THE BITE BEFORE CHRISTMAS by Heidi Betts

THE BITE BEFORE CHRISTMAS by Heidi Betts

Vampires turn to fanged and fabulous matchmaker extraordinaire Angelina Ricci to help them find that special someone to curl up with under the mistletoe in this charming (read: sexy) and delightful (read: funny) holiday collection by national bestselling author Heidi Betts. Because vampires need love, too. (Biting optional. Hot sex guaranteed.)

"All I Vant For Christmas"
Connor loves trimming the Christmas tree, baking gingerbread cookies, and hanging the mistletoe. But his vampire siblings won't help. His friend Angelina sends party planner Jillian to the rescue. But when Jillian, who's mortal, discovers she's decking the halls for a family of vampires, will she run - or will Connor have a beautiful woman to share the holidays with?

"A Vampire in Her Stocking"
When Vivian learns that her secret crush Nick is terminally ill, she's heartbroken. Confiding in Angelina, Vivian refuses to turn Nick into a vampire. Deciding to play Santa, Angelina changes Nick and leaves him wrapped in a red bow on Vivian's doorstep...

"It's A Wonderful Bite"
Although Angelina is happy with her boyfriend Sergio, she's ready for a commitment. After drinking eggnog and watching It's a Wonderful Life on Christmas Eve, Angelina falls into a dream where she is mortal and Sergio isn't interested in her. Talk about the nightmare before Christmas! But Santa must have checked his list twice because this Christmas Angelina's wishes are coming true...

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EXCERPT:

Vivian awoke in her own bed, under her own covers. The curtains were drawn to block out any sunlight, but even so, she knew it was nighttime; she could feel it.

A glance at digital clock glowing red on the bedside table told her it was a little after nine. Much later than she normally rose, but she’d had a rough couple of days. And it wasn’t like she had anywhere to go. Not anymore.

Head throbbing, stomach queasy from being empty for so long, she pushed to her feet and forced herself across the room to the bathroom, then down the hall to the kitchen. She started a pot of coffee, not even sure she would be able to drink it, before going to the refrigerator and pulling out an unopened bottle of B-positive.

The weakness in her limbs, dryness in her eyes and mouth, and throbbing in the gums around her elongated incisors all told her she needed to feed, but darned if she could work up the appetite for it.

Fate was too cruel, she thought, twisting the cap off the bottle of synthetic plasma and bringing it reluctantly to her lips.

Here she was, completely immortal, with no chance of dying in the near future unless she fell on a stake or opened her blinds at high noon. While across town, an all too mortal man was facing a certain death, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Well, she could, as Angelina had suggested before leaving her alone with her misery and heartbreak, but he wouldn’t thank her for it if she did.

Tipping back the bottle of blood, she made herself swallow. Gulp after gulp, the thick metallic liquid slid down her throat. And it did make her feel better, relieving a bit of the dizziness and lethargy pulling at her.

When the bottle was empty, she moved to the sink, gave it a quick rinse, and added it to the recycle bin. The coffee was almost ready now, and she would drink a cup of that, too. After all, in higher doses, caffeine had the same effect on vamps as it did on humans, and she could use a touch of artificial pick-me-up.

She had a mug in one hand, creamer in the other, when a sound from the other room caught her attention. Her mind, sluggish as it was, raced to identify the noise.

She lived alone, so it wasn’t a roommate. And she spent so much time at work that she didn’t even have a pet–though maybe she should consider getting one now that she was short on both a job and a romantic obsession.

Could it be Angelina? Had she come back? Or perhaps she was still here and only Vivian’s scattered state had made her think her friend had left at all.

The noise came again, lower and longer this time. It sounded like . . . was she imagining things? . . . a moan.

Setting the mug and creamer on the counter, she started slowly for the living room, tugging the edges of her robe tighter together and retying the sash.

The room was dark except for the glowing lights of the Christmas tree in the corner. She’d decorated it herself just after Thanksgiving, taking absurd pleasure in the placement of each ornament and every floss-like strand of tinsel.

But she didn’t need light to see. Thanks to the vamp in her, her vision was twenty-twenty, and even better in the dark.

The problem was, she didn’t see anything. Just her living room . . . thick mauve carpeting, rarely used fireplace, sofa and matching armchair, and the wall of windows lining the entire West side of her apartment.

Yes, she knew it was odd–a vampire living in a penthouse, surrounded by glass that increased her chances of sun exposure by about eighty percent. But even though she had to keep the shades tightly drawn throughout the day, the view at night was spectacular.

Living here also made her feel more normal, more a part of the human race instead of one that was thought to spend most of its time underground or sleeping in coffins.

That same low moan came again and she stepped farther into the room, rounding the end table at the foot of the sofa–and jerked to a halt. Her eyes widened, heart speeding up in her chest.

“Oh, my God,” she breathed. She felt frozen in place, unable to move.

Sean lay sprawled on the sofa, taking up every inch of the off-white space. His eyes were closed in what she hoped was simply deep sleep. His clothes–a pair of worn jeans and a dark green sweater–were rumpled and his sandy blond hair stuck out in every direction.

And draped across his chest like a beauty pageant sash was a wide red ribbon, complete with giant bow.

One corner of a large white envelope was tucked underneath, just over his heart. She slid it free, careful not to disturb him. Inside was a card with Snoopy and the rest of the Peanuts gang standing around Charlie Brown’s legendary twig of a tree, singing a Christmas carol.

Vivian opened the card. Scrawled in large, flowing script were the words Merry Christmas. Enjoy your present. It was signed simply A.

“Oh, no,” she murmured, closing the card and dropping it to the coffee table in front of the couch. “What did you do?”

She wasn’t sure if she was asking an invisible Angelina or herself, but a sinking feeling was beginning to churn in her gut.

Sinking down beside the sofa, she ran her gaze over Sean’s still form. He looked all right. Unconscious and slightly the worse for wear, but his lips were rosy instead of blue, and his skin still retained a hint of color rather than being the porcelain white of someone no longer shuffling along the mortal coil.

Though shallow and slow, his chest was rising and falling as he drew air into his lungs. Which didn’t exactly allay her fears. On the one hand, breathing was good. On the other, it only meant he wasn’t dead, not that he wasn’t undead.

Vampires breathed in and out the same as everyone else. It wasn’t necessary; they could go a millennia without oxygen, if circumstances warranted it. But it was as easy to continue breathing as to stop, and it allowed them to blend in more easily without looking like mannequins or drawing sometimes unwanted attention to themselves.

Taking a deep breath herself–one she really did feel she needed to brace herself–she lifted a hand and carefully turned his face away from her. A low moan rolled past his lips, and she paused, waiting to see if he was about to wake up. When his jaw remained slack against her fingers, she reluctantly lowered her gaze to the side of his throat.

And there they were. Two perfectly round puncture marks just over his jugular. The holes were still tinged red, but well on their way to being healed.

With a long, heartfelt groan, she released his chin and dropped her head to the edge of the sofa.

“Dammit, Angelina,” she muttered into the thick cushion. “What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

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LANCELOT'S LADY by Cherish D'Angelo

LANCELOT'S LADY by Cherish D'Angelo

A Bahamas holiday from dying billionaire JT Lance, a man with a dark secret, leads palliative nurse Rhianna McLellan to Jonathan, a man with his own troubled past, and Rhianna finds herself drawn to the handsome recluse, while unbeknownst to her, someone with a horrific plan is hunting her down.

When palliative care nurse Rhianna McLeod is given a gift of a dream holiday to the Bahamas from her dying patient, billionaire JT Lance, Rhianna has no idea that her 'holiday' will include being stranded on a private island with Jonathan, an irritating but irresistibly handsome recluse. Or that she'll fall head over heels for the man.

Jonathan isn't happy to discover a drop-dead gorgeous redhead has invaded his island. But his anger soon turns to attraction. After one failed marriage, he has guarded his heart, but Rhianna's sudden appearance makes him yearn to throw caution to the wind.

To live fully in the present, Rhianna must resolve her own murky past, unravel the secret that haunts JT, foil the plans of a sleazy, blackmailing private investigator and help Jonathan find his muse. Only then can Rhianna find the love she's been searching for, and finally become...Lancelot's Lady.

"From the cold rocky shores of Maine to the extravagant mansions of Miami to a lush tropical island in the Bahamas, Cherish D'Angelo takes her heroine through a series of breathtaking romantic adventures that mirror the settings, often in surprisingly ironic ways. A page turner in the best possible sense." - Gail Bowen, author of the award-winning Joanne Kilbourn series.

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Chapter 3

The airplane droned over cottony clouds and Rhianna was lulled into sleep. She dreamed of coming home to find JT lying in his bed, still and lifeless. Waking suddenly, she shook off an uneasy feeling.

It’s just a nightmare.

She smiled, recalling JT’s words before she left.

“I’ll wait for your return before I go anywhere,” he promised, “including Heaven’s pearly gates―or that other place―whichever will take me.”

God, please don’t take him before I return. I’d never forgive myself.

She yawned and rested her head against the window.

Then restless dreams once again claimed her…

After being dumped off on Mrs. Emerson, a foster mother with very little money and too many mouths to feed, Rhianna had given up hope of finding a real family. She was a lost soul for a couple of years, until the “system” found her new foster parents when she was almost sixteen.

At first, Peter and Gwen Waverley seemed kind, but the honeymoon stage didn’t last long. By the second week, Rhianna was making dinner, doing the dishes, vacuuming the house, and on weekends she did laundry. Sometimes her foster mother would ask her to dust too. Plus she had to keep her own bedroom spotless. Between school, chores and homework there wasn’t much time left for a social life.

It didn’t take her long to realize that the Waverleys were more interested in having a live-in housekeeper than a daughter. Later, she found out that her foster father saw her as anything but daughter material. In fact, he saw her more as a possession. A possession he had to have.

Peter’s lecherous advances behind his wife’s back made Rhianna so nervous that she remained in her room unless she had chores to do. At night, she’d lock her bedroom door, holding her breath as his footsteps slithered past her door.

Most of the time she was able to avoid being alone with him―until one evening when Gwen decided to go see Phantom of the Opera.

Rhianna saw the evil twinkle in Peter’s eyes.

“Please don’t go, Mrs. Waverley,” she cried. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“Quit your whining,” Peter snapped.

Sweat trickled down his brow as he waddled over to his wife and handed her a twenty dollar bill. “Have fun.”

Gwen eyed Rhianna with disdain. “See to it that all your chores are done before you retire. I don’t want to come home to a pile of dirty dishes and wrinkled laundry. And quit that sniffling.”

“But Mrs. Waverley, I’d just feel much better if you were home. And I don’t think the agency would like―”

Peter whipped around. “You don’t think I can take care of you?”

“Now, Peter,” Gwen said with a sigh. “The girl is just missing me, that’s all. I’m sure you’ll do a fine job looking after our…daughter.” Her eyes narrowed. “And don’t worry, she won’t say anything to the agency. She knows there isn’t another family for miles that would take her in.”

Peter glared at Rhianna. In a cold voice he said, “It’s a good thing your parents are dead. I don’t think they’d be too proud of your behavior.”

“Yes, you behave yourself,” Gwen commanded. “And get those chores done while I’m gone. I’ll be back around ten o’clock.”

The door slammed shut behind her.

Rhianna watched as Peter flicked the lock.

When he turned around, his eyes were gleaming and his mouth was stretched into a sadistic smile. “Come to Daddy.”

Her heart stopped beating.
“Miss?” a voice called from the blackness. “Wake up.”

Rhianna opened her eyes and a face swam into view.

“Why, hello there,” a flight attendant said, her accent placing her from Ireland. “Boy, that was one doozy of a nightmare, if I do say so. You better have a drink, and I don’t mean water. Can I fetch you something?”

“No, thank you.” Rhianna shook off the remnants of her dream. “When will we be landing?”

“In about twenty minutes, give or take. Course we have to make it through the Bahama Triangle first.”

Rhianna’s pulse raced. “The Bahama Triangle?”

The flight attendant grinned. “Just kidding. No such thing.”

In the aisle seat across from Rhianna, a man in a business suit nodded. “I’ve taken this trip dozens of times, and they still use the old Bahama Triangle joke.” He smiled. “Where you headed?”

“To a resort on Angelina’s Isle. Have you been there before?”

The man frowned. “No, can’t say I have.”

Over the speaker, the captain asked everyone to fasten their seatbelts for their descent. The plane softly touched down and coasted down the runway.

Rhianna’s heart raced with anticipation, mimicking the rumble of the plane’s engine. Fifteen minutes later, she disembarked from the plane and followed the ant trail of tourists and residents down the narrow hall.

Once she passed through the airport, she hurried outside. A wall of heat and humidity hit her, and she sucked in a breath, grinned and hailed a cab.

“I need to get to Bayshore Marina,” she said, checking the directions JT had written down.

A kaleidoscope of island colors and scenery rushed past the open taxi window. The seductive aroma of exotic flowers mingled with the fresh but humid scent of an earlier rain that had left evaporating puddles on the road. Between lush palm trees, she saw houses painted in tropical shades of orange, pink, yellow and green.

It was breathtaking, unspoiled. Like another world.
Almost too soon the taxi pulled up to Bayshore Marina. A small dock jutted out over the water and boats of various sizes and styles were moored there, while others dotted the water. In the distance, small islands appeared to float on the ocean’s surface.

She wondered which one was Angelina’s Isle.

Walking along the dock, she noticed two men arguing about the boxes they were loading into a brightly painted powerboat. Moving closer, she discovered that the paint job was meant to detract from the rickety shape the craft was in.

“There isn’t enough room for all of them!” yelled the dark-skinned man.

“You’ll have to make room, Roland,” his older companion replied. “Tyler wants these supplies this month, not two months from now.”

“I’m telling you, Denny, I can’t transport them all. The boat’ll sink.”

The older man cursed. “Tyler pays you to make sure he’s well stocked. You don’t wanna get on his bad side. Remember what happened to Daniel O’Brien? Tyler just about took his head off when the poor kid forgot his brushes.”

“Excuse me,” Rhianna said.

Neither man noticed her.

“Hello there!” she hollered.

The two men looked up, their eyes widening in shock. Roland nearly dropped the box he carried. And Denny missed going for a swim by about six inches.

“I’m looking for a boat called Siren’s Call,” she said. “Can either of you tell me when it’s supposed to arrive?”

“What do you want with the Siren?” Roland asked, white teeth gleaming as he smiled in her direction.

“The captain is supposed to take me to Angelina’s Isle,” she explained, backing up as the men jumped onto the dock. At their doubting looks, she said, “If you could just tell me when he’ll arrive, I―”

“The captain won’t be taking you anywhere,” Denny said. “The Siren isn’t taking passengers today.”

“But I don’t understand. I was told the captain would take me across.” She shaded her eyes with one hand and surveyed the boats nearby. “Maybe I can take another boat.”

“There aren’t any others that dock there,” Roland answered. “Lancelot’s Landing is private property.”

“Well, I’ll just wait until the Siren’s Call gets here,” she said in a tight voice. “I’m sure once I’ve explained why I’m here, the captain will take me across.”

Roland laughed. “Ma’am, this is the Siren’s Call. At least it used to be, until the boss changed her name.”

Denny let out a scornful snort. “Long overdue, if you ask me.”

“Now she’s Misty’s Dream,” Roland said with pride.

“So you’re the captain?” she asked.

The young man nodded. “But like Denny told you, I can’t take passengers today. I have enough on board already. Besides, the boss didn’t say he was expecting anyone.”

“Then the boss is in for a big surprise.” Rhianna reached into her handbag and dug out the envelope addressed to ‘Captain’. “This is for you. From my employer.”

Roland suspiciously peered at the envelope. Ripping it open, he quickly read the note.

“Your employer paid me five hundred dollars,” he said. “Looks like you’re heading to Lancelot’s Landing.”

“Roland,” Denny warned.

“I need the money. Leave the last two boxes on the dock. I’ll run them out to Tyler in a couple of weeks.”

Helping Rhianna aboard, Roland tucked her suitcase by her feet.

“You won’t get in trouble for leaving supplies behind, will you?” she asked.

“Not enough to turn down the money you gave me.”

With a wave to Denny, Roland pushed the throttle forward and the powerboat took off, leaving a frothy wake in its trail.

"I guess your boss forgot he had a new guest," she said, smiling as the wind caught at her hair.

"Tyler never forgets."

He did this time, she almost said.

She found herself wondering about the resort’s boss. How could he not pay attention to his guests' arrival? And how would he feel when Roland explained that they had to leave two boxes behind in order for her to come on board?

Rhianna leaned back and closed her eyes while the boat raced across the water, the outboard purring like a kitten. The coolness of the breeze was a welcome change from the scorching heat she’d felt when she deplaned. Loosening her hair from the restraints of an elastic band, she ran her fingers through the wavy strands.

“You’re definitely not in Maine anymore,” she said beneath her breath.

Roland pointed at a small island. “That’s Angelina’s Isle.”

“It’s very isolated.”

“You have no idea.”

The way he said it made Rhianna’s heart sink.

Minutes later, Roland slowed the engine and aimed the boat for a worn dock that jutted out into the water.

A weathered sign nailed to a post at the end of the dock read, Welcome to Lancelot’s Landing, Angelina’s Isle. Underneath, a second sign warned, PRIVATE PROPERTY. TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED.

It was an odd warning for a resort.

Rhianna squinted, searching the bushes for signs of life. There wasn’t a building, road or person in sight.

Roland hefted the suitcase over the side and set it on the dock with the boxes he’d already unloaded. Then he opened a small mailbox under the warning sign.

“Tyler’s next order,” he explained. “He should be here any minute.” Roland jumped into Misty’s Dream and prepared to cast off.

“Wait! Where are you going? There’s no one here yet.”

“Don’t worry. Tyler’ll be here. He hardly ever misses his supply drop.” He waved once, then steered the boat toward open water.

“What do you mean hardly ever?” she hollered.

There was no reply.

She moaned. “Where do I go if Tyler doesn’t show?”

As she watched the powerboat speed away, anxiety crawled over her like fire ants at a picnic. There wasn’t a soul in sight. Not even a proper path through the overgrown brush to show her the way.

“Wait until I get a hold of this Tyler,” she muttered. “I’ve got a thing or two to tell him about customer service. Some kind of resort this is.”

She grabbed the Gucci suitcase―a birthday present from Higginson―and dragged it in the direction she hoped would lead to the resort. Using her handbag to ward off errant tree branches, she gradually made her way through the dense foliage, although the grass was slippery and she came close to falling more than once.

“Where the heck is this place?”

After ten minutes of fighting an unforgiving jungle, she turned around and headed back to the beach.

When the boss comes for his supplies, I’ll be waiting.

She would register a complaint with the front desk. Guests shouldn’t be dumped off in the middle of God knows where and left to fend for themselves for God’s knows how long.

She checked her watch. It was almost three o’clock.

Damn. How long is Tyler going to keep me waiting?

Mindful of slivers, Rhianna sat at the end of the dock and dangled her bare feet in the warm water. It had been a long trip, and worrying about JT definitely didn’t help. She smiled, thinking of the old man’s stubborn pride. He didn’t like to be babied, especially by her.

Staring out at the glittering ocean, a sudden pain flared deep within. Her only taste of what family was like would end in less than six months.

She couldn’t go back to Maine, not now.

Not ever.

Tears trailed down her cheeks, and for the first time in months, she broke down. If only she could have picked a father. She would have picked JT.

The shrill cry of an unseen bird reached out to her as loneliness enveloped her, wrapping her in exhaustion. She couldn’t resist lying on her back, her toes skimming the ocean. Before drifting into a deep sleep, she had one last thought.

I’m like the Lady in the Mist. Waiting…

A misty dream pool beckoned, calling her name.

Rhianna…

She waited expectantly, observing the still surface. Warm water closed around her toes as she stood at the shore, her white nightgown fitting the curves of her body like a second skin.

A ripple disturbed the water, as if someone had dropped a stone from above. From its center a form arose, sleek and graceful.

It was him! She had found him at last.

This man of her dreams, all bronzed and muscular, brushed the water from his jet-black hair and waded to the shore. His muscles gleamed in the moonlight as he stepped, naked, from the pool. He moved toward her, his eyes smoldering with passion. Arms outstretched, he reached for her and pulled her close.

She reached up, her fingertips gently tracing a path up his smooth chest. Winding her hands around his neck, she clung to him, barely daring to breathe.

He bent his head, those sapphire eyes mesmerizing her, drowning her. Not a word was said. He leaned forward, caressing her lips with his, lighting a fire that swept through her very soul.

His kiss deepened, growing more urgent.

Then he whispered her name…

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DAMAGED CARGO by Sandra Sookoo

DAMAGED CARGO - A emotion-packed space drama-turned-erotic tale by Sandra Sookoo

When survival is of the utmost importance, it's best to shoot first and ask questions later, especially if you won't like the answers.

The 22nd century is heinous. Finding a comfortable life in the Levinese Galaxy grows increasingly difficult.

Emma Gardine, one of a handful of female pirate captains in this throwback Victorian society, begs, borrows, steals and cheats her way through the planetary system on the hunt of a profit. An expert of guarding her heart and keeping people out, she never shows remorse and uses people until she gets what she wants, yet the hope for a normal life glimmers just beyond her reach. Then she meets Tarik Vartouth and her world splinters with new emotions and possibilities.

Tarik survived the murder of his sisters and the collapse of his laid-back existence. He's sick of the mandatory breeding programs for genetic supremacy on Nazulara that sends innocent people to death and desires to campaign for democracy for his species. When the opportunity to befriend Emma is presented, he takes it and makes a play for her ship in order to carry out his own plot for revenge against his father - the Premier and ruler of the planet. Stakes are raised when sparks between him and Emma fly. Now their future and Nazulara's, hangs in the balance.


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Excerpt:

Illumination from a few overhead light bulbs cast distorted, lengthening shadows on the metal grating of the floor. Emma’s boot heels echoed in the cavernous space. She didn’t try to disguise her approach; she wanted Tarik to know she was coming. Stacks of freight boxes rose around her like silent sentries.

And then she saw him.

He stood near one of the boxes she couldn’t open earlier with several empty plastic containers at his feet, obviously done with the job of watering the cargo. She mentally berated herself for feeling sorry from his tale of genetic selection just so he could hitch a ride. No more.

“You son of a bitch.” She strode over the floor. Tarik turned to face her as if he expected she’d rush to the cargo hold exactly like she’d done. Anger boiled in her veins and spilled out to cause her pulse to pound at her temples. “You brought the live cargo onto my ship.”

“Think again. I merely heard the knocking and had the know-how to open the lock.” His voice was mocking enough, but it was the smirk and barely lifted eyebrow that set Emma off. “No matter, Captain Gardine. They’ve been watered and should survive until someone checks on them tomorrow.”

“Bastard.” She threw herself into his personal space, pleased when he crashed into the freight container. “You endangered my crew and put my ship in jeopardy. As it is, we’re in a shitload of trouble.”

“Oh, you do care about someone else beside yourself.” Tarik shoved her away, sidestepping her next attack. “And here I thought you were ice all the way down to your core. You must not be since rumor has it you warm beds at every port you put into.”

“You’ll never know for sure.” Grabbing his arm, she planted her hip and flipped him over her body, much the same way she’d done in the Marketplace, except, this time, he didn’t go down like a sack of vegetables. He landed on his feet and slammed her against a shipping container on the other side of the aisle. The back of her head glanced off the metal. She briefly saw bright spots behind her eyes before blinking. “You’ll pay for that.” She raised a hand, determined to slap his hated face. He blocked her as if she were a child who threw a tantrum. “Damn it.” Taking a chance, she lifted her left hand. His free hand darted out and grasped hers.

“Too bad, sweetheart. Looks like you’re losing your edge.”

Emma stared at him in the dim light. Her chest heaved with ragged breaths from the exertion, and she struggled in his hold. It didn’t lessen; instead, Tarik pressed her arms against the cool metal of the container. He held her wrists firm in his fingers. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll release me at once.”

“That’s exactly the problem. I don’t know what’s good for me.” His own breathing was heavy. “If I did, I certainly wouldn’t be here.” Tarik pressed against her, effectively pinning her to the freight container and stopping her knee before it could find its mark between his legs.

The blueness of his eyes drew her in and the smug smile that curved his lips muffled the last of her sanity. Emma held his gaze, tested the strength of his hold, and when he still wouldn’t release her, she did the only thing she could think of that would shock him.

She thrust her head forward and pushed her mouth against his. At first, the hard set to his lips resisted the assault. Slowly, they softened with acceptance. All too soon, it was over and he pulled away. His gaze bore into hers for a few long seconds, then he returned the impromptu kiss.

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AWAKENING BEAUTY by Marie Treanor and Bonnie Dee

To fight this evil, they'll have to make love. Lots of love.

AWAKENING BEAUTY Book 3 in The Fairytale Fantasies Series by Marie Treanor and Bonnie Dee.

Joel Thorne feels as if he's been sleepwalking through his life. Wealth and success are his; now he's at a crossroads. Politics beckons, a move that would be made easier with a loveless marriage of convenience to his ambitious friend and ally, Vee Gabor. During a long mountain hike to clear his head, he discovers a castle overgrown with thorns and, inside, a beautiful sleeping woman.

When Princess Aurora opens her eyes, Joel's handsome face is imprinted on her heart - then she's swamped with grief and loss. An evil fairy tried to take her pure blood to gain power, and though her other godmothers fended off the worst of the curse, she's been asleep for a thousand years. Worse, she's been erased from history and from the memories of all she loved. True love brought her back, but to what future?

Despite their instant, strong attraction, Joel's practical nature wars with the possibility that magic is real. Yet with every touch, every kiss, the heat and emotion grow more real than anything he's ever known. Their union also reawakens something else. Something darker. An evil fairy's centuries-old vendetta that just won't die.

Warning: Contains explicit, edge-of-your-dreams sex, a newly minted hero in training, and a fairy princess who kicks butt for the man she loves. No fairy dust was spared in the making of this book.

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Excerpt:

She stared in front of her, picked up the water bottle as if it held the secret of this mess. “I wanted to go to the south tower. I don’t know why. My parents had always forbidden it. But I’d snuck up there once before when I was a child, following one of the maids. It was full of sharp things, the things I was never allowed to go near—scissors and needles, pins, spinning wheels. So many that they positively glittered. That time the maid turned and saw me and quickly slammed and locked the door again.

“The night of the ball, I was drawn to return. I was nineteen and soon to be married. I didn’t want to be a child, so over-protected that I couldn’t even look at a pin! And so I went up there, even knowing the door would be locked. It always was.”

She looked at Joel, almost wondering at the effort of memory that seemed like yesterday and yet was hazy and confused. She couldn’t properly explain the compulsion that had drawn her to the tower. He gazed back steadily, waiting.

“It wasn’t. That’s the funny thing. The door wasn’t locked at all. When I pushed, it opened immediately and now all that was there was one solitary spinning wheel. It glittered too. In fact, it shone so brightly I just had to touch it, to find out what it felt like. So I walked over to it. Despite what my parents had always said ever since I could remember, I knew I was an adult now and nothing as trivial as a spinning wheel could possibly damage me. I reached out and touched the spindle.”

“Then what?” Joel prompted when she fell silent.

“I pricked my finger on it.” She lifted the finger, examining it. “Look.”

He leaned over, taking her hand, and gazed down at the healed scab on her right forefinger. He smiled and lifted the finger to his lips, kissing it lightly, briefly.

“You look, Aurora. That’s not a thousand-year-old scab. And I have to say, none of you looks a thousand years old. I think you fell up there and hurt your head. It’s quite a vivid story you’ve concocted for yourself, but with a doctor’s help, I’m sure your true memories will come back.”

Stricken, she stared at him. “But I want these ones. They’re all I have. Joel, I want my mother…”

Joel said something beneath his breath and put his arms around her, drawing her close into his arms. “We’ll find her,” he promised. “We’ll find everyone you’ve lost, everyone you need.”

Stunned by his familiarity, she held herself rigid, but then, suddenly terrified he would let her go, she relaxed into his solid comfort and let the tears come. Suddenly she didn’t care if he was a peasant or some strange lord from a future time that terrified her. She clutched his arms, his shoulders, as if they were her one salvation, buried her face in his chest and wept.

He held her in a big, rocking hug, stroking her hair until the storm had passed. Even then, when she slowly, shame-facedly, lifted her head, he didn’t let her go. His lips tugged upward and, in shy response, she let hers follow.

He bent his head and softly kissed her mouth.

At the first touch of his lips, something surged through her, vital and desperate. It was a brief kiss, less even than she had shared with Karl the night before the ball she’d never got to, and yet it changed everything. He drew back slightly, and she realized he meant it as no more than comfort. Comforting the child that she wasn’t. She needed… She didn’t know what she needed, except him.

So she reached up and fastened her mouth to his.



Stunned, Joel let the deranged girl’s sweet, clinging lips move over his. He should never have kissed her in the first place. She’d just looked so wounded and vulnerable—and yes, so damned beautiful—that it had seemed the right thing to do. It had been impulse, instinct, with the purest intentions, but even as he did it, part of him was aware that if she’d been male, old or unattractive, he was unlikely to have chosen that particular form of comfort.

He put his hand up to her face, meaning to disengage with gentleness, to explain how he couldn’t possibly take advantage of someone so emotionally upset right now, but as he moved his lips to speak, she took it as a sign of response and sank deeper with a sigh.

Joe’s body acted without permission and from the worst of intentions. Fire seemed to curl from her lips through his entire body. His cock, already perked by her beauty, rose up like a rampant beast in his pants. She was all softness and passion. Her breasts pressed into his chest. His hands itched to touch, to caress and tweak. With some superhuman effort, he prevailed, but he wouldn’t have been human at all if he’d been able to resist kissing her back.

Hell, it was only a kiss, and whatever the beast in his pants was demanding, he’d make damned sure it got to be no more than that. So he opened his mouth wider, taking hers with him and slid his tongue into her mouth.

She tasted of lemons and vanilla, at once sweet and tangy, and she smelled delicious too, some heady scent of roses and sunshine that made him long to bury himself inside her. Her tongue seemed shocked to encounter his, but after an instant, it slid along his, and let him suck hers into his own mouth.

She let out a little moan, twisting in his arms as if she needed to get closer. Her lips, her whole body seemed to burn up with a fever of passion, and everything in him leapt to meet it. His hand closed over the softness of her silk-covered breast at last, felt the nipple grow under his palm until he slid his hand downward and caressed it with his thumb. She moaned again, her breath hot and exciting in his mouth.

Hot. Fever. Illness. Confusion. For fuck’s sake, Thorne, what are you doing?

He slid his hand back to her waist, drew his mouth free with as much gentleness as he could muster.

“Aurora,” he said a little too harshly. “Slow down.”

Confusion clouded the warm passion in her eyes. Then hurt overlaid them both, and he groaned aloud.

“You don’t like me,” she whispered.

“God, it isn’t that…”

“It must be. You don’t fear my rank, if you even believe in it. I’m not usually so…immodest, but I’m not stupid. Just say I disgust you.”

“Disgust me? Aurora, this is how much you disgust me.” He seized her hand and carried it to the rigid hardness of his cock to make his point. Perhaps that wasn’t wise under the circumstances, but he didn’t think best in the grip of sexual frustration.

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t pull away in shock. Neither, fortunately, did she delve inside his pants. Her fingers moved uncertainly, feeling the outline of his shaft. He swallowed, maintaining his self-control with difficulty.

Her face burned. He lifted her hand off his cock and carried it to his lips for a quick kiss. “That’s how much I want you, so don’t tempt me anymore. When you’re better, and if you still want to come, I’d love to take you out to dinner.”

Even as he said the words, he laughed at himself. He sounded so pompous and grown up. Which was another matter. The girl was nineteen and clearly not as experienced as he’d expected. Yet another reason to back off.

And yet the sneaking thought entered his head that if Vee had ever felt half so good in his arms, he wouldn’t be this tormented over the decision he needed to make concerning their possible future together. She was not yet his fiancée, not really even his girlfriend, more of a business partner if anything. He owed Vee nothing, at least not in emotional terms, and yet even thinking of her now felt like treachery. Though whether to her or Aurora he wasn’t clear and didn’t want to be.

Aurora’s gaze fell. She shifted away from him, and perversely, he wanted her back in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just feel so…”

“Needy,” he said ruefully. “Me too, but with considerably less cause. Come on, eat up. It’ll make you feel better.”

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AXEL'S OBSESSION by Teirney Medeiros

AXEL'S OBSESSION by Teirney Medeiros

Jolene Victor has lived her entire life haunted by the curse on her family. It has been foretold to bed a man will result in an obsession that can only end with her death. And she's survived it - until now.

Enter Axel Danvers, a man plagued by his own past and guilt, returns home to claim Danvers Island as his own. One encounter with the mysterious Jolene draws Axel into the storm that's been brewing for years. Someone else is watching, and he's hungry for revenge. Can Axel put the past behind him? Can Jolene survive Axel's obsession?

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Excerpt

Not wanting to hear anything else but Axel’s wife, Jolene pulled out her cards, shuffled the deck restlessly. “I’m tempted to look.”

“You know not to.”

True. She could read another’s fate, but not her own or that of her family members. It was tradition. With each new day and the different choices people made, their fates changed.

The last of her tea gone, she stood up, stretched. “I’m going to go for a walk. Think for a while.”

Her Grand Mama’s assent was buried in the kitchen cabin, a muffle Jolene barely heard. Outside, the familiar sounds of the island surrounded her. She wouldn’t go far, just enough to clear her head. Intrigue sat on her shoulders like a crouching tiger.

Lost in thought, a shift in trees made her snap around. Immediately she went into the fighter’s stance Axel taught her, but Jolene blocked her face with her fists and lowered her center of gravity.

“Good job. Quick reaction,” he said, his voice hard.

Axel. “Shit, you scared the hell out of me.”

“What are you doing out here at night by yourself?”

The cabin still in sight, she didn’t see how it could be so wrong. The anger that flowed from him beat at her with its strong fists. Instinctively, she backed away from him. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice thick with a mixture of happiness and sadness at the same time. He looked so beautiful, standing in the half-light of her front porch. “What are you doing here?”

His sweat pants and jogging shoes belied his easy, alert posture. The squared shoulders, tilt of his jaw as he scanned the area. “I wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

Jolene didn’t know how to deal with the tension between them. It felt so foreign, so wrong, to be angry with him. Or have him be angry with her. There seemed to be an invisible wall, and neither one of them could cross it.

“As you can see, I’m fine.” Her body ached for his. “I’ll make sure I’m up early tomorrow.”

Not able to withstand his cold shoulder anymore, Jolene ran her hands back through her loose curls. “How do we get past this?”

His bare chest captured her attention for the smallest of seconds, but long enough to make her want. She wished she’d never found that diary, but then again, it was coming all along. She just thought she’d have more time with him.

“I don’t know. You kept something important from me, and I can’t trust you. At least, not with . . .”

“Your heart?”

The strangled cry that left her throat sounded like someone else’s. She couldn’t fathom it came from her. Strong in her own right, Jolene never begged. It wasn’t a part of her makeup, and yet, he made her want to.

The shuttered look that fell of his granite face made Jolene shrivel up. He paced a few turns, faced the direction of his home. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

The distance between them growing with each step he took, Jolene couldn’t find the words to call him back. What would she say? Love me? Or would she just throw herself at him, give her body to him shamelessly as she did the other times? She deserved more than just a good fuck. And a bodyguard.

“Good night, Axel,” she whispered. Her words were carried to him on a soft wind tainted with jasmine.

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NOCKED ASUNDER by Sam Cheever

NOCKED ASUNDER - This erotic fantasy is book two in Sam Cheever's Gods of Love Series


In her line of work Athena Googlios is accustomed to hot, sexy men. But Damian Leandar puts hot on a whole new level. His touch, even his gaze makes her body clench and warm with lust. Athena’s mind tells her she needs to treat him like any other client. But her body has its own agenda. And when Athena finds herself facing off with a pair of truly ugly mythical creatures, Damian may be the only one who can save her from a fate worse than death.



Unfortunately, Damian has some pretty big secrets. And despite the feelings they can no longer ignore, something bigger than love may yet come between them. In the end, it might take losing everything they have, to make them realize how much they had to lose.



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By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.

An Excerpt From: NOCKED ASUNDER

Copyright © SAM CHEEVER, 2009

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Chapter One


Phantom Applicant

I squinted at my computer screen and frowned. Nope. I hadn’t imagined it. There it was again.

Blip.

The face on the screen, expanded as large as I could make it, was a new application, provided online, through cyberspace. It had popped into my inbox just that morning. And I’d opened it up with nary a clue of what it was going to do to me.

Not a clue.

But when I looked at the face on the screen my heart did a little blip thing. It was subtle. But to a Cupid, who is unused to experiencing that type of thing for herself, it was anything but inconsequential.

His face was wide and square, with strong features that reminded me of his Greek heritage. His hair was dark gold and longish, framing a wide face and curling softly to his neck. Somehow it enhanced the thick column of his throat rather than feminizing it. His eyes were intense, wide and dark blue, with a thick fringe of dark gold lashes around them. His chin, impossibly square and masculine, was covered with dark gold stubble. He had long creases in his cheeks, like elongated dimples, that told me he liked to smile.

His lips were full and his mouth wide.

The eyes smoldered from my screen.

He looked like a man who was used to passion.

My nipples hardened.

My inbox chimed as another application dropped into it from cyberspace and I ignored it.

That face. That body.

Holy mother of all that was rich and fertile.

I wanted that man with every fiber in my being.

Blip. Blip. Blip.

My thighs clenched together as a wave of pure lust swept through me.

I made a little choking sound and sat back in my chair. I had to get a grip. I was a professional for the gods’ sakes. I saw gorgeous men all the time. I worked with several of them in fact.

But nothing had ever…no one…

I jumped as my phone rang and reached to answer it.

“Cupid’s Arrow, we aim for your heart. This is Athena.”

A brief pause. And then a throaty female voice oozed over the line toward me. “Cute slogan. I hope you can live up to that.”

“Mm-hmm.” I wasn’t paying attention. I found myself staring at the picture on the screen again.
“Miss?”

I shook my head and flipped the monitor off so I couldn’t see his face. “Sorry, I’m just a little buried here… How can I help you?”

“I want a match. A particular match. I want to be matched with Damian Leandar. I believe you just got his application?”

Now that got my attention. “Leandar? I’m not sure—”

“Check your email, sweetie. I watched him send it.”

I flipped the monitor back on just to be sure. Yup. It was him. Damn! Feeling my heart drop sadly into my stomach, I sighed. “I have his application, yes. But if you already know you want to be matched with him, why do you need us?”

I figured I already knew the answer to that. Hope soared in my chest. Maybe he didn’t want the woman on the phone. Maybe she was butt ugly or something.

I could always hope.

“He doesn’t know my feelings. When he finds out I’m interested he’ll definitely return my interest. But he’s horribly shy. So I think it would be better if you set us up. I just sent you my application.”

I bit my lip as I opened the second application to hit my mailbox that morning. I nearly gasped when I saw the woman’s picture.

Nope. Not butt ugly.

Not even close.

Ms. Megan Megara sat astride a flawless, white horse, long legs draping effortlessly down its sides. She was barefoot and was wearing a light summer dress, looking out over the ocean with a dreamy look on her perfect face. Her features were delicate and perfectly matched on her pale, oval face. Her hair was a thick, red-blonde mane falling over her shoulders and down her back, curling softly just above her narrow hips.

She held the reins softly in one hand, the other appeared to be smoothing over the horse’s glossy neck. She could easily have fitted in with the goddesses on Olympus.

My last hope fled me.

No way Damian Leandar would tell this woman no.

I bit my lip. “Okay, Ms. Megara. Let me do some preliminary work. Then I’ll contact Mr. Leandar and try to set up an appointment for you two to meet. You’ll both need to go through our pre-screening process though. It’s a requirement.”

“Pre-screening?”

“Yes ma’am, it requires that a Cupid’s Arrow representative spend at least ten hours with every prospective match, in a dating environment, just to make sure we completely understand your needs…so we can match you more perfectly,” I added, feeling hopeless at the thought.

I wanted to be Damian Leandar’s perfect match. A part of me, a mean little part, relished the thought that I would get him to myself for ten hours…maybe more if I could swing it…before I had to hand him over to her.

I felt a little better at this thought.

“I’ll have one of our male representatives call you to set up your pre-screening.”

The woman sighed audibly. “All right. If I must. But I want to move forward with this quickly…I’ve waited long enough…” Clearing her throat, she stopped in mid-sentence, as if realizing she’d said too much. “Anyway, I’ll be expecting that call today.”

“Thank you for contacting Cupid’s Arrow.” I hung up, pleased that I’d sounded sort of sincere.

Then my gaze slid back to my monitor, where Damian Leandar’s brooding, bad boy face called to me. My heart did that little blip thing again and I sighed. What was it about the man that called to me? Was it the thick tangle of dark gold hair, curling softly around a masculine face with a square jaw and strong nose? Was it the full, kissable mouth? Or was it the sad, blue eyes, which looked like they’d seen way too much of the world and needed someone to make it all better?

Nah, I decided, it was the broad shoulders, smooth golden chest and muscular arms that called to me.

Leandar was standing on a beach—I didn’t miss the obvious connection there—shirtless, wearing body-hugging jeans and nothing else. He held a light-colored wad of cloth in one hand, as if he’d just stripped off his shirt and he stared toward the camera, yet his gaze was unfocused, as if he didn’t know it was there.

He looked as if his heart were heavy, his thoughts deep. He appeared to be a very unhappy man.
I suddenly realized I wanted to fix that for him.

I wanted to take away the pain in his beautiful eyes.

No matter what it took.

Even if it meant giving him to her.

Sighing, I picked up the phone to call him.

It would be all right, I told myself.

After a couple hundred years as a Cupid, I was used to self-sacrifice when it came to love.
I could do this.

But as the phone started to ring on the other end of the line, my heart did that little blip thing again.

Only this time it hurt.

* * * * *

I tried Damian Leandar’s number for the tenth time, fully expecting the phone to ring through again as it had been doing all day. Instead I jumped as a soft, deep voice answered. “Yes?”

I sat there, my lips flapping like a wounded fish, suddenly at a loss for words. Then I remembered why I was calling him. “Damian Leandar?”

There was a short beat of silence before he responded. I discovered I was holding my breath. “No. This is his brother, Peter. Can I take a message?”

Frowning, I tried to ignore the way the sexy voice had jump-started my pulse and the entire southern geography of my body. “Yes. Thank you. My name is Athena Googlios, I’m a representative of Cupid’s Arrow and I’m calling in regard to your brother’s application.”

Another silence. “Cupid’s Arrow?”

Reluctant to discuss his brother’s private business, I didn’t elaborate. “Can you ask him to call me, please?” I gave him my office and cell numbers and hung up, feeling very frustrated.

It wasn’t often I had this much trouble locating a client.

My phone rang as I was preparing to leave for the day and I snatched it up, hoping it was him.

“When am I meeting him?”

I sighed. “I haven’t been able to get in touch with him, Ms. Megara. I’ll keep trying and, when I do, I’ll be sure and contact you right away.”

“What’s the problem?”

My teeth started to grind together as I clenched my jaw. The woman was worse than pushy and I just wasn’t in the mood. I figured my best bet was to get off the phone before I said something we’d both regret.

Well, at least I’d have regrets if I said something wrong. I wasn’t sure Ms. Megan Megara was sensitive enough to have regrets.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Megara, I have to run. I’ll be in touch.”

Heading out of the office, I waved to Christian Kairos, who’d just come home from Olympus and was cleaning out his office to go back. He’d apparently found his perfect match in a young goddess named Arion and was returning to the city of gods to live.

A wave of pain swamped me and I realized I was jealous.

Really jealous.

I headed to my car, a bright red Jeep Wrangler, and slid inside, anxious to get home and climb into a hot tub with a chilled glass of wine. I pulled out into traffic and hit the power button on my radio, settling back wearily into my seat and laying my head against the leather headrest.

The sun warmed me through the open roof of my little car, great tunes pulsed from my radio and my body started to de-tense.

My cell phone rang and I reached for it. “Hello?”

“You’re a matching service?”

I blinked. It took me a moment to place the soft, sexy voice. “That’s right. You looked us up?”

“Of course I looked you up. I don’t believe my brother sent you an application. Why would Damian need a dating service? The idea is ridiculous.”

I changed lanes and flipped on my turn signal. “I can’t discuss this with you, Mr. Leandar. It’s between your brother and Cupid’s Arrow. I’m sorry.” I hung up and concentrated on driving.

My cell rang again.

Sighing, I looked at caller ID and saw the name Leandar. I almost didn’t pick it up. But something told me I should.

“Hello again, Mr. Leandar.”

“I can assure you my brother didn’t send you that application. You can destroy it. He won’t be returning your call.”

I felt my hot Greek blood beginning to simmer, not in a good way. “Are you saying that you won’t give him my message?”

“I don’t need to. He didn’t send you any damn application.”

“How do you know that, Mr. Leandar?”

“Because I know my brother. He’d never do something so stupid.”

“Stupid!” I was aware of a certain shrieking tenor to my voice but couldn’t seem to do anything about it. “Cupid’s Arrow is not stupid, Mr. Leandar. We’ve been in business for a hundred and fifty years and we have a ninety-nine point nine percent success rate matching people with their per—”

“Yeah, yeah. Save the commercial. I know what you people do…you match the ugly and unpleasant with the desperate and unsociable. My brother doesn’t fit into any of those buckets. He doesn’t need a matching service to get a girl, I assure you.”

At this point I was shaking with anger. I was so mad I fully expected flames to come out of my ass at any moment, propelling me out of my car like a shooting star. “And I assure you, Mr. Leandar, Cupid’s Arrow matches wonderful people to other wonderful people to make wonderful connections. Our clients are not unpleasant, desperate, or ugly.” Okay, a few of them were unsociable…I’d give him that.

Horns blared around me and I realized I’d crossed the center line and was intruding on oncoming traffic. I swore softly and overcorrected, nearly running the car next to me off the road.

“No need to swear at me, Ms. Googlios.”

Was that humor in his voice? How dare he. “I’m not swearing at you, Mr. Leandar.” Though it certainly was warranted. “I need to hang up now and concentrate on my driving. Please, have a nice day.” I disconnected and threw the phone on the passenger seat.

I took deep breaths to try to calm down and realized that I had a death grip on the steering wheel and my heart was pounding in my chest. I hadn’t experienced that much emotion in one sitting since I’d been a hormone-infused teen.

Pulling onto my tree-lined street I finally felt myself starting to calm down. As I pulled the Jeep into my garage, my cell rang again.

I grabbed my purse and, reluctantly, my phone and started into the house. “Hello, Mr. Leandar.”

“Okay, maybe I was hasty.”

I set my purse on the table by the door and went straight to the refrigerator. Maybe I’d skip the wineglass and drink straight from the bottle. “Maybe you were.”

“I’m willing to give you the fact that Cupid’s Arrow is a legitimate business.”

“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Leandar.”

“Okay, my bad. That sounded really arrogant, didn’t it?”

No comment. I pulled the bottle from the refrigerator and headed toward my room, bottle clutched in hand like a street bum. All I needed was a brown paper bag.

“What I meant was…obviously you do good things. You help people who need help finding love.”

Sensing just the tiniest bit of condescension in his tone, I frowned. “Actually we do help people. And we’re very good at it.”

“I get that. It’s just, my brother isn’t that type of person. He would never have sent you that application.”

Tucking the phone between my ear and my shoulder, I kicked off my shoes and dragged my short black skirt over my hips. My tights followed.

It was a little tougher to pull the white t-shirt off while using the phone but I managed.

“As I told you before, Mr. Leandar, I can’t discuss this with you. It’s your brother’s private business.” I headed into the bathroom. “He must have had a reason for sending us the application. Maybe you just need to trust his judgment.”

“He didn’t send you that damn application! Oh hell…” The phone went dead in my ear. I shrugged and set it down on the toilet so I could reach it if I needed to. I cranked the water of my Jacuzzi tub to hot and added some soothing bath salts.

At that point I needed all the help I could get with the soothing thing.

I divested myself of my bra and panties and climbed into the tub with my bottle.

“Ahhhh. Now that’s more like it.” Settling back into the lusciously hot and silky water, I took a tug from my bottle and closed my eyes. “An hour or two in this tub and I might feel human…er…goddesslike again.”

My cell phone rang.

I grabbed it and squeezed it so hard I heard the plastic of its poor little casing groan. Forcing myself to remain calm, I took a deep breath and pushed the little green phone icon. “Mr. Leandar, I’m trying to relax in a soothing tub—”

“Now that’s a pretty picture. Want some company?” The soft voice had lost all vestiges of anger and had been replaced with a decidedly lascivious tone. I wanted to believe it didn’t affect me but a tightening sensation between my legs would have made me a liar.

I sighed audibly. “Mr. Leandar…”

“I can be there in fifteen minutes.”

I sat up straighter. “I don’t even know you…”

“I mean, just to talk.”

I blinked. “Oh. No, that’s not a good idea. We have nothing to talk about.”

“I think we have lots to talk about. Do you need more time in your bath? Let’s make it an hour.”

“No. Mr. Leandar…”

“Man, you take really long baths. Okay, two hours but that’s my final offer. I’ll see you then.” He hung up.

I stared at the phone, my lips moving but nothing forming in my brain to push through them. I was shocked…appalled…disgusted…tingly. No, scratch that. That last emotion didn’t fit at all with the others.

I stood up and grabbed a towel. I had to stop him from coming to my home. It was wrong on so many levels.

I had climbed out of the tub and was nearly dry when it hit me. How the hell did he know where I lived?

Oh shit!

I dressed quickly in jeans and a t-shirt and headed out the door. I had Damian Leandar’s file in my car and I got the address off that. Driving way too quickly, I headed out of town, up nearby Mount Chartrain and toward the address listed on the application.

I found it on a winding, tree-lined road where huge, expensive homes sat nestled in the trees on the roadside, with an ocean view at the front.

It was a breathtakingly beautiful spot. And mind-numbingly expensive.

I rang the doorbell and waited, my heart pounding hard.

When the door opened I was shocked to find myself looking at Damian Leandar.

“Can I help you?” The voice was not unlike his brother’s but had a harder, more suspicious edge to it.

“Hello, I’m Athena Googlios, from Cupid’s Arrow.”

He stood there, looking at me with dark, sexy eyes.

When he didn’t speak I felt inclined to babble on. “You sent us an online application form.”

Finally the yummy lips parted and he said, “You make house calls?”

I laughed, flustered. How the hell was I going to explain? “No. I mean, I… It’s just that your brother…”

One thick, gold eyebrow lifted. “You’re here to see Peter?”

I dropped my purse and had to pick it up. When I stood my knees buckled and I almost fell. I dropped my purse again.

Laughing stupidly, I started to bend down again.

A strong hand grabbed my shoulder. “Let me get it.”

When he straightened with my purse he had a soft smile on his face.

I couldn’t help feeling like he was laughing at me. I frowned. “We need to schedule your pre-screening and I have a potential match for you…”

He held up a square hand with long, thick fingers to stop me. I couldn’t help wondering if what they said about a man’s fingers and his…well…other parts of his anatomy were true.

I licked my lips hopefully. Then berated myself silently for being a slut and a whore.

“Ms. Googlios, I don’t want or need any matches. I don’t know who sent you that application but—”

I nearly stomped my foot in frustration. “You didn’t send me the application?”

He shook his head. “No.”

I blew out a frustrated breath. “Then who did?”

He smiled, showing me beautiful, straight, white teeth. “I have no idea.”

My heart dropped in my chest. Damn! “Oh, okay. Then I guess we have no further business.” I turned and started walking down the steps.

I made it almost to my car before he stopped me. “Ms. Googlios…”

I turned, trying not to grin too widely. “Call me Athena, please.”

He smiled too. “Like the goddess.”

I laughed. My behavior to that point had been far from goddesslike. “That’s what I’m told.”

“You’ve come all the way out here. And it looks as if we have no business to conduct. But I wondered…”

He seemed to be struggling with something. His beautiful eyes swung away from me, searching the area carefully, before he continued.

I forced myself to stand patiently, waiting.

His dark blue gaze finally swung back to me. “Would you like to come inside? Maybe have dinner with me? I was just fixing a light dinner and I’d be pleased if I didn’t have to eat it alone.”

I wanted to scream, Yes! And run back up those stairs but I forced my head to nod sedately as I said, “I’d like that very much.”

He smiled and I moved toward him, climbing the stairs very carefully and dropping the long strap of my purse over my head and one shoulder so I didn’t embarrass myself again.

He stood aside and motioned with a hand for me to enter ahead of him.

I turned as I entered the house and caught him looking around the area again before following me in.

I wondered what exactly it was that he was afraid of. Because it was obvious that something had him spooked.

Unbidden, the picture on his application, where he looked haunted and brooding, flitted across my mind.

There were layers to the man who now ushered me toward the back of the beautiful house. Serious layers.

And I was as anxious as hell to start uncovering them all.

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HOT HOLIDAY HOUSEGUESTS by Cheryl Dragon

HOT HOLIDAY HOUSEGUESTS by Cheryl Dragon

Kelly always tried to be a good girl. Finally, she found the man who let her be a little bad with him and gave her the playful discipline she craved. That's the man to marry! Engaged and looking forward to a nice Christmas with his family, she couldn't be happier with her great guy and amazing sex life. Could she?

When her fiance Mark's two sexy cousins come to stay for the holidays and burst in on the couple during sex, her shock quickly turns to arousal. She goes from having one hot man to three, and Mark is behind it all. A girl could get used to having three men fulfilling her sexual needs. But is this a treat for the holidays or can she actually keep them all?

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EXCERPT:

Kelly put all the stress of the wedding plans and freelance graphic projects out of her mind as she lit candles around the living room. Mark’s big project at work was done, and they had a nice weekend ahead of them. She wanted to make sure they took full advantage.

She lit a fire in the big stone fireplace and laid out a thick blanket with a couple of pillows, hiding the handcuffs beneath one. She wanted her fiancé to get the message. She needed some attention.

Mark made her fantasies come true, but he’d been working so much she ached for his time. Being tied up, spanked and a little rough sex was in her future. He loved role playing, and she never felt self-conscious with him. They were a great match sexually and in the rest of life.

It was almost time for him to walk through the front door. She dropped her long silk robe, leaving the see-through lace slip she’d worn underneath. It was cheap and itched a little, but Mark tended to rip her lingerie. He liked that it was the same light blue as her eyes.

Plus the lace hid nothing from view. Kelly grew moist in anticipation. She pulled her hair free from the ponytail she’d worn while she’d worked, and the reddish brown curls spilled over her shoulders.

His key hit the lock, and her cunt tightened. No more working late for him; no more meeting and calls at all hours. Not this weekend. Christmas was this week so they’d have more time alone.

Mark dropped his briefcase as soon as he opened the door and tossed his keys on the side table. Taking off his coat, he finally looked at her.

Kelly smiled. “I missed you.”

Mark pushed the door closed. His wavy brown hair and big brown eyes made her melt, but that strong jaw and muscled form made her ache. The man possessed a confidence in bed she envied and needed. His devilish grin told Kelly the timing was perfect for a seduction. “Looks like you really missed me.”

His dress pants and shirt were gone shortly after his shoes. When he finally got to her, he kissed her hard, holding her against him so all that rough fabric rubbed her tender skin. Mark’s erection throbbed on her hip through his boxers.

“Sure you weren’t waiting for the UPS guy?” he asked.

“Only if I get you both.” It had taken her a year to talk like that. Mark had helped her be freer with her sexual needs and fantasies.

She knelt down and took off his socks then the boxers so he was completely nude. Licking up his shaft, she squeezed his balls. Kelly sucked him down then tongued the tip. It felt like forever since they’d been able to put the outside world truly outside their home.

“In a hurry?” He grabbed her hair and tried to ease her back.

Releasing him, she pulled him down to the blanket. “Not a rush. We’ve got all weekend. But I am in serious need of round one.”

Mark lay on his back and moved a pillow under his head, revealing the cuffs. “You’re begging for a marathon.”

“Not up for it?” She flicked her tongue on the tip of his cock and rolled the taste of his pre-cum around her mouth.

“Oh, you’re in for it.” He smacked her ass through the lace. “You need it faster so you better ride.”

She waited a few seconds to get another sweet slap on her ass. It felt so good her hips wanted to grind back for more. But her pussy’s needs won just then.

Straddling his hips, Kelly slid down onto his cock and felt that sweet reward of fullness. Then Mark gave her a preview of the roughness, jerking the front of her slip until it ripped and her breasts spilled out into his large hands.

He gripped her breasts and held as his teeth and tongue gave her nipples needed attention. The nips and sucks made her cunt quiver, and her hips took over. Riding Mark, she planted her hands on his shoulders and drove hard and fast. She could come twice to his once if she tried. But he could help or hinder that. He loved to tease her.

Her hips worked overtime, grinding on him, not wanting to lose the feeling of fullness. Mark lifted and his hands went from her front to her ass, alternately squeezing and spanking her. “You’re mine this weekend. You’ll do whatever I say.”

She gasped. Didn’t she always play into his fun? She’d do anything. The orgasm hit fast.

“Yes!” Her cunt contracted around him, and she fucked him fast to feel the full impact until the pounding of her release finally slowed.

She heard cheers and clapping. Her fantasies of being watched were never that vivid! Opening her eyes, she saw two familiar men standing there in jeans and T-shirts with big grins.

“Mark!” She jumped up and grabbed her robe.

“Damn it.” Mark tried to follow her.

She slammed the bathroom door behind her and locked it, something Mark had clearly forgotten to do with the front door.

“What the hell?” she demanded.

“Kelly, calm down and let me in.” Mark didn’t seem alarmed.

“What are they doing here?” She recognized Mark’s two cousins. They hung around whenever they were in town. The three of them were close, but she hadn’t been expecting company or she’d never have set up that fantasy in the living room.

“I’m sorry. I told you they were moving back East. Let me in.”

They needed to talk in private.

“Just you.” She flipped the lock.

Mark entered and locked the door behind him. “I’m sorry, but it’s really okay.”

She looked at herself in the mirror. Torn slip, breasts out, and a pink ass. “Okay? How is this okay?”

“They swear they knocked, but we didn’t hear them. I’m sorry I forgot to lock the front door. I grew up in a small town; I never remember.” Mark pulled her close and kissed her. “But it’s not a big deal.”

His cock, still hard and slick, pressed to her. She wanted more, but how could they do anything with guests waiting?

“Not a big deal?” she repeated. “How is it not a big deal that your cousins saw us screwing? Me in full orgasm. I can’t face them.”

His reaction wasn’t normal. They’d seen her practically naked.

A voice came from the living room. “Handcuffs. Kinky.”

“Mark’s lucky,” the other cousin said.

Mark sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s just not. I know you had a rigid upbringing about this stuff. But Jack, Paul and I all went to college together. The three of us shared an apartment for five years. We use to…share.”

“Share? Girls?” The idea sank slowly into Kelly’s brain. Her body and mind were both intrigued. Mark was sexually adventurous. “You’re all hot guys. You could have plenty of girls to yourselves.”

Mark grinned. “We did. I know it’s not typical. Look, Paul had a girlfriend who had a fantasy about multiple guys. She trusted us not to get greedy or nasty. She asked Paul, and we talked about it. It was amazing.” He shifted his arms around her, holding her hands behind her back.

“You don’t do stuff with each other?” How far did his kinky side go? These were thing a fiancée should know.

Mark laughed. “No, all the focus is on the woman. We’re related and none of us go that way. Trust me. Sharing is hot if the woman is into being adored and pleasured by more than one guy. We don’t do it all the time. Paul and Jack were totally into you at the family reunion and every time we’ve hung out. But, knowing your history, I wasn’t going to scare you off bringing it up before the wedding.”

“So the plan was to scare me after the wedding?” She shrugged. It wasn’t scary but shocking. Her family was so closed mouth about sex that don’t do it was all they’d say. When her older sister got pregnant at sixteen, she’d been thrown out. Kelly was left with the overbearing and overprotective suspicion heaped on her until she’d gotten away for college—still a virgin.

Mark made her feel safe and free to explore without the judgment her parents had dished out without even letting her date as a teen. She’d dated other guys but until meeting Mark when they were both twenty-seven, no one had made her feel free. Two years together and he kept amazing her. They were engaged and had a nice house.

“No, no scaring you. That was never the plan. I didn’t want to add to the stress of the wedding and the jobs and the holidays, especially if it wasn’t something you’re into. You like fantasy, power and role play stuff. I was trying to figure out how to bring this up.” He pinched her ass, and she pressed back for more. “Maybe you’d like it? Three hot guys, six hands, three mouths and cocks for you. I saw you looking at them on the beach at the family reunion.”

“They’re attractive. They look like you. I’d never cheat.” Kelly knew some might think her love of naughtier sex made her easy, but no one except Mark had seen this side of her. He was what she needed for the rest of her life. No doubts. Now, he wanted to shake things up?

He kissed her tenderly. “I know that, and I’d never cheat on you. If you’re not into this, it’s okay. If you’re interested in trying it, I swear it’s not cheating to me. You gave them a hell of a primer out there. I bet they’re hard already.”

Her face went hot. The idea of more than one man wasn’t new, but she’d never asked for it. How did he know her every fantasy? Mark wanted her to try it. He was hard for it. He had the guys, and she liked and trusted both of them. “Why are they here? Was it a plan? You didn’t know I’d be seducing you tonight.”

“That’s why I’m sorry again. They needed a place to stay. Their business bottomed out in Vegas, and they’re moving back to start over. I meant to tell you they’d be staying with us for Christmas.”

“All that work.” She nodded. He’d been stressed by his job. She could tell, and there was no way to help him. Making him feel guilty about this served no purpose.

“It’s no excuse. I could’ve told them to call you and set it up. I meant to tell you tonight, I figured they’d be in tomorrow or Sunday. I swear I thought they said Sunday morning.”

Kelly tapped her foot, but they were family. She’d never say no to them staying. It was the humiliation of being caught during sex that turned her on and embarrassed her at the same time. “From now on, we discuss houseguests before we agree. Your side or mine for any reason or length of time. I would’ve said yes, but I’m not ready for them.”

“You’re totally right. They were so desperate and pathetic. If they stay with the older relatives, they’ll go nuts. They’re crazy about you.” He nuzzled her neck.

“They didn’t seem to mind the welcome we gave them.” She chewed her lip to hide her smile. Her arousal returned. Three men. If it didn’t work, they could stop. “You’d really be okay with this sharing?”

“The three of us have been talking about it since the beach. You in a bikini made them lose their minds. But they went back out west so it made no sense. Now, that they’re around for the holidays it’s a chance to try it. If you like the idea, believe me I’ll get off on it.”

“And they’ll be living with us?” That temptation would be huge, not that she’d cheat, but it’d add to her sexual needs to see them. Her attraction to Mark and his cousins was undeniable.

“They’re good guys. You know them. Think about it. No pressure or expectations.”

Her fingers skimmed down his body to tease his cock. She needed to know for sure before she admitted her own curiosity. “You really want to watch your cousins fuck me? Eat my pussy?”

His hips snapped. “Yes.”

“You want me on my knees, sucking their cocks while they finger me?” She wanted to know it’d turn him on because once they went down this road, they couldn’t go back. Stop, yes, but not go back.

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LOVING RANGER by J. C. Wilder

Fourteen years of friendship, it all comes down to this... LOVING RANGER

A Men of S.W.A.T. story from J. C. Wilder

Sissy Kolchek is a smart-mouthed waitress with a southern accent that's thicker than honey and a life that isn't nearly as exciting as some people think. As the daughter of the town tramp, she's cynical about men, relationships and anything marked one size fits all. Beneath her wisecracks is a woman who secretly longs for a family and a place where she belongs.

Jason "Ranger" Diver is an undercover cop who has seen the dark side of love and wants nothing to do with it. With his chaotic lifestyle, he hasn't the time or the inclination to become involved with only one woman - especially not his friend Sissy. He's fantasized about her since high school and when they kissed, she rocked his world. Jace is captivated by the woman she has become and, as their relationship grows, he finds himself torn between the biggest case of his career and the love of a good woman.

Warning: Copious amounts of hot lovin', random bad guys wrecking havoc, a goat named Casper, more sexy cops than you can shake your nightstick at and the deliberate destruction of the English language.

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Excerpt:

The first time Jason “Ranger” Diver laid his eyes on Sissy Kolchek he couldn’t help but admire the unique way she made friends.

It was only two weeks into the new school year and an unscheduled fire drill had emptied both the high and middle schools leaving seven hundred students waiting in the morning sun. The unmistakable sound of flesh meeting flesh followed by a tremendous splash brought the mass of chattering kids to a halt.

Jace gaped at the sight of Brian Harding, one of his classmates, sitting in the foot-deep water of the fountain in front of the administration building across the street from the schools. Standing over him on the rim was a painfully skinny young girl. With her long white-gold hair pulled back into an uneven braid and tennis shoes held together with silver duct tape, she resembled a rag doll his little sister carried everywhere. Her big, gray eyes threw daggers at the wet sophomore, and her face was flushed with anger.

“Who ya callin’ Prissy Sissy, mama’s boy?” Her heavy southern accent sounded oddly exotic to his Midwestern ears. “You evah call me that agin, I’ll kick yer butt.”

His eyes widened. Harding was a bully and a braggart just like his father, Big Jim, a successful businessman in the town of Haven. Most of the kids had been subjected to Junior’s threats or temper at one time or another, and Jace was tickled to see that a girl had just taken him down, a feat even the senior class didn’t dare attempt. He grinned. It couldn’t have happened to a more deserving guy.

Jace’s twin brother, Jeff, nudged him with his elbow. “Who’s that?”

He shrugged.

“Miss Kolchek!” Mrs. Wolfe, the middle school librarian, hurried over to the girl. He winced when she pulled the blonde off the fountain none too gently.

“She’s gonna get it now,” someone behind him whispered.

“Young ladies do not use that kind of language, little miss. Threatening others with bodily harm is a sign of ignorance and poor breeding,” the librarian was saying. “You don’t want people thinking you’re uneducated, do you?”

The girl looked confused, her face scrunched up in concentration, then she smiled. “Well, ma’am, I doan rightly know much ’bout breedin’ an’ all an’ I hope to learn ’bout it in school.” She looked down at Brian. “What I do know is if’n he calls me prissy again, I’m gonna kick his ass.”

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SPIRITWALKER by Charisma Knight

SPIRITWALKER by Charisma Knight

Things can't get much better for Vivian Patterson. At the ripe ole age of thirty-eight, life is better than ever. She's got an excellent job, looks that kill, and a smokin hot bod. Oh she also has a loving, faithful boyfriend who sends her blood pressure skyrocketing through the roof. She couldn't ask for anything more, right?

Magnus Abernethy, Vivian's boyfriend is all any woman could ever want in a man. He is handsome as hell, has an adorable personality, and willing to go that extra mile to please his woman. Magnus is the total package. There is just one problem with this relationship. Magnus is a spirit, trapped within another realm...

This situation was never a problem for Vivian, but she discovers as time moves on, she craves him to be flesh and blood, forever, not just for an entire evening. Can Vivian and Magnus overcome a witch's cruel curse, and carry on through life, the way it was intended, or will the menacing dark force from their past threaten any happiness that may be in the stars for them?

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Excerpt:

Before getting dressed, she remained in the towel and seated herself at the vanity. For thirty-eight years of age, she was damn pleased with her looks. A few platinum streaks adorned her hair. Her skin was firm and showed no signs of aging. The beauty mark next to her left eye made her feel unique, and Magnus loved it. There was nothing about her he didn’t love. He’d spend hours exploring her curves and touching the small dimple in her chin.

Since she hadn’t had a chance to roll her hair the evening before, she decided she’d pin it up in a bun, leaving a few loose hairs to fall on her shoulders. She swore she’d never utilize another curling iron again. The damn thing nearly ruined her hair.

She hummed a tune Magnus had sung to her one evening while they lay together, talking about the simple pleasures life had to offer. After applying mascara and eyeliner, she dressed.

“Damn, you look good, even if you do say so yourself!” Vivian giggled at herself. Although not conceited, she was quite happy with everything she possessed, including her looks. Grabbing her purse, she floated out into the kitchen, poured her morning concoction into a large silver coffee cup and popped two frozen chocolate chip pancakes into the toaster.

She opened the blinds of the kitchen, allowing the beautiful sunshine to seep in. Reveling in the warmth of it splashing across her face, she closed her eyes and sighed, until she felt a hand on her shoulder. Gasping, she spun around and was immediately drawn into two gorgeous emerald pools.

“Damn you, Magnus!” Vivian held her hand to her chest, then swatted Magnus on the arm. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Vivian placed a hand on her hip and batted her long eyelashes at the handsome Scotsman. Her breath deserted her as she observed him in all his glory. The man was at least six foot two. Possessing a large frame, his chiseled muscles made Vivian’s blood pressure skyrocket. His long, thick strawberry-blond hair was parted down the middle and hung to his waist. She recalled how, the night before, she’d fisted her hands in the strawberry-blond mass while he lingered for what seemed like hours between her thighs.

Magnus’ face appeared to be carved from stone. His hardened features rocked her world every time they met. His squared jaw sprouted bristles of hair, and she loved to finger the deep cleft within his chin. She observed how his jaw muscles twitched; he was just as aroused as she was. She could tell because the twitching increased. If it weren’t for work, she’d bed him down in a heartbeat. She smiled as she observed how fine lines etched themselves across his handsome, manly features. In bed, she often found herself tracing those lines around his eyes.

“Nay, me love.” Magnus bent down and planted a kiss on her lips. When he straightened, Vivian released a high-pitched laugh. Magnus arched a brow and folded his arms. “What amuses ye now?”

“Honey, I’m sorry, but— Here, wipe your lips. You have my lipstick on them.” Vivian doubled over at the expression etched on her lover’s face. His forehead wrinkled, and the dazed and confused look he sported was priceless.

“Ah, wait till ye return from work. I shall make ye pay for this. Then again, I should be used to yer jests.” A smile formed on his lips and he pulled Vivian close to him, planting fiery kisses along the column of her neck. Vivian groaned as she leaned into Magnus’ strong, muscular physique.

“Tell me what you plan to do to me.” Her lips parted, and she gently raked her nails across the flesh of his chiseled biceps. “Oh Magnus, please don’t—stop.”

“I shall put ye across me knee and give ye a spanking ye—so deserve.” Vivian giggled. She had spent years working with Magnus on his speech, sometimes in vain, she thought. Entrapped within the thirteenth-century time frame, his realm held control even over his speech. Even so, he still possessed that thick, intriguing accent that sent her blood pressure skyrocketing.

“Promises, promises.” She wrapped her arms around his large frame and buried her face into his chest. “I love you so much. I have to go—off to the rat races now.”

“Aye, ye best be goin’ now. Off wit ye! I just wish ye luck once more.” Magnus bent down one last time, giving her a peck on the forehead. His scent mixed within her nostrils, and Vivian gritted her teeth as she glanced at the clock. Would there be time for a quickie? No, she couldn’t risk it. There were never any quickies with her and Magnus. She would wind up missing the entire day of work. Quickly she dismissed the thought and focused on her job.

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