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Scanguards Vampires (Book 5 & 6)

Scanguards Vampires (Book 5 & 6)

Collectors edition: Exclusive hardcover box set with dust jacket and sexy hardcover laminate image, color interior images, digitally signed by the author.


658 pages

Regular price $48.99 USD
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⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ Lara Adrian, New York Times Bestselling Author of the Midnight Breed series: "I'm addicted to Tina Folsom's books! The Scanguards® series is one of the hottest things to happen to vampire romance. If you love scorching, fast-paced reads, don't miss this thrilling series!"

Zane's Redemption (Book 5)
The last thing vampire bodyguard Zane wants to do is to guard a hybrid, a half-vampire, half-human, whose father wants to keep her a virgin. Known for his violent temper and callous lack of compassion, Zane’s out-of-control rage, born of the cruelty he suffered during the Holocaust, drives him to focus only on revenge. Trying to find the last of his torturers is his only goal in life.

Portia is a young hybrid with a serious dilemma: in a few weeks, her body will be set in its final vampire form. If she is to avoid having to live out her immortal life as a virgin, she must find a lover in that short time–something her father hires Zane to prevent.

The moment Portia and Zane meet, rules begin to bend, and a forbidden attraction bursts into flames hotter than the hell of Zane’s past. But that past threatens to pull them apart unless they can overcome their prejudice, forsake hate for love, and revenge for forgiveness.

Quinn's Undying Rose (Book 6)
Vampire bodyguard Quinn has lived the last 200 years as a playboy trying in vain to forget the only woman he has ever loved: his human wife Rose, who he believes to be dead.

But Rose is very much alive. Now a vampire herself, she has lived in hiding from Quinn all of these years, having faked her death to hide from him a terrible secret—one she knows would drive him to kill her.

When a powerful and evil vampire threatens to destroy Rose’s—and Quinn’s— only living descendent, she has no choice but to come out of hiding and ask for Quinn’s help. As Quinn struggles with the shock of Rose’s reappearance, and they reunite to battle a common foe, they rekindle the flames of their past. But will the passion that reignites between them be enough to overcome the secret that separates them?

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Zane heard a scream and blocked it out to prolong feeding from the succulent neck of the Latino kid he’d cornered in an alley in the Mission, the predominantly Mexican and South American neighborhood of San Francisco. It was a sketchy area; on one hand, trendy restaurants and nightclubs attracted the rich residents from the north side of town, on the other, poor immigrants toiled in dead-end jobs for minimum wage. Yet somehow, Zane had instantly felt at home when he’d first set foot in the neighborhood.

As his fangs lodged deeper to draw more blood, Zane listened to the thundering heartbeat of his victim, fully aware of the power he had over the teenager’s life. If he took an ounce too much, the boy would bleed out, his heartbeat ceasing, his breath rushing from his lungs for the last time, leaving behind a lifeless shell.

It was how he liked to feed, not from a bottle of lifeless donated blood like his colleagues at Scanguards preferred, but from a human where he felt the life pulsing beneath his palms while the warm, rich blood coated his throat. There was no substitute for that feeling. It went beyond pure nourishment; it appealed to his need to feel superior, to be powerful, to be in control of the life in his arms.

Every night, the struggle to allow that life to continue renewed. Despite the fact that each night a different human was at his mercy, it changed nothing, and the battle inside him remained the same: to stop while the human was still alive, or to give in to the urge to destroy and assuage his need to avenge, for no matter whether he fed from a Latino kid, a black woman, or an Asian man, their faces were all the same once his memories of the past took possession of his mind. Their features morphed into those of a white man, his hair a dark blond, his eyes brown, and his cheekbones high: the face of one of his torturers, the only one he had failed to track down after chasing him for over sixty-five years. The only one he hadn’t slain—yet.

Zane noticed the change in pressure of the blood rushing through the kid’s veins, and withdrew his fangs from his neck. He quickly licked over the wound to close it and prevent any more blood loss as his fangs retracted back into their sockets, deep within his gums, satisfied for the moment. His own heart hammered furiously in his chest as he felt his victim slacken, but his ears picked up the faint heartbeat, assuring him that he hadn’t gone too far. He’d won tonight’s battle, but the restlessness he’d felt in the last few months was increasing and driving him to take more and more risks with his victims’ lives.

He’d come to San Francisco nine months ago on an assignment for Scanguards, the vampire-run bodyguard company that had employed him for several decades. The assignment had turned into a permanent stay. At first, he’d thought that the change of venue from New York to this quiet West Coast town that was frequently engulfed in fog would bring him peace, but the opposite was the case. The hunt for his torturer had stalled, then come to a dead end. With every day that passed after the trail had gone cold, that failure drove his anger and hatred higher. He needed to hurt somebody. Soon.

At a sound, Zane snapped his head to the side. He lowered the Latino kid to the ground, resting him against the wall of a building. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, concentrating on the distant voice he’d heard. Past the noise that indicated a vibrant nightlife, a low whimpering laced with fear and despair drifted to him. It was remote, but his sensitive vampire hearing identified it as a plea for help.


He shouldn’t have ignored the scream he’d heard earlier. He should have known that something was wrong. Both his vampire instincts and his training as a bodyguard told him as much. Without casting another glance at his victim, Zane charged out of the alley and headed for the origin of the sound. He hoped he wasn’t too late already.

A few drunks stumbled along the sidewalk, their incoherent mumbles temporarily blocking out the distressed sobs he was following. Had he lost the trail? Zane rocked to a halt at the next corner and forced his ears to concentrate. For a moment, everything was completely quiet, but then the sound returned and intensified his gut feeling that he was needed.

This time, the cry was accompanied by the low hissing voice of a man. “Shut up, bitch, or I’m gonna gut you.”

Instinct took over as Zane raced around the corner and into the driveway where two shabby apartment buildings converged. His superior night vision helped him assess the situation instantly: a man was forcing a young woman face down against a dumpster, holding a knife to her throat. His pants bunched at his knees, and his bare ass moved frantically back and forth as he raped her.

“Shit!” Zane leapt at him just as the man’s head turned, alerted by Zane’s curse.

His fangs lengthened in mid-flight, and his fingers transformed into sharp claws capable of ripping an elephant to shreds. Zane pried the rapist off his victim with one swoop, his claws digging into the guy’s shoulders, cleaving clear through his hoodie sweater.

The man’s scream was first surprise, then pain as Zane’s claws slashed deeper into his flesh. He relished the sound and dragged one hand, claws extended, through the entire width of his shoulder, tearing the flesh apart, rupturing muscle and nerve tissue. Blood spurted from the open wound, and the air became pregnant with its metallic scent. He flashed his fangs, making sure the asshole got a good look at them.

“Nooooo!” The desperate protest of his victim did nothing to stop Zane’s assault. Deliberately slowly, he allowed his other hand to tear through the muscles of the left shoulder, doing equal damage there. His arms dangling limp from his shoulders, the severed sinew and nerves not supporting their movement any longer, the rapist was defenseless.

At his mercy.

If Zane had had a heart, he would have ended it right there, but it was too late. One look at the frightened girl who gaped at him in horror, and his past took hold of him. Suddenly, the strawberry blond rape victim’s features with the terrified blue eyes became a face he knew so well, a face he’d not seen in decades, yet never forgotten.

Her dark brown hair curled at its ends and caressed her pale shoulders as it framed her young face. Her chocolate brown eyes looked up at him, innocence lost, begging him to help her, to save her. “Zacharias …” As her voice faded, he reached for her, but she backed away, petrified.

“Rachel,” he whispered. “Don’t be afraid.”

Zane became aware of the man struggling against him and tore his gaze from her. He would kill the man who was hurting her, hurting his little Rachel.

Zane tossed the rapist against a wall a few yards away, hearing the cracking of his ribs with utter satisfaction. When he crossed the distance to his victim, his steps were deliberate. He allowed his body to harden and enjoyed the horrified look in the man’s eyes. But he didn’t see the face of the rapist anymore. It had changed. He saw a dark blond man with brown eyes. And finally those eyes shone with fear and the knowledge that his time had finally run out. He was caught and would pay for his crimes tonight.

Without another thought, Zane slammed his claws into the man’s chest and sliced it open with the infallible precision of a man who’d performed this task before. Ignoring the bloodcurdling screams, he plunged his hands inside and spread his ribs. Blood spurted onto him, liberally gushing from the open chest. He inhaled the scent, the smell of life and death equally strong. Despite the fact that he’d only just fed, hunger surged, but it was a different kind of hunger this time, not for blood, but for revenge. Sweeter than hunger, it begged to be satisfied by the only means possible.

Zane jammed his hand through the chest wall and reached for the beating heart. His palm clamped around it, the life-sustaining organ pulsing in his fist, its spasms still strong and fighting against the inevitable. “You’ll never hurt anybody again.”

As he tore the heart from its body, the man’s eyes went blank. Zane stared at the still-beating heart in his hand as the warm blood dripped from the torn veins and arteries and ran down his hand and wrist. A river of it tunneled under the sleeve of his black shirt, soaking it, pasting it against his skin. His heartbeat slowed to near normal.

It was done.

“Rachel, he’s dead. You’re safe now.”

Zane pivoted, but Rachel was gone. In her stead, a strawberry blond, young woman cowered against the dumpster, whimpering and shaking like a leaf. Tears had dissolved her black mascara and left long dark streaks along her cheeks. Her lips quivered.

Zane blinked. Rachel wasn’t safe. Rachel was gone, and he couldn’t bring her back. But this girl here was alive, and her attacker was dead.

He took a step toward her to impart the good news, but she scrambled back and away from him. “Noooo!” she echoed breathlessly, her eyes frantically searching for an escape route as if she thought Zane was coming after her next.

“I won’t hurt you.” He stretched his bloody hands toward her, but his gesture only made her shriek in panic.

Zane knew what she saw. His jeans and shirt were soaked in blood. The sticky, warm liquid had even penetrated his boots. But that wasn’t the worst. The girl he’d rescued saw his vampire side, the deadly claws, the sharp fangs that pushed past his lips, and the glowing red eyes that made him look like the devil. His bald head only accentuated the air of danger that always accompanied him even when he was in his human form. Even without his fangs extended, people feared him—as they should.

He’d massacred a man like a butcher slaughtered a pig and felt no remorse. He’d done what was necessary, even if most people would never understand it. Evil had to be eradicated instantly, before it had a chance to grow bigger and turn into a festering cancer that could destroy an entire people. As it had once done while the world had stood by and watched.

They’d stood by until it was too late, until the worst had been done.

“I’ll make you forget,” Zane promised the scared girl and allowed his mental powers to take hold of her mind, erasing everything that had happened tonight, including the rape. When she woke tomorrow, she wouldn’t remember anything about the man who’d attacked her, nor the man who’d saved her from this monster.

Or was Zane the monster? Was he the one to be feared, the one who was evil for wanting to avenge what had been done to him and his family?

As he stalked through the night, the warm blood of his victim rapidly drying on his skin and clothes, once again the face of his torturer hovered before him, taunting him. He had to close that chapter of his life and find him, otherwise peace would elude him and happiness remain a foreign word.


“What the fuck were you thinking?” Samson, the founder of Scanguards, slammed a newspaper on the massive desk in his study and rose. He was over six feet tall and slightly broader than Zane who was leaner but not any less lethal than his fellow vampire. He’d rarely ever seen Samson angry, but tonight his boss was fuming.

Zane glanced at the headline: Monstrous killer cuts heart from innocent partygoer. What a load of bull! He hadn’t cut anything—those reporters should get their facts straight. And his victim had been far from innocent. “He had it coming.”

“Did I say you could talk?” Samson snapped, his fangs descending in the process and peeking past his lips. “You weren’t thinking at all, were you? What was it, Zane, bloodlust? You couldn’t stop this time? You couldn’t confine yourself to just feeding from him?”

Zane’s heartbeat accelerated as Samson hurled wrong accusation after wrong accusation at him. “I didn’t feed off him.”

Samson blinked in surprise. “You murdered him in cold blood?”

Zane swore he could still hear the guy’s screams of pain and fear. The recollection caused his gums to itch, a sure sign that his fangs were eager to descend and come out to play. “And I enjoyed every single second of it.”

“My God, you have no heart.” Samson took an instinctive step back, clearly taken aback by his admission.

“I wouldn’t say that. For a while there, I had two.”

Samson pounded his fist on the desk, apparently not enjoying Zane’s sense of humor. Zane didn’t care; he wasn’t Samson’s court jester.

“Do you have any idea what risks you were taking? This could expose us!”

Zane lunged for the desk, bracing his hands on it. “What would you have done, huh? That fucking asshole was raping an innocent girl! At knifepoint!”

With satisfaction, he noticed the widening of Samson’s eyes. “Yes, that’s right. But you always assume the worst of me, don’t you?” Just as everybody else did.

“She was an innocent, and he raped her, just put a knife to her throat and violated her. What if that had been your wife, or your sister? What if somebody did that to your daughter? Would you then stand here, self-righteously talking about exposure? Or would you rip the jerk a new one?”

Zane thrust his chin up in challenge and knew he’d won this round.

As a blood-bonded vampire, Samson was fiercely protective of his human wife, Delilah, and their two-month-old daughter Isabelle. He would gladly give his own life to protect theirs and wouldn’t think twice about killing anyone who threatened them.

When Samson closed his eyes for a moment and raked his hand through his raven black hair, Zane relaxed his aggressive stance.

“You could have made it a clean kill. There was no need to butcher him.”

“There was need.” He’d needed it. He’d needed to see him suffer. A clean kill wouldn’t have satisfied him. “Breaking his neck wouldn’t have hurt him. I had to set an example.”

“An example of what?”

“That evil will be eradicated; that rapists will pay for their crimes.”

“You can’t make an example of someone when nobody knows why you did it!”

Zane let out a sharp breath. “The fact that he had his pants down to his ankles didn’t tell you enough? What do you guys want, a sign around his neck that says rapist?”

“The article didn’t mention anything about his pants being down.”

“Then maybe you should check your facts with your contact at the police first before accusing me of being a cold-blooded murderer.”

Because of Samson’s friendship with the mayor, who was a hybrid—half-vampire, half-human—he had a direct line to the police department, a fact that came in handy on occasion. Maybe Samson should have used his contacts before he’d gone to town on him.

Zane straightened and turned toward the door.

“Oh, we’re not done,” Samson said calmly.

Zane raised an eyebrow as he spun around to face him.
“The fact remains that you slaughtered a man and left his body for anybody to find. It goes against everything Scanguards stands for.”

As Samson paused, a nauseating feeling spread in Zane’s gut. Was his boss planning on firing him? Scanguards was his life, his family, his only link to humanity. Without it, he would descend into darkness and give into his most evil desires. He would only live for revenge and nothing else, leading him onto a path that was sure to destroy him. He was smart enough to know that if Scanguards wasn’t there to ground him in reality any longer, he’d lose the last bit of his soul and turn as evil as the men responsible for his transformation into a vampire.

“No…” he choked out, feeling his throat constrict at the thought of losing everything that meant anything to him. The faces of his colleagues and friends flashed before him: the scarred face of Gabriel, Scanguards’ second-in-command and the man who’d first hired him; Thomas, the gay biker with the IT-Geek brain; Amaury, his linebacker-sized friend whose huge size detracted from the fact that he had the softest heart of any man Zane had ever met, particularly when it came to his blood-bonded mate Nina; and even Yvette, the prissy woman who’d been a pain in the butt until two months ago when she’d found her soul mate, the witch-turned-vampire Haven.

His thoughts wandered further, back to New York and his friend Quinn who was responsible for him still being alive. If Quinn hadn’t pulled him out of the downward spiral he’d been in at the time and introduced him to Gabriel, he would probably be dust by now. He couldn’t give all that up. Those were his friends, the only people he could rely on.

“Sit down,” Samson ordered.

“I’d rather stand.” If Samson was going to fire him, he would take it like a man.

“Suit yourself. I’ll discuss this situation with Gabriel later, but I’m sure we’ll be of the same mind.”

Figured! When didn’t those two agree on something, particularly when it came to the punishment of fellow vampires? Sticklers for rules, both of them! Fuck, he was a vampire, not some idiot human. He had his own rules.
“In the meantime,” Samson went on, “I’m pulling you off your assignment and revoking your class A status.”

Zane clenched his jaw shut. Having Scanguards’ highest clearance revoked meant being ineligible for any dangerous or high-importance assignments. It meant being relegated to routine duties. Samson might as well have chopped his hands off.

“You can’t…” He was no fucking rent-a-cop with a beer belly and a bad haircut sitting in the lobby of a deserted building all night, guarding empty offices.

Samson held up his hand. “Before you say anything you might regret later, I’d like you to listen.”

Zane snorted. Regret wasn’t part of his vocabulary. Neither was remorse.

“I can’t risk having a loose cannon on my staff. Until we’ve figured out how to mitigate the risk you represent, you’ll work in low-risk and low-stress areas. You’ll have my final decision in two days.”

Zane nodded stiffly. “Fine,” he pressed out, barely parting his lips so he wouldn’t bare the fangs that had descended the moment the rage had started to grip him.

Low-risk! Low-stress!

What the fuck was Samson insinuating? That he was having a nervous breakdown? Those were for fucking sissies, not for men like him! He’d shove a nervous breakdown up their asses if they gave him any more shit about this.

Zane left Samson’s study and resisted the urge to slam the door. His long legs ate up the distance as he hurried along the dark, wood-paneled corridor that led to the foyer. He couldn’t wait to get out of the Victorian home that suddenly felt oppressive. He needed to smash something.

“Low-stress!” he cursed under his breath.

“Evening, Zane!” Delilah’s calm voice came from his left.
He whipped his head toward her and watched her walk down the broad mahogany staircase, her infant daughter cradled in her arms.

“Delilah.” He was unable to be any more civil than that. After all, her mate had just insulted him.

She smiled at him when a beeping sound from the kitchen put a frown on her face. “Oh, no, the cookies, I almost forgot.”

Before he realized what she wanted to do, she stretched out her arms and put the baby against his chest. “Here, hold her for a moment. I’ve gotta take the cookies out, or they’ll burn.”

Instinctively, his arms came up to hold the baby before Delilah rushed toward the kitchen. “But, I…” His protest was too late. Shit!

He looked down at the little bundle in his arms, not knowing what to do next when the baby opened its eyes. They were as green as her mother’s and just as beautiful. The little girl looked straight at him. She was a hybrid, a half-human, half-vampire child, possessing the attributes of both species.

She could be out in daylight without burning, yet she would have the strength and speed of a vampire once she was fully grown. Even as a child, she was stronger and would grow faster than a purely human child. While she could eat human food, she could also sustain herself on blood. And once she had reached maturity, she would stop aging just like a full-blooded vampire.
The best of both worlds, she was a tiny wonder. Only vampire males were fertile, but they could only procreate with blood-bonded human females. Vampire females were infertile. However, this little girl had lucked out: her human genes assured she was fertile. She would make Samson a grandfather one day; and her children would be hybrids like her, no matter who the father was.

Fascinated, Zane stared at the miracle in his arms and stroked his knuckles over her rosy cheeks. He hadn’t felt such softness and sweetness since his little sister had been a baby. Ten years her senior, he’d often taken care of her, fed her, and lulled her to sleep.

“You sweet little girl,” he whispered and noticed how she opened her mouth to smile at him. Tiny little fangs peeked from her upper gums.

The baby’s little hand reached for him, and he obliged her and allowed her to capture his index finger with her fist. Her grip was strong, pulling his finger toward her face with ease. Before he could register what was happening, she drew his finger to her mouth and wrapped her lips around it. Sharp fangs descended into his flesh.

“Ouch!” He jerked his finger from her. Blood dripped from it. Zane looked back at the baby and saw her smack her lips together as if she wanted more. The little devil had bitten him!

He shook his head and looked up, his gaze colliding with Delilah’s. Her mouth gaping open, she stared at his bleeding finger and then at her daughter’s mouth.

“She bit you.” Not a question, simply a statement. “She’s never bitten anybody before. You do know what that means, don’t you?”

Ah, shit, he knew only too well.

About the Scanguards Vampires series

The Scanguards Vampires series is full of fast-paced action, scorching love scenes, witty dialogue, and strong heroes and heroines.

Vampire Samson Woodford lives in San Francisco and owns a security/bodyguard company, Scanguards, which employs both vampires and humans. And eventually some witches. Throw in a few immortal guardians and demons later in the series, and you'll get the drift!

Each book can be read as a standalone and always centers around a new couple finding love, but the series is more enjoyable when read in order. And of course, there are always a few running jokes - you'll understand when you meet Wesley, a wannabe witch. Enjoy!

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