Thursday, August 30, 2012

ALPHA ME NOT by Jianne Carlo

ALPHA ME NOT by Jianne Carlo
White Wolf Book Three

Susie White wants no picket fences, no alpha, and no cubs. White wolf woman she may be, but no pack for her, no sireee. Alpha me not, that’s her motto. In all caps.

Mercenary and half-breed wolf Joe Huroq’s not looking for a mate. Stop and go screwing, that’s his motto. Hot and heavy between missions. Then he glimpses his new neighbor tanning nude and the situation explodes.

Literally. Susie’s house is consumed by fire. What’s Joe to do but offer Susie his hospitality?

Susie can’t resist the temptation of big, bad, mercenary, so she suggests a friends with benefits arrangement which he accepts with an amazing alacrity. The sex is frantic, hot, and frequent. Neither one can keep their hands off the other.

Then children go missing. The fire’s deemed arson. Bodies pile up. Susie refuses to accept Joe’s mate claim. Can he keep her safe when she won’t obey a single order?


Joe Huroq tossed his duffel bag onto the bed, scrubbed the week’s worth of stubble on his chin, and blew out a long sigh. It had been a hellish three months, and he’d seen the worst of the emerging Eastern European countries, but the mission had been successful.

Yeah. Right. The team had rescued the kidnapped daughter of an oil executive from the scumbags holding her for ransom. But he’d taken one look at the broken shell of what once must have been a normal thirteen-year-old, and known she’d never be whole again. She might have been better off dead.

He knew not to go there.

The plaintive notes of “Stairway to Heaven” wafted to his ears. Joe grinned.

His back-fence neighbor, Terri, was in one of her moods. He’d learned to gauge Terri’s state of mind by the music she blared while suntanning nude in her backyard. That particular rift meant she’d had a down and dirty fight with her girlfriend, had a twelve-pack of Heines on ice, and was halfway to being pissed.

Joe’s grin went ape-shit wide. Exactly what he needed.

Shoot the breeze with Terri, get a nice buzz on, jump in the pool, and forget the bleakness in the teenager’s eyes. He shucked his button-down shirt, tossed his boots, socks, shed his worn and grimy jeans, shoved off his briefs, grabbed a towel, and padded to the back door.

Spring in Hallie was his favorite time of year. A light breeze lifted the noonday heat, and the fresh aroma of just-mowed grass perfumed the air. A seven-foot wooden fence bordered his and Terri’s backyards. She upped the volume when Joe slipped the deadbolt on the gate between the two properties.

Must’ve been a doozy of a fight.

Terri and her significant other, Petra, had a tempestuous, passionate relationship. He’d come to believe Terri secretly loved makeup sex and deliberately picked fights with Pet.

He spied Terri on the opposite side of the pool. She lay nude on a lawn chair, her face covered by a wide-brimmed straw hat. Joe raised his face to the sun and rolled his shoulders. No place in the world like the good old US of A, and nothing washed away the sins of the universe better than an afternoon of dissing the latest political gaffes and arguing about sports teams while drinking beer and scarfing down pizza. He studied the wispy white clouds dotting the powder-blue sky as he made his way over to Terri.

A four-seater patio table with an open blue-and green-striped umbrella stood adjacent to the twin lawn chairs. He glanced at Terri and frowned.

She looked...different.

Those boobs. Perfect. Rounded.

At least a C-cup, with milk-chocolate areolae, and fat, pink-tipped nipples.

His cock stirred, and he stumbled. What the fuck?

He’d never felt the slightest attraction to Terri. He dropped his gaze lower and salivated. Inky, tight curls framed a heart-shaped mound of pubic hair from which peeked the prettiest pink pussy lips he’d ever seen, bar none. His jaw sagged, and his cock vaulted to commander-in-chief attention.

Holy Batman and Robin. He had died and gone to vagina heaven.

The song ended. His knees buckled. Joe grabbed a chair to try to steady himself. The metal feet squeaked on the pavers.

Terri jackknifed to a sitting position.

Not Terri. Not Terri at all. Whoa!

The female scrambled to her feet, grabbed the towel from the chair, and clamped the terry fabric over those perfect breasts. “Help! Help!”

Joe blinked.

She spun around and sprinted to the small deck connected to the back of the house.

A fine ass.

High, muscled, and sweetly curved.

He licked his lips and focused on her sleek thighs and the hint of pubic hair that did a stripper’s grind-and-tease peep show with each long stride.

And all the while she shrieked like a fire engine on full alert.

The high-pitched screams made him wince, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her backside, and he couldn’t have moved an iota even if someone had put a GLOCK to his head.

She threw open the back door, raced inside, and slammed it shut.

Joe shook his head, hoping the blood pooled in his groin would somehow speed back to fuel his lust-dazed brain.

The crack of a window being opened penetrated his sex stupor.

“I called 911, you pervert. Get out of my backyard!”


That’s all he needed. He snatched his towel, hightailed it out of Terri’s yard, and locked the gate between the two properties. The local police station was less than five blocks away, and the notoriously underutilized force jumped at the chance to ticket a jaywalker, so Joe knew they’d nail the naked-guy-invades-neighbor’s-pool call in a heartbeat. He barely had time to gather his far-flung clothes and shrug on his pants before the distinctive whirring and staccato rapid-fire sequence of police sirens fissured the quiet of the cul-de-sac. Inserting first one arm, then the other into his shirtsleeves, Joe sprinted to the living room and flung open the door just as two cops, weapons drawn, pounded up the five stairs to the front porch. Hands in the air, he froze. “I can explain.”

The good officers didn’t buy his version of events.

“Exactly what offense are you accusing me of?” Joe asked after his fifth reiteration of what had happened.

The policemen exchanged glances. “Trespassing.”

A finable offense. “You can’t take me in on that. And there is the fact that a stranger’s in my neighbor’s house. What if she’s a squatter?”

One of the cops snorted. “A squatter who calls 911? Nice try.”

“I’ve owned this house for five years. Terri’s been my neighbor for three of those five years. Why is this stranger in her house? Maybe what you should be concentrating on is the fact that Terri’s missing.” Joe’s temper surged. Damn it. He was tired, hungry, and pissed. Not even the memory of those perfect breasts alleviated his anger.

The two men conferred quietly with each other.

“What’s the verdict?”

“We’re running a check on the property next door.”

Three hours later, Joe headed to the shower.

He stood under the streaming hot water for much longer than he should’ve, and still the tension in his bunched shoulders wouldn’t abate. No matter how hard he tried, the vision of those perfect breasts kept popping into his head, and his blasted cock kept rising in hopeful anticipation.

So Terri was in Ireland on an archaeological dig.

Joe vaguely remembered Terri mentioning she’d applied to be a member of the team assigned to a recently discovered Celtic burial mound. And this Susan White had rented the house for the period Terri would be away. Joe shampooed, lathered, and rinsed. He toweled off and fingered his jaw.

He mulled the situation over while shaving.

Once he’d come into his wolf, there’d always been a string of available women. He both relished and hated one-night stands and had fallen into the habit of sticking to one woman at a time. He picked females who knew the score and wanted regular, safe sex with no emotional complications. His frequent stints overseas resulted in stop-and-go fucking. A three- or four-month absence proved the old adage about the heart growing fonder an out-and-out lie.

He wanted Susan White.

And he was going to have her.

Joe dressed, spent thirty minutes on the Internet investigating his new neighbor, and then went out the front door. Whistling, hands in pockets, he ambled down the sidewalk. His street, Elm Close, backed the one Terri lived on, Birch Crescent. Both cul-de-sacs were mirror images of each other and ended in the traffic circles that fronted his and Terri’s houses.

He rounded the corner to Mission Street, strolled past Treehouse Park, and turned onto Bonaventure Boulevard. Glancing at the park as he traversed the five-minute walk on Champion Avenue, he noticed two junior soccer teams kicking a ball around.

Birch Crescent was one of those Hallie streets that exuded old-world charm. He fixed his attention on Terri’s country-style bungalow at the end and dead center of the road.

More a cottage than a house, the dwelling oozed quaint southern country. A wide front porch held the requisite two-seater wicker swing chair, and three antique milk cans painted a soft ivory dribbled a variety of trailing ivies, daisies, and pink petunias.

Side-by-side beds of cabbage-patch flowers, lavender, and catnip led to the steps and the front door. Joe hesitated for a second before thumbing the doorbell.

Positioning himself so she wouldn’t be able to see his face from the windows, Joe listened to the sing-song ringing and sniffed. The aroma wafting from inside was pungent with the perfume of garlic, onions, and basil. His mouth watered. Italian sauce. Marinara maybe. His stomach complained its emptiness.

The door swung open.

Joe’s dick went loco.

Long hair, straight as a pin, glossy and blue-black, framed an angular face and caressed toned, tanned arms. She wore painted-on jeans, a skimpy tank that molded those perfect breasts with tongue-licking caresses, bare feet, and she appeared about to plow him.

He was so done for.

Her eyes widened, and her nostrils quivered. “You!”

Joe’d been a Boy Scout. Always prepared. He stuck a booted foot against the doorjamb.

She tried to slam the door shut. He countered by exerting pressure on the wooden panel.

“I’m here to apologize.”

Her fierce scowl and narrowed eyes, spitting fire, damnation, and intent to maim, didn’t faze him one bit.

“We got off to a bad start. Your landlord, Terri, and I are good friends and neighbors. I’m Joe Huroq.”

Big, black eyes widened. She planted fisted hands on curvy hips and gave him the once-over, pausing with a lip-curling sneer at his obvious arousal, which thickened in optimistic expectation.

She tipped her head and pursed a mouth too red and full to be anything but sinful. “So Terri mentioned. She did, however, fail to inform me that the two of you, good buddies, tanned in your birthday suits regularly.”

She crossed her arms and pointedly cast her gaze to his groin.

“Hey, I’m only human. My dick’s reacting the way it’s supposed to.”

“Well, tell it to take a hike and wait for Terri’s return. I am not her fill-in.”

“Terri’s a lesbian.”

He suppressed a smile when her brows arched and she blinked and then gave a little head shake.


In her twenties, Terri’d been a centerfold of the year, and she hadn’t let her figure slide after turning thirty. Petite and curvy, femininity personified, she was the opposite of the female lesbian stereotype.

“Yeah. Go figure.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Can we start over? I’d prefer not to have to guard my back for the next year. That’s the length of your lease, right?”

A scowl pinched her onyx brows into a V, and she widened her stance, pelvis thrust forward. “And how in heck do you know that?”

Jesus. The memory of her pink, unshaved pussy had his mouth watering. He tried to erase all sorts of images from his cock-controlled head. “This is how it is. Terri and I get along. We’re friends. I’ve just returned to the US from Europe and haven’t had time to check e-mail. I thought you were her. You’re obviously not. Can’t we forget about what happened earlier and go forward from here?”

Her nostrils flared. “Why didn’t the cops arrest you?”

Now that comment made him want to connect his hand with her ass. “Say again?”

“Okay. Okay. I may have overreacted.” She shoved the door back and forth. “Terri did say you were one of the few decent guys still left on the planet. And that you could be counted on in an emergency.”

“Yeah. Well, that I am and you can.” Joe couldn’t stop picturing her fat, pink nipples. “So, want to start over?”

“I guess.” She toed a circle, and man, did she have adorable toes, especially the big one. Cute and plump and sloped to the left. Joe could think of a lot of uses for that toe.

“Is that a yes?”

“I guess.”

He rolled his eyes. “Can you be more specific? I’d prefer not to have the cops chasing me every time I speak to you.”

“They should’ve arrested you.” She twisted her lips. “Still, I guess it’s a case of mistaken identity.”

A big sigh.

Eyes to the ceiling.

She met his gaze. “Okay, I’m Susie White. Terri did say that you were a perfect gentleman.”

“Now I wouldn’t go that far.” He scraped both hands through his hair. “Pleasure to meet you, Susie White. Are we on the same page now? I’m not a sex fiend. And we’re going to play nice as neighbors?”

“Maybe to the first one. And yes to the second.”

She did that woman thing of tossing her hair and arching her neck, and his cock reacted with a vigor Joe didn’t remember existing since his twenties. Fuck. He sniffed, and her musk went straight to his head. He couldn’t wait to bury his nose in her pussy, and he rarely did the down under.

“Terri told me you have a key to this house.” Her mouth flattened, and she stuck her hand out. “I want it.”

Her lips were rose colored, and when she spoke, her mouth did this little dance with her teeth, kind of like a stripper’s bump and grind. Could she take him? Suck him down to the base? Holy crapola, he was falling fast and hard.

What the heck was she talking about? Keys. Oh yeah. He’d anticipated that move.

“Figured you might. Can’t say as I blame you. Here.” He pulled the key he’d stashed earlier from his jeans pocket and handed it to her. “If you’re up to it, I thought we could walk to Mama Maria’s and grab a bite. Eat with the early birds.”

She stared at him for a few seconds and then stepped back. Eyed him from boots to tousled hair. “Damned if I do and damned if I don’t. Okay. Let’s do this. Kill two birds with one stone. The gas ran out for the stove, and I can’t figure out how to switch the thingy. Terri said you always changed tanks for her.”

“What?” He’d been too busy planning the path from dinner to hot and heavy fucking and missed every other word.

Tanks? As in battle?

“The kitchen stove. Gas tank. Needs to be changed.” She threw him a superior sneer and raised one brow. “You fix it and we’ll do dinner.”

“Not sure I like how this is going down.” Joe resisted the temptation to tuck her hair behind her ears, check out her lobes. He had a thing for succulent lobes. “Sounds like you’re only agreeing to dinner with me if I fix the stove.”

“Brilliant deduction, Sherlock. So...what’s the verdict?”

“For the record, I would’ve changed the gas tank without the blackmail. And you’re appearing a lot less gracious with that last remark.” Joe stifled a grin when she colored from tempting cleavage to forehead. “I could’ve sworn I changed the gas tank for Terri before this last trip. Want me to do it now?”

“Damn it. Don’t you try to guilt me out. I’m not the one who waltzed into my backyard wearing not a stitch of clothing and a ginormous penis. And now you want us to cozy up and have dinner? Forgive me for jumping to the wrong conclusions.”

He held his hands up. “Whoa. How did we get from changing the gas tank to my ginormous--thanks for the compliment, by the way--cock?”

Twin slashes of red stamped her cheeks, and she squeezed her eyes shut. “I can’t believe I actually said that.”

“How’s about we really start over? Wipe the slate clean.” He extended a hand. “Hi. My name’s Joe Huroq, and I’m your next-door neighbor.”

For a long moment she stared at his fingers. Then she grasped his hand. “Susie White. Nice to meet you.”

A firm grip, a quick shake, and then she dusted off his hold.

“Dinner at Mama Maria’s? Or should I switch out the gas first?”

“It can wait till we get back. Hang on while I get my purse and find my shoes.” She whirled around, stomped her way to a small table beneath which lay a pair of flip-flops and shuffled into them. She stretched an arm to the coatrack and grabbed a denim saddlebag from a hook, adjusted the purse’s strap, snatched keys from a china saucer, and announced, “’Kay, cowboy. Let’s rustle.”

“Huh?” He knew what she was about, but playing possum would get them halfway to where he wanted. “Care to explain?”

“Let’s have dinner and establish a truce. But it’ll have to be quick. I have to study for a test tomorrow.”

“No problem.” He folded his arms and leaned on the door frame. “You might want to grab a jacket. When the sun sets—”

“For cripes sake. I’m an adult, not a child. And you sound exactly like my brother.” She twisted back and snatched a denim jacket from a chair. “Terri said I was not to bug you about your occupation, but that I’d get a kick out of it. So what is it exactly that you do for a living?”

Fuck, she deserved to be spanked. Hard. He imagined those high ass cheeks pinkened and hand-imprinted, and salivated. “I’m a mercenary.”


Monday, August 27, 2012



Uniform Fetish Book Two

Stephanie Vasquez can’t seem to keep the law off her back. Officers Grayson Myers and Dominic Weston are dead set in teaching her to abide by the rules of the road. As much as she’d love to give in to their flirtation, she’s hesitant to trust any men—even if they do look delicious in their police uniforms.

After she’s caught in the middle of a major crime investigation, her two cops take her into their protective custody. They teach her that it’s okay to trust them, to give in to their raw domination of her body and soul.

Grayson and Dominic have a lot invested in the feisty brunette. They want to keep her for themselves, to finally commit to one woman. But will the criminal element get their hands on her before they can prove their love?



Stephanie stepped out of her car without being told and waited with her arms crossed. She tapped her low heel, resting her hip against the driver’s side door.
When she saw him, her bravado quickly diminished. She stood up straight, dropping her arms to her sides. As he strode toward her, she fiddled with the hem of her jacket. She was surprised that he didn’t remind her of the Saturday night drama. All she saw was the uniform and his dark eyes completely trained on her. She felt a delicious violation, as if he undressed her with just a look.
“Ms. Vasquez, we meet again.”
“Have I done something wrong, Officer Myers?” She was surprised how easily the flirting came back to her. One minute she’d been pissed off with the world. Now everything was sunshine and daisies.
“It’s a one-way street.”
She looked up and sure enough there was another arrow pointing in the opposite direction. He’d set her up.
“You signaled for me to pull over.”
He shook his head, pulling out his ticket pad and pen. He flipped over the cover and tapped the pen to his thick lips. “You chose to turn here. I gave you a break last time. This is a second offense.”
His face was so void of emotion, she wasn’t sure if he was playing or serious. Then she noticed Dom exiting the passenger side of the cop car. Maybe he’d be more reasonable, like last time.
“What do you have against me?” she asked. “I really can’t afford a ticket for this. Just because you saw me at that high-priced gala doesn’t mean I’m rolling in money. I was just covering it for the paper.”
“I know.” He wrote on the ticket, not looking at her.
“How do you know? Does it say where I work on my police record?”
“You don’t have a record.”
The late-afternoon sun highlighted the strands of gold in Dom’s dirty-blond hair as he neared. She couldn’t help but stare at his broad shoulders, the way the navy material clung to his hard muscles. “Problem here?”
“Yes. Why am I getting a ticket?”
“You must have committed a crime.” They stood side by side, a massive wall of authority. She felt weak in the knees as a wave of want and need slammed into her. “Turn around and face the car.”
She frowned, wondering what he was doing, but complied.
“Hands on the car.” They were treating her like a common criminal. When Dom’s hands locked around her wrists from behind, her breath caught. “Now, don’t move.” She couldn’t even speak, never mind move. Stephanie should be furious, venting steam for the treatment, but she only wanted more. Her fantasies were playing out and she expected to wake up to the alarm clock buzzer any second.
He squeezed her arms from wrist to shoulder in slow, measured increments. It felt like a sensual massage more than a frisking.
“Aren’t female officers supposed to search women?”
“I’m just patting you down, sweetheart. Don’t get excited.” He skimmed the backs of his hands down both her sides at once. Her eyes lolled back in her head, her nipples pebbling. What she really wanted was for his hand to reach around and cup her mound. When he bent down and ran his hands down her bare legs, she nearly cried out for him to reach under her skirt. She was glad she’d freshly shaved her legs this morning.
“She clean?” asked Officer Myers.
“Very.” His voice was anything but professional. It was deep, promising hours of depraved pleasure. Was it wrong to hit on a cop? She wondered if these nuts would charge her for harassing an officer if she tried.
“Can I turn around now?” She still had her hands on the hood of the car as told.
“Good girl. You can follow instructions well,” said Myers.

Friday, August 24, 2012

NORTHANGER ABBEY by Desiree Holt and Jane Austen

It’s not 50 shades greyer it’s 100 percent hotter.
Devotees of Jane Austen or the Bronte sisters may wish to loosen their corsets and have the smelling salts within reach. Total-e-bound has taken some of the greatest works of English literature and given classics such as Pride and Prejudice, Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights a bawdy makeover. Desiree Holt is pleased to be one of the five debut authors, checking behind the bedroom door on Catherine Morland and Henry Tilney in Northanger Abbey. The series has received world wide press coverage (just Google Clandestine Classics and see all the links that come up.

Want to know more about them? Go here:
NORTHANGER ABBEY by Desiree Holt and Jane Austen

When Catherine Morland meets John Thorpe and Henry Tilney in Bath, England, she is thrilled by the attention both men pay her. She soon realises what a social climber John is, but it is the very handsome Henry who lights the sparks inside her. When Henry’s father invites her to visit their country mansion, Northanger Abbey, she is delighted to have more time to spend with Henry.
As the days pass Henry introduces her to a whole new world of eroticism, a world beyond her imaginings. A world where sex knows no boundaries and even her deepest, most secret fantasies, can be played out behind closed doors.

This is the story of the initiation into life of the na├»ve but sweetly appealing heroine, Catherine Moreland. A woman who suddenly finds herself an enthusiastic participant in the darker side of sexual activities. At the same time she finds herself embroiled in a real drama of misapprehension, mistreatment, and mortification, until common sense, humour and a crucial clarification of Catherine’s financial status, resolve her problems and win her the approval of Henry’s formidable father.



Darkness impenetrable and immovable filled the room. A violent gust of wind, rising with sudden fury, added fresh horror to the moment. Catherine trembled from head to foot. In the pause which succeeded, a sound like receding footsteps and the closing of a distant door struck on her affrighted ear. Human nature could support no more. A cold sweat stood on her forehead, the manuscript fell from her hand, and groping her way to the bed, she jumped hastily in, and sought some suspension of agony by creeping far underneath the clothes. To close her eyes in sleep that night, she felt must be entirely out of the question. With a curiosity so justly awakened, and feelings in every way so agitated, repose must be absolutely impossible. The storm too abroad so dreadful! She had not been used to feel alarm from wind, but now every blast seemed fraught with awful intelligence. The manuscript so wonderfully found, so wonderfully accomplishing the morning’s prediction, how was it to be accounted for? What could it contain? To whom could it relate? By what means could it have been so long concealed? And how singularly strange that it should fall to her lot to discover it! Till she had made herself mistress of its contents, however, she could have neither repose nor comfort; and with the sun’s first rays she was determined to peruse it. But many were the tedious hours which must yet intervene. She shuddered, tossed about in her bed, and envied every quiet sleeper. The storm still raged, and various were the noises, more terrific even than the wind, which struck at intervals on her startled ear. The very curtains of her bed seemed at one moment in motion, and at another the lock of her door was agitated, as if by the attempt of somebody to enter. Hollow murmurs seemed to creep along the gallery, and more than once her blood was chilled by the sound of distant moans. She began to wish for Henry Tilney to find his way secretly to her room to help allay her nervousness.
When the door to her room opened slowly she searched frantically for something with which to defend herself, not knowing if it was ghost of human who trespassed. When she saw Henry slip into the room, fingers to his lips, she poofed out a sigh of relief. Had just thinking of him conjured him up?

“What are you doing here?” she whispered as softly as she could, noticing that he had divested himself of all his clothes save a thin pair of breeches and a loose shirt.

“I feared the storm would disturb you and wanted to ease you through it.”

“But—But—But what if someone sees you walking around like that?” Her fingers gripped the bedclothes.

“General Tilney and my mother are long fast asleep,” he whispered back, “and I hope the same for my sister. However, since she sleeps two doors down we must be careful not to do anything to call her attention.”

“And what would we be doing?” she asked.

With a smile Henry approached the bed and eased himself down on top of the covers next to her. “I hope many things,” he told her. “I have felt this strong attraction between us from the first moment of our meeting and I have seen in your eyes a like feeling. If I am mistaken please advise me of it and I will leave at once.”

Even as the blood stirred within her and her pulse rate accelerated, she felt compelled to offer at least a token protest. “I assure you that I am still an innocent, an unsullied and respectable female.”

His hand cupped her cheek, turning her face to his. “My dear sweet Catherine, I am fully aware of that. I would take no advantage of that if you bid me leave. And if you bid me so I will be gone and this will be as if it never happened. But understand that you have my full respect as well as a number of other emotions that far surpass it. From our first meeting I have dreamed of being the one man to show you the pleasures of the body. I care for you so much. Please do not turn me away.”

She could have demurred further but she was so eager for his touch that it seemed to her a waste of time so she simply smiled and placed her hand over his. “And I have dreamed of the same things.”

Henry leaned his head closer to her face and placed his lips on hers. They were firm and moist and the touch was utterly pleasant. He brushed his mouth lightly over hers in a back and forth motion, teasing her, until his tongue peeped out to trace the seam of her lips.

“Open your mouth for me, sweet Catherine,” he urged. “Let me in.”

She did so and when his tongue swept inside it filled her with a sensation of pleasure that danced through her body. Her nipples tingled and at once the sensitive muscles in her cunt trembled. She felt the liquid of her arousal soaking the crotch of her nighttime bloomers and had to press her thighs together. All this from a kiss! Imagine! But it was far beyond any kiss she’d ever imagined. Henry’s tongue touched the inside of her mouth everywhere, sliding over her own tongue in a movement that coaxed her to let hers dance with him. He thrust it in and out, mimicking the act of sex she and Virginia had read about and arousing her even more.

Pulling the gown up far enough, he proceeded to pull one nipple into his mouth. Catherine’s breath caught at her throat as he sucked deeply on it then gently scraped it with his teeth. He cradled her breast in his warm palm kneading it gently as he continued to suck and nip at the stiff peak. Her blood heated and the fire roared straight to her cunt to meet the insistent throbbing in her already wet tissues. He gave equal attention to her other breast until she was arching up to him in delight.

When Henry lifted his head she cried out. “Oh, continue, please, I pray you. I cannot bear it if you stop.”

His smile was mesmerising. “If I am to continue we must move all this fabric out of the way.” He plucked at her gown, rucked up around her neck, and ran a finger around the waist of her drawers. “I wish to see your body in its entirety that I may worship every inch of it.”

No one had seen Catherine naked since she was a child with the exception of her good friend, Virginia. But she trembled in anticipation of Henry’s gaze taking in every inch of her and hoped she would not be found wanting. Mutely she nodded and allowed him to assist her with the removal of her nightwear, shivering slightly as the cool night air wafted over her.

Henry placed a kiss between her breasts. “I am not shy of my own abilities to warm you up but I think a fire would help us along.”

Catherine lay nude with her arms crossed over her breasts, her eyes glued to Henry as he built up the fire until it leapt into a nice flame. But the fire was not the only thing that heated her as Mr Tilney began to slowly remove his own clothing, draping it over the arm of a boudoir chair. She was stunned at the sight of his magnificent body, gleaming in the firelight, the curled hair on his chest slightly darker than that on his head and darker still as it clustered around his cock which stood straight out in all its glory. Her fingers itched to touch it, to rub herself against it. To see if it would fit within her as the book had described.

Henry Tilney smiled at her as he stood beside the bed, what she could only describe as hunger flaring in his eyes.

“Go ahead,” he urged. “Touch it. I can see that you want to.”

She reached out her hand and closed her fingers around silky skin over a hard as steel core. “Oh! It feels hot!” Experimentally she slid her fingers up and down, from tip to root and back again. It flexed beneath her touch, a most pleasant feeling so she did it again and yet again. The soft wiry curls surrounding it brushed sensually against the edge of her hand and by the third slide a small drop of fluid eased from the tiny slit in the head. Catherine stared in wonder and before she could help herself touched the tip of one finger to it. Bringing her finger to her mouth she licked slowly, enjoying the slightly salty taste of it.

Tilney’s expression heated as he watched her. Do you fancy the taste, then?”

Catherine nodded mutely.


Thursday, August 23, 2012



A thousand years without love can make a witch do the strangest things!

Elan Gibbs needs to save the woman he loves from servitude to a witch named Baba Yaga. Lisbeth needs to prove that Elan Gibbs loves her before she'll give her heart away to him. But a price has to be paid for their needs. And it seems that Elan will be the one to pay it.

Can his love for Lisbeth withstand the payment? Or will he fall under the spell of a sexy witch, who only wants true love to warm her endless life?


“You have only a hundred years left.”

Baba Yaga lifted her gaze to the god Perun, who sat in her favorite chair in front of the window, his fat belly straining the golden belt at his thick waist. “I don’t even care,” she told him.

Perun frowned, shocked by her response. “How can you not care, Baba? You will die soon if you do not stop offering boons to these human cattle.”

She turned away, staring through the window. The trees beyond the sparkling glass were green, vibrant with life, and birds sang high in their branches. “I hunger for love.” The admission was like bile in her throat, burning her with its truth.

The god scoffed. “You must come to Pirin. I will throw a party under the sacred tree for you. You can mate with one of my princes and live forever among the trees.”

Baba Yaga closed her eyes, despair sliding through her. “I wish to find true love, not a pale mating based on expediency.”

“You reach for the stars when a bright light will serve, Baba.” Perun stood, striding toward her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “Come. It saddens me to see you thusly. Let us return to Pirin and I will make you smile.”

Baba shook her head. “If I cannot find true love I would rather die.”

Perun sighed. “Very well. I wish you well on your search. Though I hold out little hope for your success. What mortal man would wish to tie himself to one such as you?”

With his well meant but cruel words, the Slavic god speared Baba Yaga through the heart, deepening her despair to a nearly incapacitating state. “I will find my true love, God of War. Do not doubt me,” she murmured.

As Perun transformed into the Eagle and flew from Baba’s lonely cabin in the woods, she sighed, praying her words would not be sprayed like acid back in her face.


ROCK IDOL by Veronica Tower

Today on our Cyber Launch Party Blog, we're celebrating Veronica Tower's sexy new IR romance!

ROCK IDOL by Veronica Tower

Reality With A Twist Series

Ember Blaze had it all and lost it—teenaged pop star turned middle-aged loser—but all of that changed when she became a judge on America’s new hit talent show, Rock Idol.

Now she has wealth, fame and respect again—everything she’s been missing for the past two decades—but a hot young contestant is turning her world topsy turvy. He’s got blond hair, blue eyes and a smile that has half the women in America swooning—and he wants Ember even more desperately than she wants him.

But after working so hard to get back on top, can she really risk everything for a few moments of stolen passion and the chance to learn to love again?



        Someone knocked on Ember’s dressing room door. It was twenty minutes before the start of the show and a bad time for interruptions. Hans had finally finished applying her makeup but couldn’t decide what to do about her hair.

At the sound of the knock, Hans threw up his hands in despair. “What is it now? Do they not know that there is an artist at work in here?”
He stormed across the room to the door and flung it open. “What do you want?”
Rick Rogers stood in the hallway with a single red rose in his hands and the same terrible striped shirt that he had worn in last week’s competition. “I, um, need to speak to Ember for a minute.”

“And I need sixty more minutes to finish creating perfection. He glanced at the rose in Rick’s hands and grinned. “But you probably think her perfection comes naturally. You may have three minutes and then I shall play God by once again creating angelic beauty with these two hands.”
Hans stepped out of the dressing room and closed the door behind Rick.
Ember stood up. “What’s on your mind?”
Rick crossed the room to join her. “I wanted to bring you this,” he said, “and to thank you again. You really helped me pull out all the stops last week. And I,” he handed her the rose, “thank you.”
“You didn’t have to bring me flowers,” Ember said. In truth she was slightly uncomfortable that he had done so.
“It’s just one rose,” Rick told her.
But it was a red rose, Ember noted, red for love and passion.
“Well, I’m sure you’re going to do even better this week,” she told him.
“I hope so,” Rick said. “I’ve worked hard, but the competition is fierce. It’s good to know you’re pulling for me.”
Where was Hans? Ember wondered. He needed to get back here and end this awkward conversation. “Would you like another piece of advice?” Ember asked.
“Of course,” Rick told her. “I’ll do anything you tell me.”
“Lose that shirt,” she said. “It makes you look-”
“This shirt?” Rick interrupted. “I can’t do that. It’s half my luck!”
 The bad half, Ember wanted to say, but what came out was something else entirely.  "What's the other half?
“This,” Rick whispered.
He leaned close and kissed her—his lips pressing gently against hers, warm and tender.
Taken completely off guard, Ember shocked herself. She didn’t pull away. She didn’t slap him. She closed her eyes and kissed him back, opening her mouth to let his tongue greet hers.
His strong hands gripped her waist as hers slid of their own accord around his back.
A knock sounded on the dressing room door, startling Ember into stepping back from Rick and breaking the embrace. She was breathing hard and her heart was racing—but whether with passion or fear of discovery she wasn’t certain.
The door opened and Hans reentered the room. “I cannot give you another minute. Even God, Himself, must have some time in which to work his miracles.”
Rick pulled himself back together. “I’ll be singing for you tonight,” he whispered, then turned and hurried from the room.
Hans watched him go, admiring his backside until the door closed behind him. “It is such a shame that boy is straight,” he said.
Then he turned back to Ember. “Sit down, dear, we only have fifteen minutes to finish making you radiant.”
Ember sat down in her chair—her mind a jumble of confused thoughts and sensations.
“You’ve dropped your rose,” Hans noted. He stooped down, picked it up and handed it to her. “And is that a smudge on your lipstick?”
He picked up the lipstick tube and set about correcting the flaw. “Perhaps it’s not a shame the boy is straight after all, hmm?"


Wednesday, August 22, 2012


Workaholic Simone needs a little computer help for her side business. What
she gets is a whole lot more!
Afraid of making the same mistakes as the other women in her family, Simone always focuses on work and keeps sex to the fantasy stories that fit around her schedule. When coworker and IT guru Jared finds her stories, he gives her a taste of just how thrilling the real thing can be! Forced seduction and blackmail turn Simone on even as she tries to resist every new scenario the younger man creates. From sex at work to doing a group and even satisfying the hot young executive who could fire them all… Simone might be saying no, but she’s finding out that it’s okay to say YES!


After a long day at work, Simone Yates set aside her laptop and took a short break. Jared Peters would be there soon. And she needed his help. Networking her laptop, tablet, printer, and her reliable old desktop to be one lean, mean computing system for her home business hadn’t gone well on her own. Simone kept people happy, not machines.

Opening the folder filled with her favorite erotica stories, she clicked on one called Forced to Please. She knew it was stupid to start a new story since Jared would be there any minute, but her personal time was extremely limited. Any spare moment she had for her favorite pastime—reading—was not wasted.
Simone’s life revolved around work. After coming home from her day job, her nights were devoted toward making her small, fledging business a success. Same with her weekends. Despite her busy schedule, which she nearly killed herself to maintain, her naughty stories were the one, small reward she allowed herself to have. She welcomed the rush of excitement brought by the explicit sex that helped ease away the stress of the daily grind. She grabbed short stories off the web. Then the shame would kick in and she’d spend all night working toward her goals.
She let herself get drawn in the story. Jared was always late. The IT specialist took his time but he could fix anything. He’d worked at Stewart Ltd., along with Simone, for the last five years. The guy might be young at only thirty, but he was reliable, smart, and not bad to look at. He’d done side work for some of the technically challenged people in the office before, so she felt confident that he could help her as well.
Simone hated to think she was one of the technically challenged. At thirty-eight, she had plenty of techno gadgets and knew how to work them. All the devices did what she needed them to do. Her small business even had its own app. But she couldn’t network it all together no matter how hard she’d tried, and the overseas tech support she’d called for help only made her want to break everything in her apartment.
Focusing on the story rather than the problem at hand, she let the stress slip away as the woman in the story gave into her desires and climaxed. Simone’s body heated up. It was all fiction. No one actually had that sort of dirty sex with people they barely knew. Reality wasn’t that good.
All her life, she’d watched her mother and aunts put up with men who believed that because they made more money, they made the rules. It was old-fashioned and, in Simone’s mind, crazy.
Strong men were incredibly sexy but the women in her family worked plus took care of the house and the kids. In return, they had men who watched sports, drank beer, and made no effort to romance their wives. Apparently “sticking around” made those men great catches for some people.
Simone refused to settle. Growing up, she was the only girl. With two brothers and a lot of male cousins, she got stuck with kitchen duty and assorted cleaning chores every day. As long the boys kept the yard up, they were free to do what they wanted.
No wonder she moved away and avoided serious relationships. She’d never end up like the women in her family. Being alone was better than the depressing prospect of always coming in second.
How many times had she overheard her aunts and her mother crying to each other? They often talked about leaving but were afraid they couldn’t make it on their own. As a little girl, Simone had feared that sort of big change. Now she was ashamed the women didn’t have enough faith in themselves to even try.
Simone worked twice as hard as the others in school so she wouldn’t be dependent on a man. Still, a good job with benefits and steady pay wasn’t enough for Simone. It was a good start, but now she wanted to work for herself. Being in control of her life was critical.
At least the X-rated reading fit into her schedule whenever and wherever she needed. It took her to another place and left her satisfied. Blowing off steam by dancing or drinking with her friends hadn’t worked in her early twenties. All they wanted was to get a man.
Finishing the story, she closed the file and put her laptop back on the desk. Normally she’d go and work off some releases of her own with her toys, but not now. There was definitely no time for that.
She did go into her bedroom to make sure her closet door and nightstand drawers were closed just in case Jared needed to go in there for some reason. Her office was in part of her open living room that flowed to the dining room, but she wanted to be sure he didn’t see any toys even if he glanced in the bedroom.
Jared was so casual, but there was something about him that made her very aware of his presence whenever he came around. Not like he was a company spy trying to get people in trouble. It felt as though he was genuinely interested in all of the people he worked with. She trusted him. The company would not like her moonlighting with her own business, but she knew Jared wouldn’t say a word.
The doorbell rang and she jumped up. Simone answered the door and Jared smiled easily. Short brown hair and brown eyes, he blended into a crowd. He wore shirts that were just a little too big but walked with a hint of a swagger.
“Thanks so much for coming! I really appreciate this,” she said.
“No problem. I got stuck at work or I’d have been here sooner.” He stepped inside. “Nice place.”
“Thanks. It’s all right there on the desk. I’ve tried everything I know.” She waved at the command center in the corner of her dining room. She didn’t entertain, so her small dining set left more than enough room for her desk as well.
“I’ll have a look. Any passwords?” he asked.
She handed him a sticky note with them. “I’m happy to pay you for your time. This has nothing to do with our day job. Home tech help would be a great side business for you.”
“Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind helping people out, but I like my job. Can’t work all the time or you’ll go crazy.” He sat at the desk and started with the desktop.
“I work all the time. How else can you succeed?”
Jared smiled. “You need to relax, Simone. Seriously. Have some fun or you’ll stroke out before you’re forty.”
“I’m fine.” She ran her hands over her pulled-back hair. Long, brown and pin-straight, the stuff never did anything without massive help, so she simply clipped it up behind her head.
“Sure you are. An attractive woman like you should have a boyfriend. Someone to take you out and make you laugh. Work is fun, I love what I do, but it’s not everything.” His fingers tapped at the keys while the laptop came to life. He had the tablet on his lap. He worked them all like a master.
“Can I get you something to drink?” She switched to hostess mode to change the subject. This wasn’t a conversation she needed to have with Jared. She might be considered attractive but Simone preferred to use her brain to impress people.
“Water would be great, thanks.” Jared nodded.
Simone went into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water. Not in a hurry to get back and have more awkward chitchat, she looked at her selection of frozen dinners. Food, exercise, and work were the routine.
Standing there with the freezer door open, the cold felt good on her heated skin. She tried to deny the arousal the story had on her. But Jared’s direct talk and casual attitude only added to it. He wasn’t drop-dead sexy, but there was something about his easy confidence that tugged at her sexual fantasies. Whenever there was a problem, he jumped right in and took charge of things. Generally it was computer issues, but he never second-guessed himself. He read people well, knowing which of the new hires would last and which would flee the company in no time. Part of her wanted to have a bit of whatever made Jared, Jared.
As she walked back into the living room, he smiled at her like he had a secret to share. He always did have good office gossip. He was so non-threatening that people told him everything.
She handed him the water.
“Thanks. So you’re all networked. I had to upgrade some of the drivers and software, but they’re talking now. You might want to keep an eye out for a sale on a newer printer that’s wireless. It’d be more compatible. When it’s in your budget.” He stood up and sipped the water.
“It’s done? That was fast. Wow, thanks! Next time I’ll call you first and save myself evenings of headaches.” She smiled.
He nodded. “You should do that more.”
“What?” She looked around and put her hands on her hips.
“Smile. Relax. Enjoy things. Come on around and I’ll show you the set up.” Jared waved her closer.
She walked over to Jared “I enjoy work. Getting a small business up and running takes sacrifice and a lot more hours. That’s reality.”
No doubt, she loved her work with customer service, and her side business would be even better. Her friends who lived for fun got pregnant by men who ended up never paying child support.
“Well, if you need tech help, call me. I don’t live far. Here’s the network. If something goes wrong, refresh the connection here first. Updates to one item might make the network sluggish or confused. A refresh could fix it all.” Jared pointed to the screen.
She nodded. “Okay, I’m fine with upgrading the printer if I need to. It’s a write off. I want reliable technology in place before I try to go full time on this.”
“I think you’ll do great. Just make sure to have some fun too. Maybe you should try some of that kinky stuff for real.” Jared screwed the cap back on the water bottle tight and set it aside.
“What?” She looked at his slight smile and her stomach knotted up.

HIGHLAND JACK by LaVerne Thompson

After 500 years Laird Jack Buchannan thought it was time to take a companion to walk with him through eternity. And since this was the modern age he'd try finding true love through a reality television show. But what he found instead was a witch who cast a spell on him.

Serissa Helstrom was a white witch who on a lark decided to join a friend on a reality television show. Not for one second did she take it seriously, until she found herself falling for a vampire.

Or was he just messing with her mind?

There were several squeals of excitement, even Jil turned to look at her and grinned. All the women began fluffing or smoothing their hair and adjusting their clothes. Kevin left the plane, but the assistant stayed and everyone rushed to peek through one of the windows for a first glimpse of Jack as he got out of the Range Rover. There was more than one gasp as over six foot of prime cut stepped out of the limo and planted booted feet on the tarmac.


Serissa wasn’t sure who said that but she couldn’t agree more. She’d remained in her window seat and the cool air from the vent blew right on her, but her skin felt heated and flushed from just the sight of him. For the last couple of months this entire thing had all been fun and games. A means to get her out of the slump she seemed to be in, just another lark she embarked on with her best friend Jil. After seeing Jack, that changed. Mine! The word rose up from the depths of her soul and shook her to her core. She shuddered at its strength and glanced up at the women leaning over to look out the windows. They all wore the same shell-shocked expression, Serissa was sure she did too. Jack packed a punch.

Maybe that’s all there was to it, he had some serious pheromones going, and she wasn’t immune, she was after all only twenty-seven a youngling. Some witches lived well into their hundreds. The women lined up again and after a lot of giggling and posturing one by one they left the plane. She and Jil were the last ones, they hugged and wished each other luck. By the time her turn came around her mind still churned in confusion from her strong attraction to the man. The closer she got to him the stronger the emotion. She barely heard what he’d said to her because she’d realized why they’d all had such a strong physical reaction to him. Her especially. Vampire.



Tuesday, August 21, 2012



Book 3 in the Demons in Exile Series.

Mortal women surrender to Dante’s seductions. He is a Drone, an immortal who feeds off their lifeforce energy—the chi that keeps his kind alive. When his dimension is on the edge of destruction, Dante must seek the help of one special woman.
Haley Moore is a Sha Warrior—a mortal with excess lifeforce. She’s always been drawn to Dante. When they meet again he thinks luck is on his side—his quota of chi energy would be obtained after one scorching scene with this mortal. The problem is that he is overwhelmingly attracted to her and once with this woman won’t be enough.
Haley tries to draw out the man buried deep within the demon. Their fierce, undeniable passion unravels his plans and threatens her life. But Dante is destined to leave Earth forever. He must choose whether to return to Prygos or give up his immortality and share his future with Haley.


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.
Copyright © KATHY KULIG, 2012
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
The skinwalker—part man, part coyote—shifted into his human form as he gazed upon the young woman, his quarry. She removed her clothes and dropped them onto the cool, desert sand. She gave him a lustful glance as if she was the one controlling the seduction. “Nice trick with the coyote. Are you a magician?” Her words were slurred.
But the trance hadn’t taken hold.

“Something like that,” he answered. He felt a flush of heat on his face. How the hell was she still aware? Something wasn’t right. This Kithra was different than the others, and he wasn’t sure why. He slid his hands over her arms and sparks skidded across her skin.

“I love the desert at night,” she added as her eyelids flickered. The air around her body crackled with electricity, her short, blonde hair stood out from the static. Not his usual choice for Kithras. He preferred ones with long, dark hair like the Drones from Prygos. It had to be her level of energy that drew him to this one.

“Yes,” he murmured, then waved his hand over her face, deepening the trance with little effort. He extended a finger and ran it down the side of her cheek, her neck, between her small breasts and cut diagonally across her flat stomach to her narrow hips. When his finger skimmed close to her pubic area she shivered and moaned. She was a slight creature with an athletic build. He preferred his Kithra to have a few more curves but she would provide adequate chi for his needs.

Pointing to the blanket, he smiled when she complied and stretched out on it, her arms and legs spread.

Dante Akanto gave her a knowing smile, stepped back and paced around the naked woman. He watched her hands slide over her breasts and rub her pussy. “Fuck me, Dante.” She writhed on the Navajo blanket, deep in the sexual trance, almost ready for the offering. A rush of hot, sexual sensations surged through him and his cock hardened.

No! He had to fight his urges or he’d risk killing her during the collection.

Beside her, a campfire blazed, keeping away the night creatures of the Arizona desert. She moaned, teasing him with her sultry movements and her scent. The look she gave him made him ache with a desperate hunger. The woman’s sexual appetite could yank her out of the trance if he wasn’t careful. Dante swirled the energy field around her, easing her deeper into his spell. Her eyes glazed over.

Better. Finally, this Kithra was becoming receptive to his influences. Her energy level was high and hard to manage. Probably a Sha Warrior. Lucky for him to pick a mortal with so much lifeforce. He’d meet his quota after this collection. Moving over to his Harley, he removed the rest of his clothes, cowboy boots, leather pants and hung them over his bike.

Naked and fully aroused, he stood over her and stroked his cock. The woman was quite beautiful. Was she purposefully downplaying her appearance by wearing worn jeans and a baggy T-shirt? What struck Dante the most was her eyes. Large and golden brown, they shone with intelligence, but also appeared dark with despair. Like a polished jewel that had lost its sparkle. He sensed a toughness within her, a fear maybe, brought on by a life of tragedy or loss.

Don’t get personal with your quarry.

He’d seen her walking along the highway alone. Young, attractive, fearless and carrying a backpack. A traveler? Homeless? He didn’t know. She was the perfect Kithra or quarry. She accepted his offer for a ride, with a little telepathic influence on his part, and he’d driven her out into the desert. No one would see them here.

She’d laughed when he’d swung the bike off the road, heading into open desert. While he made a campfire, she’d taken his Navajo blanket from the saddlebag and spread it out by the fire. Now naked and in trance, he craved to take her as a mortal man would take a mortal woman, but he couldn’t. She didn’t need to be naked for the collection. And tonight it was making his task more difficult.

Dante had to make his quota of human lifeforce energy to the demoness of Anartia. The immortals needed his offering to maintain their world. If he failed, he’d be replaced—destroyed—by Gwyllain, or her consort Tarik, the rulers of Anartia.

The woman watched him with hunger and lust in her eyes. The need to climax was great. His cock ached. But he’d have to wait until the offering. Stay in control. The more he teased and prolonged her orgasm, the better the harvest of chi. She whimpered as she watched him work his cock.

Straddling her body, he knelt on either side of her waist. Dante leaned forward and stroked her breasts, then eased his hand over her belly and between her legs. The woman sucked in a breath. The aura around her body told him she was close but he wasn’t ready to harvest her energy yet. As he rubbed her clit, cream coated her folds and moistened his finger. He plunged inside her pussy and shoved deep. She cried out, raising her hips off the blanket. The scent of her arousal was mixed with the scents of the desert—the earth, the sage and mesquite. He loved the desert, and he loved taking his Kithra here. The distraction of its beauty helped him control his own desire.

“Fuck me or lick me. I can’t wait anymore.” She reached down and grabbed his cock and squeezed him.

Damn, it felt good. But he pulled her hand away and pressed both arms above her head. He couldn’t risk having her touch him like that. It’d been so long since he’d had the pleasure to seek release with a human.

Leaning forward, he brushed his lips over her nipple, then bit gently and rolled his tongue over the erect peak. He repeated the tease to the other nipple and she moaned in pleasure. “So good,” she breathed.

“Yes.” He didn’t even know her name. No matter. She wouldn’t remember him after the collection. “Stay still,” he ordered.

“Yes.” She nodded and stopped writhing but he still ached to drive his cock into her. A vibration surged through him as he prepared for the harvest. Opening his mouth, he held his lips close to hers without touching. She parted her lips as if anticipating a deep kiss and her chi energy flowed in a stream of light from her mouth into his. She cried out as the orgasm shattered her but he held her down. His cock throbbed and his balls tightened, his body tensed, aching for release as the chi energy rushed into him. Control, control. He had to slow down or he’d drain her.

Sunday, August 19, 2012

A WARRIOR TO LOVE by Marisa Chenery

Today on our Cyber Launch Party Blog, we're celebrating a new release in Marisa Chenery's popular Warrior Hunger Series with Ellora's Cave!

A WARRIOR TO LOVE by Marisa Chenery

Book four in the Warrior Hunger series.

After a disastrous blind date leaves Alexis stranded, she hits up a handsome stranger in the restaurant for his cell phone. She connects to more than the cab company. One look from him has her pulse racing and other notable body parts standing at attention. Their instant chemistry has her night making a turn for the better.

A Warrior of Anubis since 1920, Konner finds the loneliness of his life getting to him. And being celibate for the last five years certainly isn’t helping matters any. But the sexy damsel in distress stirs passions long buried. He has to have her—in his life and in his bed. She’s everything he’s ever wanted in his long existence. But the nature of who he is could end this love affair before he has a chance at forever.


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: A WARRIOR TO LOVE

Copyright © MARISA CHENERY, 2012

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

“I was going to suggest we do something else after we eat, like going to a nightclub, but how would you feel about going to my place? We can play some video games,” he said with a smile. “See who the better gamer is.” 

Alexis had the distinct impression that if she said yes, playing video games wouldn’t be the only thing they would be doing. Not that that bothered her. She’d use any excuse to get someplace alone with Konner. 

“All right. You’re on,” she said. “So what does the winner get?” 

Heat flared in Konner’s eyes. “Anything they want. Within reason, of course.” 

“Of course.” 

Alexis would try her damnedest to be the winner. The thought of telling Konner to take his clothes off while she watched sent a flood of warmth through her body. Though ending up the loser would more than likely be something she’d enjoy as well. The way his gaze seemed to eat her up as he stared at her, Konner’s thoughts could be going down the same road as hers. 

“Then we’re on?” he asked in a voice that had gone a little husky. 

“Definitely. Just be prepared to get your ass beat.” 

“You’re pretty confident you’ll win. You’ve never played against me before. I might be the one beating your cute ass.” 

She gave him a smile. “We shall see.” Even though it was an offhanded remark about her ass, a thrill still went through Alexis to know Konner thought it was cute. 

They finished the rest of the food. To speed things up a bit, Alexis packed in the chopsticks and picked up the rolls with her fingers. Konner paid their bill, and they were soon outside getting into his car. 

When they reached the Southport Corridor neighborhood, Alexis realized Konner had never said what he did for a living. Whatever it was, she had a feeling it paid really well. That was proven correct when he pulled into the driveway of a majestic-looking Queen Anne house that sat on a large corner lot. The property had black wrought-iron fencing all around it. It also looked to be worth a fortune. Konner parked in front of a two-car detached garage and shut the engine off. 

Alexis waited for him to come around and open the door for her. Konner seemed to be a gentleman that way, always opening and closing it. With a hand on the small of her back, he guided her to the double doors at the front of the house. Inside, they stepped into an entranceway that had mosaic floors. 

“How big is this place?” she asked as Konner shut the door they’d come through behind them. 

“It’s sixty-four hundred square feet.” 

“That’s huge. I guess you don’t have to worry about feeling you’re running out of space.” 

Konner chuckled. “No, I don’t. Come on. I’ll show my media room. That’s where I have my systems set up.” 

He led her to a door that had a flight of stairs going down to what turned out to be a finished basement. Her eyes widened when she took in the catering kitchen. 

“Someone could use this basement as an apartment with the kitchen and all.” 

“I like my privacy too much for that, and I don’t need renters to pay for the place. Besides the kitchen and media room, I have a thousand-bottle wine cellar down here as well.” 

She blinked. “A thousand bottles? You can’t have that many down here.” 

Konner chuckled. “No, I don’t. The cellar is more for a wine collector, which I’m not.” 

He led her to his media room. There was a large LCD television hanging on one wall with a thick-cushioned couch facing it. The entertainment unit sitting under the TV had two gaming systems set up on it and the shelves inside were filled with games. 

Alexis sat on the couch as Konner walked over to the entertainment unit. “So what game do you have in mind for us to play?” she asked. 

He selected one off the shelf and held it up. “This. It’s a shooter. Whoever gets the most kills during a match wins.” 

“You’re on. Just to give you fair warning, I’m pretty good at games like this.” 

Konner turned on one of the systems, then put in the game disc. “So am I,” he said as he took a seat next to her before he handed her a wireless controller. 

As they played, Alexis soon found out Konner was as good as he’d said. He was definitely giving her a run for her money. She even wondered if she’d be able to beat him. Plus, it didn’t help that he sat so close their thighs touched. His body heat sank into hers, making her very aware of him. With each breath she took, she pulled in the scent of his aftershave and the one that was totally his own. Alexis found it hard to keep her full attention on the game, which caused her to make some silly mistakes that worked out in Konner’s favor. If he was as affected by her nearness as she was by his, he didn’t show it. And it sure didn’t seem to hinder his playing abilities, either. 

But somehow Alexis managed to pull off the win in the last few seconds of the match. She let out a whoop as their scores appeared on the TV screen. The difference was only by one kill, but she’d take it. 

“I guess that makes me the better gamer,” she said as she turned to look at Konner. 

“Or you just were lucky,” he replied. 

“Either way I still won.” 

Konner took the controller from her, then stood and returned hers and his to the entertainment unit. He took out the game disc and shut off the system before he once again sat beside her. 

“All right, winner. You can have anything you want. So what will it be?” 

Alexis didn’t even hesitate. “You.”


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