THE LOVING WIFE by Viola Russell

THE LOVING WIFE by Viola Russell

Gerry, a successful doctor, thinks he has met the perfect woman in the younger Lily, but something in her demeanor and sexual proclivities is unsettling. However, Gerry is blinded by love and ignores the stirrings in his brain.

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~Excerpt~

Gerry smiled after her, placing the bottle of Digitalis capsules on the counter as he marveled about how his life had changed. A little over a year ago, his life had seemingly been in ruins. He’d been a brilliant cardiac surgeon, but atrial fibrillation had ended his career. The rapid heartbeat came upon him too suddenly and without warning. He had to abandon the career he’d loved and practiced for over twenty years, retiring to the home his grandparents had lived in before their untimely deaths in a car accident some years ago. Not that life had ever been easy for him. Shrapnel from a sniper’s bullet in Vietnam had left him with a limp that made walking difficult, and Gerry had never been an athletic kid. Grade school as well as high school had been nightmarish with the constant taunting, but Gerry’s brilliance had proven his salvation. He’d won scholarships to Harvard and then Johns Hopkins after serving with distinction in the military as a medic. He was a self-made man, and his working-class parents had been fiercely proud of their son.

Gerry had returned home to New Orleans and begun his practice after obtaining his degree. Relationships didn’t come easy to him, and he’d had actively to pursue those women who had become his bed partners. After the war, many couldn’t look past his injury, but some saw beyond his handicap and loved his brilliance, especially when he was in medical school. He also had a thriving practice and was generous with those he loved. He’d early learned that such traits could buy him company, however briefly.

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ELYSIUM by Sylah Sloan

ELYSIUM by Sylah Sloan

Meadow Caldwell is about to learn a very dark secret about herself.

When she is taken away from the only family she has ever known and thrust into the world of the paranormal, she learns not everything or everyone is what it seems.

Arcane Manor, a school for creatures of myth and lore, is all Meadow knows now. The only person she can rely on is herself in this strange, new world, especially with the secret of her true identity.

When Dr. Cadeon Frost, an enigmatic vampire, helps her unravel her past, Meadow finds herself falling for the quiet, intelligent doctor.

When she is thrust out of reality and into the arms of a mysterious man, she is trapped between the world she knows and one that nightmares are made of. It is up to her to stop not only an evil that threatens her, but everyone she cares for.

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Excerpt:

 

“I’ve never been kissed.” I wasn’t looking for sympathy, not in the least, and I was probably embarrassing myself with my admission, but I wanted him to know. I wanted him to be the first guy I kissed. I wanted to share that experience with him. He didn’t speak, and I worried I had screwed up anything which might have been created between us. He almost had a troubled look on his face, but then he let out a deep breath, his hand going back to my face and his fingers trailing along my jaw.

“You’re so special, Meadow.” He whispered the words.

 I didn’t feel special, not in the least, but I would have been lying if I didn’t admit that hearing him say those things about me had butterflies in my stomach. My eyes widened when I noticed his head coming closer. Oh my. This is it. He’s going to kiss me. I didn’t move and held my breath as he stopped an inch from my lips. It was torture, pure and simple.

“Just a small kiss.”

I nodded and braced myself, as his lips pressed against mine. The setting was perfect, the kiss magical. He smelled so good, and I was being kissed for the first time in a romantic place. The beautiful flowers blooming all around me, their intoxicating scents surrounding us, just made the experience that much more incredible.

 Soon that small kiss became more heated, and he cupped my cheeks with his hands. Whatever I had imagined it to be like to kiss, it had never compared to this. His lips on mine were demanding, yet soft, like he wanted to show me all the passion he had, but didn’t dare let loose. He pulled away and looked at me, his breathing as fast as my own. I was glad he had the same reaction to me, as I did to him.

 He cleared his throat and sat back, running his hand through his hair and looking around. “We should get back.”

In a few short hours it would be dawn and even though I didn’t know if I would fry out in the sun, I wasn’t ready to test my luck. I nodded, letting him take my hand and getting tingles all over my body when our skin touched. We slowly made our way back to the Manor, my mind a whirlwind of emotions. He seemed more aloof, more distant, and I wondered if I had done something wrong. Had I pushed him into kissing me? Made him feel sorry for me and now he regretted doing it? He was older and maybe he feared he would get in trouble. I certainly considered the kiss innocent, but now felt shame for what we had done. I didn’t want him angry at me and worried about it.

“Cadeon?”

He stopped before we reached the front doors, the wind blowing by us and ruffling his dark hair. “I’m sorry.” I tightened my coat, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

 He knitted his brows and took a step towards me. “For what?”

 “For the kiss. I didn’t tell you to make you feel sorry for me. I just, I don’t know, wanted you to know.” He didn’t say anything, his attention on the greenhouse.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m just frustrated with myself. I find it difficult to keep my control around you, but I should. I need to stay strong and levelheaded because it won’t do anyone any good if I let my emotions control me. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

I didn’t, but I nodded anyway. I kind of thought he was telling me he cared for me, which was what I deciphered back in the greenhouse. I was happy to know he couldn’t keep his control around me, but not so happy that he wanted to keep it. When he kissed me, he showed me a side of him that was wilder, more intense. It was another part of his life, a part more exciting. The kiss showed me what it could be like, what I had been missing this whole time. It sounded silly, even as I thought about it, but it was true. We stared at each other for another suspended moment and then he smiled.

“Goodnight, Meadow.” He turned, and I watched him walk away. I didn’t close my door until he was gone.

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NOT THAT TYPE OF GUY by Sara York

NOT THAT TYPE OF GUY by Sara York

When CIA assassin Aiden Johnson is trapped between a bathroom wall and a hard man, he chooses the hard man, much to his surprise. Aiden doesn’t want to admit he’s gay, but his first stumble into man love leaves him disoriented, searching for answers and desperate to find the truth. He covers his real desires by dating an ultra hot girl, but it’s the guy sitting a few tables away that draws his attention.

Super nice and attractive Doctor Trace Williams is so special he seems like an angel to Aiden. Their first kiss blows Aiden away. That Trace sees into his soul, even when Aiden is trying to hide everything, pisses him off. Aiden needs Trace in his life, but once Trace finds out the truth about Aiden’s job, will they have any part of their relationship left?

What would you do if your lover ripped apart the very foundation of what you believed?

Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This book deals with difficult subject matter, including abduction, abuse and murder. It also includes amazing sex between incredibly sexy men, masturbation and an engaging story. Enjoy!

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Excerpt:

Chapter One


Aiden Jackson took the disposable cell phone out of his pocket, plugged in his earpiece and answered the call. “Go.” Aiden spoke with his lips in a thin line, dark sunglasses covering his eyes as he searched the bustle of people waiting for their train at the Waterloo Station in London.

“They know someone’s here,” Chuck said, his voice whisper quiet.

“Shit, they on to me?” Aiden took off his shades and picked up a book. He leafed through the pages, acting the part of bored tourist on holiday.

“No, I can see you, and you’re good.”

Aiden put down the book and moved through the little shops, exploring the crap for sale, wishing he were anywhere else but here. Maybe on a beach, or playing golf even, though he hated the game.
This close to the end of a mission always made him jumpy. If he were on a beach, he would have the satisfaction of another successful operation notched on his belt.

“You’ve got someone tailing you now.” Chuck’s voice sent a shiver through Aiden.

An untrained person would turn to find their tail or they would run. Hell, even a semi-normal person would roll his shoulders, but Aiden did nothing. After flipping a few more pages in the book, he put it down and picked up another.

“Any ideas?”

“Yeah, but you’re not gonna like it,” Chuck said.

“Tell me.”

“Fuck no; just meet me in the men’s room two stores to your left. And go with whatever I do.”

Aiden dropped the book and headed out of the store. Chuck could start a fight or act like they were old friends. Twice before he’d worked with Chuck, and everything had gone according to plan. Of course Chuck wasn’t the guy’s name. Hell, none of them knew the real identities of the other operatives, too dangerous.

He passed a group of people and a few other travellers. The eyes of his watcher were on him. The hair on the back of his neck rose as he passed by a squat stocky guy of eastern descent. Pakistani?

Aiden pushed open the bathroom door, surprised when Chuck grabbed his hand and yanked him into the back stall. Chuck turned the flimsy lock on the door, closing them in the small space. Chuck’s hands were on Aiden’s chest, caressing his nipples through his shirt. Anger brewed deep in Aiden’s belly. His phone screeched and he turned it off, checking his watch for the time.

Chuck’s tongue teased Aiden’s nipple through the cloth. Aiden wanted to yank Chuck’s blond wig, pull him away and ask what the fuck he was doing, but the main bathroom door swung open, and the clip-clop of dress shoes echoed in the tiled room.

Was it the guy following them?

Chuck gazed into Aiden’s eyes, and a small smirk tilted his lips before he slanted his mouth across Aiden’s.

What the fuck?

Aiden froze. The extensive shit he’d suffered through in SEAL training, and then with the CIA, helped him keep his cool as the guy invaded his space, kissed him and touched his body like a girl would. Chuck’s tongue probed Aiden’s lips, demanding entrance. For a moment, Aiden wavered on accepting the kiss. He couldn’t do it. It went against everything he’d fought to keep hidden.

His darkest desires were playing out in this kiss. The lust he’d kept in check, the dreams that haunted him, all here, wrapped up in this one fleeting moment of joined lips that was a joke to Chuck, but a fulfillment of desires for Aiden. His breath came in halting gasps as Chuck licked at the slit of his lips. It felt so good. Aiden opened his mouth, admitting Chuck’s thick tongue.


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LEADER OF THE PACK by Francesca Hawley

LEADER OF THE PACK by Francesca Hawley

Surgeon Dr. Per Goldwolf needs a mate to make partner in a prestigious practice. Predator-Match.com—a matchmaking service for shapeshifters—not only finds him a mate, it matches him with his True Mate. Yohana’s long legs and fair flesh make him lick his lips and her scent makes him rock-hard.

New pack leader Yohana Whitewolf’s life goal is to follow in her sire’s pawprints and lead her pack. Leadership demands sacrifices. To calm her people, Yohana needs a mate. But finding an Alpha male who won’t take over is a tall order. Yohana doesn’t want the complication of a True Mate, but Per is a sexy, intelligent Alpha male and she wants to shred his clothes every time she touches him.

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

 An Excerpt From: LEADER OF THE PACK
 Copyright © FRANCESCA HAWLEY, 2012
 All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

 Per looked up from his coffee to see Yohana striding confidently across the room. Two steps behind her was the young waiter, looking dazed and horny. What the fuck? Per had been on edge ever since she left the table, envisioning her in the bathroom stall with her legs spread and himself on his knees on the floor, plowing into her. Now, here she was sashaying back to their table looking satisfied. He stood to hold out her chair. As Yohana stepped close to him, he was enveloped in the scent of her recent arousal…and orgasm. His bitch screwed someone else then walked back to the table as if nothing had happened. Fuck that! Per caught the worshipful gaze of the wet-behind-the-ears pup and growled.

 The pup blinked and stammered, gulping in terror. “I’ll bring your check,” he squeaked.

 “Like hell you will, you whelp. You just mounted my Mate. We’re going for a walk. Now.”

The boy yipped, flying off for the kitchen at a run. Per was after him in a shot, ready to kill.

 “Per!”

 He ignored Yohana’s cry of command, looking back once, rage filling his vision. “I’ll handle this.”

 The boy weaved between tables before slamming headlong into someone exiting the kitchen with a tray full of pasta dinners. Per caught the boy before he hit the floor, lifting him up by the collar of his shirt. A firm female hand grasped his wrist, while her arm encircled his waist.

 Yohana pressed against his back to whisper in his ear, “I masturbated in the bathroom. The pup was nowhere near me. Let him go…” She sighed as he turned to look into her eyes. “Please, Per.”

 He took a deep breath and nodded. The scent of his Mate wasn’t on the boy, so he released the whelp, watching as the boy ran hell for leather through the kitchen doors. Per closed his eyes, mortified at his stupidity. He had never claimed a female this publicly in his entire life, not even when he was in Sweden before his sire threw him out of their pack.

 Yohana eased away from him, turning to a different man who had appeared. It was Stefano Blackwolf, the restaurant manager and son of the owner, Roberto. “I’m sorry, Stef. This is my fault.
I’ll pay for the meals. Please allow me to buy the diners whatever else they would like to apologize for their wait.”

 Per shook his head. “No. My fault. I’ll pay for it.”

 Yohana frowned at Per. “I will pay. It’s my responsibility.”

 Per’s blue eyes blazed, then he paused. “We’ll split it. Fair?”

 Yohana patted his arm. “Yes. That’s fair.”

 Per blushed as Stefano’s lips twitched, fighting to control his amusement. Per looked into Yohana’s eyes then started to chuckle, drawing giggles from her. She blushed, looking down at her toes. He reached over, lifting her chin with a fingertip, barely brushing her lips with his.

 “Dessert, Yohana? Would you like some cannoli?”

 “That sounds wonderful.”

 “Two, Stefano?” Per inquired of the manager.

 Stef nodded, directing the busboys to clean up the mess while he went to inform the waiting diners of the delay with their meals. Per set his hand at the small of her back, escorting her to their table. He seated her and reseated himself.

 “I’m sorry for setting this mess in motion. I didn’t consider you might imagine me having sex with Marcello. He’s a baby.” Yohana took his hand, meeting his eyes.

 Per clasped her hand before lifting it to his lips to kiss. He froze, taking a deep breath. She’d washed her hand, but he knew it had been inside her…recently. Per looked into her startled gray eyes, breathing deeply so she’d know he smelled her sex. He opened his mouth, engulfing her thumb, sucking and licking it. In spite of the soap, her taste lingered faintly on her skin, bringing his body rigidly to attention.

 Yohana gasped, color rising in her cheeks as she licked her lips. He could see her pebbled nipples tight against the silk of her dress. This was no frigid bitch and he was in big, big trouble because his mind rejoiced to discover it. Per wanted to mount her now. He wanted to grab her, throw her facedown on the table, rip off her panties and sink into her to make her his while everyone in the room watched…then cheered. What scared him the most was the expression evident in her eyes. She wanted the same damn thing!


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TEXAS HARD by Sara York

TEXAS HARD by Sara York

Texas Soul Series - Welcome to Texas where men are rough, hard and twisted!

Spurned by his heart’s desire, Riley’s aching for a fight, and he finds one with Connor, a sexy Texas lawman. Attraction fires between them, but Riley walks away, ignoring the lust between he and Connor...Until weeks later he’s caught trespassing on Connor’s new property--Naked.

Connor’s tempted to arrest the audacious naked man in his watering hole until he realizes it’s Riley. Lust muddles Connor’s logic and soon he finds himself on a path rife with temptations. Passion twists Connor inside out leading him to share one of his deepest secrets. Still Riley’s hiding something and the lack of mutual trust may end their relationship.

Then there’s the Lane factor. Riley’s ex leaves Connor feeling threatened. Riley swears it’s over, but something doesn’t sit right and Connor needs resolve. Coming to terms with their attraction means submitting to the fears haunting Connor and Riley before they can grasp the love that brought them together.

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~Excerpt~

Thick, black smoke bellowed over the rise, belching behind the trees like a dragon gone bad. Riley punched the accelerator as he crested the hill, then skidded around the curve. His senses were on high alert, his foot off the gas as the car finished out the turn. Passing the stand of trees, Riley slowed as he arrived on the scene. Two cars came into view—one rolled with flames leaping to the sky, the other in good condition. Riley took it all in as he pulled close and slammed to a stop. One man was on the ground, the other standing over him. Fuck, this looked bad.

He threw the car into park and popped the trunk to grab his doctor’s bag. When he’d first glimpsed the scene he’d thought the guy on his knees was rendering aid to the person on the ground, but now he saw the situation more clearly, heard the yelling plain as day. What the hell?

Riley went into ER mode, assessing the condition of the patient as he came around the front of his car. Burn victim on the ground. Body had to be fifty percent burned if not more, maybe sixty. Face a mess. Broken nose for sure. Breathing rapid and jagged. Some blood, no arterial flow. In downtown Houston the dude might live if the paramedics rushed, out here with the burns covering his body and his face—no way.

“Tell me, you bastard. Tell me where he is.” The guy hanging over the burn victim yelled. He wasn’t touching the man on the ground, but he was close to him, his face up close to the victim, yelling as if the guy on the ground wasn’t dying.

Raw anger flew through Riley. The injured man wasn’t answering, couldn’t answer because shock held him mute. The massive trauma from the burns covering his body shorted out the man’s brain, lack of oxygen shut down everything, including the victim’s ability to think. The guy’s lungs were probably fried.

“I’m a doctor, move out of the way,” Riley commanded, expecting to be obeyed immediately.

“Fuck you,” the stranger said and kept yelling at the victim on the ground.

“Hey, he needs medical attention.” Riley dropped to the dirt opposite the other guy, the heat from the fire scorched his backside, but he had no choice of where to work. The burn victim’s eyes were glassed over; the lights were on, but nobody was home. Soon the lights would be fading, and fast. His respiration rate was off the charts. Fuck, his lungs had been deep fried, Riley would bet money on it.

“Where is he?” The stranger yelled in the burn victim’s face.

Riley had had enough. He grasped the stranger by the shirtfront and yanked. They were nose-to-nose, fury boiled over the big black man’s face, his eyes blazed, and his mouth twisted in a sneer.

“You need to move so I can work. He will die if I can’t help him,” Riley said through gritted teeth, holding the worst of his anger back by sheer will.

“I don’t give a fuck if this piece of shit dies. He knows where Erick is.” The stranger ripped out of Riley’s grip and looked down at the burned body.

The sound coming from the victim was different, quieter. Riley glanced down and his heart squeezed. Fuck, the guy wouldn’t live for the next two minutes. There wasn’t much Riley could do. He had no oxygen tank and no IV bag. Plus, where would he stick the needle? The burn victim’s face had been crushed then crisped, his lips pulled back in a grimace. No way for Riley to get enough suction to perform CPR.

Riley pulled out his stethoscope and listened for a heartbeat. There was nothing. He sat back on his heals, depression winding through him. Helpless, his shoulders slumped. The guy across from him cursed and threw Riley an angry grimace. Riley scowled right back, his anger rising with each second.

“Why the fuck were you yelling at him?” Riley had to know. Normally he would have walked away, stood down and not gotten in the guy's face, but since this happened today of all days, he reacted badly, letting his anger build. Today sucked. Normally he wouldn’t be in this part of the county. He would be hanging out at home, working with his cows or maybe taking a dip in the pond. But seeing the familiar things made his heart ache for what he could never have.

The guy across from him stood stiffly, his jaw jutted out, his hands clenched at his sides. Riley didn’t like being on his knees with an angry man above him. It reminded him of a darker time in his past when he first started exploring his sexuality. He rose quickly, bracing himself for whatever this asshole threw at him. Since college he’d packed on fifty pounds of muscle. No fucking big bear would ever throw him around. He was the bear now.

“You, I ought to take you in,” the guy growled.

The stranger stepped around the victim on the ground. Now they were face-to-face, chest-to-chest. Same height and about the same weight, Riley judged. Rage ran through his veins. He could take this dude if he swung. Riley started plotting ways to give pain with minimal injury to himself. There were nerves, ligament attachments, and other places where the body proved weak and vulnerable. A good kick to the balls would drop this guy.

“You could have helped him more,” Riley yelled.

“He had the information,” the stranger roared.

“Maybe got out of his face. He was in shock.”

“Fucking bastard.”

They yelled at each other, words rolled off Riley’s tongue, anger, rage and lust pumped through his veins. Why he was getting off from this argument baffled him. It had to be the anger and lack of sex, and the other thing--the thing that had him strung tight, ready to fly off the handle at the drop of a hat. And the fucking hat had dropped.

Any other day he would have backed off, apologized for the implied insult, and said sorry for his anger, that he lost his patients, blahblahblah—but not today. Today, right now in fact, Lane and Gresh were exchanging vows in a commitment ceremony that would bind them together in front of family and friends. Of course the state wouldn’t recognize their union as legal, but they did. He had no chance with Lane now, if he ever had.

The fight was brewing and it would be good. Blood pumped as he stood toe-to-toe with the big dude. His cock twitched with lust. What he really wanted to do was grab the guy’s shirt and kiss him until they both dropped to the ground, stripped off each other’s clothes and Riley topped him, claiming him like he should be claiming Lane.

The wail of sirens didn’t stop their argument, which had gone from specific complaints about the other to a general array of insults, curses and other wise negative statements.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” the stranger yelled in his face.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Riley yelled right back. The situation was getting bad. They were about to start bumping chests when the volunteer fire brigade rolled in. The stranger had his finger touching Riley’s shoulder, yelling something about impeding an investigation. Riley seethed and clenched his fist, ready to throw a punch when two of the volunteer firemen grabbed them both and pulled them away from the burning car. Riley ripped his arm out of the fireman’s grip and bent down to retrieve his bag. He rushed away from the fire and the water spray, getting soaked from the mist as he moved to the other side of the fire truck.

The stranger was there, and his eyes flashed with anger when he saw Riley. They were at an impasse and it would probably be best if he ignored the dude, got in his car and left. Riley let his gaze travel over the stranger, lust making him want things he had no business wanting. Then he saw it. The burned shirt—the raw patch of skin underneath. He stalked forward and grabbed the stranger’s arm. The guy tried to rip it from Riley’s grasp but Riley held firm.

“Stop, you’ve got a bad burn.”

The guy looked down as though he had no idea he’d been hurt. Riley pushed him down so he was sitting on a low chrome platform on the fire truck. The man appeared shocked. Riley held the stranger’s arm, examining the raw spot. The burn was small, only three inches in diameter, but didn’t look good.

The cloth had been charred away at the injury site but the shirtsleeve would keep irritating the raw skin. Riley pulled out the trauma shears from his bag. The stranger shied away as Riley reached for his arm.

“I’m just cutting the shirt off.”

“Don’t, it’s my favorite one.”

Riley shook his head. “The shirt has burn holes in it.” He snipped the shirt at the elbow then in a line to the guy’s wrist. He stored the scissors in his pocket and concentrated on the burn. This needed attention. Riley could help a little bit out here on the side of the road, but the guy needed to go into the ER to get cleaned up and take some antibiotics.

Now that they weren’t about to rip each other’s throats out Riley took time to study the man. It was one of the things he did while working, study his patients. He’d taken a few drawing classes in college and had a good eye. He appreciated beauty, and this big hulk of a man had beauty enough to share. Dark, like mocha latte, his lips were full, though a bit pale, but that was probably shock setting in. His nose had been broken at least once, but the bump only added to the man’s appeal. The square jaw had a slight dusting of whiskers, like he’d shaved yesterday but not today. The stranger glanced up, and their gazes connected. The slight glassiness indicated shock, but Riley also saw desire in those eyes. They stared at each other far longer than was necessary. The stranger relaxed, his lips parted before Riley broke the connection and focused on the burn.

“You need to get this taken care of. I’ll call an ambulance for you,” Riley said.

“No, no I’m fine.”

“You’re about to go into shock. You’re eyes are glassy, your lips pale.”

“Not going to do it,” the stranger argued.

“What’s your name?”

“Connor Ellison.”

“That’s good, Connor. So where are we?”

“Are you trying to be funny? I know exactly where we are.”

Riley wanted to keep the big guy talking, force him to think and use his mind. Focusing on the pain would be the worst thing for Connor. About three by two inches of skin looked badly burned. Riley was a bit surprised such a big guy was so affected by the small burn, but it could be deep too. Maybe he was in more pain than he was letting on. The man had been angry and his adrenaline elevated. Pumping a heavy dose of hormones through his veins would change the man’s reaction.

“Come on, we need to get you to a hospital.” Riley pulled Connor up, supporting him on his uninjured side.

“I can’t leave my car here.” Connor balked.

“I’ll get one of the firemen to drive it into town.”

“No.” Connor pulled out of Riley’s grasp and teetered, almost falling.

“Hey buddy, you’re about to go into shock. I can’t have you driving.”

Connor stepped close, his chest up against Riley’s, his lips next to Riley’s ear. Riley’s dick throbbed as lust washed over him.

“I have a full arsenal in the trunk. I can’t allow anyone else to drive my car.”

Riley took a step back, measuring the man and trying to figure out what type of trouble Connor was into. He was always attracted to the wrong guys. Lane, now this dude with the guns. What kind of freak drove around with an arsenal in his truck? Hell, this was Texas, but Connor might also be a psychopath.

“Don’t look at me that way. I’m a Ranger on assignment.”

Riley cocked his eyebrow and shrugged.

Connor blew out a sigh in exacerbation. “Texas Rangers, not the baseball team but law enforcement,” Connor said.

“Ah, okay. I’ll get one of the firemen drive my car to the hospital, and you get to be passenger in your car.”

Connor gritted his teeth, but his resolve wasn’t too strong. The guy was fading fast and would most likely hit the dirt the next time he had to stand on his own. Riley led Connor to the passenger side of his car and eased him into the backseat. Now that all the excitement was over Riley noticed the effects of shock progressing.

“Lie down,” Riley said.

Connor shook his head and refused to comply. “No.”

“Hey, listen.” Riley held Connor’s head so he was forced to look in his eyes. “I can’t have you going into shock, passing out and cutting off your airways. It’s either you lay down in the backseat of your car where you have all of your guns safe and secure, or I pull out your cuffs and restrain your for your own good and stuff you in an ambulance. Understand?”

Connor turned his head to the side as though he were trying to determine if Riley could physically subdue him. He must have thought so because Connor lay back on the bench seat without complaint. Riley closed the car door and grabbed the nearest fireman.

“I’m doctor Riley from over at Saint Joseph’s in Caldwell. I need to take this patient in, he’s about to go into shock. Could one of your guys drive my car to the hospital and leave the keys with the nurses' desk?”

“Sure, it will take a while, but I’ll send someone trustworthy.” The fireman took Riley’s keys and went back to pulling hose.

Riley got into Connor’s car and started the engine. “Here’s the deal. You get to talk to me the whole way there.”

“Why, you lonely?”

A pang of melancholy hit Riley. He pushed the sadness aside and focused on the medical needs of his patient. “I need to know that you haven’t passed out or worse, died.”

“It’s just a little burn.”

“It’s deep and like I said—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Shock.”

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DREAMSCAPE by Rose Anderson

DREAMSCAPE by Rose Anderson

Unable to deny his own translucence, Dr. Jason Bowen determines his lack of physical substance could only mean one thing - he's a ghost. Murdered more than a century before, Jason haunts his house and ponders the treachery that took his life.

When Lanie O'Keefe arrives with plans to renovate her newly purchased Victorian mansion, Jason discovers, ghost or not, he's still very much a man.

Despite its derelict condition and haunted reputation, Lanie couldn't be happier with her new home, but then she has no idea a spirit follows her every move throughout the day and shares her captivating warmth at night. Jason soon discovers he can travel through Lanie's dreams and finds himself reliving the days before his murder with Lanie by his side.

It took one hundred and twenty years for love to find them, but there's that insurmountable little matter of Jason being dead.

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~ADULT EXCERPT~

“I’ve a mind to taste you again.”

Thrilling to those desire-laden words, Lanie waited breathlessly. The full-body tremor had returned and with it the low unfurling in her belly. Surrendering to the wanton feelings, her trembling legs widened in offer.

Her glistening invitation displayed so provocatively in the moonlight, Jason feared his heart would burst from wanting her. Helpless to do otherwise, he fell between those silken thighs and wrapped his arms around her hips.

Needing to rein in his passions, he rested his head against her thigh in an attempt to still the firestorm raging in his balls. It had been years since he’d lain with a woman and never with one who had so thoroughly stolen his heart and soul like this lovely creature had. He so wanted this first time, hers and theirs, to be everything it could be. She needed to know how wondrous it was for a man and a woman to share this most intimate act. If Cathy had taught him anything, it was how important this intimacy was. Before his death he’d tried everything to break through that frigid, albeit deceitful, wall. He pushed thoughts of Cathy from his mind. She wouldn’t steal this precious moment like she had upstairs.

Drawing Lanie closer, he showered her inner thighs with occasional kisses interspersed with warm, flat licks. Higher now, he nibbled her lips, grazed with his teeth and sucked them, and when he felt the diamond nub hard against his tongue, he dwelled there even longer, teasing her flesh with slow persistent circles. One finger followed and found her slick and hot inside.

Shifting his body to accommodate his now overly hard and throbbing cock, Jason eased another finger into her heat and curled along the slippery ridges within. Her muscles clenched around his fingers. The incredibly hot tightness made him groan in anticipation of his cock following his fingers’ path. He shifted again, bending his knee to make room for the ache in his balls. He hoped he could last. He had to. Looking up past her belly and breast to read her face, Jason saw for himself Lanie was as mindless as he.

The sight of her lying there, head turning from side to side in her pleasure, her breasts heaving as she panted, made his cock feel like he’d explode with want of her. Pressing his groin hard into the mattress to maintain his control, he resumed pleasuring her with his tongue. Before long he felt her building release, and worked his fingers fast, each thrust and withdrawal widening and stretching in cadence with his tongue’s warm, rapid licks. He murmured hotly against her flesh between passes with his tongue, “Yes my love, you crave this as much as I.”

“Yes, Jason, oh yes,” came her breathy reply. Jason was creating more pleasure than Lanie ever thought possible. The vibration began in her legs and unfurled along her spine. Her hands released their tangle in his hair. Afraid of making a sound as the pleasure stole her senses, she gathered the pillow on either side of her head to muffle the sounds attempting to tear from her throat.

The pillow muted an animalistic groan that turned Jason’s blood to molten steel. Wanting to delay this first release, he stopped his focused attentions to travel up along her body laying kisses along the way. Pressing belly to belly with her, Jason pulled the pillow-clutching hands away. His weight pressed her into the bed and his thrumming cock and balls rested against the steaming wetness he’d left behind. Cupping her face with both hands, his eyes searched hers. Seeing she was ready, he kissed her deeply.

Lanie returned Jason’s kiss wildly. The moment was primal, her scent was all over his face, and she could taste herself on his lips. Reaching down, her fingers closed on his cock and, stroking now, she murmured his own words at his lips, “I’ve a mind to taste you…”

He could clearly see the hot determination lighting her eyes, and abandoning himself to the moment, Jason rolled over on his back to let her have her way. Her hair fanned out over his thighs as she nuzzled her cheek along his cock. When she kissed the head, his hands wound themselves in the midnight silk. Her questing tongue lapped the full length of rigid steel, and reacting to tentative licks, his seed dribbled over them both. He heard her maidenly gasp of surprise, the sound followed by soft sounds as she opened her mouth to draw him in. It was too exquisite to wait any longer. Their time had come.

Feeling Jason pull at her hips, she stopped her ministrations to follow where he led.

Jason drew her to him and kissed her again. He whispered at the corner of her lips, “Are you ready, my love?”

Lanie nodded breathlessly. She was ready for something, and she instinctively knew with Jason it would be glorious.

Jason maneuvered himself between her open thighs and found her flesh hot like a firebrand. He ran the tip of his cock up and down over her slit to wet him as he parted her for his entry. Yes, it was time. She was hot, swollen with desire, and slick, very slick. He pressed into her. His body pushed forward as her legs pulled back and she stretched to accommodate his access. He groaned against her neck as he sheathed himself fully in her wondrous fire.

Perfect. Jason held her tight and allowed her body to mold around him. He whispered softly, “You’re so tight around me, love, so warm.” It had been ages since heat like this warmed his blood fully, ages since he’d felt such exquisite perfection engulfing him. At first he didn’t want to move, but soon the grip of her desire compelled him. Pulling out nearly all the way, he eased back in with the same delicate slowness. He planned to go slow. He planned to hold himself in check. But he didn’t plan on the depth of her desire.

Lanie began to meet each thrust with a rising tempo of her own. The sensation of gliding cock meeting each delectable ridge was exquisite. Lifting her hips each time he pressed forward, she sheathed him to his root.

Before long their steady cadence increased, and Lanie’s pleasure mounted as his balls slapped against her flesh in a bold and rhythmic tempo.

Bathed in a moonlit sheen of exertion, Lanie’s back arched, and in that moment Jason could feel her mind—her focused pursuit, the blissful abandon, and the surety that this was meant to be.

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HARD AS STONE by Sara Brookes

HARD AS STONE by Sara Brookes

Brady thrives on saving patients in his busy emergency room, but when things don't go according to plan, nothing prepares him for a chance encounter. There's something familiar, and mysterious, about the downright sexy-as-hell stranger he encounters on a busy Chicago street.

In Garrett's world there are no coincidences. He's been standing as the doctor's secret guardian for years. Driven by a burning need Brady unknowingly awakened more than a decade ago, Garrett finally breaks his silence. He steps in to show Brady there's more to life than rescuing those in need.

Roused by their desperate passion for one another, their desire reaches an explosive breaking point. Brady realizes one night isn't enough, but Garrett is bound by rules he can't change. Now Brady's healing touch may save more than just a life - it may just save Garrett's soul.

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

An Excerpt From: HARD AS STONE

Copyright © SARA BROOKES, 2011

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

Chapter One



“Get me O positive STAT. She’s bleeding out.”

Brady’s hand pulsed around the small heart he cradled. He’d already tried the paddles twice, but the hole through the patient’s heart wouldn’t allow the much needed blood to remain in the lower chamber. The victim had to be stable enough in order to repair the hole.

At this point, it would take a miracle.

Unfortunately, Brady was certain he’d already used up his allotment of miracles. He’d been a doctor long enough to know how this was going to end—even as the patient had been wheeled into his emergency room.

Gunshot wounds and five-year-old little girls didn’t mix.

“Doctor?”

His gaze met the eyes of the trauma nurse who stood on the opposite side of the gurney. He recognized the despair in her expression and had seen it more times than he cared to count. She knew the same truth he did.

But tell that to the little girl who’d been brought in five minutes ago.

The very same one who had a tattered pink elephant next to her pudgy hand even as she lay with her chest cracked open.

Brady was used to this kind of disturbing image, and because of that, he’d stopped having nightmares. Most would assume he didn’t care. The reality couldn’t be further from the truth.

Lately, he’d cared far more than he was supposed to and he suspected it would be his ultimate downfall if the pattern continued.

It didn’t help matters that the girl’s eyes had been open when she’d first been brought in. Clear and bright, the crystal green color had looked alive, and full of energy despite her condition. This little girl had more courage than he could even hope to possess and he was going to do his damnedest to save her life.

The fighters always deserved a second chance.

Brady had always been stone—cold and smooth under pressure. The more intense the situation, the better he worked.

Some days were better than others.

Some, harder.

Tragedy had become a daily part of his life, and this very moment seemed to test the rock-solid exterior he was known for. Despite the fact he wanted to continue, he recognized the possibility was slim. He knew better than to torture himself—and the child—anymore than he already had.

He’d already lost her long before she’d been wheeled into the room.

With a weary sigh, he reached over to flip off the offensive beep that indicated a flatline. Even though he knew it was futile, he continued to massage the tiny organ in his palm.

The head nurse burst back through the door with her hands full of bags of red fluid. Too little, too late.

Brady knew the cadence of life as it rose and fell. He’d fought his way through the peaks and valleys, and yet there was always a constant that couldn’t be avoided—death.

Despite all Brady’s effort, that last stage of life stole this little girl. It wasn’t fair as her light had just begun to glow. The nurses across from him accepted it the moment he pulled his hand from the child’s chest.

“Call it,“ the nurse stated quietly as she dumped the bags of blood on the counter beside her.

He stripped off his gloves and frowned at the large clock on the wall. The very one that taunted him each time he had to say the few words that would devastate a family. “TOD, six thirty-two.”

The weight of the girl’s death added to the moment and he suddenly couldn’t catch his breath. The large room closed in around him and his heart raced. He threw open the swinging doors, clenched his jaw and pushed past two candy stripers gossiping in the hall.

The thin gauze over his scrubs felt heavy and thick, and he ripped it away. He chucked the blood-soaked fabric into the nearest bio-hazard bin, stepping through the doors of the waiting area. The everyday hustle and bustle of the waiting room slammed into him.

His vision started to go gray and his feet tripped over one another as he tried to move around an approaching nurse. He was dimly aware of the sound of a few people calling his name, concern heavy in all the voices, but he had to get out of there.

As he burst through the hospital entrance, the cold December air hit him in the face. The shock of it brought reality crashing around him.

He’d lost another patient.

Another in a long string of deaths he hadn’t been able to stop. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d been trained in how to deal with this and he always knew how to funnel away the emotion in order to do his job.

So why the hell am I reacting this way?

His feet pounded against the pavement as he blindly wove his way through the bustling streets. He blocked the sounds around him, hearing only the rush of his heartbeat. Driven by memory rather than sight, he ran the few blocks between the sterile hospital and the building that always felt like home.

Tall columns of intricate stonework soared high overhead, ending abruptly where the flying buttresses took over. Their carving was just as ornate and detailed as the rest of the masonry around the soaring building. The idea of the graceful lines and sweeping curves went against the scientific formalities he’d spent years learning in medical school.

Why he came here time and time again remained a mystery.

He stared at everything and nothing while his heart pounded. With each beat, a fissure formed. A crack that couldn’t be sealed and even seemed to expand as the seconds ticked by. The world around him went gray again, and he finally recognized the signs of what was happening.

Racing heart.

Shallow breaths.

Clammy palms.

He was in the throes of his first panic attack.

Things like this didn’t happen to him. He was the calm, cool and collected one. The trauma doctor who kept everyone else from falling apart. That resolve propelled him quickly to the top, earning him head of the entire emergency room in just a few short years. The stalwart professional who brushed his personal feelings aside each time he walked through the curtains separating the patients.

His hands clutched the metal streetlight in front of him and he lowered his face so his forehead pressed against the back of his hands.

Breathe in.

Out.

He kept up the slow, measured breaths in order to steady frayed nerves. Why did he feel as if he was falling apart? He was a doctor, for Christ’s sake. Surely he could talk himself through this. If he kept things clinical, sterile and didn’t think about the utter fear and desperation he’d seen in that little girl’s eyes, he’d be all right.

The girl had just barely begun her life and he’d gotten a sense—in just a few minutes with her—the she’d seen more than one child should ever experience.

The knowledge caused those small fissures in his heart to fracture, split apart and come undone.

Brady wasn’t having a panic attack—his heart had broken. He’d spent so many years training to keep distance from his patients, and it all came at him in a rush.

Every cut.

Every broken bone.

Every moment he’d called time of death rushed into his soul.

Sorrow and anger swelled to burn through that icy exterior he’d worked so hard to erect. His head pounded from the sudden release of emotion and he gave himself over to it.



Garrett studied the distraught man using the streetlight to steady himself. Even as he watched from the warm comfort of the coffeehouse, the man’s pain was tangible. Garrett’s chest tightened with the knowledge that something had unsettled Brady this much.

He loathed seeing him this way as much as he hated knowing he couldn’t help. Given the wrinkled appearance of his scrubs and the way they were dotted with drops of blood, Garrett knew it had finally happened.

The normally unflappable Dr. Brady McConnell had taken a patient’s death to heart. His habit of working too hard and refusing to take enough time off had finally caught up with him. Not to mention, he never, ever did anything for himself. As most good doctors did, he put his patient’s needs before his own.

Nothing had ever visibly shaken Brady to his core—until now.

At least he was around for this moment.

Garrett couldn’t stand the sight of Brady suffering. He knew he had the power to take away Brady’s pain. Since Brady had started medical school, Garrett had always been at the doctor’s side. However, he hadn’t made himself known before this moment because he’d always stood as a silent guardian.

He pushed through the coffeehouse doors and approached the man he’d always watched from afar.

“Beautiful architecture, isn’t it?” Brady’s head snapped up and Garrett saw the pain behind the elegant blue eyes. The harried and exhausted appearance of Brady’s face worried Garrett further.

“What?“

Garrett offered a friendly smile to lessen some of Brady’s instant skepticism. He gestured to the thirty-two story building across the street with the paper cup in his hand. “I saw you staring at the building earlier when I ducked into the coffee shop to grab a latte. Are you all right?”

“Yes.“ Brady nodded, a lock of his dark hair falling over his brow.

Garrett’s fingers tightened against the cup as they itched to reach out and brush that hair out of the way. Maybe this would be harder than he thought. He’d had years to cultivate his feelings.

To Brady, he was a complete stranger.

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HOTBLOODED by Erin Nicholas

HOTBLOODED by Erin Nicholas

Her mama always said the women in their family were hotblooded...

And it's been causing Brooke Donovan trouble her whole life. But it wasn't until her mother took on the most powerful man in Honey Creek, Texas, that Brooke truly realized the daughter of the town whore didn't stand a chance. When she left, it was supposed to be for good. But now, thanks to her late husband's deal with their hometown, she's back in the last place on earth she wants to be. Temporarily. As soon as her debts are paid off, she's outta here. Until in walks the one man who can make her rethink everything.

Dr. Jack Silver fixes things. So, when he learns his uncle is responsible for Brooke losing her husband, his sense of honor drives him across Texas to make amends. Instead of a broken woman, though, he finds a gorgeous, feisty physician's assistant trying to survive in a town that wants her gone. She also has a mile-high fence built out of pride - and a clinic that's at risk of going belly up. She may not want his money, but the clinic? He can fix that. He just never expects that in setting Brooke back on her feet, he'll be swept right off his own.

Product Warnings - Contains a hot-blooded woman, a man who really likes that about her, a town with a long memory, and a cappuccino machine that makes it all worthwhile.

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Copyright © 2012 Erin Nicholas
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication

She watched the muscles bunching under the light fabric of his dress shirt, but with some distance between them, her brain slowly kicked on again. “What’s your name?” she asked.

“Jack Silver.”

He disappeared through the swinging door to the back room and she concentrated on breathing but he returned before she got any good oxygen to her brain. Or so it seemed.

He had an ice pack—kept in the freezer for patients with just this sort of injury—wrapped in a dishtowel. He pulled the knot in his tie loose as he came toward her.

“What can I do for you, Jack?” she asked as he squatted next to her. She sucked in a quick breath as he applied the cold pack to her knee.

“I’m hoping you can tell me how to get a hold of your boss,” he said, holding the ice in place as he picked up her shoe and stretched her leg out, propping her foot on his thigh. “I need to talk to her about something.”

She opened her mouth to tell him that she didn’t have a boss, thank you very much, when a brilliant realization struck. He didn’t know who she was. He thought she was— Well, she wasn’t really sure, but it didn’t matter.

She stared at the big hand holding ice against her knee.

He didn’t know who she was. He was a complete stranger. Not from here.

And she wanted to kiss him.

It was a thought completely contrary to what she was used to allowing herself to think. It wasn’t that she never had crazy, it’s-a-really-bad-idea-but-wouldn’t-it-be-great thoughts and impulses. But she was very good at resisting them. She’d had years of practice.

At the moment, however, it was very, very tempting to give in to it and worry about the consequences later.

It had been so long since she’d been spontaneous. So long since she’d had a chance to be. And it would be a long time before she had another chance. That fact reared its ugly head almost daily as she manned the clinic that her late husband had stuck her with in the last place on earth she wanted to be.

The moments were rare when she could crank up the music, put on her comfy clothes and let go. She always did so at the risk of someone finding out and disapproving.

But this guy was a salesman, passing through, on to the next town and the next potential sale by dinnertime. No one would know if she kissed him. Sure, he might talk about it to his buddies at the gym tomorrow or the next day, but no one in Honey Creek would know.

It gave her a little adrenaline rush just thinking about it.

She could French kiss the big, good-looking stranger right here in the clinic, right at the front desk. Just imagining the shocked look on the faces of people in town made her want to do it. She knew the rebellious streak she’d inherited from her mother was some of her trouble here in Honey Creek, but just like telling a dieter they had to avoid cheesecake at all costs, the more forbidden it was, the more tempting she found it.

Just to test the waters, Brooke put her hands behind her on the seat of the chair and leaned back slightly, keeping her elbows straight.

“My boss won’t be back for a while,” she said. And it was true. The level-headed, do-the-right-thing Brooke she’d turned into over the past few years seemed to have stepped out for the time being.

He glanced up, and she was gratified to see that his eyes didn’t immediately make it past her breasts, which were thrust forward against the soft cotton of her tank top. And, in the spirit of really letting go, she wasn’t wearing a bra.

She watched him swallow hard and noticed that the hand on her knee seemed to have forgotten its job as the ice pack slipped to one side.

This was exactly the kind of thing she usually worked so hard to avoid. She’d inherited her mama’s looks, body and love of men. She could only assume that her self-control came from her father. She’d never met any of the three men that could have supplied the other half of her DNA, but Brooke sure as hell hadn’t gotten any modesty or sense of appropriateness from Dixie. Still, it did do a woman’s ego some good to have a man—especially one like Jack Silver, who no doubt had women clamoring and strutting for his attention all the time—give her some good old fashioned lookin’-good-honey attention.

“My knee is feeling a lot better. You have the touch,” she said, her voice a little throaty without even trying. Flirting and teasing were natural for her—another Donovan trait. It was resisting it that had always been the challenge.

His eyes found her face and he gave her a half grin. “So I’ve been told.”

Oh, I just bet you have, she thought, as a little tingle in her stomach responded to that cocky grin. “Are you married?” she asked. If he’d been around as many blocks as she was guessing, he’d know where that question came from.

He definitely didn’t react as if the question was odd. “Nope.” His hand remembered her knee then, but he let the ice pack slip to the floor and let his palm begin warming the skin as he kneaded the joint gently.

She didn’t ask about a girlfriend. She wasn’t planning on keeping him, after all, or even compromising him too much. It was just a little kissing. But she most definitely drew the line at married men, no matter how they made her knee feel.

Her skin was quickly regaining its ability to sense heat.

She pulled her foot from where it rested on his thigh, sitting forward on the chair seat.

He seemed reluctant to stop touching her and his hand slid down and around to the back of her calf where it began a slow, seductive stroking up and down.

“Gay?” she asked. Not that she cared. She was going to kiss him anyway. He just might not enjoy it as much as she would.

He laughed and stroked his fingers into the dip behind her bent knee, pressing gently and making heat zing through her.

“No.”

She leaned forward until her elbows rested on her knees and her face was less than an inch from his. “You do this kind of thing a lot?” she whispered.

His eyes dropped to her lips and she felt anticipation and awareness shimmy through her. He knew exactly what kind of thing she was talking about.

His breath was hot on her mouth as he whispered back, “Does it really matter?”

Then he kissed her.

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