IT WAS ALWAYS YOU by Tianna Xander

IT WAS ALWAYS YOU by Tianna Xander

Candy only asked for a night. Will she get more than she expected?

After dreaming of him for months, Candy can’t believe the 1Night Stand dating service has found a man fitting the description of her ideal lover. After all, her dream man is no other than A-list actor, Jared Harwell, and since she’ll never have him, she’ll settle for a close match.

Shapeshifter Jared Harwell is ready to call it quits—his acting career and Hollywood lifestyle—if he can find the mate he’s searching for. But, evidently, his perfect mate is only to be found in his nocturnal dreams and the closest he’ll ever get to her is with the help of Madame Eve’s 1Night Stand service. And even then, it’s only one night with a fantasy lookalike.

Will that be enough time for Candy and Jared to realize dreams truly can come true?

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Entering the bedroom, he frowned. It’s too quiet. Had she left?

“Candy?” he whispered. If she expected him, the movie star, she would recognize his voice. He had to remember to speak with a Midwestern accent at a low level and not have his brogue give him away. Not yet, anyway. He said her name softly again.

No answer.

“Candy, are you there?” he asked a bit louder. Had his accent bled through? It didn’t matter. His instructions had probably scared her, and she’d left. Shit!

“Huh, wha…?” The sleep-filled voice came from the bed. “Who’s there?”

“It’s just me, darlin’. Your date for the evening.”

“Why are you whispering?” The sheets rustled. She’d turned off the lights as he’d instructed in his letter. With the curtains drawn, the glow from the city below couldn’t penetrate the darkness. That hadn’t been part of his conditions. Had she’d closed them to even the playing field so he couldn’t see her either?

Standing in the doorway, he breathed in her perfume. The scent of peaches wafted up from the bed and gave him a hard-on from hell. The sweet scent filled his lungs. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, the lingering scent bringing up sweet memories of his Candy. Still, it didn’t matter. The only thing he gave a damn about—they get along with each other and have the fantasy they wanted.

“Have you changed your mind?” He hoped not, and pictured the lingerie he’d packed in the case for her. Had she put it on, or was she wearing something of her own?

“No, I haven’t changed my mind. I’m wearing the flimsy nightgown you sent for me, aren’t I?” she asked, dryly.
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REDEMPTION: Angel Rising Book One by LaVerne Thompson

REDEMPTION: Angel Rising Book One by LaVerne Thompson

To walk the earth she must feed her hollow soul.


Some of the most beautiful people in the world are not human. They have no soul, feel no emotion and are pure evil. You can tell by the color of their dark, dead eyes. Samuel Glaus knows this. He is after all the son of a human mother and soulless father. He is, half human and a hunter of the soulless. He is also in love with one who cannot love him back.

Thalya is a soulless creature, but unlike others of her kind, she does not kill to feed her hollow soul. She hungers only for emotion and above all she hungers for Samuel’s love. Her enemy. Her redemption. And she’s willing to kill for it.

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Excerpt:

Thalya stood alone on her balcony, hands braced on the wide stone railing overlooking Central Park. The wind picked up, blowing her chest length curls away from her face and cutting through the material of her thigh high sleeveless silk dress. Bitter cold accompanied the end of January or so she understood. She would love this time of year, if she could, even the cold. Too bad, she couldn’t feel any of it. No matter the external temperature, her body heat never changed.

Winter boasted her most fulfilling time of the modern year. The onset of depression. The time mortals realize they’ve spent way too much of the money they did not have over the holidays and now owed more than they could afford. Then, maybe they have gained twenty pounds during those holidays on top of the twenty already making them overweight. Or how about the woman, who at thirty, not only didn’t get an engagement ring for Christmas, but also by New Year’s, she no longer has a boyfriend?

To walk the earth she must feed her hollow soul. Yes, this time of year kept the void inside her full of emotion. The kind she craved. Mortals were so ripe for plucking. Hunger had her licking her full cranberry-colored lips in anticipation…the void within would soon be filled.

Opening up her senses, she sniffed out the most depressed in the city block around her. While she had no human sense of smell, the scents of emotions to her were as potent, as humans would say a bouquet of freshly cut roses. She could have gone out and canvassed a wider area but her favorite show, Being Human, would start in a half hour. She never liked recording the program if she could help it, so she tried not to miss an episode.

Thalya preferred to live in the moment, because she’d had enough of the past. Besides, she didn’t have to go far, plenty of depression existed right around her. Why, right across the street a man entered the park. The scent of his depression floated right to her on the wind. Hot, potent and yummy, she would feed on it for a few days. There were no others of her kind in the area, so she wouldn’t have to warn anyone off. Although, quite a few soulless resided in New York, the size of the area ensured she didn’t run into others if she didn’t want to, which she usually didn’t.

Going back inside her penthouse condo, she walked across thick sand-colored carpet. Her artist friend, Franklin, would have both loved and hated the great room. Loved it for the cool colors—reds, beiges, and golds. Those had been his favorites, but then she’d stuck a long, extra-wide black leather sofa smack in the center of it. He hated leather and black.

Franklin, long gone…just another from her past.

She changed her mind about recording her show and headed for her entertainment control pad sitting on the low side table. The pad came with the flat TV. Picking up the control, she programmed it. Just in case. A long, dark chocolate colored leather coat lay over the arm of the sofa. She grabbed the coat, put it on and headed for her private elevator. She didn’t need it but she wanted to blend in. No jumping from her balcony or moving too fast for any mortal eyes to see. Tonight she would act normal. Normal, at least for a human. As an additional benefit, when she walked through her lobby to get to the street, she would open her senses to her immediate surroundings, sampling a taste of surface emotions as she passed by. A nice appetizer before her main course.

Not all of her kind could suck out emotion without touch but as an olden, one from a time long past and more powerful than most, she could. But other things also set her apart from those like her. She did not need to kill her providers or have them kill others to satisfy her needs. Draining humans of their depression, her emotion of choice, more than satisfied her. Why, she didn’t even have to cause it. Humans carried it in abundance. She merely put her providers to sleep and afterwards, they usually woke up feeling less depressed. Hers represented a more symbiotic relationship. She actually helped people, much like a psychiatrist would. Only, instead of talking them out of their depression, she drained it right out of them.

The elevator door opened and she got on.

The hotel where she lived also housed private residences, but a few guests milled around the lobby for the evening. Just enough people around with some serious issues to make her grin and tremble within her ankle-length leather coat.

“Delicious,” she purred, savoring her version of oysters on a half shell. Red knee high stiletto boots clicked as she crossed the polished marble floor. She ignored the appreciative looks of the men and women as she glided among them, intentionally projecting a do not approach compulsion. Look but don’t touch, unless she was the one doing the touching.

The doorman opened the door for her and smiled. “Good evening. Cold one tonight.” Bundled in layers and with a wool cap on his head, he stood directly beneath a heating vent to stay warm.

He always spoke. She rarely did and tonight, she didn’t. She flashed him some teeth in the semblance of a smile. At least she hoped it looked like a smile and not a grimace. Happiness. It rolled off him in waves. She’d never tried draining that emotion from her providers, although over the centuries she’d met a few of her kind who preferred it. Anything to fill the void in the soulless place. But stealing someone else’s happiness always seemed unnecessary to her. Depression worked just fine.

Out on the sidewalk, the scent hit her again. Like a shining point of light in dark woods, the depressed man she’d sensed beckoned her to follow him. After crossing the street, Thalya entered the park. It didn’t take long to find him.

He sat on a bench at the other end of the park, leaning over with his head in his hands.

She wouldn’t be able to read his thoughts until she actually touched him. No matter, she sensed his depression.

He’d picked a bench away from the lighted path, but they didn’t have complete privacy. A few people walked through the park at the other end and they weren’t far from the street. Still, she could not resist. No more than the moth could fight being drawn to a roaring flame. They were secluded enough for her purpose. Besides, anyone could look in their direction any time, but no one would see anything alarming. Just a beautiful woman sitting with a man. Even if they did notice, it wouldn’t prevent her from doing what she must. Her survival demanded it.

She sat on the bench next to him; he didn’t even bother to look up. Thalya placed her hand on his shoulder and her inner feminine muscles contracted to the point, she almost had an orgasm.

Depression, and so potent.

“Mmm, good,” she murmured.

At her touch, he raised red-rimmed eyes in her direction.

Finally, she had his attention.

He pulled back slightly, some form of self-preservation kicking in. “Who—are you?”

“Shhh. It will be all right. I promise,” she whispered.

The man sat up and she wrapped her arms around him.

Unable to help himself, he let her.

Hmm, handsome. She always seemed to gravitate toward the young, good-looking ones, although she’d never sleep with any of them. Well, hardly ever. She nuzzled the side of his neck. Under the alcohol he’d indulged in, he exuded a nice clear human scent. Given his emotional state, she’d expected the scent of alcohol to be stronger. Surprisingly she only caught a slight whiff. No more than a beer. Maybe he just started on his drinking for the evening. Didn’t matter. Whatever he’d ingested, she didn’t care about.

“What—?”

She didn’t give him a chance to say more. Instead, she made her way to his mouth, which opened as soon as she pressed her lips against his. Unleashing her powers, she inhaled his depression into the starving emptiness that should have housed her soul, and at the same time, began to read his memories.

Poor thing. Karl, yes…Karl Hammer. He’d recently lost his job and his wife, pregnant with their first child, didn’t know about it. He’d swallowed his pride and asked his blood uncle of sorts for help. Except Karl hadn’t spoken to his uncle in years. Mmm, interesting. She probed for the reason why.Samuel and the others like him lived a dangerous life. Samuel, a master hunter of the soulless and Karl, merely—bait.

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SOUL FIRE by Shannan Albright

SOUL FIRE by Shannan Albright 

The Guardians of Drakkan Book 1

A dragon on borrowed time.

Crispin, king of a shape-shifting race known as Drakkan’s children has little hope left for his dying race. Without females for his males to mate with, their extinction is assured. When the mating fever grips him, he knows his time can be counted in days before he goes mad and must be destroyed.

A woman who holds the key to a race’s survival.

During the Beltane Ceremony, Aslynn Durry is one of the chosen by the god Drakkan and the Tuatha de Danann to save the shape-shifting race. Within a secluded glen Aslynn and Crispin, unite for what they think is one night of celebration, only to find both of their destinies’ are woven together.

An old enemy rises from the pits of hell to have his revenge.

The Fomorians have bided their time to strike. The alliance between the Tuatha de Danann and the great dragon god Drakkan has given them the chance they need to satisfy their thirst for revenge.

Crispin and Aslynn find themselves pawns in an ancient war. Can they survive long enough to defeat the Fomorians? Or will the hope for Drakkan’s dying children be destroyed?

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~Excerpt~

Forcing her gaze from those penetrating eyes, she became aware of his overpowering presence. The air around him crackled with power, an expectant hum filled the silence in the air. Dimly she realized he was more than human, something…other. Enticing and terrible, a heady mixture coalescing into an acute awareness. An arrow of lust pierced her belly, traveling down to her core, a liquid fire making her ach to the point of pain.

She couldn’t help but be drawn to him. His massive body hummed with male aggression and dominance, a perfect counterpoint to her femininity. Long, thick hair caught on a small breeze, lifting away from a face of sharp angles and shadows. Moonlight touched upon him like a lover’s hand, casting him in silver, a god come to earth to claim her.

A fanciful thought to be sure, yet by his intense regard of her, mayhap she had the truth of it.

He strode toward her with an unnatural grace, her pulse raced with every step toward her. He reminded her of a predator, more animal than man. Her heart slammed hard against her ribs, her breathing labored as she watched him approach, forced to tilt her head up as he stopped before her. The glen suddenly seemed too small to contain such a powerful being. He slowly held out one hand to her, her eyes riveted to the long fingers. High born, not one of calloused palms from laboring in fields, but smooth, soft.

Her hand reached for his of its own accord, watching as his swallowed her much smaller one. Warmth spread from her fingers up her arm as he pulled her up to her feet with a gentle tug. His nostrils flared as she stood mere breath betwixt them.

A rumble rose deep within his chest and she trembled. Not from fear, nay it ’twas desire which throbbed in exquisite anticipation, her body pitched upon a precipice from which there would be no return. The hunger from moments ago flowed hotter; his male scent of windswept seas and cedar mixed with an undertone of musk caressed her.

A moan escaped her as she took him into her lungs, her body softening, her core turning into molten liquid. Her ears roared as blood surged through and scalded her veins. Her body prepared for his, even as her normally logical mind struggled to reason through such a reaction with little luck.

The only clarity she could summon held sway of her emotions, for in the very marrow of her bones she knew this male was hers. If only for Beltane. The gods saw fit to give her a gift. Drakkan spoke of being the hope of his children. She would grasp this with both hands, hold it tight for this one moment, and have the memories to warm her on lonely nights. For once, she would take something for herself and face the consequences on the morrow.

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DO YOU TAKE THIS CAT by Missy Martine

DO YOU TAKE THIS CAT by Missy Martine

The Wind River Pack 4

Rennia helped to rescue Ray and his sister Kati when a New York crime boss held them hostage. She was devastated when he rejected her after seeing her shift from cat to wolf. She returned to her mountain home certain she’d lost her mate forever.

Ray's family is forcing him to attend his sister's wedding in Wyoming. He’s convinced she’s making a mistake in setting up house with two men who aren’t even human. The whole idea of people shifting into animals gives him nightmares.

In one last effort to claim her mate, Rennia takes Kati’s advice and lets Ray think she’s human when they meet. For a while she’s in paradise. They’re beginning to fall in love when an old enemy strikes out at the Wind River Pack.

Will Rennia lose her mate for good when he finds out she’s not just a pretty girl?

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~Excerpt~

He slipped his hand beneath her blouse and encountered her lacy bra.

For a moment, he traced the openwork design with a finger. “I can almost imagine what your body looks like just from tracing all this lace. But I’d much rather see it firsthand.” With a rough curse, he stripped her out of the shirt and bra before he lifted her. With his mouth hard on hers, he carried her to the small bedroom and laid her on the bed. She drew him down on top of her so that her bare breasts merged with his hard chest. She drank in the smell of his body with pleasure. The feel of his firm skin so intimately kindled a raging arousal in her.

Ray moved his hand down her throat and began stroking the side of her breast. “Take off the rest of it, please.”

Rennia’s fingers trembled as she pushed her jeans down her legs and kicked them across the room. Ray licked his lips as his gaze dropped to her taut breasts. He palmed one of the soft mounds and began to pull gently at her nipple. His work-roughened fingers created a rasping sensation against the firm bud, making it stand up taut and straight. She let out her breath with a moan when Ray cupped her breasts, using his thumbs to rub back and forth across her nipples.

He flexed his fingers against her skin. “You’re so soft…so damned soft.” Fondling her breast, controlling her mouth, he pressed her firmly into the mattress. Her heart slammed against the walls of her chest. Ray worked his way back down her neck and across her collarbone before moving to the aching tips of her swollen breasts. His mouth opened, and he drew the hard tip into it with a faint, soft suction that brought a sharp cry from her dry lips. He sucked it with hard, firm pulls that had her moving her legs to admit him to an intimacy that made her head swim.

Moisture pooled between her legs, and she could feel it begin to slick her thighs. Rennia wasn’t a virgin, but she’d only had one lover in college, and he’d never made her feel anything close to what she was feeling now. She held her breath as rough fingers stroked the hot flesh between her thighs. Her head went back, her eyes closed, as she shivered, biting her lip to keep from weeping, the pleasure was so overwhelming.

“Ray,” she called out, as her nails bit into his broad shoulders.

He pulled her even closer, straining against the thick nylon barrier that was all that separated them. Her pussy clenched when he hooked his fingers beneath the elastic waist and tore them from her body. “I don’t want anything separating us, Rennia. I need to be closer.” His long fingers flexed into the soft skin of her buttocks, stroking and lightly pinching. She felt a husky groan slip from her mouth, as he grew more insistent. Ray moved his fingers gently around the outside lips of her labia, not touching her clit at all. She gasped and thrust herself against his fingers, beginning to ride his hand.

“Your pussy feels like heaven. You’re sopping wet.” He thrust his fingers inside her faster as he ground his palm against her clit. She could still feel one of his hands warm and forceful against her buttocks. Taking a deep breath, she threaded her fingers in his hair and directed his mouth to her neglected breast. Her breath came whooshing out when he used his teeth, abrading the soft flesh. A few feverish minutes later he moved between her long legs and his mouth pushed hard against her lips as his hips eased down against hers. His leg became insistent between her thighs, coaxing them to move apart, to admit the slow, exquisite imprint of his body as he settled his shoulders between her legs. She groaned harshly when he licked her from her anus to her clit. “You taste so damn good.”

Ray hummed as he rimmed the opening of her vagina with his tongue and without warning he thrust it up inside her passage.

Rennia’s breath caught in her throat as she felt his tongue lap gently between her lips, barely catching her clit. Then, he suckled on the small bud and bit gently. She cried out as she ground her aching slit against his hot tongue.

Pushing up, he moved quickly to tangle his tongue with hers, thrusting gently as he had done into her eager slit. She could taste herself in his kiss. “I want you so badly, Rennia. Please, baby, don’t say no. This one’s gonna be fast, but I promise I’ll make it up to you. I just can’t wait to feel myself buried in your beautiful body.”

When Rennia managed to nod, Ray grabbed one of the condoms he’d laid on her table, moved between her wet thighs and placed the sheathed crown of his erection against her tight pussy. His finger moved to stroke back and forth over her nipple. Smiling, he arched over her prone body, resting his formidable weight in his forearms. With one hard thrust, his big cock was buried fully inside her pussy so deep Rennia felt skewered, so big her pussy felt stretched to its limits.

With a groan, Ray began to move within her. Slowly at first, but gradually quicker as desire and need overtook them, he plunged in and out of her silky sheath. Rennia moaned with each of his fierce thrusts, wrapping her legs around him, urging him on, and meeting his every thrust. Needing more, she pushed her lower body against the hard cradle of his pelvis. Rennia arched her back and screamed.

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SORORITY WOLF by Rebecca Royce

SORORITY WOLF by Rebecca Royce

ROAR Series

Kieran is a demon with a big problem. The person whose body he has stolen won’t give up and fights him on every front. Not to mention he has to figure out how to blackmail the president of a werewolf sorority to appease his demon father. He has no time for lost werewolf Alexandra. But he can’t stop thinking about her.

Alexandra is a werewolf who needs a pack. She comes to college determined to get one. But when her plans fall apart, she turns to Kieran for help—unaware of his true nature or exactly what he wants from her.

The two will play a dangerous game…and with so much at stake, can they see the love right in front of their eyes?

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Excerpt:The wind blew hard against him, and his body acted as a natural resistance to the onslaught of a Massachusetts winter. Three months into the school year, November had hit the northeastern part of the United States with a vengeance. Any sane person would be inside where it was warm. But she had come outside, and he’d followed—as though a length of invisible rope connected him to her.

He loved to watch her.

The way she moved. The way she sometimes didn’t move.

He rubbed the stubble on his chin. How long had it been since he’d shaved? A day? A week? A month? The longer he spent with the humans, the more his body adapted to their form, which was exactly what he’d planned and why he’d risked everything to come to Northern Tide University. The more time he spent in this dimension, the less he had to try to resemble them.

Not understanding total assimilation was exactly what he craved, his father had warned him this would happen as if blending would deter him from his plan.

Only he hadn’t counted on her.

Alexandra Morgan.

She stood staring up at a white sorority house at the very top of the Greek hill the university was so proud of. Queen House—the one to rule them all—where dreams of young girls were crushed on a regular basis. All the female students desired to be Lambda Chi Sigma. The smartest, prettiest, strongest-willed women the university produced came from the sorority housed there. But first, they had to be accepted into the hallowed halls.

Unbeknownst to the human population of the school, LCS took only one type of student—female werewolves. No matter how many human girls threw their best smiles, hopes, dreams, and money at LCS, they would never be offered the opportunity to pledge. Unless they shifted under the full moon, they were no one.

If he wasn’t mistaken, Alexandra met that particular requirement.

So, why was she so nervous?

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VIRGIN'S BLOOD by Tianna Xander

VIRGIN'S BLOOD by Tianna Xander

Chosen Series Book One

When TASHA HINKEY was younger her Grandmother told her she should believe at least one impossible thing per day. Lately it's been five, before breakfast!

After shooting the man who killed her best friend, Tasha is on the run. She'd expected that. She also expected to be alone. But she certainly never included being followed by a sizzling hot vampire into her plans. MICAH DARTRAZINSKI insists they are destined to spend eternity together.

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~Excerpt~

His arms tightened around me. Big strong arms too, I might add. My clit twitched with delight. I gritted my teeth and tried to ignore it. I do have a brain in my head and I’m not about to let my nether parts tell me whom to sleep with.

Against my will, my left hand left the confines of my right armpit, where I’d stuck it for protection. It slid sensuously up over his chest and shoulder, before it slowly wrapped itself around his neck.

To my complete surprise and mortification, I buried my hand in his hair and brought my head closer to his.

“Why can’t I stop myself?” I asked, just before I pressed my lips against his.

“You find me irresistible,” he growled against my mouth. His voice was compelling. The low timber crawled through my body like a living thing. It made me want to do all sorts of interesting things with this man. His tongue dueled with mine, both of us wanted to win a war of dominance.

When our lips met, I felt much as I did with Brock, but with Micah, I felt . . . more. I wanted to kiss him, to fondle him. To know I gave satisfaction as much as I was receiving it.

With Brock, it had been different. I had wanted nothing more than to feel his huge cock as it pounded inside me.

“Stop thinking of other men,” Micah said, against my mouth as he playfully nipped at my lips.

I looked around and noticed, for the first time, that I was lying on my bed. Either I hadn’t paid attention while he searched the upstairs for my room, or he had a great sense of direction. I’m pretty sure it was the former.

I pulled away and fought for my next breath. I needed space. I needed to get away from him to think. I couldn’t concentrate when he was so close, when I could feel the heat from his body as it seeped into mine. It sent little licks of flame through my blood.

It wasn’t normal that he could read my mind. Sure, I’ve heard of telepathy but I’ve never met anyone with it. The whole idea was absurd. If I believe that, the next thing he’ll tell me is that we can communicate without talking. It was all I could do, not to snort.

He ran his hand through my hair and pushed my bangs back from my face to look into my eyes.

“You must rid yourself of your virginity. It is a weakness – a weapon that can be held against you.”

“Now I’ve heard it all,” I laughed derisively and pushed at his chest. “All of my life, my father, my grandmother and the church have told me to abstain. Then suddenly you come along and tell me that I have to have sex to save my life? Puhleeze!”

This is too much!

I slid out from under him and tried to avoid his roaming hands. Then I stood up, walked to the window and looked out through the darkness. I wrapped my arms around my churning middle and wondered how many more impossible things I was expected to face in one day.

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DESERT OF THE DAMNED by Kathy Kulig

DESERT OF THE DAMNED by Kathy Kulig 

Demons in Exile Book One

A #1 AMAZON BESTSELLER Erotic free list!

One woman caught in a war between worlds and torn between the love of two men-immortal demon and mortal shapeshifter.

Dante Akanto lures research scientist Amy Weston into the desert to explore the dark side of her passions, pleasuring her in erotic ways she never thought possible with his bizarre sex games. And park ranger Jake Montag has a compelling mysticism and powerful sensuality that's HOT and impossible to resist. But the two men, demon and shapeshifter, are engaged in a supernatural fight between worlds. Amy and her high level of life force energy is the key. Dante's world and his immortality depend on claiming her as his own. The choice Amy makes between the two men will affect both her world and her future.

Demons in Exile Series:
Desert of the Damned, Book 1
Damned and Desired, Book 2
Damned and Defiant, Book 3
All for only 99 cents each!

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Excerpt:

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: DESERT OF THE DAMNED

Copyright © KATHY KULIG, 2008

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

The smell of smoke drew Amy Weston out of a deep sleep. As her mind fought through her grogginess, she stared at the orange shadows flickering across her stucco walls. The waving colors nearly hypnotized her back to sleep then logic shook her fully awake.

Fire.

She bolted upright in bed.

From the window on the opposite wall she could see that the fire was outside. A chorus of toads and crickets sang their night song as the desert breeze stirred her sheer curtains. She rubbed sleep from her eyes and inhaled deeply.

Not dreaming.

Hopping out of bed, she rushed to the window and peered out. The glow of a campfire shone behind the saguaro cactus and the mesquite bushes about fifty yards from her house.

The silhouette of a man stood beside the fire. Dante Akando was summoning her.

The digital clock read twelve a.m. The hour. She groaned as if complaining but between her legs the throb of her pussy gave away her desire. Thanks to all the subtle teasing at work and impromptu meetings in Dante´s office, where he´d described raw details of his sex games, her body hummed in anticipation.

He was good-very good-impossible to resist. And he was just what she needed right now-a man who had a taste for adventurous sex and was eager to explore the dark side of her passions. Like her, Dante didn´t want any emotional ties. She had been intrigued by his looks the day she was forced to transfer to the new division of Drake Diagnostic Labs and, since she didn´t plan to stay long, having a brief affair with her boss didn´t seem like a problem. The sexual chemistry had been immediate and bone deep. How could she say no? Someday she would find someone special and consider a more permanent arrangement but for the moment, she didn´t need the hassles.

As much as her body ached for Dante, she should resist him. She had to get up for work early and she was exhausted. Did she dare ignore his campfire call and curl back in her comfortable bed? Her hand reached beneath her silk chemise and slid over her breasts. Her nipples were raw and erect, sensitive to the touch. She squeezed them and imagined Dante´s hands on her then glided her hand down her flat belly, over the curly hair and patted her bud. In moments it was swollen and throbbing, aching for more. Oh, she wanted him all right. Damn him. I´ll never get back to sleep now.

What was the use? The dancing lights on her bedroom walls grew brighter, signaling his impatience.

Tugging the thin chemise over her head, she tossed it on the floor, then yanked the Indian blanket from her bed. Why did he affect her this way? She walked back to the window but there was no sign of him-only the silhouettes of the saguaro cactus with its outstretched arms. Stepping into moccasins, she grabbed a flashlight, then strode out of her house.

The night air was cool and she pulled the red, black and orange blanket tightly around her. Dante had bought it for her at the flea market, not the trading post, so it probably was a Mexican blanket and not Indian but it was beautiful just the same and a thoughtful gift. Still, it was a puzzling gift considering Dante Akando said he was part Navajo. She would´ve thought he would only buy native crafts. As she followed the path off her property onto open land, the light of her flashlight and the campfire lit her way. The sky was dark, millions of brilliant stars glittered like shards of crystal. Stepping around scrub pines and clumps of prickly pear cactus, she approached a large mesquite bush. On the other side of the spiny tree the campfire blazed.

Another Indian blanket lay beside the fire. Dante was nowhere around. But she knew he had to be close, watching her.

"Dante? I´m here." She pulled her blanket up to her chin. A breeze swirled around her and under, teasing her moist pussy. She felt a growing heat and moisture between her legs. Where was he? Every nerve simmered with anticipation. "Dante, come on. I´m here. We have to work tomorrow. I can´t stay long."

She wasn´t afraid of the desert night. He said the fire would keep her safe from the night creatures. Recalling his game of seduction, she dropped her covering and stretched out naked on the blanket, her body raw, exposed, vulnerable.

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MOONLIT MAGIC by Anne Kane

SEDUCTION: One Fortune at a Time Box Set 

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Temptation Returns by Lisa Carlisle – Antonio returns from the Marine Corps and runs into the woman he never forgot at a rock club. Lina can't believe Antonio is back in town, right before her wedding. Can she resist temptation in the form of a dark-haired Italian Marine?

Love Charm for Fiona by Carly Carson – When Fiona receives a fortuneteller's love charm, she casts the spell to bring her dead fiancé back to life. But a love charm has its own magic, and what she gets is a surprise in the form of a SEAL on "shore leave."

Fear Of Flying by Leigh Court – Book publicist Jessie Jordan is deathly afraid of flying, which prompts travel writer Regan Quade to come up with a highly imaginative (and intimate!) way to calm her anxiety. Thrown together on a two-week book tour, the result just might be a bestseller!

Hearts on Fire by Roz Lee – They’ve been burned before, but desire will rekindle the flames of love in this sensual and heart wrenching story of redemption and second chances.

Heart's Destiny by Jennifer Lynne – Eve Perroniʼs quest to find her past leaves no time for love, until a chance prediction leads to the seductive Ky Ransom and a destiny that could make—or break—both their hearts.

Moonlit Seduction by Anne Kane – Winston is a mutt with a mission - to convince Natalie that her fortune lies in surrendering to the seductive Jacob McKinley.

Hidden Fortune by Laura Sheehan – Ava has always played it safe, but after a midnight run-in with a handsome stranger, she discovers that perhaps fortune favors the bold. Can she find the courage to seek the ultimate treasure?

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MOONLIT MAGIC by Anne Kane

Natalie had spent one amazing weekend with Jacob McKinley two years ago. When she awoke the next morning, he was gone. What were the chances that he’d turn up next door to her new home? Or that the mutt she’d rescued would conspire with his bouncy little spaniel to throw the two of them together?
The fortune teller at the local fair tells Natalie that she and Jacob are star-crossed lovers, and warns Jacob that Natalie needs a knight in shining armor. There is something bad coming her way. Can Jacob convince Natalie that he cares, and convince her to give him another chance, to trust him to keep her safe?

EXCERPT
“Ah.” Britney cocked her head, finally making the connection. “I think Grandma mentioned you in some of her letters. I take it you’re the nutcase with the adorable puppy? The one who needs a haircut and a decent pair of jeans?” Not that she saw anything wrong with the ones he was currently wearing. They showed off his slim hips and nicely shaped ass quite effectively. 

The voice in her head snorted in derision.

Jacob rolled his eyes, a wry smile curving the edge of his lips. “That would be me. Your Grandmother was quite the independent spirit. I don’t think she ever approved of me.”

Britney forced a laugh. Did he really not remember her? “Oh you’re in good company. There weren’t very many people she approved of, but in her own way she was loveable. She liked to project the image of a grumpy old lady but she was really very sweet.”

He didn’t look convinced. “I’ll have to take your word for that.” His gaze lingered on her just a smidge longer than was polite. “You look familiar. Have we met before?” 

Oh shit. Now what? Lying was never a good idea, lead to all sorts of things. In her case it usually led to getting caught. 

“I doubt it. I haven’t been around much since I left school. Grandma and I mostly kept in contact by email and phone.” The lie slid out so smoothly she could almost believe it herself. 

He shrugged, although a slight frown marred the perfection of his forehead. “It must be something else. Well, we’ve met now. Welcome to the neighborhood.” He looked down at Winston. “And who do we have here? Maybe Trixie had a reason for running away this time. He looks like quite the gentleman.”

Britney groaned. The guy needed to do something annoying. Anything. She did not like the way her heart melted with every sentence out of his lips. Mind reading better not be one of Jacob’s talents, or she might as well leave town now. 

“This is Winston. He and I are somewhat new to each other, but I have to agree he’s definitely a gentleman.” There. That was almost a conversational tone of voice. 

“Jacob held his hand out, palm up, and Winston sniffed it graciously before ruining the whole gentleman thing by slurping the fingers enthusiastically. 

The look of shock on Jacob’s face was just too much. 

Britney burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it. Finally! A less than perfect reaction. At the sound, Trixie jumped up and down, wagging her tail and yapping excitedly, and Winston let out a dignified woof, just to add to the confusion. 

“I think he likes me.” Jacob wiped his hand off on his jeans, his mouth twisted in a wry grin. “Or maybe he just wanted a quick taste in case you plan on siccing him on me later.”

Britney smothered another peal of laugher, while Winston gave her a pained look. Apparently he saw nothing funny in his gesture of friendship. She patted him on the head. “It’s okay buddy. We can work on your manners this summer.”

He looked up at her with a serious expression and thumped his tail on the ground a few times. Apparently he was fine with that.

“Hate to introduce myself and run, but Trixie and I need to get back now. Welcome to the Cape. I’ll try to keep my little brat off your property from now on. When you get settled, maybe we can get together for a cup of coffee?”

Was he asking for a date? No. A cup of coffee between neighbors was just that. And she didn’t want to date right now anyway. Did she? No! Still, a cup of coffee couldn’t hurt anything. Even a cup of coffee with a gorgeous hunk of man that she’d slept with years ago. “Sure. Sounds lovely.”

He smiled then, and it went all the way from his eyes to the tips of his scuffed up running shoes. Britney’s heart did a little flip. 

Coffee might not be such a safe idea after all!

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TURKISH DELIGHT by Rosemary Laurey

TURKISH DELIGHT by Rosemary Laurey

Special Investigations Agency

For Special Investigations Agency Operatives Destiny Tremayne, Jenna MacDonald and Nur Aydan, Christmas isn’t all about celebrating.

Nur Aydan, a moroii—a living vampire—accepts a commission in the UK, investigating investment of terrorist funds. The supposedly routine job has Nur involved in a local protest over rights-of-way, rescuing demonstrators from attackers, using her moroii abilities to thwart terrorists…And falling in love.

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~Excerpt~

She'd sworn she'd never do this again. So much for oaths and promises. Not only had she come to meet Paul, but she was seriously considering accepting another assignment. Or was she? Nur Aydan looked down at the narrow street below. A party of tourists, like a pack of sheep, with digital cameras instead of bells around their necks, paused as their guide indicated the building opposite: a former Ottoman merchant's house. The tourists hung on every word of the patter, soaking up a mass of historical inaccuracies about life in the harem, while a few meters overhead, stood a true relic of the past - a moroii- a living vampire, blood-linked to the gypsies who roamed the reaches of the empire in the days of the sultans. A moroii employed, to her mother's constant worry, as an secret agent by The Special Investigations Agency.

Heaven help her! She was thinking like Aunt Zenip, who endlessly lamented lost glories of the Empire and times long gone. Meanwhile...Nur turned back to Paul Morel, seated on the divan in the corner. "I'm not ready for another job, Paul. Give me some time."

"This isn't a real job, Nur. All it will take is a weekend. You'll be back by Monday. It's what out English friends would call a 'doodle'."

"I think you mean a 'doddle'."

"Ah! You agree."

"How can I agree, when I have no idea what you're talking about?"

"How about an all-expenses paid holiday?"

The man was a comedian as well as a spy master. "I've earned it after that last job. How about a week or two in Antakya?"

"A weekend in England."

"At this time of year? Forget it. I'll take Iskenderun if Antakya is all booked up, but..."

"Nur! Will you listen?"

She should have expected that. Walking back to the cheap divan against the wall, she sat down. This place got shabbier each time they met, but neither of them came for the decor. She folded her arms on her chest, leaned back against the pillows, and eyeballed Paul Morel. "I'm listening."

"Brussels got a communique from our Washington Bureau. About investment of suspected terrorist funds." Ha! Paul knew that would get her attention. Nur acknowledged with a nod and he went on. "They want someone to check on things.."

"There's no one in the UK?" There was a catch. She knew it.

"No one with your strength. It's you or a bulldozer."

"You know how to pay compliments! A bulldozer!"

"Nur, I saw you stop a forklift."

A tactical mistake on her part. "Alright, so I can stop moving machinery with my bare hands. What have these terrorists been buying up? Old factories?"

"A prehistoric stone circle."

Damn good thing she was sitting down. Anyone but Paul, she'd have thought was joking, but Paul didn't have a humorous bone in his body. "You can't just buy them! They're historical monuments, national treasures." Would be like buying up the Dolmabaçe Palace or the Topkapi. "Aren't they owned by the government?"

"Most of them."

"But one just happened to be up for sale, and was bought by a suspect group?"

He nodded. "Should I send out for tea?"

"Coffee, Paul and very sweet." She didn't miss the glint of satisfaction in his eyes, as he turned to the telephone. He'd hooked her and they both knew it.

"In the name of the Special Investigations Agency, thank you," Paul said as he put down the phone.

"Just a weekend job, eh? Good! I have a dinner engagement on Monday."

He gave a flicker of a smile. "Hollrigg is a megalithic stone circle on the edge of the North Yorkshire Moors. Until a year ago it belonged to a local family. One of only two privately owned megaliths in the UK. Recently the aging owner-she was well over eighty I believe-put it up for sale, hoping a local preservation group would raise the money. A business consortium bought it, preempting the proposed arrangement, and paying about five times the asking price."

"A lot of money for a bunch of old stones."

"Very old stones."

"So they need a tax write-off. They are amateur archeologists wanting to preserve the site for posterity. They need a novel site for employee training. Doesn't mean they are terrorists."

"The company who bought it, Rudicorp, is based in Yemen, and has definite ties to terrorist funding. They do, admittedly, have some legitimate business operations, and maybe, just maybe they bought it in the interests of preserving western culture," Paul paused, "but unlikely. and in the present climate, we investigate everything."

"What am I supposed to do? Pick up the stones up one by one and check for bombs underneath?"

"If you deem it necessary."

"Very funny, Paul. What am I really supposed to do?"

"Find out what the hell is going on. Lurk around the site, and use your superior hearing and sight to ascertain whatever you can."

"Why me? You've got other agents with special abilities."

"They are all occupied. We've been particularly busy the past year or so."

"So, you're scraping the bottom of the barrel and calling on me."

"Don't talk rot! You're one of our best. I know you need a break after the last job, but this is more investigation than action. You're going to look around, that's all." She bet!

At a knock on the door, Paul crossed the room. The teenager from the cafe downstairs entered, placed two small cups were on the table in front of Nur, and left with a generous tip. Paul handed her a cup. She caught the rich, heady aroma, sniffing appreciatively before tasting. Wonderful! Sweet, hot and thick, she might as well enjoy, she'd not get coffee like this in England.

Paul placed an envelope on the table. "Tickets, driving license, car rental reservation, credit cards, a little traveling money, and the passport you'll use."

He'd been that sure she'd agree, had he? Nur scowled and took another sip before setting her cup down and reaching for the envelope. "Yildiz Geçtan? School teacher? Give me a break, Paul!"

"It's a good cover. People expect teachers to poke around, ask questions and look at everything."

"And why am I wandering around the UK in December when I have a students to teach back here in Turkey?"

"You have a three month sabbatical, to travel in the UK and improve your English." She had to smile at that. Her English was better than Paul's. "You teach at the Dursan Academy in Istanbul. They will back up your story if needed."

How Paul did these things, she didn't want to know. She flicked open the ticket. Okay, teachers went tourist class, but... "Tomorrow morning!"

"An early flight. Stay tonight at the airport Radisson, in your traveling name. Your flight leaves at seven."

"What about minor details, like a tooth brush?"

He nodded towards the end of the divan. "There's a toothbrush in the bag, Nur, and your essentials. You'll have the usual supplies waiting for you at the hotel. If you need anything else, use the credit card in the envelope, and be sure to save all the receipts for accounting."

"I leave in the morning? Drat! I had an appointment for a manicure tomorrow morning."

"Reschedule for when you get back."

Paul really did have no sense of humor.

It started off, like the nice easy break Paul promised: a room service dinner at the Airport Radisson while Nur looked over Paul's notes before burning them in the bathroom wash basin and flushing the ashes. Not that they told her much. Paul seemed to think leaving her to find out for herself was the way to go. Which probably meant there was nothing going on and she was off on a routine mission-not that she'd ever had one of those, and half-doubted she'd recognize one if she tripped over it in broad daylight. But she gave up worrying, enjoyed the grilled shrimp and fish she'd ordered, and indulged her favorite desert: rosewater ice cream. She should go out and hunt, but lacked the energy. Tomorrow she'd find some willing Brit and feast.

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ON THE TRAIL by Zenobia Renquist

ON THE TRAIL by Zenobia Renquist 

Guardian's Tales 3

He's a dog with a bone and she knows just where to bury it.

Tracy has a stalker who is dredging up a past best left forgotten so he can torment her with it. She hires Kaiser, a dog-shifter, to track the culprit and mete out justice.

While a guard dog seems like a good idea, Tracy finds out Kaiser also makes an excellent lap dog. She knows she cannot keep him, but that is no reason not to enjoy him until he leaves.

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~Excerpt~

Tracy turned her face up to the showerhead, enjoying the simulated rain in the privacy of her own bathroom. She didn't care if some of the water seeped into the edges of her tight bun. She planned to see her beautician about a touch-up for her relaxed, mid-back length, black hair over the weekend. Two days of wearing a scarf as a headband would hide the kinky roots resulting from her indulgence.

The soothing hot water trailing over her mattered most, removing all the tension from her workday. Meetings on top of meetings on top of even more meetings. Whoever said it was good to be the king -- or the boss in this case -- never had to put up with as much paperwork as her.

The cooling water signaled the end. She debated turning the knob toward hotter to prolong her stay but it was already at the farthest point. She'd run out the hot water heater, which meant she had to get out.

She spun the knob to the off position and then pushed back the shower curtain. The rack where her towel should be was empty. Likewise the stack of folded, clean towels that should be sitting on the low shelf next to the tub in case of situations like this was also empty.

"Kaiser!"

The large German shepherd poked his head into the bathroom door with her towel hanging from his mouth and a doggy grin on his face.

Tracy held out her hand. "Give it."

He backed up a step.

"Now, Kaiser."

He tossed his head, waving the towel at her.

"I'm not playing. I'm tired. Just bring it here. I don't want to drip water on the floor."

Kaiser left the doorway.

"Damn it, Kaiser!" Tracy brushed off as much of the water as she could before stepping onto the bath rug. She preferred drying off while standing in the tub. Kaiser knew that. "Come back here."

The cool air pumping from the vents raised goose bumps along her arms when she entered her bedroom. So much for her relaxing shower. Now she was shivering and pissed.

"Kaiser." She looked around but the dog was nowhere to be seen. "Give me back my towel before I have you fixed." She walked around the bed, expecting to find his wagging tail sticking out from under the bed skirt, giving away his location. If he got dust bunnies on her clean towel...

He wasn't there.

Tracy sucked her teeth as she looked around again. He had to be here somewhere. He wouldn't leave the bedroom. That was taking the game too far and he knew that. The only other place he could be was the walk-in closet.

"Kaiser, come out." Tracy pushed the door open and reached for the light switch bedside the frame. She flipped it up but the light stayed dark. "Oh, come on." She flipped it up and down a few times before giving up. The light bulb was blown or Kaiser had sabotaged it.

She was done playing hide-and-seek. She was almost dry and getting dressed would speed along the process. "Stupid dog. I should take you right back."

A strong arm grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into the rack of hanging shirts. She squeaked but didn't fight as a hot, naked chest pressed against her back.

Kaiser asked in a low rumble close to her ear, "Now, why would you want to take me back?"

"You're a pain in my ass." And he was ruining her plans for the evening, though she kept that last part to herself.

"Not yet, I'm not." He rubbed his free hand over her ass. "But I can be if you want."

"Let go." Tracy tried to pull away but Kaiser's hold was firm, like always. She was no match for his strength.

"You sure that's what you want?" Kaiser hugged her closer, sandwiching his erection between them.

Tracy swallowed as her libido overrode her fatigue. "Why did you take my towels?"

"I wanted you wet." He slid his hand between her legs and tickled the tips of his fingers against her damp pussy lips. "And you are."

"That's from my shower."

"I don't think it is." His breath fanned over her ear a second before he licked it. "I smell your desire. Why do you always deny it?"

"Why are you always horny?" Tracy's voice hitched when Kaiser nudged her clit.

"I'm a dog. What's your excuse?"

"I --" Her clipped moan of pleasure at Kaiser delving a single finger into her channel cut off her words. Tracy shifted, stirring herself around it.

It wasn't fair how quickly Kaiser could make her forget everything except the pleasure he could give her. She needed to tell him no and to back off. Instead she inched her feet apart while rolling her ass over his dick and dropping her head to his shoulder.

"Mmmmm, nice and wet now. Good girl. Good, good girl."

"Stop it," she snapped, hating when he used doggy speak. She hated more how her nipples tightened and her inner muscles clenched when he did it.

He nipped at her earlobe as he pumped his finger faster. "Somebody is grumpy. What's the matter, girl? Want a treat? Hm? Does my good girl want a treat?"

"Shut up."

"Now, now. Be a good girl. You want your treat, don't you?" He paused long enough to add a second finger and then buried them inside her with a speed that had her juices squishing. "You're drooling already. Soaking my hand and squirming. If you aren't good, I'll make you beg for it."

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THE TOUCH OF HER HANDS by Missy Martine

THE TOUCH OF HER HANDS by Missy Martine

The Wind River Pack 3 

Aurelia Salazar has a special gift the government wants to know more about. She can heal with just the touch of her hands. For five years they kept her hidden away while they studied her. And then two brave Marines helped her escape and smuggled her out of the country.

When some of the children of the Wind River Pack become ill, Zack remembers the young girl and her unique abilities. He goes to South America to find her and bring her back so she can help. He doesn’t expect to find she’s his mate.

Now, they’re racing against the clock to get her back to the States before it’s too late for the children. But Zack isn’t the only one searching for her. What happens when the scientist that held her prisoner for all those years finds them?

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~Excerpt~

Zack squatted down next to the girl. “What do you want me to do?”

“Unfasten his belt and pull his pants down.”

Zack wrinkled his nose and moved to do as she asked. He noticed she turned her face away and blushed as he pulled the trousers down past the man’s boxer shorts, leaving them bunched around his calves. “Okay, I’m pretty sure the damn thing’s broken, Medina. It looks bad. I need to call a medical transport, man.”

Aurelia turned back around and glanced at the injured leg. “That won’t be necessary.” She moved closer to Medina’s body and pulled off her gloves. Taking a deep breath, she rubbed her hands together as if to warm them, and then placed them on his thigh.

As Zack watched, a slight orange glow formed around her hands, highlighting each finger. With her eyes closed, she breathed in and out steadily. It was like she disappeared into her own little world. Medina groaned and then visibly relaxed. His head sank back onto the ground as he sighed.

After a couple of minutes, Aurelia gasped and pulled her hands away. If anything, she was even paler than before. “How is it?” she asked.

Medina moved his leg up and down and laughed. “It’s all better, girl. Damn, I’ve seen you do that before, but it never fails to amaze me. You fixed it.”

“What’s going on?” Zack asked. Medina sighed and awkwardly got to his feet. He pulled up his pants, fastened them, and then reached to help Aurelia stand. Zack frowned when she swayed slightly. “Is she all right?”

Medina nodded. “The healings always take something out of her, some more than others. This was minor compared to some of the things I’ve seen her do.”

“It’s time for you to tell me the truth. What are you doing out here? I know you came from the building because you left the door open.”

“I had to. I needed a way back in where nobody could see me.”

Zack crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m waiting. What’s going on?”

“He’s helping me escape.”

Zack frowned and looked at the girl. “Escape from what?”

“The government,” whispered Aurelia.

“I couldn’t leave her in there any longer, man. They’ve been holding her here, against her will.”

“Why?” asked Zack.

“Because of my gift.”

“Your gift? I don’t understand.”

“She can heal people with the touch of her hands,” said Medina. “It’s not a scam. You saw it for yourself. They found out what she can do and they wanna know more. Hell, they’re keeping her drugged most of the time. They’ve been running all kinds of medical tests when she’s unconscious. I’m afraid of what they’ll try to do next. They can’t figure where her power comes from.”

Zack knew all about having abilities one had to keep secret. “How did they find you?”

Aurelia’s eyes filled with tears. “I’d been able to heal my brother’s small cuts and bruises since I was about five. When my father accidentally backed over his dog, I healed him right there in the driveway. Up until then, I’d kept it to myself, but my father was a witness this time.” She wiped at her eyes. “At first, he was afraid of me, but then he began to wonder how he could benefit from my gift. He wasn’t discreet, and before he could make any real plans, the government made him an offer. Basically, you could say he sold me. They gave him money and a small piece of land and then took me away to live in their labs.”

“How long ago?” asked Zack.

“Five years. I was nine years old when I last saw my family.”

Medina grabbed Zack’s arm. “Please, you’ve got to let her go. They’re planning to transfer her soon, and I might not be able to go with her. She deserves a chance at life.”

“Where were you taking her tonight?”

“My cousin is waiting about a mile from here, through the woods. He’s gonna get her out of the country and take her someplace they’ll never find her. I was gonna go back inside and make it look like she’d escaped.”

“Was Raulston in on this?” asked Zack.

“No, but I knew I could get by him. He’s been drinking on duty lately.”

Zack turned away and walked a few feet. When he turned back, his gaze settled on Aurelia. His coyote wanted closer, wanted to protect the little girl. Nobody should have to live their life as some kind of specimen. “For this to work, It’s gonna have to look like both of us were taken unaware. I wouldn’t be able to explain how she got past me while I was on patrol. You’ll have to knock me out and then go back inside and do whatever you can to make it look like you were overpowered.”

Medina smiled. “Then you’ll help us?”

Zack sighed and nodded. Aurelia moved quickly and threw her arms around his waist. “Thank you, oh, God, thank you. Bless you, sir. I’ll never forget you.”

Zack cleared his throat and pushed her away. “Go on and get her to your brother. I don’t wanna know where you’re going. I’ll be waiting by the back door. When you get back, we can set the scene.”

Medina holstered his gun. “Thanks, Wind River. I’ll owe you, man.”

“Call me Zack, please.” He motioned toward the woods. “Go on and get moving. You’re wasting time.” He stood and watched as the two of them hurried toward the northern border of town. Just before they disappeared into the trees, the girl turned back and gave a small wave. For some reason, his stomach clenched. For a moment, he fought the impulse to chase after her, and then turned to make his way back to the building he was supposed to be guarding. It was definitely going to be a long, cold night.



ADULT EXCERPT



Zack moved to the foot of the bed and prowled up Aurelia’s body. He cupped her head and gazed down into her eyes. Then, unable to help himself, he kissed her, devouring her mouth. She lay back as he covered her body with his. Dropping close to her ear, he nibbled on her lobe. “You excite me, mate,” he whispered against her damp skin. Reaching up, he cupped her cheek and brushed his thumb tenderly back and forth across her skin.

Biting back a groan, his hands ran up her torso to the outsides of her breasts. Bending, he covered the tip of her breast with his mouth, teasing the sensitive bud of tight flesh. He took the engorged nipple into his mouth and sucked gently, reveling in the fact it was his touch that aroused her so much he could scent her desire.

Needing more, his hands roamed down her stomach and over the swells of her hips and buttocks, and then dropped to search between her legs. Pleasure shot into his balls as she gasped, her entire body shivering in response, her fingernails digging into his scalp. Moving restlessly beneath him, she caressed his arm, his shoulders, his back, every part of him she could reach. Groaning, she dragged her nails down his back as he left a wet trail on her skin with his lips and tongue. He worked his way down her body as she squirmed in pleasure. Then, she froze when his fingers brushed the inside of her thighs.

Looking down, he gazed at her open pussy, moist and gleaming. Bending, he brushed his knuckles against her silky skin and then flicked his tongue along her inner thigh. She moved restlessly as he licked her leg slowly from her ankle to the inside of her knee, and then trembled when his mouth inched a little farther up her thigh.

Zack could smell the moisture pooling between her legs as he studied the curly patch of damp hair covering the entrance to her sex. He rubbed circles on her belly before his fingers explored her moist heat. Her nails bit into his shoulders as she clung to him, her head thrown back, her lips parted.

Coating his fingers in her slick excitement, Zack found her clit and rubbed it before he pushed a finger inside her core, followed quickly by a second one. Gently he pumped them in and out of her pussy as her inner walls clamped down around his fingers. She moaned when he took her clit between his thumb and forefinger and rubbed the slick flesh slowly in tiny circles. He plucked and teased the sensitive flesh, and then slipped his thick index finger inside of her, moving it slowly in and out before he traced her cleft again.

Leaning close, he thrust his tongue inside her to explore her intimately and felt her pussy flood with cream. “You taste even better than you smell.” Zack could hear Aurelia muttering but couldn’t understand what she said. A harsh sound escaped her lips as she closed her eyes and opened her legs a little more. Accepting her invitation, he extended his tongue and lapped slowly, feasting on her juices, savoring her musky scent and salty taste. “Come over my tongue, mate. Give me what I need,” he whispered.

Zack swirled his tongue through her folds and right up into her channel as she cried out. His fingers moved into her hot sheath at the same time he clamped down on her clit. Aurelia’s body stiffened and shuddered under his hands as she exploded. Arching upward, she let out a cry as she came, her inner walls clutching at his fingers. A fresh surge of cream erupted from her pussy, coating his hand.

Zack moved up her body quickly and thrust his tongue between her lips. Eager and demanding, he moved it deep into her mouth. He panted as he pulled back to look into her eyes. “I need my cock in you, now.” When Aurelia nodded, he grasped his sex and pushed the tip slowly inside of her, watching as her flesh parted for him. Guiding the head, he pushed it just inside while she arched toward him eagerly, aiding his descent.

His shaft slid into her with ease, her channel wet and welcoming as he stretched her walls. She caught his hips, urging him to move faster, delve deeper. Zack released a harsh breath and drove deeply, grinding his hips against her, and slid all the way in with a powerful thrust. Aurelia locked her ankles behind his back and lifted her arms, looping them around his shoulders and spearing her fingers through his hair. She clutched his shaft with her inner muscles.

Catching her buttocks in his hands, Zack arched upward even as he bore down on her. He angled his strokes higher up on her body so his shaft rubbed her clit and then flexed his hips to sink a little deeper inside. Aurelia dug her fingernails into the tops of his shoulders and squeezed his shaft with her strong inner muscles. He cupped her bottom in his hands and lifted her hips as he pumped between her thighs.

“Faster, Zack, faster.”

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WHEN LUST RULES by Virginia Cavanaugh

WHEN LUST RULES by Virginia Cavanaugh

Lusty dreams of a tall muscular man with long dark hair have filled Julie’s mind for the last few months, leaving her wanting alone in her bed. It would be one thing if he was only a figment of her imagination, but he was flesh and blood, and had even asked for her phone number. But had he called? Hell no.

So when he shows up out of the blue at her job, she really wants to push him away. But there’s something primal and erotic about this man that calls to her.

Luken is reluctant to get involved with a human female, but for some reason he can’t get her out of his head. He has enough on his plate with running his new pack, but the little blonde seductress presents a temptation he can’t resist.

But when Julie’s past catches up to her, Luken is prepared to offer his protection, along with his bite, making her one of his own.

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An Excerpt From: WHEN LUST RULES

Copyright © VIRGINIA CAVANAUGH, 2013

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

Chapter One

“Hey, waitress!”

Julie Drake ground her teeth as she tried to block the annoying man calling her. The crowd seemed extra rowdy tonight at Harry’s Bar, and Replacement Waitress Number Three didn’t seem to provide much help. Why in the hell did Tyra have to quit?

A deep breath entered her lungs as she loaded her tray with the drinks from the bar. Little skeleton straws poked out from some of them. Only another hour of this mess until last call. A pang of guilt speared her chest. She knew better than to hold a grudge against Tyra for quitting. People moved on. Some to greater things and others… Well, she just had to look for the silver lining.

“Hey, Jules? You all right?”

Julie looked at the burly bartender, Mark Hinley, who stood in front of a large Happy Halloween sign. Concern flashed in his green eyes as he wiped his meaty fists on a white towel. “Yeah. I’m good. Just hoping the next hour passes quick.”

He gave a curt nod and she picked up her tray, turning from the bar and heading through the pool of bodies. Mark could be a real sweetheart and had even asked her out once. Julie wished she could have said yes, but truth be told there wasn’t any spark when she looked at him. Maybe it would’ve been different if she hadn’t been haunted by fantasy-filled dreams of a man with long dark hair and olive skin. Luken.

All she had was a first a name—no way to even look him up in the telephone book. As if she would. She didn’t want to come across as a desperate woman who couldn’t wait for him to call. But damn, it had been four months since he’d come into the bar and asked for her number. She’d been sure he’d call her. Now with Tyra gone, she didn’t have a way to ask what happened. Hell, she was even curious about what happened between Tyra and the hottie who had been sitting with Luken. But no one had heard from her since she’d quit.

That had been a strange night. The bar had been hopping and Tyra had come in with a glum look on her face, but as the night had progressed she’d started to smile. And not just the I-need-to-make-tips-so-smiles-make-more-than-frowns kind of smile. It had been genuine. But then a really good-looking blond guy had come up to her and it had looked as if her whole world came crumbling down. She’d raced from the bar with him and had never come back.

Julie gasped, seeing the disaster coming, but unable to avoid it. Glass crashed and shattered as various glasses filled with alcohol sloshed and spilled. First one tray hit the floor and then a second. Laughter and applause filled the room at a deafening roar as Julie tried to count to ten, booze dripping from her face and soaking into her clothes. Replacement Number Three apologized profusely as she pulled sopping wet napkins from her own pocket, offering to help clean up the mess. Neither of them had managed to avoid being splattered.

Julie wasn’t mad at her directly. The girl couldn’t help that she was a klutz, but the rude patrons who seemed to get a kick out of her soaked state had pushed her limits of control.

Without a word she shoved past the people who had gathered around to witness her humiliation, and she bolted toward the back door. She just needed a minute—a breath of fresh air. A year’s time had done nothing in making this new lifestyle any easier. Country music blared in the background as she forced yet another person aside who sought a chuckle at her expense. Drunks could be such assholes. Her hands met the door and she plowed through it, seeking refuge.

Cool air danced over her wet skin and she shivered as her arms came up to hug her middle. The metal door swung shut behind her with a thud. Her gaze panned the back lot, not looking for anything particular as she tried to rein in her emotions. The trees swayed lightly in the breeze, dumping more of their golden and red leaves onto the ground.

“The money and ease of my old life isn’t worth it,” she whispered into the night as she squeezed her eyes shut, willing back the tears that made them burn. She knew this would be a better life deep down, but some nights were harder than others in believing that fact. Being the wife of a drug lord had many perks, but it was the other end of the spectrum that turned her stomach.

Her ex-husband Ivan Volkov sat in prison where he belonged. There would be no more deaths in the living room at three in the morning. No more beatings. No more bodies jerking and gasping as they died from too many drugs. And for that peace she could suffer through waiting on drunks. She just wanted to move on.

“Looks like you’re having a bad night.”

Julie whipped her head to the side at the sound of the deep rumbling voice, searching for his frame in the darkened area near the trash Dumpster. She knew that voice. Had she imagined it? Booted feet thumped the pavement a second before he stepped into view. Luken.

His long hair swayed against his broad shoulders. A few dark strands gripped the material of his jacket, freezing in place as the rest of the silken length continued its gentle movement. Kissable lips quirked up in a half smile, pulling the skin of his face just slightly tighter over his high cheek bones. The yellow glow of the security light masked the golden-olive skin she knew covered his body. Native American blood ran thick through his veins. All around, he was such a contrast in looks when compared to Ivan. Whereas Ivan was light and fair, Luken was dark and sensual. Luken stood tall and lean, his muscles toned, but not overly large. He had a very athletic build, and even though she couldn’t see through the V-neck T-shirt he wore, she figured his abs would look like a washboard. Her heart rate quickened as she stared across the space separating them. Desire began to bloom inside her, mixed with excitement. Then irritation took its place. He hadn’t bothered to call her and now he wanted to show up when she looked like a mop? “As if it matters.”

A full smile spread across his mouth as he continued to approach. “Of course it matters.”

She huffed a breath of air and turned, reaching for the handle of the back door. “I’ve got to get back inside.” It was just too much. A suck-ass cherry on her suck-ass night of a sundae. God, why did he have to show up now?

A warm hand clasped her arm before she could grip the door handle. She looked down. Strong fingers encircled her wrist. Warmth radiated into her skin from the contact and her heart rate increased. She turned and looked him in the eye.

“Don’t go yet.”

She sighed, wishing she could ignore the tingling awareness his touch brought. It radiated up her arm and settled in her chest. She recognized the fusion of hope and anticipation. Such a dangerous mix. “I’m working.”

“I meant to call you.”

She gave a halfhearted laugh. “Meant to? But didn’t. I really need to get back inside.”

“I’ve thought about you a lot.”

“Why are you saying these things now? I mean, you could’ve just called.” Damn if she didn’t hate how wounded her words sounded to her own ears. He would probably think her pathetic. She sure as hell thought of herself that way right now.

His lips scrunched into a slight grimace. “Things have been busy.”

“Well, now’s not a good time for me.” She shivered as another gust of air whirled past. According to the weather report a cold front was supposed to be moving in. Her gaze followed his to the front of her soaked T-shirt. Her nipples drew into pebbled peaks, now visible beneath the material. She pulled from his grasp and crossed her arms in front of her chest, glad the ugly yellow lighting wouldn’t show the blush rising in her cheeks.

Luken’s gaze snapped back to her face as he shrugged out of his jacket and swung it around her shoulders. He gripped the lapel and pulled it closed around her. His body heat seeped into her skin as the intoxicating scent of him entered her nose. Cologne like none she’d ever smelled before. Warm summer nights mixed with a hint of spice. Her lower tummy tingled, spreading to that spot between her legs that had her clenching her thighs together.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

She met his gaze. Dark-brown eyes stared down at her. It had been awhile since she’d felt the quickening of desire that now began a slow roll through her. “Why didn’t you?”

“It’s complicated.”

She pulled back, trying to remove the jacket, but he wouldn’t release his hold on the front. “Where I come from, the translation is you have a wife.” Too good to be true as usual.

He gave a tug on the jacket, pulling her closer to his chest. “No. I don’t have a wife. Things have just been…complicated.”

Complicated was definitely something she didn’t need to add to her life right now, even if it came in such a yummy package. “Listen. Why don’t you come find me again when things aren’t so complicated?”

“And what if I want to just keep you where you are right now, complications and all?”

His whispered words fanned hot, sweet breath over her face. She felt herself leaning toward him even though the warning signals in her brain were firing off like mad. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

His head leaned in until his lips hovered above her own. She took in a staggering breath as she wondered if he would kiss her.

“Right now it seems like an excellent idea. I want to taste you.”

She licked her lips, ready for him to close the gap. She had a feeling this would be one hell of a kiss.

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MIRANDA'S MATE by Ann Gimpel

MIRANDA'S MATE by Ann Gimpel 

The Company Store Series Book One

As an agent for an international security firm, Miranda has her hands full. Between secretly lusting after her boss, Garen, and making sure the dirty little secret about her double life as a wolf shifter remains hidden, she’s still a virgin at nearly thirty.

Sent to eliminate the head of a human trafficking organization in Amsterdam, she barely escapes with her life. Injured, frightened, and under attack the second her private jet lands in the U.S., she doesn’t know where to turn.

Garen’s been watching Miranda just as surreptitiously as she’s been eying him. Unfortunately, the fact that she works for him is a showstopper. Plus, Garen has a few secrets of his own that have kept him single. He’s frantic once he discovers his oldest friend is besotted with Miranda too. When she insists on heading up a covert operation, he’s worried sick but can’t come up with a plausible reason to stop her.

Miranda’s life is on the line. Will Garen risk exposure to save her?

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 Chapter 1

The Gulfstream G280 shuddered as it banked hard right. Miranda Miller pushed one of the window blinds aside; it was black as pitch outside the aircraft. She felt like warmed-over crap. Her mouth tasted sour; her eyes were hot and gritty. She rubbed them and tallied how long it had been since she’d slept. At least two days. She reached for a Styrofoam cup in its no-spill metal holder, sloshed cold coffee around her mouth, and swallowed.

Her headset hummed. “Wakey, wakey, fraulein,” a heavily accented German voice rumbled. “We land at JFK as soon as the tower clears us.”

“What?” Fear sliced through her fatigue. “I told you we needed a smaller airport.”

“Sorry, fraulein. This one was closest. We are below recommended minimums on fuel.”

She considered asking the pilot why he hadn’t planned better but decided not to antagonize him. It was bad enough they were flying without a copilot—probably against FAA regulations. She had a dummied-up commercial pilot’s license tucked in her wallet under one of her many assumed names. Hopefully it matched the one on her phony passport. She hadn’t had time to check. If it came down to it, she’d been instructed to tell the tower she’d copiloted the flight.

“I need you to move into the cockpit, fraulein.”

“Alrighty. Give me a minute.”

“You do not have much more than that. I do not wish further difficulties with the U.S. authorities.”

Miranda wondered just what other problems the pilot might be referring to. She almost asked him, and then decided she didn’t really care. Her international security company engaged professionals. Most of them came from either the military or law enforcement and had checkered pasts. She unbuckled her seat belt and stumbled to her feet. Her crumpled, black pantsuit stank, but maybe only to her lycan senses. She hoped humans wouldn’t be able to smell stale blood and sweat. Her body ached, especially her ribs where her target had slammed a lead pipe into her. She fingered her side and wondered if anything was broken. Not much you could do for ribs. They had to mend on their own.

A few steps took her to the tiny head in the rear of the aircraft. She splashed cold water on her face and winced when she took a good look at her scraped knuckles. Her target in Amsterdam—head of a worldwide human trafficking organization—had been much harder to eliminate than she’d expected. She’d needed her supernatural speed and strength—and her wolf form. One more face-dunking in cold water and she grabbed a towel to dry herself.

“Now, fraulein.” The jet shuddered again as its landing gear clicked into place.

The pilot sounded so panicked she rushed down the aisle and pulled open the cockpit door. He grabbed her arm and nearly threw her into the empty seat. “Watch it!” she snapped; her upper lip pulled into a snarl. Claws pressed against the ends of her fingertips. Miranda struggled for control. Her wolf wanted to kill the human who’d manhandled her.

“Sorry.” The pilot’s voice was mild. She recognized compulsion beneath his words and wondered just what he was. “I do not wish to draw anyone’s attention,” he went on smoothly. “The rules regarding business-class jets are in constant flux.” He glanced at her with gray eyes that didn’t miss much. “Are you hurt?”

She nodded. “My, um, assignment ran into unexpected snags.”

“Will you require medical attention before you proceed to the West Coast?”

She snorted. What a subtle way of asking if she’d been shot or stabbed. Lars Kinsvogel—or whatever his name really was—had obviously dealt with people like her before. Something he said caught her attention. “Won’t you be my pilot?”

He shook his head. “Someone fresh will relieve me.”

“Will I be able to stay aboard?”

He shot her an odd look. “Of course not. You must go through customs.”

She rolled her eyes. Her lips pressed into a thin line. “That’s why I wanted to land somewhere inland.”

His gray eyes narrowed. “All flights from foreign destinations are subject to customs, no matter what the airport. Is this your first international assignment?”

Heat rose to her face. “No.” She was damned if she’d say anything else. She didn’t know him from Adam.

The radio crackled. The pilot responded in pilotese and banked the plane. “Flights from Europe are cleared to land at certain airports. With the fuel we have left, we could have landed in Philadelphia or Newark, but I have a feeling those two destinations would not meet your needs, either. What are you afraid of?”

Miranda wasn’t certain what she could tell him. Company policy was clear. Talk to no one. “Never mind.”

She thought about Garen, her boss and chairman for The Company. She’d been half in love with his razor-sharp mind, lithe build, salt-and-pepper hair, and sky-blue eyes for years, but he didn’t see her as anything but a junior-grade agent. Rumor had it he scarcely acknowledged employees until they’d become full-fledged operatives. If her fellows were any indication, she had a way to go. At least a few more assignments. And then there was the problem of her being a lycan. She sighed; fantasies of Garen went up in smoke like they always did. It was nice to dream, but Miranda steered clear of men. Between her wolf side and her somewhat unorthodox career, intimate relationships carried too much risk of discovery. She relied on her fingers, a vibrator, and the occasional one-night stand to take the edge off her needs.

The jet banked yet again and dropped lower. Its wheels made contact, and the pilot hit the brakes. Because she wasn’t belted in, Miranda nearly plunged into the instrument cluster. Lars made an aggravated clucking sound, but he didn’t say anything. They taxied off the runway.

“Since I have to get off, I need to get my things together.”

“Wait until the aircraft comes to a complete stop, fraulein.”

He sounded so much like a bot, she stifled a laugh. The plane moved smoothly into an enclosed hangar. Once it rolled to a halt, she pushed out of her seat, returned to the passenger compartment, and unhooked her small duffel from the wall. Lars’ breath hissed against her ear. “Where are your weapons?”

“On me and in my bag.”

“Put everything in your bag. Clips separate.”

“I’m not that stupid.” She pulled a 9mm semiautomatic from its shoulder holster and punched the button to discharge its clip. She drew back the slide, extracted the chambered bullet, and stuffed it into the clip. Next came a snub-nosed .38 revolver and two knives. She spun the chamber to make certain all the bullets were out and then placed everything in locked gun cases in her carry-on.

Lars still stood practically on top of her. She met his gaze, noticing they were about the same height, which meant he was five feet eleven. “Yes?” She quirked a tired brow.

“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?” His hands settled on her shoulders. She smelled his arousal and knew he had a hard-on without even looking.

“Christ! Not now.” She spun from beneath his grip. “Let’s just get through customs and allow whoever’s knocking on the cabin door to search the plane.”

“We will have some downtime in the terminal. At least an hour.” He sounded hopeful.

Miranda looked at him. Really looked at him. Lars was attractive in a Teutonic sort of way with ice-blond hair and gray eyes. His trim body suggested he worked out. Interest flickered but then died. She shook her head. “I haven’t slept for forty-eight hours. I’m dead on my feet.”

“Why did you not sleep during the flight? The air was smooth.”

Good question. She’d wondered the same thing. “I did, just not much. Too keyed up.”

He shouted something in German to whoever was pounding on the cabin door and took her arm. “I will watch over you until you are safely back in the plane.”

She opened her mouth to tell him it wasn’t necessary, but something in his face stopped her. In that moment, she understood he was a trained operative just like her. His role this time around happened to be pilot, but she was certain he’d stood in her shoes before. “Which branch of the military trained you?”

He shook his head and let go of her arm. “It does not matter. Follow me, fraulein.”

She shouldered her duffel and walked to the rear cabin door. Lars had just sprung the locks. He spoke soothingly in German to an obviously agitated customs officer. The agent’s beady, black eyes settled on her. “Do you speak English?”

“Yes. Is there a problem, sir? It’s been a long flight, and both of us are tired. It took me a while to get my bag together.”

The agent, nostrils flared, looked intently at her and then waved them down the jet’s steps. “Customs is the last door at the north end of the hangar,” he barked. “Don’t even think of running. This hangar is locked and fully alarmed.”

Lars placed a hand beneath her elbow and guided her across a concrete floor. “It is best if we do not deviate from a straight line,” he muttered.

“Holy crap,” she said. “Why are they so uptight?”

He shrugged. “As you Americans say, it goes with the territory.” He grinned, displaying very white, very even teeth. “Everything we do and say between here and the customs area is filmed and recorded.”

* * * *

Despite interested glances and furrowed foreheads, her munitions-heavy duffle had passed inspection since her fake identification pegged her as an undercover agent for the Chicago Police Department. Miranda breathed a sigh of relief once they’d scanned her passport and released her. Even though Garen told his operatives each of their alternate credentials were fully covered at all ends, she’d never exactly believed Jayne Powers existed on the Chicago PD payroll.

They settled in a private lounge specifically for business-class jet crews and their passengers. At least an hour passed. Lars handed her a cup of coffee. He pulled a silver flask from an inner jacket pocket and waved it at her. Miranda shrugged. “Sure. I’ve never made a habit of drinking in the morning, but what the hell. What time is it, anyway?”

“Around five-thirty. It will be light soon.”

She sipped the coffee, delighted to find he’d poured Irish whiskey into it. The liquor burned a path to her empty stomach. “Do I have time to grab some food?”

He frowned. “Probably. I do not understand why the relief pilot has not met us.” He pulled a cell phone from his jacket and powered it on.

Miranda snapped upright from her slump against soft cushions. Deviations almost always meant trouble. She took one more slug of coffee and set her cup down. As tired as she was, she couldn’t risk any more whiskey—not until she found out if something was truly amiss. Lars punched in numbers, waited a few moments, and disconnected. He stood and held a hand to her. “We must go, fraulein.” She opened her mouth to frame a question, but he shook his head. “We have stayed here too long, I fear.”

She cocked her head at a restroom door near the rear of the private lounge. He nodded, obviously understanding her intent. If trouble was afoot, she needed to be armed. She went inside, ducked into a stall, and dug what she needed from her bag. The ammo clip slid into her 9mm with a satisfying thunk. She checked in a mirror to make certain her underarm holster was hidden. Her reflection shocked her. Gray circles etched beneath bloodshot blue eyes. Her dark hair hung in greasy strands. She wound it into a queue and shoved it behind her shoulders.

Lars met her right outside the ladies’ room. Miranda’s practiced eyes noted the swell of a gun beneath his woolen jacket. She blinked hard to clear her head. Were they going to have a full-on shootout in the middle of JFK Airport? He shook his head almost imperceptibly, gripped her elbow, and propelled her into the corridor. At least this wing of the airport wasn’t busy at this time of day. Only a few others strode meaningfully toward destinations.

He jerked his head sideways. A half-open door sat about fifty yards away. He bent so his mouth was right against her ear and whispered as they walked. “You will take the stairs all the way to the bottom. There is a door there. It opens into the main terminal. I will meet you if I can. If I do not, take a taxi. Put some miles between yourself and this airport.” He made a sound midway between a snort and a grunt. “Hell, if you can get the cabbie to drive you to the next state, do it.”

She wanted to ask about perhaps flying back to Seattle, but there wasn’t time. He gave her a push, and the door snicked shut behind her. She heard it lock and understood he must have jimmied it somehow. She padded down a spiral metal staircase, grateful for her flat-soled, practical boots. Lights flashed whenever she passed a landing. She worried about what to do if the door at the bottom was locked. She wasn’t bad at picking locks, but she didn’t have her pick set with her. She’d pretty much stopped carting it around because nearly every lock she’d run into in the last few years was electronic. Don’t borrow trouble. I’ll find out soon enough.

Adrenaline twisted her stomach into a sour knot. Her wolf wanted out. It took precious energy to keep it contained. The stairs ended, and she stared at a metal door. The same blinking light flashed overhead. Wary of alarms, she twisted the handle. It didn’t budge. Shit! She blew out a tense breath. Lars had managed to unlock the top one, so it couldn’t be impossible.

She bent to examine the lock. The easiest thing would be to screw the silencer onto her gun and blow it to bits. Yeah, right. Every cop in the joint will come on a dead run. The lock had a card hole, which meant it was electronic. Maybe her lycan magic could tease it into compliance. She hummed a note, and then another. Something whirred at the edges of her sensitive lycan hearing. The lock didn’t give, not quite, but hope slammed into her. This could work if she was patient.

Miranda let a hand hover over the mechanism and felt its resonance. She tried a couple of three-note combinations. Her fourth try worked. She tamped down elation as the door popped open. She hurried through and tried to look casual as she tugged it closed behind her. Anxious to put as much distance as she could between her and the door before some sort of siren sounded, she ran headlong into someone and muttered apologies before she realized it was Lars.

He pointed toward a glass revolving door. She stumbled after him. Questions bubbled around her tired brain, but she knew better than to talk on the cab ride. They got out in a neighborhood of stately old brownstones. Lars motioned her up several flights of steps and into an apartment furnished in Motel Six modern. He locked a series of deadbolts and turned to face her.

“Are we safe here?”

He nodded. “As safe as anywhere, fraulein, until I can get us out of the city tomorrow. I have made arrangements for a plane in Boston. We will fly to Seattle from there. Take the bedroom at the end of the hall. There is another bedroom, but I will sleep on the couch.” She raised a questioning eyebrow. He smirked. “It is closer to the door in case we have…unexpected company.”

Miranda was almost certain she knew the answer to her next question, but she asked anyway. “What happened to the other pilot?”

Lars’ lips curved into a sneer. “Dead. The bastard who killed him will be once I get my hands on him.”

Miranda walked down the hall and into the bedroom. She shut the door behind her, grateful Lars hadn’t asked who she’d taken care of in Amsterdam. Human trafficking was global, but such an instantaneous response to losing one of their own chilled her. From long habit, she checked the adjoining bath and closet. A shower would be welcome, but it could wait. She pitched face down on the bed and was asleep in seconds.
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