Tuesday, March 22, 2011

A BREATH OF HEATHER by Barbara Clark

Book: Sons of Earth and Wind, Book II; A BREATH OF HEATHER by Barbara Clark

In the second book of her contemporary paranormal romance series, Barbara Clark tells us more about Heather Carter who was introduced in Book I, Tears of the Hawk .

Heather Carter, a gentle psychic with a painful secret, struggles against danger and her attraction to the former covert agent, Quinn Archer.

Quinn, betrayed in the past by a woman with secrets, is stunned by his desire for Heather, a desire he fights. But as he takes on the self-appointed task to protect her, will he learn too late that loving Heather will free him from the chains of the past?

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Excerpt:
...He drew her right hand to his lips and kissed each fingertip, watching her eyes grow darker. As he touched his tongue to the tender skin between her fingers, she trembled.

“Quinn.” Her breathing quickened, and she laid her fingers on his chest. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“On the contrary. It’s a very good idea,” he said in a low voice, pressing his lips to her palm.

Closing her hand as if to treasure the kiss, she whispered his name.

He stroked his fingers down her arms, and held her. The warm silkiness of her skin, her sweet scent of roses and woman sent the blood pounding through his veins. “I want to taste you again.”

Wordlessly, she lifted her face to him.

Bending his head, he feathered kisses across her forehead to her temples where the blood pulsed under delicate skin. There, he lingered, tasting, savoring the sweetness and the hint of salt.

Overhead, the evening sky was clear and dotted with stars.

The prevailing breeze whirled around them, carrying the scents of fresh grass and flowers.

Brianna’s wind chimes played a mystical sounding melody.

Shifting his hold on Heather, he cradled her head in one hand. Her shimmering hair took on a life of its own, as strands drifted around his wrist. He spread his fingers across the middle of her slender back, holding his eagerness in check. She needed tenderness tonight, not speed.


“I can’t get enough of you,” he muttered, and traced the soft fullness of her lips with the tip of his tongue.


Murmuring his name, she wrapped her arms around his waist, melting and flowing against him.

Her surrender intoxicated him. The blood roared in his ears. A hot wave swept through him, and he struggled to contain the primitive urge to take her right there on the grass.

Then he felt her lips on his throat, and his control snapped. His mouth captured hers in a blaze of passion, his tongue slipping past her teeth to the softness beyond. Her tongue touched and mated with his. She moaned and her fingers dug into his back through the thin barrier of his shirt.

Shifting his stance, he pressed his arousal against the feminine heat between her thighs.

Her low, sensuous sound of approval sent his blood racing in an explosion of need.

He wanted, had to have her now, and to hell with anyone or anything...

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