SERVANT: THE AWAKENING by L. L. Foster

SERVANT: THE AWAKENING by L.L. FOSTER

Book One in NY Times bestselling author Lori Foster's (writing as LL Foster) urban paranormal fantasy featuring Gabrielle Cody:Servant. Slayer. Seducer.

Gabrielle Cody has the ability to see the demons among us as they really are-and the responsibility to destroy them. She can't allow anyone to get in her way, even the magnetic Detective Luther Cross. Sensing a malevolent presence watching and stalking her, Gaby is drawn again and again to an abandoned hospital surrounded by an aura of sickness and suffering-and unimaginable evil.

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EXCERPT 1

The crimson sunrise spilled into the cramped but tidy room, bringing with it the monotony of responsibility and the taint of rancid malevolence. Funny, how people always assumed evil lurked in the shadowy night, that it wore a face of frightening proportions, that it could - in any way - be predictable.

With the 9-millimeter resting in her hand, her finger curved around the trigger, Gabrielle Cody lay unmoving. The knife strapped to her back dug into her spine with reassuring familiarity. Even in sleep, her muscles stayed taut, her body prepared.

Today, her twenty-first birthday, dawned no different from any other. Had she really hoped to have a respite from the grueling duty?

The sounds of birds awakening, cars driving by, and the relentless, rhythmic beating of her heart swarmed her mind. She wished she could deny the morning. She wished she could be reborn as someone else, someone... normal.

But no matter how Gabrielle strained and resisted, she couldn't deny the pull. With each second that ticked past, the clawing from within swelled, screaming louder inside her head, making her guts churn and her blood rush hot until the walls of her chest burned like fire. With a tearing groan and a stiffening of her legs, she narrowed her eyes and did her best to focus on the cracked and stained ceiling.

Leave me alone.

The silent command resonated within her head, just like the inexorable draw that refused to be ignored.

Battling it brought a light sweat to her skin, leaving her naked body slick. Her breath soughed in and out. The lumpy mattress took on the appeal of hard gravel, urging her to start the day.

Resistance was futile.

"Fuck it." Gabrielle thrust herself off the bed in a rush of acceptance. Her bare feet padded in hollow silence across the floor to the open window, where she stared at the hazy sunrise swimming on the horizon. The mid-June day would torture with heat and humidity - perfect for her birthday.

As long as it didn't storm, she could function. But if black clouds moved in and the thunder began to belch and bluster... Just thinking of it made her palms damp and her throat tight. Shit. She might as well fear the dark or the occasional spider while she was at it.

She snorted, scrubbed at her tired eyes, and surveyed everything within her range of sight.

As usual, her attention landed on the playground first, surrounded by a sturdy chain link fence that couldn't stop a damn thing and would offer no protection from the real threats. By midmorning, laughing, innocent children would be at play with an excess of noise and excitement.

The now abandoned elementary school drew her notice next. Once, long ago, it taught dreams and encouraged illusions. They'd put up the fence to keep the kids in, ignorant and oblivious to the true dangers lurking beneath a veneer of social acceptability.

All along the road, traffic multiplied in a scorched wave of colors and sounds and exhaust fumes. It hadn't rained in weeks and brittle tree leaves rustled under the encouragement of a hot, restless breeze.

Gaby drew a breath - and held it.

Somewhere out there, somewhere that no one could see or suspect, horrible things waited, taunting her senses, painfully pricking her nerves, making her vision slide within. She knew it. She always knew it.

She fucking hated it.

Wrenching away from the window, she unbuckled the knife strap from around her waist and carried it, with the heavy gun, into the bathroom. In her efficiency apartment, it was the only closed room. A single large room housed everything else: her bed, her hot plate, an old rickety desk and a miniscule dresser, a microwave and small refrigerator.

After setting the weapons aside, she double bolted the special door she'd installed for her peace of mind, and then turned on the shower. The original door and flimsy lock hadn't taken much more than a single punch before giving way. Now, when the rush of water impaired her perceptions, it'd require a talented locksmith or a true behemoth to break in.

Whenever circumstances like sleeping or bathing left her vulnerable, Gaby did all she could to protect herself. The shower, with its old rattling pipes, made more noise than most. At times, it sounded like the demons from hell were trying to crawl through the walls.

Some would call her specialized precautions paranoid.

But then, most had no idea that crazed demons did crawl the earth.

Death didn't frighten her. No, there were times when Gaby prayed for death to take her.

Those prayers went unanswered.

What she didn't want, what she couldn't bear to contemplate, was unending torment. She could handle pain; she always had. But if the pain had no end...

Locking her teeth, Gaby stepped under the tepid spray and let the water hit her face, trickle down her body. It didn't dispel the truth of what she had to do, what she put off doing. It didn't ease her muscles or alleviate the agony that became a part of her, more so with every passing moment.

It only removed the sweat and took the sting out of her eyes.

Lingering in the shower, she cleaned her teeth while straining her ears to hear any sound of intrusion. Ten minutes later, clean and dry, she combed back her short dark hair and dressed in a way that wouldn't draw attention. Birthday or not, she could no longer deny her God-appointed duty.

Closing her eyes and relaxing her mind allowed her to drop her resistance, leaving her open to the summons.

Like the spike of a frozen ice pick, it struck her nape, then slowly, raggedly, scraped down her spine and straight into her soul.

Her muscles jerked and twitched, and her mouth opened on a gasp as the pain dug deep, expanding to invade her every nerve ending. She didn't shy away from the agony; she knew it would do no good. As an incentive, the physical misery would remain until she finished the job.

In her practiced way, Gaby evened her breathing, accepting, embracing the pain so it could revitalize her, heightening her awareness and honing her instincts to razor sharpness.

Today someone - some thing - would die.

She knew, because she'd kill it.

But not with the gun. Gun blasts made too much noise and drew too much attention. What Gaby had to do, no one would understand.

So no one could know.

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OUT OF THE LIGHT INTO THE SHADOW by Lori Foster and Erin McCarthy

The darkest hour is before the dawn... in this sinful new anthology where the dark and light sides of desire collide in four brand-new novellas by three of today's hottest authors.

New York Times Bestselling Author Lori Foster National Bestselling Authors L. L. Foster Erin McCarthy

Embrace the darkness and experience the light in this all-new anthology filled with touching stories of happily ever after alongside smoldering tales of irresistibly dangerous, otherworldly passion. From bewitching emotions and untamed desire to dazzling romance and tantalizing sensuality, these novellas explore the complex facets of the human heart - both the light side and the dark.

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Have Mercy by Lori Foster

CHAPTER ONE

They’d been together six months now. Not super long, but for Mercedes Jardine, it was long enough for her to irrevocably lose her heart to Wyatt Reyes. Since their first date she’d loved him and every day since then, the feeling had grown more powerful. When she was with him, she felt complete, fuller and happier and more like a woman.

Only with Wyatt did she move out of the shadow of her impressive big brother.Only with Wyatt did her insecurities melt away.

What she felt for him was forever.

Now she had to know how he felt.

The thought of declaring herself, of laying her heart on the line, gave her twinges of anxiety. But if she left it to Wyatt, she figured they’d be together for years before he took their romance to the next level.

Marriage.

It was what she wanted now. What she needed.

A lifetime with Wyatt would be so wonderful. He was the most amazing man, solid like her brother, responsible and caring. He worked hard, respected others. And for Mercedes, he was the sexiest man alive. Six feet, two inches of hard, labor-inspired muscle enhanced with dark blonde hair and clear green eyes - he epitomized the rugged man’s man, but he had the confidence and charisma to be a ladies’ man too.

The concrete construction company he owned had grown even in the months she’d know him. He put all his revenue into building it bigger and better, and he had a sound reputation for quality work. The last thing she’d ever wanted to do was interrupt his five year plan. But if he’d let her, she could help him with that.

Today, she’d start the conversation with that proposal - and then move on to another.

Taking a deep breath, Mercy got out of the fancy sports car her brother had bought for her birthday, and headed for the front door of Wyatt’s modest home. Though she had her own key, his truck was in the driveway, assuring he was home. She opened the unlocked door and stepped into warm air circulated by a fan.

Even though spring in Ohio was especially warm this year, Wyatt rarely used his air conditioning. Like her, he enjoyed the fresh air more, but unlike her, he was also conserving money wherever he could.

Sometimes the differences in their financial standings made her feel guilty. After all, he worked hard for his pay, but thanks to her brother, she hardly worked at all. Most wouldn’t label her artistic jewelry more than a hobby. She was good, and her custom pieces brought high-ticket sales. But she only worked when she felt like it, or when something inspired her.

As soon as she closed the door, she heard the shower running. Her confrontational plans faltered; knowing Wyatt was naked had the effect of obliterating her best intentions.

Biting her lip, Mercy considered things for only a moment before deciding first things first. Even though she’d carefully dressed for her objective today, she hurriedly stepped out of her strappy sandals and stripped away her ultra soft camisole tank as she went down the hallway to the bathroom. By the time she reached him, Mercy wore only her summer gauze skirt, panties and jewelry.

She stepped out of the skirt before opening the bathroom door.

“Wyatt?”

“Hey babe.” He pushed aside the shower curtain, saw her standing there, and his gaze did a slow, nearly tactile scrutiny of her body.

Without a word, he held the curtain wide for her to get in.

Showing ridiculous haste, Mercy pushed down her panties, removed her watch and earrings, and stepped into the narrow bath. As quick to urgency as her, Wyatt pulled her into a long, tongue twining kiss that curled her toes and had her locking her fingers in his wet hair.

“Until I saw you,” he whispered against her throat, “I was so exhausted, I just wanted to eat and sleep.”

“And now?”

“Now I’m fully alert, believe me.” He leaned back to see her face, and a roguish smile curled his sexy mouth. “A nap holds no interest, but eating...” He covered a breast with one hand, and with the other, he explored between her thighs. “I like that idea a lot.”

Her eyes closed, her head fell back, and her heart nearly punched out of her chest. With Wyatt, she stayed so sexually attuned that a mere look had her primed and ready. When he said things like that, when he implied what he’d do, it drove her wild.

Carefully, he pried her hands from his hair and folded them behind her. “Leave them, sweetheart.”

Oh God, she loved it when he took control like this. He’d torment her, make her crazy, but in the end, he always made it worthwhile. This time, however, she didn’t know if she could take it.

“Wyatt -”

“Shh. No talking. But feel free to moan.”

Shaking all over, she put her hands to his shoulders to stall him. “Wait.”

“No.” With a chastising look, he caught her wrists and held her hands behind her with one loose fist. “You’re only making it harder on yourself, Mercy. You came in here naked, full of invitation.” He treated her to a deep kiss to emphasize his control. “Now be still, and let me do what we both want.”

The long, shuddering moan escaped without her permission.

As he turned her with her back against the tile wall, he bent to her left breast. He licked, held her nipple captive between his teeth and tongued her roughly before sucking hard.

Mercy arched her body, and he accepted the temptation, pushing his free hand between her thighs. But he only cupped her, giving her the heat of his palm, a slight pressure, without any real stimulation.

“Wyatt...”

His teeth nipped, making her jump and sending a jolt of pleasure curling in her womb. She bit her lip to remain quiet.

He licked his way to the other nipple, circled with his tongue, and then sucked lightly, a direct contrast to what she’d expected. She couldn’t predict what he’d do next, or how he’d do it, and the unknown kept her on a razor’s edge of need. She tried grinding her mound against his palm, but he laughed and eased the pressure.

In no way did he seem exhausted to her.

She opened her legs more, a silent request for him to explore, to touch her, to penetrate.

“You want my fingers in you?”

Because he’d told her not to speak, she nodded.

He came up to kiss her ear, her throat. She felt his erection against her, long and solid, and she felt his smile against her throat. “Soon.”

He enjoyed this game even more than she did. If she could ever keep her head about her, she’d one day pay him back in kind.

And thinking that nearly pushed her into a climax.

“Now, Mercy?” As if he sensed her readiness, he stroked between her legs, parted her lips, and began pushing two fingers into her. It was a tight fit, and she squirmed in mixed pleasure and urgency as he worked them deep - and then again, stopped moving.

She felt herself contracting around him, needing him, and she saw him smile. He was such a dominant personality - but he only applied that dominance to her in bed. Outside of the bedroom, he was so courteous and deferential that she felt like a princess.

He went back to her breasts, alternately licking and sucking her nipples, sometimes tugging with his teeth until she cried out, then lathing gently. She couldn’t take much more, and he seemed to know that too.

“You are so damned hot, Mercy. I love playing with you.”

Love. God how she hoped that word had real meaning to him.

Those thought obliterated when he brought his thumb up to her clitoris and lightly stroked.

She gasped, stiffened.

“You’re all swollen and ripe,” he said against her temple, nuzzling her ear, her throat. He teased her clit more, and her legs started to tremble. “So close already. But Mercy...” He stilled the movements and leaned back to look at her.

Noooo. She needed release so badly she was ready to plea with him, but he touched her lips with his fingertips, quieting her.

And he explained, “I want you in my mouth when you come.”

Oh God.

He released her hands, sank down to his knees, and cupped her derriere in both big palms. “I love how you taste, Mercy.”

Love again. The dual assault of what he said and what he did proved too much. The second his mouth closed over her, her tremors started. She covered her own aching breasts and closed her eyes against the pleasure of his tongue languidly moving over, in and out of, her most sensitive flesh. He licked once, twice, then he closed his lips around her and sucked.

Just that easily, she exploded.

Holding her upright with his grip on her bottom, he kept her pressed tight to his mouth, relentless in his assault, dragging out her climax until she did beg, until she was totally spent.

“Stop, please.”

In a heartbeat he was before her again, one arm around her waist, the other shutting off the water.

“Hold on to the towel bar.”

She managed to do that, just barely. He watched her with burning green eyes while he dried himself, and then quickly dried her, too. When the soft terrycloth towel touched between her legs, she gasped, still too sensitive to bear it - and that seemed to turn him on too.

Now he was the urgent one, and they were both still damp when he lifted her in his arms and strode out of the bathroom to his bedroom.

At five feet, nine inches, she wasn’t a dainty woman, but Wyatt carried her as if she weighed nothing. Along the way, he kissed her forehead, the bridge of her nose, the corner of her mouth. Her back barely settled on the unmade bed when he pushed her legs wide, settled over her, and entered her with one powerful thrust.

They groaned together.

At the feel of him inside her, Mercy’s body reignited and she was ready for round two. After all, with Wyatt, there was always a round two, and sometimes a round three or four. He was such an amazing lover, ensuring her pleasure before ever taking his own.

Eyes closed, head back, Wyatt stilled for several heartbeats. After two deep breaths that seemed to compose him, he looked down at her. High on his cheekbones, dark color showed the level of his arousal. The green of his eyes darkened, grew more intense. His jaw clenched tight.

Slowly, his gaze locked with hers, he pulled out, and sank back in again. He took interested note of her sharp inhalation, studied the signs of pleasure on her face. “Damn Mercy, it feels incredible being inside you.”

To her, too. She loved feeling him, and only him. After they’d been together three months, they’d given up condoms. She’d been on the pill awhile, and they knew each other well enough to trust on all health issues.

Little did she know how easy it was to render the pill ineffective.

Read the excerpt from the L.L. Foster novella, Total Control.
Read the excerpt from the Erin McCarthy novella, Deal or No Deal

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