevion is drawn to his mate Nishon Moore at the hospital where he works, he is overjoyed, even though Nishon has a son, Isaiah, who is a forziq, which is an instant death sentence and someone from the past is determined to kill them all.

Dakota Sevion loves being the Chief of Surgery at Gelreen Memorial Hospital, because he has unlimited access to blood which is good for him as an unmated vampire. When he’s called to the ER for an emergency his life changes forever.

Nishon “Nimo” Moore is a single father of three year old Isaiah, a very special little boy, and when Nimo rushes to the hospital because Isaiah has been hurt he ends up meeting Dakota and finding out that vampires are real. He doesn’t handle it well, which isn’t good for Dakota who will die from starvation if their mating isn’t consummated soon. But that isn’t the only problem. Someone from the past is set on killing them all.

MLR Books * ARe

Dakota Sevion walked down the hallway of Gelreen Memorial Hospital, where he was the Chief of Surgery, while chewing a stick of spearmint gum. His cup of Starbucks Vanilla Latte was clutched firmly in one hand while his other was shoved in the pocket of his white coat, fiddling with his car keys as he thought of the surgery he’d just completed. He wasn’t as arrogant as his eldest brother, Arizona, but even he had to admit he’d totally rocked that surgery.

“Doctor Dakota Sevion, please come to the Emergency Room, bed seven,” a voice came over the intercom and Dakota stopped in his tracks.

Dammit. I really wanted to get a nap.

Turning around and throwing his cup of coffee in the nearest trash bin, and spitting out his gum as well, Dakota headed for the Emergency Room. He waved to a few patients who lay in their hospital beds and high fived a couple of the doctors and interns on his way through the Emergency Room. Before stepping into the chaos that he knew awaited him, Dakota stopped to wash his hands and pull on a pair of gloves. He started walking towards bed seven when his body jerked abruptly and he was pulled by an invisible force. He glanced around and hoped no one noticed that he seemed to be gliding an inch above the floor before he came to a shuddering halt, right in front of the most gorgeous man Dakota had ever seen in his entire life.

Tall, with a swimmer’s build, skin like milk chocolate, curly black hair, a thin nose with wide nostrils and full lips that made Dakota want to bend down and take them in a hard, bruising kiss. This man, his mate, his sufletul pereche, was standing right in front of him, staring down at someone in the bed. Dakota peered down and noticed that it was a child… a young child that looked a lot like his mate. He cleared his throat.

His mate jumped back.

“Oh! Wow, I didn’t notice you were standing so close to me. I’m sorry.” The man shook his head. Dakota’s ears rang with the beauty of the man’s beautiful tenor voice and he wanted to sit and listen to him talk all day. “You must be the doctor. Duh, Nimo, of course he’s the doctor, he’s wearing a white coat.”

Dakota smiled when his mate, “Nimo” started to chastise himself. Who named their child Nimo? Then again, who was he to talk? His parents, Decebal and Adelina Sevion had named each of their children after the state in which they were born or conceived in. There was Arizona, the oldest, by and far the scariest of the ten of them, then there were the twins, Jersey and Michigan, though they looked just alike and could mind speak with each other, they were as different as night and day. After the twins there was Carolina, then Washington, Tennessee, Kansas, Colorado, Utah, and finally him, the baby of the family, Dakota. They also had three sisters, Daciana, Oana, and Tatiana who their parents doted on, but none of them were named after any states. A fact they were constantly teased about from their older brothers.

“Yes, I’m the doctor, actually, I’m the Chief of Surgery here, Doctor Dakota Sevion,” Dakota said, holding out his gloved hand.

Nimo glanced down at his gloved hand and then arched a beautifully sculpted eyebrow. Dakota looked down and yanked the glove off, before holding his hand out again.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

Nimo chuckled. “It’s no problem. I’m Nishon Moore, but everyone calls me Nimo, and this is my son, Isaiah Moore. I call him Zay. He’s three and his daycare called me to tell me that he fell and cut his forehead on the teacher’s desk.”

Dakota nodded. Nimo seemed very calm which was good; most parents were hysterical when their young children were brought in with head wounds since they bled so much. When Dakota walked around he realized why Nimo wasn’t so alarmed. There was a piece of the teacher’s desk embedded in the wound, which was currently acting as a clot for the gash, but it was also contaminating the wound.

Dakota looked up at Nimo and offered him a reassuring smile.

“I really don’t know why they called someone from the Chief of Surgery down here, it’s barely bleeding at all.”

Dakota nodded and gestured Nimo to him. He pointed at the clipboard where the test results lay. “That is because of the piece of wood from the teacher’s desk. It has lodged itself inside of the wound some way and because it’s preventing it from bleeding, I suspect that it might be buried into the lining of his brain, and that chips of the wood might even be lodged in his brain. That’s why I was called. I’m going to have to cut it out, which is going to cause it to bleed and then flush out the wound so that I can get a better look and make sure that it’s not something more serious than just being beneath the skin as the X-rays show. The tests they ran make it difficult to tell exactly how deep the piece of wood is. Regardless, Isaiah is going to need stitches and since this is a head trauma he’s going to need to be monitored for a concussion.”

Nimo’s eyes widened. His hand trembled as he turned to look at Zay who dozed fitfully, tears dried on his light brown cheeks. Glancing at the chart, Dakota saw that a nurse had just left the room after checking on Isaiah, asking him questions, and checking his vitals, and she stated in her notes that she informed Nimo to not let the little boy sleep completely, but allow him to rest. Dakota looked at the little boy and felt a feeling of possessiveness rise within him as a bond began to form between him, Nimo and Isaiah.

Things happened quickly with vampires. The bond began to form as soon as a vampire was within a mile of their sufletul pereche. He had two weeks, a fortnight, to complete the bond. The bond could only be completed through the exchange of blood during sex with the red eternity candle burning in the room which would cause the two halves of their souls to come together and form one whole, or else he would die from starvation. Dakota had heard tales of vampires who had been pulled to their mates only to find them married to someone else. The thirst for their mate’s blood drove them to insanity and they would bite and drink from everyone and everything that they could and never be satisfied. It led to the slaughter of many innocent people and unfortunately those who never completed their bond ended up dying at the end of their two weeks, their thirst never quenched.

As Dakota hit the button to request a nurse’s attendance, he looked over at Nimo and wondered if he would end up as others had before him.

“Yes, Doctor Sevion?” the nurse, Dakota scanned her nametag, Regina, asked as she stepped between the curtains.
“Call upstairs and book an O.R. for Isaiah Moore, we’ll be heading up to remove a bit of wood from the gash on his forehead.”

“Right away, Doctor,” she told him, stepping back out. She was only gone for a second before she came back in with a team of orderlies, interns and nurses.

“Can I come with you?” Nimo asked, and Dakota’s nose burned with the acrid smell of the man’s fear.

“Of course,” Dakota said, ignoring the looks sent his way. “One of the nurses will help you make sure your hands are clean and you’re properly outfitted before you step into the room.”

“Thank you,” Nimo responded with a sigh and a small smile.

Dakota nodded and once again ignoring the nurses and orderlies he helped them get Isaiah ready for transport and then helped them push the bed into the hallway and headed for the elevator. He was consciously aware of Nimo the entire time and though his mind wanted to focus on his patient and on the procedure he was about to do, as routine as it was, his body was one-hundred percent in tune with his mate’s every breath and footstep.

When they stepped inside of the elevator, Dakota turned his overly large frame in the elevator to make room for Nimo to step inside and bit his lower lip to hold back the groan that threatened when his mate brushed against him. This was pure torture. Dakota determinedly turned his attention away from the delicious scent of his mate and the way the top of Nimo’s head came to his cheekbone. Or the way Nimo’s slim fingers were wrapped around the bedrail of his son’s bed and what they could possibly look like wrapped around Dakota’s fat cock. Instead he thought about cutting into the flesh of Isaiah’s forehead to pry out the chunk of wood that was embedded within it in order to pry it out.

The elevator came to a stop and Dakota turned and pushed the bed along with the rest of the nurses to the door of the operating room. He stopped at the door and turned to go into the area reserved for the surgeons. Pushing open the door, Dakota walked inside and stepped up to the sinks. Before he put his hands below the faucet he exhaled.

“I am so fucked,” he groaned.

“Why is that, baby bro?” Carolina asked, moving up beside Dakota.

Dakota jumped, surprised by his brother’s presence at his side. Carolina may have been much older than Dakota but they were extremely close, almost as if they were twins. Both of them were built like linebackers, and had in fact played football together at UNC, before Carolina had gone off to medical school first, Dakota going to a different medical school years later. While Carolina specialized in Obstetrics and Dakota specialized in Surgery, they still saw each other around the hospital all the time.

“I met my sufletul pereche today,” he told Carolina.

Carolina’s eyes widened. “Congratulations, bro! That’s awesome!”

Dakota nodded and then shook his head. “I’m not sure. I mean, He has a son.”

Carolina shrugged. “So? You’ve always wanted kids and it’s not like any of us were ever going to give Mom and Dad grandkids the old fashioned way.”

Dakota chuckled. Though their parents had told them all that they were okay with all ten of their sons being gay, Dakota knew they still held out hope that at least one of their sons would turn out to be bisexual, or turn around and announce he was just “experimenting” and going through “a phase.” So far that hadn’t happened.

“Yeah, poor Mom and Dad,” Dakota sympathized.

“So this would be a way to give them the grandchild they’ve been wanting to spoil for decades, hell, for centuries.”
“That’s the other thing,” Dakota said with a sigh of frustration as he realized that meeting his sufletul pereche had him so backwards that he’d washed his hands before he’d changed into his scrubs. He shook his head as he grabbed a pair of scrubs from the cabinet and walked behind the privacy screen in the corner to change into them. He stepped back out, walked over to the sink, started the water, and grabbed the soap to begin soaping his hands, being sure to scrub in between his fingers and all the way up his arms.

“What?” Carolina asked as he washed his hands and arms as well.

“He’s human,” Dakota said.

“Oh,” Carolina responded.

“Yeah, so after I find out if he’s single, I’m going to have to explain about the whole vampire, paranormal, mate, two week thing,” Dakota pointed out.

Carolina groaned. “And you have to do it soon.”

“And hope that he doesn’t think I’m saying it just to get sympathy from him in order to get him to agree to it.”
“Or that he thinks you’re completely crazy and takes off running.”

Dakota nodded. “Or does that.”

Carolina whistled. “Yeah, you are so fucked.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Carolina laughed. “Anytime, Dak, anytime.”

Hi all! I’m Vicktor Alexander but everyone calls me “Vic.” Southern gentleman by day, completely displaced and living in New York, and a writer and purveyor of steamy, sticky, hot man on man (sometimes on man on man on man on man on man) sex. I wrote my first story at the tender age of 10 about my youngest biological sister and her destruction of the world…with her breath. The stories didn’t stop there and it wasn’t long or much of a shock to those who knew me well, before I was writing interracial historical romances. I quickly realized that my heroes seemed much happier when they were hanging out with other guys (aren’t we all?) and that was when I discovered the M/M genre.

I now enjoy writing about shifters, humanoids, cowboys, firemen, rent boys, fairies, elves, dancers, doctors, Doms, Subs, and anything else that catches my fancy, all sexy men falling in love with each other and having lots of naughty, dirty, man-on-man sex. I am the author of the best-selling series, The Tate Pack (which still blows my mind) and am a huge fan of the “happily-ever-after” ending. But while all my characters all ride off into the proverbial sunset, all sexually satisfied and in love (because it’s the least I can do), they all bear the scars of fighting for that love, just like in real life. I am never satisfied with only one genre, and every book that I write tends to fall into more than one category and has each main character experiencing more than one orgasm.

Out and proud, I don’t believe that love only comes in one form, one race, one gender and that not only is gender fluid, by sexuality as well. I loves to make people laugh (and guys hot) and when I’m not writing, or rather, procrastinating in writing, I’m reading, playing the Sims 3, hanging out with my very supportive adopted family, talking to my adopted daughter whom I call Chipmunk, seeking the man or men who can handle my crazy, stressful, soap opera-esque life and being distracted from said writing by pictures of John Barrowman and Shemar Moore.

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