Showing posts with label Angels and Demons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Angels and Demons. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

MAGIC'S DAUGHTER by Ann Gimpel

MAGIC'S DAUGHTER by Ann Gimpel

Destined to be surrounded by magic yet have none of her own, Cassie walks a thin line between love and danger. Her mother is dying and her boyfriend has turned into something which terrifies her. By the time she wakes up to the danger she’s in, it’s nearly too late. 

Cassie’s friend, Jeremy, warns her about her scumbag boyfriend, but she doesn’t listen until deeply disturbing events unfold and her life hangs in the balance. With few choices left, she and Jeremy join forces to battle the darkness threatening them. Meanwhile, Cassie warms to Jeremy in ways she never could have anticipated. Love was there all along if she’d just opened her eyes and looked.

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 Magic's Daughter
Ann Gimpel

Chapter 1

Cassionetta Ceobbinn sat in her old Subaru and rested her forehead against its steering wheel. Her electronic design work had ground to a halt an hour earlier and a headache pounded behind one eye. The garage of the Capitol Hill mansion rose around her, silent as a crypt. Her mother’s Aston Martin sat off to one side, gleaming white in the semi-darkness. Cassie girded herself to open her car door, grab her things, and go inside. “It’s my house, goddammit,” she muttered to boost her courage. “So what if he sent me a text message not to come home.”

The garage lights came on, blinding her. The door leading into the house crashed against the wall. Before the ringing in her ears subsided, her live-in boyfriend stomped to her car. Well, the live-in part was still accurate. The boyfriend part seemed to have evaporated like so much smoke.

“You weren’t supposed to come home tonight,” he growled. “I texted you hours ago. You can just turn that piece of shit you drive around and go stay at your mother’s office.”

Fury boiled up from her guts. She took aim and opened the car door hard into his midsection, hoping she could clip a ball for good measure.

“Oooph. You little bitch.” He jumped back, rubbing his stomach.

You bet I am. High heels slapping the concrete floor, she jumped out of her car and stood eyeball to eyeball with him. “This is my mother’s house, Tyler MacKenzie. I live here. Or have you forgotten?” Cassie yanked her shoulder bag and computer case off the passenger side of the front seat and stormed past him.

He grabbed her arm before she reached the steps leading into the kitchen. “I have people over. It’s the full moon. I’m leading a séance. Your presence would disturb the energy.”

She twirled to face him, breaking his grip. “You mean you have mother’s clients over. Where is she, by the way?”

He shrugged. “Don’t know. Haven’t seen her.”

Cassie turned away from him. He closed his hand over her arm again, hard enough to make her squeal. “If you don’t let me go,” she snarled through clenched teeth, “I will call the police.”

His fingers loosened marginally. “But, sweetie…”

She heard compulsion beneath his words. Cassie didn’t have any magic of her own, but she recognized it in others. When Tyler had wanted her to fall in love with him, he’d used honeyed words all the time. They’d only stopped once she’d let him move in.

“Can it.” She twisted her head so she could lock gazes with him. “Let me go. Now.” His hand fell away. “I want you out of here tomorrow—”

His eyes narrowed. He shoved long, red-gold hair out of his face and sneered at her. “Fat fucking chance of that. We’ve had this conversation one too many times for my liking. I’m here, and I intend to stay. There’s nothing you can do about it. Unless you want to meet with an unfortunate accident.”
A nasty laugh bubbled past lips she’d once thought were full and sensual. “Of course something like that could happen anyway. If I were you, sweetie, I’d watch my back.”

Cassie shuddered. She swallowed, but her mouth was dry. Maybe she’d underestimated Tyler. Once they’d stopped getting along, she’d seen him as an inconvenience, not a menace. He’d never sounded quite like this before though. There’d been threats, but they’d been subtle, veiled in double entendre.
She squared her shoulders and turned to face him. It was the kiss of death to let bullies know they were getting to you. “I’m done with your crap.” She infused as much venom as she could into her voice. “I will call the police. You threatened me.”

He snorted. “I’d just deny it. They’ll believe we had a lover’s spat. Women are so emotional.” His blue eyes gleamed with an unnatural light.

She blinked. For a moment, he looked like a demon one of her mother’s psychic friends had raised by accident. Cassie knew enough about demons—interdimensional beings which traveled from world to world wreaking havoc—for the idea of them to scare the shit out of her.

Don’t be ridiculous. Ridiculous, ridiculous echoed in her head. I’m seeing things.

Her heartbeat sounded loud in her ears; her hands fisted at her sides. “You’d better get back to your séance. Wouldn’t want any of those high rollers to get away.” He took a menacing step toward her; his mouth was set in a hard line. She sucked in a breath, ready to defend herself.

Thank Christ he spun on his heel and trotted smartly back into the house. Tyler cut an elegant figure with his richly-embroidered gypsy cape, broad shoulders, and classically handsome Nordic features.
Flowing ruby silk pants rode low on his slim hips. No wonder she’d been taken in by him.

Fuming—and scared half to death—she followed him into the house, but turned a hard left before she reached the kitchen and took what had once been the servants’ staircase. It had been stupid to fall for Tyler, one of the dumbest things she’d ever done, but there was no going back. She couldn’t unravel time and choose not to tumble into his arms and his bed. That part was a done deal. If she listened to him, his residency at chéz Eleanora was a done deal as well.

Shit!

Worry for her mother filled her, obliterating her fears for her own safety. Eleanora Ceobbinn was—or had been—a well-known psychic, but she’d apparently made one too many trips to the far side of the veil. She was still alive, but she hadn’t spoken a word in nearly a year and spent the majority of her time rattling around their old house like a ghost.

Eleanora had come from money—and made plenty on her own—so at least that wasn’t a problem, but Cassie’s mother was definitely fading. It was almost as if someone—Tyler?—were feeding off what little energy she had left.

Unable to shake her earlier sense of foreboding, Cassie shivered. If she hadn’t been holding onto her purse and computer bag, she would have wrapped her arms around herself.

Maybe because she was thinking about her mother—and the house had a mind of its own—she wasn’t surprised to find herself beneath a full-sized oil painting of Eleanora. Lush dark hair ended at knee-level and her haunting violet eyes seemed alive. People had told Cassie she looked like her mom, but she’d never thought so. Eleanora was beautiful—and ageless. Cassie had the hair and the eyes and the striking six foot height, but the effect wasn’t nearly the same.

She still had no idea what had gone wrong the day her mother had checked out. She’d come home from work to find Eleanora sprawled face down on the Oriental carpet in the séance room, candles smoking black gouts of greasy flame. If there’d been clients, they were nowhere to be found.

Her mother had regained consciousness, but that had been about all. Cassie had known better than to lug Eleanora around to a bunch of other doctors with their uncomfortable questions and pained silences after the first one had asked, “Your mother does what for a living?”

Cassie dragged her gaze away from the portrait. As a little girl, she’d believed her mother’s painted eyes were the gateway to a magical world. She’d asked Eleanora and her mother had smiled shrewdly. “Stranger things have happened, child,” she’d said. “It’s best not to test this one.”

Cassie pulled a key out of her bag, unlocked her bedroom door, and then used the voice activated electronics she’d designed to spring the second lock. She was almost positive Tyler was stealing from her, but that wasn’t why she kept her door locked. Even the marginally gifted could wreak havoc if they got hold of your things. Her father, Francis Statton Braxbury, a British seer, had taught her that before his visits to Eleanora had petered out.

Cassie locked her door behind her and tossed her things in a chair. Kicking off her high heels, she sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed her sore arches. This thing with Tyler was way out of control. He’d shown up right before her mother’s accident. Lost in the first flush of sex with a new man, she hadn’t realized it was a shade too convenient that he just happened to be there to snap up all her mother’s clients.

That had been nearly a year ago. Tyler had dropped any pretense of a relationship with her after the first few months, but he’d been marginally friendly—and even polite—until recently. She shook her head, trying to figure out what had changed. It had actually been useful to have him help watch Eleanora, which was why she hadn’t tried harder to get rid of him.

Most of her non-Eleanora time was devoted to developing an electronic version of the Ouija Board because she hoped she could use it to reach her mother. Usually her circuitry was spot on, but for some reason this project had dragged on for months, dogged by one setback after another. It was like everything she’d learned getting her degree in electrical engineering didn’t work quite right. She was still stuck on the basic circuit board design. Until it worked right, there wasn’t much point in designing software or hunting for a microprocessor.

Speaking of which … I need to hunt for Mother. Cassie got to her feet and stuffed them into slippers before heading into the hall. She glanced around nervously before locking her door. Tyler had moved into the guest suite at the north end of the ground floor, but the mood he was in, it paid to be vigilant.
“Mrroww.” Hector, Eleanora’s large, black tomcat, landed lightly not ten feet from her, tail pluming as it swished back and forth.

Cassie jumped. “Where’d you come from?” She bent to scratch his head. The cat arched his back in pleasure. “Do you know where Mother is?”

“Mrroww.” Swish, swish.

“I take it that’s a no.” She turned a wall dial. Crystal sconces lining the long hallway brightened. Polished hardwood with Aubusson runners stretched before her. Leaded glass panes lined the hall. Priceless paintings graced the walls at intervals, interspersed with elegant bronze sculptures. Cassie checked her mother’s bedroom. Empty. Eleanora’s wonderful, earthy scent lingered. It made her heart ache. If ever she needed one of her parents, it was now.

I need to stop feeling sorry for myself. I’m twenty-five, for God's sake. Time to fight my own battles.
Not finding Eleanora anywhere on the second floor, Cassie mounted the stairs to the third. She heard faint chanting coming from downstairs and wondered whose dead relative was on the hook tonight. She believed in the spirit world and had always trusted Eleanora to hold the gates. Her faith in Tyler’s ability to do the same was pretty truncated.

Oh my God. Is that how he’s planning to hurt me? By proxy?

Her heart slammed against her chest. It was hard to breathe around the thickening in her throat. Some spirits could do a lot of damage, mostly through suffocation or running people off cliffs…

“Stop it.” She spoke out loud to get a grip on what was starting to feel a lot like out-of-control panic. “Just find Mom. Make sure she’s okay.” It did occur to her that if Eleanora were truly missing, it would give her the perfect excuse to clear out all the New Agers at the séance and call the police.
There were seven bedrooms on the third floor. Eleanora was in the one at the far end of the hall, staring out its large windows into the night. Cassie left the bedroom lights off. Enough illumination filtered in from the hall which was twin to the one on the floor below. “Mother?” She crept forward and laid a hand on Eleanora’s arm. Her mother flinched and shook her off.

Cassie’s eyes flooded. Even though her mother wasn’t really rejecting her, it still hurt. Especially now that she felt so alone and vulnerable.

“Mrroww.”

Cassie looked around. Hector sat in the doorway, ears pricked forward. She hadn’t realized he’d followed her.

Eleanora turned and went to the cat. Maybe his non-human frequency was easier for her to respond to. He twined himself around her legs, purring for all he was worth. She reached down and petted him and then drifted into the hall like a sleepwalker. Cassie thought about trying to talk to her mother again, but gave it up for wasted effort. Either Eleanora couldn’t hear her, or she couldn’t answer.
Maybe both.

Her mother was dressed all in black as always; her skirts swirled around her as she walked. Cassie followed her back to the second floor and breathed a sigh of relief when her mother went into her bedroom and shut the door behind her. The snick of the deadbolt was loud in the silence of the hall.
“Mrroww.” Hector’s tail swished faster. He looked annoyed. The cat lifted a paw and left a long scratch in the wood next to Eleanora’s door.

“It’s okay. You can sleep with me.”

Cassie strode the few feet to her own room and unlocked the door. Hector raced inside. Who knew? Maybe the séance made him just as uncomfortable as it made her. The rise and fall of voices from below hadn’t abated. She pulled the door shut and secured it, wishing she’d inherited some sort of magical ability. Almost anything would be helpful. Telepathy to read Tyler’s mind. Clairvoyance to peek into the future. Medium skills to raise spirits to protect herself—or harm him.

She strode across the room and pawed through a bottom drawer, coming up with a dog-eared card. It was one of the last birthday cards her father had given her before he’d declared her too old for such nonsense. She dug a small, flat crystal out of the envelope. Her father had said if she ever needed him to hold the crystal in her hand and think of him. He’d told her to plan ahead because results wouldn’t be immediate, and she might have to do it more than once.

Cassie stared at the clear stone with amber flecks deep inside. She set it down, unzipped her black wool skirt, and let it pool around her feet. Her green cashmere sweater came next. She bundled both up and took them to her closet where she hunted down some hangers. Grabbing purple sweats off the floor, she pulled them on and returned to the table where she’d left the crystal. Her hand hovered over it before she picked the crystal up again.

What about fighting my own battles?

To hell with that. What about being so stubborn I end up dead?

Hector jumped onto the bed and groomed himself. She flopped down next to him and kicked off her slippers. She didn’t want to bother her father in London unnecessarily—cripes, she hadn’t seen him since she was ten—but the escalating tension between Tyler and her was more than a little unnerving. I need help, but it’s not fair to involve anyone else. Cassie blew out a tense breath. Her magical heritage had been quite effective at sealing her off from casual friendships. She’d always been afraid something would slip, and the person would think she was crazy.

Rubbing her temples—the headache was behind both eyes now—once again she considered involving the police. Even if she got them to chase Tyler off, unless she hired a bodyguard, he’d probably worm his way back into the house. And then he would kill her, as retribution for calling in the law if nothing else. Tyler had a pretty sweet deal. One he planned to hang on to. He’d made that patently clear in the garage.

Wonder why it’s taken me so long to figure out how toxic he is?

Feeling like a gullible idiot, and a weak one at that, she let the stone warm in her hand and thought of her father.

Cassie didn’t realize she’d fallen asleep until her standard ringtone—“Ode to Joy”—sounded from the depths of her shoulder bag. Staggering muzzily across the room, she located the phone and punched answer without focusing on the display.

“Cass?”

Her eyes widened. “Jeremy? What time is it?”

“Past midnight. Sorry to wake you, but—”

She picked her way back to the bed, cursing when she stepped on one of the high heels she’d discarded earlier.

“Are you all right?” He sounded worried.

“Uh, yeah. Just stepped on something sharp. Give me a second to get back under the covers. It’s cold in here.” She pulled the duvet up to her chin. “Okay, all set. What’s up?”

“I just got this feeling…” His voice trailed off again.

Cassie sat up straighter in bed, not feeling sleepy at all anymore. Something in her friend’s voice was … unsettling. Jeremy was almost her only friend; she’d known him forever. Psychic like her mother, he definitely marched to his own drummer. “Whatever it is, just spit it out. Sometimes it’s easier that way.”

A sigh rattled through the cellular network. “It’s hard to explain, but I felt something and thought you were in danger.”

Cassie sucked in a breath. For the briefest of moments she considered telling him everything but then reined herself in. No point in getting Jeremy riled up about Tyler’s threats. This wasn’t really his problem. Besides, she was embarrassed about fessing up to her own stupidity. Yeah, I was so desperate for a guy to want me, I didn’t read the fine print.

“Cass? You’re pretty silent over there. It is not making me feel any better.”

“Huh? Oh,” she forced out a light laugh. “Tyler held a séance earlier, but I’m sure they’ve mostly left by now. I could go look—”

“No!” The single word thundered in her ear.

“Okay, okay. You don’t have to shout at me.”

“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to.” He cleared his throat. “I probably shouldn’t have bothered you. Promise me you’ll stay in your room until daylight.”

“Sure.” Confusion and an uneasy sensation made her feel ill.

“Call me tomorrow.”

The sick feeling did not get any better. Jeremy had never felt the need to check on her before. “I’m spending all day working on e-Ouija.”

“Okay, I’ll call you. Sleep well, Cassie. Sorry to wake you.”

“Jeremy?”

He wasn’t there. She clicked end call and shut off her phone. To her surprise, she could barely keep her eyes open. Then she realized he’d probably cast a spell to make sure she stayed in her room. Damn it. Last thing I need in my life is two meddling men using magic to control me.

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Monday, February 4, 2013

DEVIL MAY CARE by Sam Cheever

DEVIL MAY CARE by Sam Cheever

When your name is Valentine, February’s pretty much gonna suck.

Valentine Smith H-A-T-E-S the month of February. The constant jokes about her name and comparisons to the chubby guy with arrows are enough to make her want to run and hide for the entire month.

But, this Valentine's Day, the ultimate joke is about to be played on poor Valentine. She's supposed to choke on a chocolate heart and die. You'd think that would be bad enough. But when she misses her chance to die, she finds herself running from an overly ambitious angel and a sexier-than-hell devil named Abbadon. In the race between good and evil it's no contest. Hell has sexy green eyes, lots of yummy muscles, and a truly decadent pair of lips to ease her pain!

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Holidays are Hell 2: Devil May Care
Sam Cheever
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2013 Sam Cheever
This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

"Valentine Marie Smith, you come out of there!"

"I'm not coming out until the holiday from Hell is over!"

Another round of pounding on her locked door had Valentine covering her head with a pillow. "Go away!"

"Honey, it's just a party with friends. I promise you'll have fun."

Valentine snorted into her pillowcase. "Fun is not a word I ever associate with Valentine's Day." She cringed when her roommate screamed in frustration.

"Okay. Have it your way. Stay here all alone in your pajamas and pout."

"I will. Thanks. Have fun."

"I refuse to have fun without you."

Valentine smiled. She knew better. Her beautiful, lighthearted roomie would be in her element at the Valentine's party. Surrounded by doting men and women who wanted to be her friend in the hope that some of her perfection would rub off on them, Aimee would have enough fun for both of them.

Still, as Valentine lay there on her bed and listened to the sound of Aimee leaving the apartment, she couldn't help feeling a little sad. Part of her -- a tiny part -- wished she could go to the party and have fun too. But the stupid holiday was the bane of her existence, and she'd sworn off all celebration of it.

She refused to buy or accept cards or gifts, and she'd turned down all invitations. She'd even said no to a date with a cute guy she met the previous week at her favorite club. She was determined not to contribute to the stupidity that was Valentine's Day.

Still, as the apartment throbbed with silence, the window glass crackling as an evening chill replaced an unseasonable warmth, she couldn't help feeling a little lonely.

Restless and bored, Valentine got out of bed and headed into the kitchen, looking for something to eat. Her stomach rumbled as she opened the refrigerator door and looked inside. It was filled with food, but it might as well have been empty. Aimee was a health nut and only bought stuff that was good for them.

Valentine was in the mood for comfort food. Which for her meant junk food. Fifteen minutes later, she had to settle for a bowl of sugary cereal that Aimee hadn't been able to talk her out of buying. She headed back to her room with the cereal, intending to send some emails and then settle into bed to watch a movie.

Setting her cereal bowl on the nightstand, Valentine carried her laptop to the bed and climbed under the covers. She clicked the television on and spent the next half hour visiting her favorite online spots and responding to emails from family and friends.

A chat message popped up and Valentine grinned. Artcritic1 had taken the bait.

Good evening, StolenHeart.

Hello, critic. Have you given any thought to my proposition?

I have. I'd like to discuss it over dinner tonight.

Valentine frowned. She really didn't want to go out. But she'd been trying to cultivate that particular client for months. She stared at the blinking cursor on the screen, unsure how to respond.

StolenHeart?

Sighing, Valentine made the only decision she could. Where and when?

Nourrir le Cúur, eight o'clock.

Valentine glanced at the clock. She had an hour to shower, dress, and catch a ride across town. It would be a stretch, but for the chance to steal the famed Walk Along the Seine, she'd manage it. She typed I'll be wearing a red dress and shut down her computer, heading for the shower.

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Thursday, October 11, 2012

TAKEN: TALES OF CYMLLON by Marion Webb-DeSisto

TAKEN: TALES OF CYMLLON SERIES by Marion Webb-DeSisto

A blind date with a guy dressed as an angel is what Esther Nolan's friends give as her thirtieth birthday present. Reluctant to accept, she nevertheless goes to dinner with the pseudo angel, named Zortek, and he's rude, chauvinistic and very odd. The following night he suddenly appears in Esther’s apartment and takes her captive to the magical world of Cymllon. There she learns he's a demgel, someone who is half demon, half angel. Rescued by another demgel, named Dreydon, she spends time with him in his home. Esther quickly develops feelings of attraction toward Dreydon, but tries to ignore them because he isn't human.

Rescuing Esther is a very unusual act for Dreydon. He doesn't normally concern himself with what other demgels are doing. Yet he feels drawn to her. Having her company fills the loneliness in his life. Dreydon discovers and shares with Esther a truth about herself that she finds impossible to believe. He also realizes she is his mate.

Will Zortek want revenge because Dreydon took Esther from him? And will two unalike individuals from different worlds find lasting love?
 

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~Excerpt~

Eventually, Esther could see the grassy field was coming to an end. Beyond it were densely-clumped trees, so another wood with rewarding shade was waiting for them. As they drew close, she heard the flapping of wings overhead. Looking up, she saw another demgel circling above them. He flew round and round two or three times and then dropped down a few feet away from Zortek’s left side. This newcomer spoke several unintelligible words in a measured, deep voice. Whatever he said made Zortek angry. He gripped Esther even tighter and shouted a response.

Unlike the dead one, this demgel was taller and broader than her captor. He was wearing pants that looked like raggedy shorts, and well-worn sandals. His skin color resembled a golden tan, his wings were brown and his dark eyes were blazing at Zortek. He uttered more incomprehensible words, and the tone of his voice and his body stance told her he was undoubtedly issuing a challenge. To Esther it seemed as though Zortek hesitated for a few seconds—then he released his hold on her and strode over to the newcomer. His claws became evident, as did those of his challenger. The other demgel snarled at Zortek and she could see he possessed long fangs. They then went at each other with even more ferocity than the previous fight.

Was this another opportunity for escape? Or would Zortek also kill this second combatant? Esther thought it was better to try getting away rather than stand there and watch another killing. She took a couple of steps backward, but stopped because the new demgel’s eyes were locked on her, and his right arm was outstretched in her direction. His left arm was clamped around Zortek’s body, pinning his arms into immobility. He pointed a golden claw at Esther and mouthed something. She felt a tremor pass right through her and when she attempted to continue moving away, her feet felt like they were glued to the ground. This was different from what Zortek had done to her muscles, but it was equally as powerful. She was unable to do anything other than stand and watch the two demgels fight.

Somehow Zortek managed to free himself and his claws were swiping at his opponent. He connected with tissue, and Esther could see golden blood discharging from gouges in the other demgel’s chest. Yet her captor was faring worse. He had even deeper gashes on his arms and body and it was obvious he was the weaker of the two. The new demgel now had him confined in a bear hug and appeared to be literally crushing him. Zortek opened his mouth and bit down on his challenger’s shoulder with his fangs. The other one’s face contorted with pain. He violently threw Zortek down on the grass and was instantly astride him. His knees were holding his opponent’s arms immobile and the pressure of his long legs kept Zortek’s legs still. Esther watched in dismay as his left arm shot upward. She knew what he was about to do.

“No! No! I can’t bear any more killing.”

The demgel’s arm remained up in the air as he looked across at her. She shook her head vigorously and held her breath, waiting for him to make the killing strike. It didn’t happen. Instead, his claws vanished and his hand smashed down and delivered a jaw-breaking blow to Zortek’s chin. He was immediately rendered unconscious.

The victor got up and walked over to Esther. He had to be close to seven feet in height so he literally towered over her. The golden scales across his shoulders and chest were almost standing up on end, but as she watched, they slowly lay down flat against his body. His fangs had also retracted back into his mouth. He stared down at her with a look that sent dread rushing through her mind and body, but she hoped she could hide her fear. If he was about to kill her, he wouldn’t have the satisfaction of seeing her cringe. He leaned close to Esther and sniffed her face, just as Zortek had done. Then, while straightening back up, his left hand reached out toward her and she waited for the possible death blow. However, he only touched her lightly on the arm and said, “You can move now.”

She tested his words by shuffling her feet and they were no longer stuck to the ground. Esther toyed with the idea of running away from him as fast as she could, but before she had a chance to decide what to do, his arms encircled her and he lifted up into flight. His wings beat strongly and his body was angled almost horizontally. Esther was held closely under him. All she could see was the swell of taut muscles under his golden tan skin, and a deep wound running across his chest. There was also a light odor of sandalwood coming from him. She gave thought to breaking free from his grasp, yet that would be foolish. If he let her go, she’d fall, and Esther was sure they were flying high, so that would mean certain death for her.

They flew for some distance. At least his body was shielding her from the merciless sun. Was he now taking her to that unknown thing, a mejin? Esther decided that once they were back on the ground, she would try to escape. She would have no idea about which direction to take, but at least she’d be free. Meanwhile, it was sensible to allow him to take her wherever he was going. Esther closed her eyes and tried to appreciate how she was being given a new and different experience, that of flying.

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Friday, June 29, 2012

BLACK RAYNE SCARLET MOON by Yvonne Nicolas

BLACK RAYNE - SCARLET MOON by Yvonne Nicolas


Did you ever struggle to get things right or to do the right thing?
After learning of her true nature, Sharayna “Rayne” Piers has been plunged into a world of darkness, and stripped of her humanity. Half angel and half demon vampire, she is the mythical Dragon Queen, a birthright she finds difficult to accept. She struggles with the dual side of her psyche, good and evil, and the growing urge to sate her unnatural hunger for human blood.
Lucius, the powerful spawn of Satan has risen from hell and released his demons to scour the earthly realm in search of the Dragon Queen. He’s determined to claim her as his mate and use her blood to overthrow his father, so he can take command of the seven levels of hell. And he will stop at nothing to get her.
As Rayne’s protector, Demetri Bithanos fights to prevent the master demon from claiming his Queen. As her consort, he struggles with his aching need to be loved by her. But the dark lust of her vampiric nature reaches for the creature who desires to use her blood to fulfill his evil ambitions.
Can Demetri destroy Lucius before Rayne embraces the dark forces growing within her?


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Excerpt:
Trembling, Demetri released his hold on her. “Sharayna, what are we doing?” 
Blue-green orbs melted through the lifeless puddles of black in his eyes. The dancing flames along the ceiling died down until there was no light left in the room. The glare from the full moon peeked from the opening in the curtains and veiled their bodies in red. 
Demetri took in several long shuddering breaths like it was his first time drawing in air. 
Unconsciously, she did the same. For the longest, they stared at one another, not saying a word. 
He pressed his forehead to hers, released her leg and wrapped his arms around her. “What are we doing?” he asked again on a harsh whisper. 
“I don’t know.” She curled her fingers around his biceps and slid a hand up over the bunched muscles in his shoulders. “What I said before…baby, you know I didn’t mean that, right? I, I don’t know why I said those things, or why I picked a stupid fight with you.” 
He lifted his head and gazed at her with sadness in his eyes. His full lips quivered. “The blood. It has possession over us.” 
Chills crept beneath her flesh. Lucius. His blood had fueled anger between them, preyed on her fears and doubts in an attempt to tear them apart. And he almost succeeded. 
Damn, the things she said… Her heart lurched. “Demetri…” 
All the pain he felt for what had just happen spilled from his gaze. He turned his head away and pushed up off her. 
His beefy member exited her body. Her sensitive walls clenched in need for him. 
He got to his feet and adjusted his pants. “Sweetheart, I don’t know if I can―” 
Rayne shot up from the nest of pillows and pounced on him like a cat. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and then slammed him onto the pillows, using her own body weight to bring him down. 
In a swift response, he flung her onto her back, pinned her arms out to her sides and straddled her. She erupted into a fit of giggles at the shocked look on his face. 
“What is this?” His eyes were as wide as saucers. “Why did you do that?” 
“I dunnooo,” she chortled, tears filling her eyes. 
“Are you mad, Sharayna?” His gorgeous visage twisted into a scowl. “After what just occurred, you want to rough house with me?” 
“I’m buggin’ out here.” Delirious laughter turned into panting sobs. “I’m scared outta my damn mind, D. You see this craziness? He got us trippin’ on each other and he’s not even here!” Her voice lowered to a shaky whisper. “What if we don’t snap out of it next time? What if we really hurt each other?” 
He released her arms, pushed up, and nestled his torso between her thighs. “Ohh, sweetheart…” With his head buried in the cleft of her breasts, he dug his hands into the bundle of pillows beneath her and hugged her waist, his body hot and heavy on top of hers. He huffed out a weary sigh. “This is not the end. He has not bested us.” 
She slipped trembling fingers into his hair and softly kneaded his scalp. “How do you fight what’s apart of you?” Tears bubbled from the corners of her eyes and trickled down her face. “How do you resist what’s in your blood?” 
“Remember we are not only connected by lust.” He lifted up, took her hand and placed her palm to his chest. His heartbeat and warmth radiated through her touch. “We will get through this, Sharayna.” 
“I don’t see how when he can―” 
“Do you trust me?” 
“Yeah baby, you know I do,” she whimpered. 
Working the gown up her body, he pulled her further down beneath him until his long hardened cock rested along her nether lips. She moaned out a sigh and locked her legs around him. He pulled the bunched fabric over her head, tossed it aside and buried his face in the crook of her neck. Her body hummed in response.

Saturday, April 14, 2012

THE DEVIL YOU WANT by Sam Cheever

THE DEVIL YOU WANT by Sam Cheever

Dancin' With The Devil Book Five

Astra Q Phelps gave her boyfriend a magic hickey. Usually not a world-changing issue. But in Astra's case, her boyfriend is king of the Royal Devils. And Royals have always thought that only males could mark their mates. So how did she do it? Even Astra doesn't know. That's the first of her problems.

Now somebody's trying to kill the naturally curious Astra, which is always a problem.

Thirdly, there's Slayer. He's shown up on Astra's turf and wants her to hire him. Given their undeniable sexual chemistry, that's probably not going to go over well with her boyfriend. Not to mention that he's got some baggage that's gonna come back to bite Astra big time.

Add in the nearly constant sexual need caused by her Settling and you have a whole lot of stuff for Astra Q Phelps to handle. But, as you probably know by now, she's definitely up to the challenge.

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An Excerpt From: THE DEVIL YOU WANT

Copyright © SAM CHEEVER, 2012

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

Prologue

The Devil you want may stoke your fire, and set your loins ablaze.

The Devil you want could love inspire, or lives and continents raze.



My name is Astra Q. Phelps. Don’t ask me what the Q stands for because that little piece of info will go with me to the crematorium. I’ve had all printed documentation of the name destroyed and, though a lot of my enemies have tried to dig it out, no one will ever know what it stands for. A girl has to have some secrets. Especially when the truth would cause her some serious embarrassment.

I run a business called the Angel Network, which is the only devil- and demon-locating and -destroying business in the universe. In other words, I kick serious evil butt for a living. I am a Tweener. What exactly is a Tweener you ask? A Tweener is a non-human. We have neither wings nor horns, but generally have both angel and devil in our family forests. Which is probably why we enjoy a higher sensitivity to spectral influence than regular human people.

Recently, the Celestial Army has been keeping me pretty busy saving the world. Over and over and over and…well, you get what I’m saying. The human world just has trouble staying saved.

It’s been a busy and confusing time. But it’s about to get much worse.

My twenty-fifth birthday is just a few months away.

The thing about that twenty-fifth birthday is…well…for Tweeners it’s kind of make-or-break time. It’s called our Settling and it’s the culmination of our growth period. The time when we become what we will be in life. It’s also the time when the dark side of our nature has the greatest pull.

It is on our twenty-fifth birthday that we decide which way we’re gonna go. Good or bad. Black or white. Gray usually isn’t an option. And outside influences have a lot to do with the outcome. In my case, my influence pool is decidedly murky, given the fact that I hang out a lot with devils.

Lately, my life has taken a turn toward the complex. Dialle, King of the Royal Devils on Earth and my steady boyfriend, is really mad at me because I marked him with a Daemon hickey.

I guess females aren’t supposed to be able to mark males.

How would I know that? Nobody told me that little piece of devil trivia, thank you very much. And apparently it isn’t true anyway…since I did manage to put that cute little power mark on his sexy throat.

But now he’s all embarrassed and mad and threatened in a male way, and I’m dancing the romance two-step trying to win back his love.

Bleurgh!

To make things even more complex, somebody’s trying really hard to kill me. And they’re doing a bang up job of it too. Staying alive is becoming increasingly difficult.

And my longtime friend and partner Emo is in celestial anger management, dealing with his own Settling.

Forget doing my job slaying demons.

The one place I can go for help isn’t really a good option at all, since the helpful and sexy Slayer represents mucho temptation to me and my stupid Settling.

Any minute now my slut-monkey side might just take him up on one of those offers he likes to present during a moment of weakness.

My weakness…not his.

So anyway, those are the high points of my life at the moment.

Ugly, huh?

What? Oh, you wanted the dirty details? Well, all right, it’s your brain cells that are at risk. Not mine.

Here we go…

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Monday, April 2, 2012

FLESH AND FEATHERS by April Fifter and Danielle Hylton-Outland

FLESH AND FEATHERS by April Fifer and Danielle Hylton-Outland

Flesh Series Book One

Azaleigh's life is simple until, by chance, she meets Kale. Charming and handsome, Az is immediately drawn to him. But long kept secrets lurk in the hearts of those Az holds most dear, and dangerous plans are unfolding around her.

As her life begins to crumble and Kale disappears, Gage, charismatic and striking, arrives, providing a calm port in an increasingly violent storm. But with every narrow escape from a far from human bounty hunter who's after her life, Az begins to unravel a secret with the power to change her forever. In an increasingly hostile world of Angel and Fallen, Azaleigh must navigate her own path, chose her own side, and ultimately protect her heart.

Faced with two gorgeous men, an enemy she doesn’t know, and a future she cannot understand, Az must make a choice - the man she loves, or the man she cannot live without.

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~Excerpt~

Night had fallen on the forest earlier than expected. Scarlet appeared in front of a small cottage near the edge of the woods. Without hesitation, she grasped the handle to the bungalow door and pushed the heap open. Mland backed away as Scarlet entered.

"How did you find me?" Mland asked. Her long jet black hair hung to the side of her face, covering one of her eyes. Her skin, usually more russet, pinkened with anger.

Walking over to the wall, Scarlet stood by the smoldering fireplace. The smell of charred beech wood filled the room. She picked up the poker and began to move the logs around with the steel. Mland was cornered no matter where she stood and would not be fast enough to slip by Scarlet.

"Mland, you look shaken. Do I make you nervous?" Scarlet teased. "It seems you have been a busy witch. I had finally given up on tracking you, and now look, we meet by fate. What an uncanny coincidence." Scarlet laid the poker down with the tip in the flames. She knew her presence alone terrified Mland. "You have your Coven leader to thank for our reunion."

"They are not my Coven! They are amateurs with no respect for the true art of Sorcery."

Scarlet chuckled. "I don't believe you've given them enough credit, my friend. Your leader--I apologize, your former leader--was in possession of Qeres. It seems their skills are a little more advanced than you would believe. Or should I say 'were'?" Scarlet held up a burlap bag that was stained with blood. "I promised Tobias I would bring back a souvenir for him."

"Qeres, you say? Plan to bring back the dead?" Mland's radiant skin took on a yellow tint, betraying her fear. "You need the Arch to do that. I can locate her for you."

Amused, Scarlet said, "I have already done that."

"I have never told anyone of your secret. Shouldn't that be considered loyalty?" Mland continued to bargain.

"Actually, I consider that a loose end."

"Wait! I have something of great value. Tobias would be pleased." Mland's words spilled out, running together. "Besides, what will Tobias say when he hears of my death? There is no doubt he would be enraged."

Mland pointed toward a bow that leaned against the wall as Scarlet raised a brow in question. Mland went on to tell Scarlet of how she had placed a spell on a Horseman and stolen the weapon from him. Scarlet listened to the story with enthusiasm.

Finally, Scarlet spoke. "Well, you have proven to be valuable after all."

Mland breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

Scarlet inclined her head and lifted the poker from the fireplace then drove the point into Mland's chest.

Mland gasped. The smell of burning flesh overpowered the scent of the beech wood. Her eyes widened.

"You were right. Tobias will most certainly be upset. But then again, accidents do happen." Scarlet let Mland's body fall to the ground and then kicked a log from the fireplace. The smoldering wood rolled across the cottage floor.

She picked up the bow before exiting the room.

Fire consumed the tiny home in a matter of minutes.



* * * *


Ten days later

Scarlet stood in front of a tiny wooden doorway made of cheap rotting planks. The massive block-stone buildings went on for miles on either side of the Roman street, and boundless archways connected them at the top, creating an enormous canopy that shaded the cobblestone thoroughfare.

Although poverty-stricken, with many people lying on the streets covered in blankets, this region was one of the most architecturally beautiful places on earth. Regardless, she was not here to admire Rome's beauty or observe its ambiance.

She knocked three times on the door and waited. The white hood of her cloak covered her eyes, and she kept her head bowed as she heard footsteps approaching the door.

A small slat in the door opened, and a cold pair of eyes, the color of night, peered out at her intensely for a moment, and then were gone as the notch closed with a loud thud.

The door opened slightly, making the man who stood behind the frame partially visible. "You don't look to be one of the vagrants who clutter these streets." He sounded relieved.

"I have come for the bounty hunter," she replied. She kept her head bowed, carefully maintaining her anonymity.

"Then you must be mistaken." His words were harsh, and he was clearly frustrated by her intrusion. He closed the door abruptly without giving her any time to respond.

The cloaked woman knocked more firmly this time. "I have come to call on Kano. I seek his services."

The slat in the door cracked open again as the man stared out at her.

She lifted her head and slowly removed the hood, revealing her white eyes and platinum hair, which was wound in elegant curls and braids. Her face was pale as porcelain. When she made eye contact with him, a small grin pulled at the corners of her mouth. "Hello, Kano. It's been a long time."

Opening the door wide this time, the man had nothing to hide behind. He wore black pants and a wool pullover. Kano stood taller than average with his dark brown hair was cropped close to his head, framing a stern face. "Scarlet," he said, "I cannot say it is a pleasure to find you here." His high cheekbones made him appear as though he might smile at any moment.

Scarlet grinned. "May I enter?"

Kano moved from the doorway, allowing Scarlet admittance. Once she was inside, he closed the door and turned to her. "Why are you here?"

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