The Sevion Brotherhood FB copy


Ten brothers. Gorgeous. Successful. Educated. Single. All working at the Gelreen Memorial Hospital. All hiding a major secret. They’re vampires. But when Fate starts sending them their mates they won’t have time to celebrate because someone else is out to kill them all.

The Sevion Brotherhood by Vicktor Alexander from MLR Press.



In The Author’s Words:

Dakota has all the sexiness, raunchiness, sweatiness, down South charm, paranormal, dark edge of True Blood. With the drama of Grey’s Anatomy. The humor of Scrubs and the nerdiness of The Big Bang Theory with that added flavor of your favorite, sexiest interracial gay porno. Throw in a cute kid, you know in the non-adult parts, and an evil villain and you’ve got a heck of a story!

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.


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.”


After Nimo filled out what felt like the paperwork for his dissertation all over again, giving permission, Zay was finally able to have the operation or whatever it was that Doctor Sexy-um- Sevion, Doctor Sevion, called it. The procedure went off without a hitch, and with anesthesia Zay didn’t wake up once, for which Nimo was especially grateful. He sat at Zay’s bedside, wiping away the tears that slid down his cheeks, thankful the accident wasn’t anything worse than just wood lodged in a gash on his son’s forehead and seven stitches. Nimo had been in the middle of class, he was a professor of mythology at Loweston University, when he’d gotten the phone call. He’d dismissed his class without a thought and raced out of there as if the hounds of hell were on his tail. He’d had no one else he could ask to go and check up on Zay. He had friends, yes. He even had best friends, but his family had disowned him when they’d found out about Zay, and he’d chosen his son over their racist, elitist, bigoted views.
In light of that he was the only one who could go to check on his son in the hospital. Besides it was his son. Why would he send someone else to check on his son? Which was exactly what he’d said to his boss when the man had contacted Nimo to ask why he hadn’t simply sent someone else in his stead. Nimo loved his job, but his boss. Dr. Voilor was a pompous ass who thought his intelligence made him superior over everyone. Whenever he walked away, Nimo and the other professors called him “Lord and Master” since that was the way the man acted.
“Daddy?” a small voice called from the bed and Nimo’s attention instantly turned to his son. He leapt from his chair and sat on the side of Zay’s bed. He took his son’s small hand in his own and swallowed back the tears that clogged his throat.
“Hey, munchkin,” Nimo said, pasting a small smile on his face.
“I huwt,” Zay said.
“I bet you do,” Nimo said with a little chuckle. “You hit your head pretty hard on Miss Norma’s desk. What were you doing?”
Zay’s eyes opened and Nimo gazed into the hazel eyes that were almond-shaped just like his own but looked absolutely nothing like his. Zay’s brows lowered as if he were trying to remember and he lifted a hand to rub his forehead, which Nimo captured and lowered back to the bed. It was a nervous gesture that Zay had picked up from Nimo and usually Nimo thought it was cute but with the bandage on his head, Nimo didn’t want Zay rubbing it and tearing the stitches in his forehead.
“Wunning,” Zay said.
“Why were you running?” Nimo asked.
Zay shrugged, playing with Nimo’s fingers, refusing to look at his father.
“Isaiah,” Nimo said sternly.
Zay sighed as if his father were so tiresome and looked up. “Because Tewwy was a vampiyuh and he was biting the othuh kids and making them into zombies and I didn’t want to be one.”
Nimo sighed and shook his head. He should have known it had something to do with vampires.
“Well that’s certainly interesting,” a voice, deep as a bass guitar, smooth as silk, and sexy as sin said from the doorway and Nimo felt a shiver work its way over his entire body. He knew that voice. Had been bathing in its audio for over an hour and replaying it in his mind as he waited for his son to awaken for the last half hour. It was the sexy Dr. Dakota Sevion. The most gorgeous man to walk the face of the Earth. Ever. In history. And Nimo should know, he taught mythology.
Taking a deep breath, Nimo turned with a smile for the doctor and felt all the breath rush out of his chest. He’d been expecting the doctor to be in his “doctor” clothes, as he’d been before: scrubs, and a white coat, all of which clung to his large, muscled frame. Instead, Dr. Dakota Sevion– or “Doctor Do-Me” as Nimo thought of him — was wearing a pair of jeans, Doc Martens, a royal blue polo shirt that looked as if it were about to burst at the seams around his muscles, with the wisps of his chest hair peeking up from between the opening of the shirt, a leather jacket was hooked over his finger, and held over shoulder. He was leaning against the doorway of Zay’s room and in that moment Nimo found himself wishing, if only for a moment, that Zay was either not there, or still asleep, so he could climb the good doctor like a monkey.
Solid parenting there, Nimo.
“H-hu-hello, Doctor Sevion,” Nimo said.
“Hello, Mister Moore,” Doctor Sevion said with an answering grin in his direction.
“Daddy,” Zay whispered.
Nimo turned to look at Zay and noticed his wide-eyed gaze as he stared at Dr. Sevion and realized that his son had never seen anyone quite so big before. Nimo was surrounded by professors. Nerds, geeks, and dweebs of the highest caliber. All of his friends that were in constant contact with Zay were either academics at the university, computer programmers, scientists, or researchers. They did have one fashion designer and one chef in their little group, but they were exceptions, not the rule. Zay was probably frightened, because besides on television and in movies, he’d never really seen a real-life… well, superhero.
Nimo leaned down and whispered, “He’s not really Superman or Thor or Hulk or any of the other superheroes, baby.” Nimo turned to glare at the doctor when he heard the choked laughter from the doorway and realized he must not have been as quiet as he thought.
Zay shook his head. “I know that, Daddy. He’s a vampiyuh.”
Nimo turned to glance at the doctor and noticed that he’d grown extremely still. He turned to look back at Zay and shook his head. “No, honey. We talked about this. First of all, I told you that vampires aren’t real and then I said if they were, how would you be able to tell that they were?”
Zay’s eyebrows lowered and then cleared. He lifted his hands and began counting them off. “They can’t walk in the sunlight. They are vewy skinny. They are vewy pale. They have weally long hayuh like that actuh you like in that movie.”
“Brad Pitt?” Doctor Sevion asked.
Nimo scrunched his nose in distaste and shook his head. “No. Too blond. Antonio Banderas. I like my men with some color.” He immediately looked away from Doctor Sevion when the man grinned and quirked an eyebrow. He gazed back at Zay. “And what else, honey?”
“They have shawp fangs,” Zay continued counting. “They tuwn into bats. They sleep in coffins and live in Wo-Wo–”
“Romania,” Nimo supplied.
Zay nodded. “Thank you, Daddy.”
“You’re welcome, baby,” Nimo said with a smile. “So see? Doctor Sevion doesn’t meet any of the criteria, so he can’t be a vampire.”
“But he is, Daddy! He is!” Zay protested.
“Why do you think I’m a vampire?” Doctor Sevion asked with a friendly smile.
“Because I can see it!” Zay said with a defiant lift of his chin. “I see vampires. You awe one and so awe the thwee men standing behind you.”
Nimo examined and noticed three equally large men, who all looked just like Dr. Dakota Sevion, standing directly behind him, all contemplating Zay with expressions of shock on their faces. Nimo wanted to laugh it all off and tell them that his son just had a wild imagination but then one of them, taller and bigger than even Dr. Dakota, and who appeared as if he ate rabbits for breakfast just for the hell of it, stepped forward and crossed his arms.
“So what the fuck are we going to do about this?”

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Where Author Vicktor Alexander Ties Up Romance and Makes It Say His Name

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