SPLINTERED by Sam Cheever

SPLINTERED by Sam Cheever

Current climate in Tuktu, Alaska: Mostly sunny, with a chance of partly furry.

Life isn’t going well for Vivica Breckenridge. Recently relocated to Tuktu, Alaska, she expects things to be a little squiggy for a while as she acclimates to a whole new place, with new people and new ways of doing things. But she has no idea how squiggy they’re going to get. Until she wakes up one morning with fur over only part of her body. Things can’t get much weirder than that! Or can they?

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Excerpt:

“What’s up, Doc?”

Cary blinked. For just a second the incredible creature standing before him had sprouted ears. They’d been the cutest, fuzziest white ears, sticking almost straight up from the top of her beautiful head, but they’d definitely been there one second and gone the next.

No one else had seemed to notice, so he thought he must have imagined it. He couldn’t help thinking it was a strange trick for his mind to play the first time he laid eyes on a gorgeous female.

To cover his confusion he laughed. “Like I haven’t heard that one before.”

Vivica Breckenridge chewed her bottom lip, but her smile stayed fixed. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

She was petite, probably no taller than five foot four inches, lushly curved, and wore her silky black hair in a classy bob that angled to her chin. Her brown eyes were wide, filled with mischief, and lined in kohl-colored lashes that looked as if they were an inch long. They fluttered charmingly against her silky brown cheek as she glanced at their clasped hands. Her nose was short and narrow, widening at the end, and the delicate nostrils flared softly as she looked him over. Her sumptuous lips were sexy beneath chocolate-brown lipstick.

He had a sudden, irrepressible desire to nibble those lips.

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AN APOCALYPTIC NEED by Sam Cheever

AN APOCALYPTIC NEED by Sam Cheever

Apocalyptic Series Book Three

She might be the enemy. He might have to take her down. But all he really wants to do is make slow, sweet love to her.

Grimm Forbes has been captured by sexy spaceship Captain Cari Pascale and turned into her sex vassal. But, as alliances conspire to take down his old friends at the Authority, Grimm worries that the woman who ignites his sexual fantasies might be at the epicenter of the treachery.

It's possible he'll have to make a choice between his friends and the woman he wants in his bed. He only prays he has the strength to make the right decision, because the consequences of making the wrong one will be apocalyptic.

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Excerpt:

“You were brought on board because you escaped the Avenging Angel. There were to be no survivors.”

“Then why didn’t you kill me?”

Standing behind her desk, she made no move to sit. Her fingers tapped the clear, swirly surface as she frowned. “I’m not sure.” Her gaze snapped to his. “I’ve heard much about the fourth quadrant space pirates and I guess I was curious.”

Grimm slipped off the gurney, straightening his shoulders as his gaze burned into hers. “Well, here I am. Has your curiosity been satisfied?”

Her green and gold flecked gaze scoured over him, leaving behind an uncomfortable heat. “Not completely.”

Her slender fingers stilled on the desktop. She cocked her head again in what Grimm realized must be her considering pose. “There is much I’d still like to…explore.” She slipped silently around her desk again, swaying toward him with a determined set to her delicate jaw. Halting in front of Grimm, she held his gaze, rose up on her toes and captured his lips.

Heat flared in the places where they touched—the sensitive skin of their lips, the spot on his hip where her small hand rested, the dual spots below his pecs where the lush tips of her breasts pressed. Grimm’s cock pulsed beneath his jeans. He reached for her and his hand was jolted violently backward, constrained by the cuffs.

The sound seemed to fracture the spell and she jerked back, breaking the kiss. She rubbed her lips with a fingertip, still staring at him. “I’d heard the stories but I didn’t believe them.”

Grimm fought not to shift his gaze guiltily from hers. “Stories?”

She watched his lips move, her tongue coming out to slide across her own mouth before she spoke. “The pirates have become urban legends of a sort. They have the reputation for being very masculine and…sexually profound.”

Grimm snorted. “Sexually profound?”

She shrugged, giving him a secret smile.

He shook his head, lifting a hand to skim a fingertip along the pale, flawless column of her throat. “I don’t know what stories you’ve been reading, but they have nothing at all to do with me.”

A strawberry-blonde tendril touched his hand as her head tilted again. “Don’t they? I think they do, pirate Grimm Forbes. I think they have everything to do with you.” She held his identity chip up between them, grinning. She’d lifted it from his pocket as they kissed.

Damn! Grimm was impressed despite himself.

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SANGUI: ALPHAS OF THE BLOOD by Sam Cheever

SANGUI: ALPHAS OF THE BLOOD by Sam Cheever

He’s an elite vampire from a distant planet…an Alpha of the Blood.
But he’s no match for one spunky and opinionated Earth woman!

The Alphas of the Blood are an elite, alien race of vampires. They escaped a devastated planet that was overrun with plague-infected beasts and came to Earth for a chance at a new life…a new beginning.

The change is bitter-sweet for Zeenon Akba, who lost much of his family in the plague wars and fears his only brother might have carried the infection to Earth with him. But when Zee stumbles upon a pretty human female being stalked by an infected, he’s determined to help her, even if it means killing his own brother.

Aware of their many differences and the necessity of finding a blood slave to be his mate, Zee doesn’t intend to lose his heart to pretty and spunky Brooke Carlin. So why can’t he get her out of his mind?

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Excerpt:

He unbuttoned the blouse she wore, pulling it aside. Though he’d intended to remain clinical about the blood exchange, the first sight of the soft, milk chocolate mounds of her breasts bulging from a lacy white bra nearly made him forget what he was doing.

His mouth watered at the sight. His fangs elongated.

He closed his eyes and embraced his alpha, feeling its potency slide over him. The energy he embraced was hot and welcoming and urgent. Hungry.

His skin swelled under the change. His core temperature rose. Lust, anger, fear…every emotion he’d brought into that place intensified, flowing over him like fur over a beast when it changed. His alpha was like a beast. It was beast-like in its level of need…in the simplicity of its purpose.

If it hungered it ate. If it lusted it took, it tasted and ravished. The alpha was a sentient being with Zee’s humanoid form as its skin. But its mind was not human. Its mind was strength and power and ravenous hunger.

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UNDER A RAVENING MOON by Sam Cheever

UNDER A RAVENING MOON Box Set by Sam Cheever

The Halloween Love series box set, follows the Lupire, a race of elite protectors with both werewolf and vampire in their bloodlines, and the beautiful black females of the Lupa Guardian pack. These two elite groups share a common goal...to protect the magical and human worlds from evil. What they don't realize...yet...is that their destinies are also intertwined under mating magic...the most powerful force any of them will ever encounter.

Bound by Blood - Book 1
Moon Burn - Book 2
Blue Moon - Book 3

Deep, Dark Desire - Book 4

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BOUND BY BLOOD Excerpt:

Phelan Donald stood in the center of a clearing and lifted his nose into the air. The night was deeply, densely dark, filled with the sounds of movement from unseen creatures. Their warm scent roiled around him, making his stomach growl hopefully.

A sharp crack split the night, followed by a soft curse, as someone stepped on a twig. Phelan’s keen, dark gold gaze swung in that direction. His skin quivered and his canines elongated. He scented the air and caught the sensual tang of a female shifter, infused with a power cocktail of anger, excitement, and aggression.

He grinned. It was an interesting mix for a female.

Phelan melted into the shadows beneath the trees and waited, listening to the soft footfall of the woman as she approached the clearing. When she pushed through the trees and stood just a few feet away, his senses exploded.

Her scent rolled over him, making his body clench with need. His mouth watered and his fangs ached, but more importantly, his groin tightened at her musky female scent. She was moderately tall for a woman, broad shouldered and narrow hipped, with long legs and lean, muscular arms. Her skin was a creamy brown, and her hair was midnight black, cut short and spiky. The moonlight glazed the spiky silk with silver highlights.

Her face was a small oval in the dusky light, with high, pronounced cheekbones and slanted golden-brown eyes. He swallowed hard and fought the urge to grab her. To taste her lips and stroke her body.
Phelan frowned. No female had reached his sensual core for a long time. He wasn’t sure why this one had. She was definitely attractive. But so were a lot of the women he dealt with on a daily basis.

It must just be because he was hungry. He was hungrier, in fact, than he could ever remember being. He definitely should have fed before coming to work.

Suddenly the female stiffened, her nostrils flared as if she were scenting the air, and her head swiveled in his direction. She turned her body toward him, widening her legs in battle stance, her hands fisted at her sides. “Show yourself.”

Phelan’s shock nearly made him gasp. She’d scented him. How was that possible? When they wanted to be, his kind was nearly invisible to other paranormals. They could be invisible, scentless, and soundless, blending perfectly into their surroundings at will. But this lean, beautiful she-wolf had known he was there. It wasn’t possible. Unless.

Phelan immediately shook off the thought. His kind didn’t mate either. Or rather…it was extremely rare for them to find their perfect mate. There were too many damn rules and restrictions. Most of his kind had stopped trying, contenting themselves with quick tumbles and short, intense affairs instead. He’d been better than most at pretending he didn’t care how empty these events left him. But whatever the reason, as he separated himself from the shadows and stepped into the clearing, a single thought slid through his mind.

This was no ordinary female.

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HONEYBUN ON THE RUN by Sam Cheever

HONEYBUN ON THE RUN by Sam Cheever

Book 7 in the Honeybun Heat series

She’s fighting to protect everything she cares about. He can’t resist a damsel in distress. But he has no idea how high the cost will be if they fail.

Clovis Honeybun is working undercover to catch an assassin targeting his uncle, Senator Brick Honeybun. But his search is waylaid when he spots a pretty woman being mistreated by a guy who looks a lot like his target. Going rogue on a dangerous hunch, Clovis plunges down a trail that might be the right direction but the wrong bad guy.

Ultimately, Clovis discovers he could have to choose between saving the woman burrowing her way into his heart, or a man he’s loved and respected since he was old enough to crawl.

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Excerpt:

She was looking out over his wide, badly mown lawn, her hands shoved into the pockets of her jeans. She turned as the door swung open. Her pretty brown eyes filled with uncertainty. “Hello, Clovis.”

“Emma. You look good.”

She grimaced when she saw the discoloration around the bridge of his nose. “I’m really sorry about hitting you. Again.”

His smile was tentative. “You pack a mean punch.”

She shook her head, avoiding his gaze.

Looking at her for the first time since she’d told him she hated him, his pulse sped and his body tightened. She was every bit as gorgeous as he remembered.

He leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest. “How’s Cilla?”

“She’s good.” Emma’s gaze slipped past him. “Is this a bad time?”

Clovis wasn’t sure how to answer that. “Bad time for what?” If she was going to tell him she hated him again and to keep his damn family away from her and Cilla…well…yeah…it was a very bad time.

Emma frowned slightly, her shoulders squaring with temper. “Can I come in for a minute, Clovis? I promise I won’t be long. I just have something I need to tell you.”

His chest hurt and his stomach roiled with tension, but Clovis inclined his chin and stepped back, letting her pass before closing the door behind her.

Emma looked around the dark hallway and her gaze slid to the empty living and dining rooms. “A little light on furniture.” She turned and smiled at him.

Clovis’s chest loosened a little and he was able to breathe. “Yeah. I haven’t had much time to go shopping…” His voice trailed off as her smile slipped away. He hated to see it go.

“I know, I’m sorry about Brick. Actually, that’s why I’m here.”

He cocked his head as she hesitated. Then he realized how rude he was being. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’m functioning at barely above a savage level right now. Can I get you a beer or something?”

To his amazement she nodded. “I’d like that.”

He motioned toward the kitchen. “I’m afraid the only chairs on this level are in here.”

Clovis followed her into the kitchen, his gaze moving unerringly to her fine backside in the tight jeans. Oh how he’d missed those jeans.

He pulled two cold bottles of beer from the ancient, green refrigerator and handed her one.

She grinned at the fridge. “I think my parents had one just like that.”

Clovis patted the scratched and dented monstrosity. “I’ve grown kind of fond of it. Retro is cool, right?”

Emma laughed and the sound sent a wave of warmth skittering through Clovis. He found himself grinning too. “Sit.” He eyed the mess of papers on the table, realizing his mistake when Emma’s gaze fell on the photos Alf had brought. He lunged for them, scooping them up as her expression fell. “Let me just clean this mess up.”

Emma looked down at the table, her beer untouched on the table in front of her. “I’m so sorry, Clovis. I know saving Cilla cost you your uncle.”

He shook his head. “I’d do it all over again, Emma.” As he said the words he realized they were true and it surprised him. But deep down he knew he’d done what Brick expected and wanted him to do.

Emma’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. She sniffled and nodded, her hand wrapping around the bottle of beer. “I wanted to thank you for saving her. And to tell you I…” She took a deep breath, turning the bottle with her fingertips. “I realize you had to do what you did. I was…well…I was out of line. Out of my mind. I might have cost my baby her life.” She averted her gaze, looking everywhere but at him.

Clovis couldn’t stand to see her so upset. He walked over and crouched down beside her chair, lifting a hand to caress her cheek. Emma closed her eyes at his touch and shivered slightly. “You would never have let Cilla get hurt, Emma. I know that. But you were so upset. I didn’t know how to calm you down.” He pulled her closer. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do…”

She touched his lips with her finger, stopping him. “I know. You did the right thing, Clovis.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, something electric snapping between them. Clovis looked at her lush mouth, his body tightening with need. Emma started to pull her finger away and he reached up, stopping her. “I’ve missed you so much.” The words emerged husky and soft from between his lips.

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CHASING EROS by Sam Cheever

THE CHASING EROS Box Set by Sam Cheever

The Chasing Eros box set includes three books featuring Cupids, the Gods of Love, and their struggle against their own weaknesses and magical interference to find love. Chasing Eros is set in a magical world that navigates between modern day Earth and golden Olympus--City of the Gods.

Book 1: Eros Unbridled: In the battle for true love, sometimes those who aren't willing to fight sustain the most damage.

Like generations of Cupids before her, Daphne Charissa is doomed to a long and loveless life. Tall, smart and sexy, Bion Chronos is everything she's ever wanted in a man...and nothing she can ever have. The Fates have decreed that none of the Cupid race will ever know lifelong love. But love has a funny way of testing fate, and the power of a woman's tears should never be underestimated.

Book 2: Eros Unchecked: Love can grow amid monsters and misunderstandings. If only she has the strength to grasp it.

Athena Googlios' new client is everything she thinks she wants in a lover. But Damian Leandar is a man of dangerous secrets and complex problems. Tormented by mythological beasts and struggling with her own innate prejudice...Athena is in danger of letting her perfect man slip away. Just as she realizes how much she wants him to stay.


Book 3: Eros Uncensored: He might have been high on Brimstone when he met her. But he wasn't too drugged to recognize a good thing when she stuck a knife under his chin!

Hermes figured he had no future, so he gave up, wasting his days inhaling Brimstone in a Succubi House on Olympus. Cursed from birth, Nidras knew her future was sketchy at best. But the last thing she intended to do was give up. She thought she had to fight the curse alone, but she never counted on a drug muddled Cupid setting his sights on her and gumming up the works. Especially one as sexy and fun as Hermes. So what if he didn't have the first clue how to protect himself in her dangerous world? It didn't stop him from trying!

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Excerpt

From Eros Uncensored:

Inside the castle, we kept to the walls and shadows down a maze of long, stone hallways. My inner compass told me we were heading toward the back of the palace, deep into its ugly, stone bowels. The air was cold, damp and smelled like mildew. The stone walls we scraped against were covered in green slime. The floor was slick with the same green stain.

My curly toed shoes didn’t have much traction against the slime. It was all I could do to stay upright.
The only light in the halls came from the occasional torch, sending smelly, black oil smoke into the air to mix with the mildew.

All around us the skitter of little critter feet danced across the stone floor. Probably rats.

“I like what he’s done with the place.”

“Shh!”

I lowered my voice. “This place is like a bad cliché.”

She glared at me but didn’t respond.

We climbed several sets of stone stairs and emerged into a larger, slightly better lit area. The large, wooden door opposite the stairwell was guarded.

I looked at Nidras and sneered.

The two gremlins were about three feet tall. They had soft, dark brown fur covering their bodies and a lighter, golden fur on their faces.

Their brown eyes were enormous and soft, giving them a decidedly squeezable look.

Nidras shook her head and stepped out, knives in hand.

The gremlins blinked once, twice and then were suddenly airborne. They hit us in a wash of fur and froth, their tiny little fur faces transformed in the blink of an eye into gaping maws filled with razor sharp teeth.
My rabid teddy bear clamped its teeth over the forearm I’d instinctively thrown up to protect my face and worked it with surprising strength. I swung my arm hard in an attempt to dislodge it but the thing held on, its teeth ripping through skin, muscle and even bone as I tried to shake it off me.

In my panic I momentarily forgot to use my sword.

Nidras had flung her gremlin to the ground and was plunging a knife into its tiny chest. I couldn’t get my teddy bear off me.

Finally, in desperation, I grabbed my sword and pulled it free with my left hand, arcing it through the air toward the furry little body.

The gremlin swung its back legs up and wrapped them around my arm, making itself too small a target for me to reach with my sword. Unless I wanted to lop my own arm off.

Pain radiated from my torn and bleeding arm. I was pretty sure I’d have a big scar.

I looked up and saw Nidras standing with her arms crossed, one dark eyebrow lifted in a definite “I told you so” expression. Her knives were back in their sheaths.

“You could help me here.”

She shrugged. “It’s just an oversized teddy bear.”

Okay, I probably deserved that.

I swung around and slammed the gremlin up against the wall. My elbow screamed from the impact but the thing stopped chewing on my arm and blinked. I slammed it a second and then third time, finally managing to drop it to the ground at my feet.

Blood ran from my arm as I jammed my sword into the gremlin’s chest, finishing it off.

I motioned toward the door. “After you.”

Nidras’ face softened as she looked at my torn arm. “Let me heal that for you.”

I shook my head. “I’m wearing it as a reminder that I’m an ass.”

Her perfect, peach-tinted lips tipped up slightly at the corners. “How about if I heal it and just keep tellingyou you’re an ass?” When I still hesitated she offered, “I can leave a scar to remind you.”

I thought about this for a minute. My hand was already going numb and I figured it would be hard to use my sword soon. “Okay.”

“Watch the door while I work.” Nidras placed exquisitely soft hands over my forearm and closed her eyes.
Energy and light flooded the area around and under her hands and I gasped as intense heat infused tender, torn flesh. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I kept one eye on the door as pain seared up my arm and made my pulse pound in my temples.

Finally the pain and heat slid away and Nidras stepped back.

I looked at my arm. “There’s no scar.”

She shrugged, pulling her knives. “So I lied. I’m pretty sure you’ll have lots more reminders that you’re an ass.”

“Demon woman.”

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THE BIGGEST POSER by Sam Cheever

THE BIGGEST POSER by Sam Cheever


May the biggest liar win. Or die trying!

Personal trainer for the ever popular, Lose it! reality show, Jillie Maxwell is up for the most important award of her career. And she’s competing against the biggest b-eye-itch she’s ever met. Fortunately for her, she has the sexiest man alive in her corner. Problem is, each and every one of them has a dirty little secret that could tank a career.

For the contestants, the race is on to lose the most weight and win everything. For the staff of the popular weight loss show, the clock is ticking to the culmination of their lies and the possibility of losing it all.

Will the Biggest Poser win? Or will the lies just grow and grow until they sink the whole show? Only one thing is certain. Whatever happens, it’s gonna be an entertaining ride!

4.5 Stars Single Titles: "The Biggest turned out to be an amazing story. Little things keep going wrong in the competition and all evidence seems to point one way but as the story unfolds, the fabric of all the lies starts to come unraveled. Who is The Biggest Poser? Read this delightfully fun, sexy story to find out. You will not be disappointed in The Biggest Poser by Sam Cheever."Debby Guyette, Single Titles

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Excerpt:

He was so close she could smell the clean musk scent of his aftershave and feel the moist heat of his breath. His muscular thigh flexed against her leg as he leaned in to cut a bite of asparagus.

As he lifted it to her lips, his gaze fixed on her mouth. His tongue swept over his bottom lip as if anticipating her taste. Jillie’s body tightened with need and her mouth quivered in anticipation of kissing him.

She took the spear of green off the end of the fork, sliding her tongue over her lips to get every ounce of its flavor.

The asparagus was perfect. Slightly crisp and tart with balsamic vinegar.

Brandt watched her chew and licked his lips. “I love balsamic. Let me try.”

She expected him to cut himself another bite, but instead he leaned close and slid his tongue over her slightly parted lips.

“Mmm. Delicious. I need to try the steak too.”

He cut another sliver of meat and doused it liberally with the rich sauce. As he placed it on her tongue, she drew it in, curling her tongue slowly around it, before chewing.

Brandt lowered his head and took her bottom lip into his mouth, sucking gently. He moaned. “Incredible. The sauce is exquisite. What’s your secret ingredient?”

She closed the distance between them and nibbled on his full lower lip. “There’s a reason they call it a secret ingredient.”

He slid his hand up her bare arm, over her shoulder, and wrapped it lightly around her throat, tipping her chin so he could trail kisses along the place where her blood pulsed with growing excitement. “I bet I can get it out of you.” His voice had deepened and grown husky with lust.

The sound of it abraded her overcharged nerves, making her shiver. “Just as long as you know I’m holding out as long as I can.”

He sucked an earlobe into his mouth and gently bit down. “As you know, I love a challenge.”

She gasped. When her nipples peaked hard against the soft cotton of her thigh-length T-shirt, Jillie figured he had to be able to feel them against his arm. She pressed closer, driving the painfully hard peaks into his muscular flesh. “Are you hungry?”

His lips feathered along her jaw line and lifted, stopping a mere breath away from her lips. “Starving.” Then he lowered them and claimed her mouth in an aggressive, hungry kiss.

Jillie wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in, draping her legs across his lap and allowing him to pull her onto the tiny chair with him. His arms enveloped her, holding her close enough to feel every hard, sexy line of his long body.

She pulled away after a moment and reached for her wine, needing to give herself a moment to cool down or she was going to lay him out in the thick grass and have her way with him right there.

She took a sip as he skimmed his hands along her bare legs, fighting the urge to spread her knees and let him in. They could so easily be discovered in that very public spot. She sipped her wine and placed it against his lips, tipping it for him to drink.

When she pulled away, a drop of wine trickled down his stubbled chin. She leaned in and swept it away with her tongue.

Brandt groaned. “I think I’ve turned permanently blue in some of my favorite parts.”

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TALL, DARK AND APOCALYPTIC by Sam Cheever

TALL, DARK AND APOCALYPTIC by Sam Cheever

Website: http://www.SamCheever.com
Facebook Author Page: http://Facebook.com/Sam Cheever Author
Twitter page: Twitter.com/samcheever
Blog: http://www.SamCheever.com/blog

A grand passion in an apocalyptic world. A love beyond reason and without boundaries.

He’s a warrior, a bounty hunter in a world turned upside down. She’s a target, a creature of dark magic. His job is simple. Kill the target. Her goal is more complex. She must stay alive until she finds and destroys the source of death magic staining the twenty worlds. But the passion burning within them may be their undoing. It’s going to take an apocalyptic will to overcome the distraction their bodies are creating…and not lose themselves in the process.

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Excerpt

Yeira clawed her way across the floor, her limbs locking and clamping as horrific pain racked her slim frame. A fresh blade of agony speared through her as she struggled to crawl just another sliver of space. The pain jolted her to a stop as she sucked in a breath, sending her into a coughing spasm. Blood sprayed the floor as she crawled. Her dazed, blue gaze stared down at the bright droplets arrayed before her over the oily stone and she knew a stark moment of pure fear.

What if she didn’t make it in time?

Beyond the thick, concrete walls of her hideaway, the sound of explosions and chaos were a constant drone, an unrelenting impetus pushing her ever forward.

With a monumental effort of will, Yeira gritted her teeth and dug her fingers into the rough surface beneath them, dragging herself another inch.

She barely noticed the spark of pain as her soft, exposed belly was ripped open by shards of debris on the battle-ravaged floor. Her goal was a mere five inches away.

She thought she could make it.

She had to.

Yeira closed her eyes as agony washed through her again and lunged another inch. Her fingertips stretched…strained…mere inches from the leather strap.

The world beyond the door exploded and Yeira’s head snapped around. The blast had sounded close. Too close. Panic made her heart pound. “No!” Tears filled her eyes as something heavy hit the door. He’d found her.

With a cry of desperation, Yeira dug her toes into the stone and shoved. The pain erupted in a burst that made her vision gray. She screamed as agony gripped her gut with icy needles, tearing and dislodging the ordered cells of her flesh.

Yeira fell onto her back, her fingers clenching against the torment. Warm, thick blood drenched her lips, dripping down her chin.

The door blasted inward, sending smoke and shrapnel through the room and driving the razor-sharp projectiles into her flesh.

On some level, Yeira felt the pain of the tiny missiles piercing her skin. But she was in the grip of a misery so complete that her mind could barely form a thought. All she could do was scream, her fingers closing convulsively around the thin strap of leather she’d been fighting to reach.

Yeira’s gaze slid to the large shape framed in the door. He was nothing more than a gray haze behind the smoke. A vision of massive male, whose form all but filled the ragged hole that had once been the door.

A fine vision.

Yeira shook her head, offended by the thought even in her tortured state. No! The man was there to kill her. She couldn’t lose sight…

The enormous figure shimmered and she realized he was moving closer. On some level Yeira knew she needed to move. But the pain had finally receded as her body gave out. It felt good not to be consumed by it. For just a moment she longed to lie there, enjoying the numbness, and let her life slip away.

Death.

Her fingers moved along the leather strip in her hand. Oblivion would be bliss. Yeira slipped her hand inside the bag, feeling for a smooth, oblong shape.

The sound of his footsteps across the littered floor was like a series of canon blasts, and she winced under every one. His massive arms arched from his sides as he walked, the huge hands loosely fisted. He held a long knife in one hand. Thick, muscular legs stuck out from underneath a bloody and tattered kilt, the burgundy and black pattern barely visible under the filth of an extended battle.

Yeira noted the blade in his hand, knowing it was meant for her.

He stopped a foot away, his intense, dark-blue gaze sweeping over her. “My god, woman. You look like hell.”

Yeira’s lips opened and something gurgled in her throat. She thought it might be a death rattle, but it emerged as a laugh. She licked her lips as he cocked his head. “Bite me, Sorceri.”

Amazingly his wide mouth turned upward in a smile. “I don’t swing that way, zombie.”

A dense cold crept up her legs, slipped along her spine. In another minute she would be completely numb. She wouldn’t even feel the knife he held down at his side as it sliced her head from her body. But though she was a breath away from dying, Yeira couldn’t help tweaking him one last time. “You haven’t got what it takes anyway, Kord.”

His smile slipped. The sexy gaze darkened. Yeira realized the smoke was clearing and she could see him in all his glory…a dark avenging angel sent to rip her from the living world. He inclined his dark head, the silky strands of black hair framing a square chin, dark with shadow even when cleanly shorn. “You could be right, woman. But…” He seemed to swallow. “There was a time I would have wished for a different outcome.”

Her eyes widened. A different kind of pain ripped her chest apart. She swore, her fingers closing over the slick, oblong object she sought.

So it was to be a death of a thousand cuts—the first cut deeply severing her heart?

She licked her dry lips. “I never wish, Sorceri. Wishing is for children and fools.” Holding his gaze with her own, she clutched the ancient bluestone in her fist and envisioned her lair. The air above her thinned, turning glossy, and her nemesis started to blur.

As his sexy gaze widened in realization, Yeira was brutally ripped from the battered castle. Her lips open in a silent scream as the ascension tore her apart at a cellular level and sent her plummeting through the void between time.

But all was good. The last thing she heard as her earthly form disintegrated, was the rage-filled roar of the deadly sexy Sorceri warrior as he realized she’d escaped him again.

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Who doesn't love an ALPHA male? We certainly do! Which is why these 10 bestselling romance authors banded together to create the Tall, Dark and Alpha box set for your reading pleasure! Here's what you'll get in this wonderful and sexy set:

He makes your heart pound and melts your resistance away. He promises you a world of passion and you find it impossible to resist his dark charm. When he catches your eye across the room, you know he means business. He could be an executive, cop, shape shifter, or a bad boy looking for a little fun. Once he has you in his sights, you can't get away—and after one sizzling night in his arms, you won't want to. He’s Tall, Dark & Alpha. The alpha male is the ultimate indulgence…the richest dark chocolate…and we’re offering him to you in abundance.

Delve into the sensual worlds of award-winning authors: Randi Alexander, Koko Brown, Sam Cheever, Delaney Diamond, Eve Langlais, Afton Locke, Dawn Montgomery, Farrah Rochon, Paige Tyler, and Eve Vaughn. Immerse yourself in the alpha male experience.

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Other Stories include:
Afton Locke - Rock My Boat

Dawn Montgomery - Silver Tongued Devils

Delaney Diamond - Fight For Love

Eve Langlais - Crazy (Vampire Love)

Eve Vaughn - Sex With an Ex

Farrah Rochon - In Her Wildest Dreams

Koko Brown - Player's Challenge

Paige Tyler - Two Cops, a Girl and a Pair of Handcuffs

Randi Alexander - Chase and Seduction, Book 1 of the Hot Country Series

PURPLE PROSE by Sam Cheever

PURPLE PROSE by Sam Cheever

Forget being creatively blocked. Forget being purple. They just want to survive the process of writing the book!

When she hits the writer's block of all writer's blocks, Lindsey Prince thinks her muse has abandoned her. But she opens her door one day to find a gorgeous new one standing there, "anxious" to help her finish her current project. There's only one problem... her new muse, Zahn, has been turned purple by Calliope, Chief of the Muses, for indulging in Purple Prose. Unfortunately, his fate rests on Lindsey submitting a purple prose free manuscript to her editor. No pressure there.

To make matters worse, Zahn apparently has a powerful and cranky ex-girlfriend who isn't all that thrilled by the growing attraction between Lindsey and Zahn. She'll do anything to stop Lindsey from submitting that manuscript. Anything. Based on the extremely heated "research" she and Zahn have been indulging in, Lindsey knows her sexy IR story will sizzle. She only needs to live through the process of writing it.

No easy task, that.

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Excerpt:

The door to what was apparently my guest room was closed. I stood outside in the hallway for a few moments trying to work up the courage to knock. What Zahn told me at dinner had freaked me out. I’d been worried a lot lately about my inability to put words on paper. I’d begun to suffer under not only the pressure I was placing on myself, but also the pressure I’d been feeling from my editor, Cathy, at my lack of writing production.

I hadn’t sent anything to Cathy for six months. She’d been carefully nudging me with questioning phone calls for the last three. I was in trouble and didn’t need any more pressure.

My plan was to tell Zahn he had to leave. I couldn’t deal with the responsibility for his life as well as mine. It was too much. I had enough problems of my own.

I bit my lip and lifted my fist to knock.

“Come in, Lindsey.”

I frowned at the door, my hand hovering. How’d he do that?

I opened the door and gasped. My mouth hung open as I viewed the unfamiliar room.

“I made a few changes.”

Zahn lay in the middle of the biggest bed I’d ever seen. It was covered by a gold silk comforter that looked about eight inches thick. He leaned against a headboard that reached almost to the ceiling and was padded in the same gold silk. He wore only a pair of black boxers. They shimmered in the soft silver light cast by a matching pair of crystal lamps on either side of the huge bed.

I stepped into the room and my feet sank into the deep, soft pile of an exquisite carpet in a deep cappuccino color. Paintings of nudes in various suggestive poses lined the walls, and shimmering gold fabric draped the window. In the far corner, perched on an oversized tree in a pot, Mike dozed with his head tucked under one wing.

“Wow.”

“I hope you don’t mind. I needed to move a few of your things.” Zahn smiled.

I frowned. “Where’d you put all the boxes?”

“Around. Is there something wrong? You look worried.”

I bit my lip, unsure how to begin. Zahn patted the bed next to him. “Sorry, I didn’t think to add a chair. I usually just lie on the bed when I’m in here.”

I licked my lips, unable to stop the lustful thoughts flying through my mind. “That’s okay, I’ll stand.”

Two long creases appeared between his eyebrows. “Whatever it is, Lindsey, just spit it out. You’ll feel better.”

I opened my mouth, forcing the words out through a suddenly clenched throat. “It’s just that…well…I don’t think I can help you.” When he frowned, I rushed ahead with my excuses. “I can’t even help myself. I don’t want to be responsible for you being purple the rest of your life. It’s just too much pressure. I’m having enough trouble as it is…”

Zahn levered himself off the bed and started toward me.

My heart stuttered at his size and incredible beauty. At five-foot-three, I felt like one of the little folk standing next to him. His skin, looking black instead of purple in the silver light, shimmered like polished ebony. I knew it would be warm and smooth like the most expensive silk. His legs were long, straight, and muscular enough to be masculine, but not in the least bulky. His hips were narrow and his chest broad, with well-defined pecs. My muse was perfection in the male form. As he approached, his sexy almond eyes watched me with the intensity of a jungle cat on the prowl.

He lifted his big hands in my direction.

I flinched away, terrified by the feelings he’d conjured in me just by walking across the room.

Zahn placed his hands on my shoulders, moved them down my arms, and grabbed my hands. My pale skin looked true white against his darker flesh. “I know you’re scared and a little confused by all this, Lindsey. But I’m here because you need me. Not the other way around. I’m purple because of what I did. My actions. You have absolutely no responsibility for my problem.”

As he spoke, his skin warmed noticeably, and something soothing slid from him to me through our clasped hands. I shivered under the pleasurable assault, and my nerves settled.

Zahn leaned close, tilting his head with a soft smile. “Does that help?”

His breath danced softly across my face, and I opened my lips to pull it in. I slid my tongue over my lips as if to taste him.

Feeling slightly dazed, I started to nod but caught myself and shook my head. “No. I just don’t want your help right now. I didn’t ask for a muse and I don’t need one.” I jerked my hands from his and stepped back. I’d come into the room with firm objectives, but somewhere along the way my intentions got fuzzy. With a simple touch, he’d made my thoughts lose focus and overwhelmed my will with his. I didn’t know if he’d done it on purpose, but the result was the same. It was disconcerting.

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THE DEVIL YOU NEED by Sam Cheever

THE DEVIL YOU NEED by Sam Cheever

Book 6 in the Dancin' With the Devil series

Astra Q. Phelps was stripped of her magic and the experience has understandably changed her life. While she’s no longer a slave to the constant sexual demands of her Settling, she’s now powerless and emotionally bereft.

The uber-sexy Dialle, king of the Royal Devils, is also in trouble. He’s lost his anchor to the light and dark forces are threatening to pull him under.

Through it all, deadly forces battle to keep the two lovers apart, plaguing them with doubts of their future. Is Dialle really the devil she needs? Is Astra the devilish miss he wants? They’ll have to decide if their love is worth the risks…or if they’d be better off letting it slip away.

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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, please exit this site.

An Excerpt From: THE DEVIL YOU NEED

Copyright © SAM CHEEVER, 2013

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

Sound returned as my feet touched the hard stone of the floor in Dialle’s throne room. The room appeared empty. I shivered, rubbing my arms against an unaccustomed cold. I also noticed the small cracks in the walls and floor. Brina caught my eye and jerked her head toward the far wall.

A sense of déjà vu struck me as I followed her glance to where Dialle stood with his back to me, facing the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked over the distant skyline of Angel City. He had his hands clasped behind him, his long, muscular legs spread wide. In that moment he reminded me so much of his father King Dialle the First who was currently warming his sexy heels in the fiery environs of Hell. First had been standing just that way the day I’d been introduced to him.

But there was a marked difference. Dialle’s father had stood with cocky assurance, broad shoulders squared, chin high. Dialle the son looked, in that moment, like a defeated man.

Brina disappeared with a wisp of sound that I barely noticed.

Debris crunched under my boots as I crossed the enormous room. Dust and chunks of rock from the decaying court lay in a ragged blanket over the once-pristine stone of Dialle’s throne room. It was a disparaging portent of what was to come if the court didn’t regain its strength. That vigor was tied to the health and happiness of its leaders.

That would be Dialle and me. ‘Nuff said?

He didn’t even turn as I approached, though he couldn’t have failed to hear me coming. When I reached him, I touched his back, softly saying his name. His head turned slowly. A gentle smile curved his lips when he saw me. “Hello, my love.”

I looked beyond Dialle’s smile, to the dark pain in his black eyes. His eyes were his most changeable feature. When filled with vigor they swirled with gold and silver. When working for the celestial army they often changed to a clear, ocean blue. It was the feature prophesied for the great unifier. The royal who would eventually merge the dark and the light worlds to create a safe environment on Earth for non-magic humans and magic users alike. He’d realized that prophecy several times over, fighting at my side to beat back the forces of evil that would have destroyed us all. But looking at his handsome face in that moment, his black eyes swirling with a color that looked like blood, I wondered if the man I loved wasn’t facing the greatest evil of all.

An evil that came from within.

“How are you?”

He nodded and turned back to the window. “It’s beautiful isn’t it?”

Angel City spread across the horizon, glowing as if on fire under the burning sun that dipped below its ragged silhouette. Dusk hovered in the foreground, ready to mute the details of the skyline and embrace the lights that would paint its form once darkness fell. “Yes. I love this view. I always have.”

“Me too.” He shuddered slightly and turned away, pulling me into his arms. For the first time since I’d entered the throne room, he really looked at me. I knew the moment he turned away from his painful thoughts and embraced more pleasant things. His eyes swirled with the purple of passion rather than pain and his sad smile turned heated. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve missed you.”

He said the words as if he hadn’t seen me in weeks. My heart took a painful twist and I gave in to the impulse to wrap him close in a hug. “I’ve missed you too, bud.”

The air shimmered and I was suddenly falling backward onto his soft, soft bed, a hot-eyed devil falling over me. I laughed. “You weren’t kidding.”

Since his smile had turned playful, the pain pushed away for the moment, I shoved my worry back and allowed myself to get lost in the pleasure of his touch, his taste and the exquisite feel of his long, hard body against mine.

Dialle’s leather-clad leg skimmed up mine, gently nudging my knees apart as his long-fingered hand covered the vee between my thighs. Heat and lust rolled together in a spiral that suffused me, turning my skin to fire and lifting my pulse until it beat a delighted staccato in my clit.

His beautiful lips found my throat and branded me with possessive heat. He lingered briefly over the place where his mark used to create a powerful link between us and I held my breath as his kisses stuttered…almost as if he’d just remembered it was gone.

But Dialle didn’t delay long, his sharp, white teeth nipped the spot and his tongue came out to lave it in a soothing swirl. I moaned at the jolt of awareness his playful caresses caused in my lower belly, where lust tightened almost painfully. I reached up and tugged his white shirt over one golden shoulder and, opening my lips, layered them over his fragrant skin and tasted him. My eyes dropped closed in ecstasy as his warm, masculine scent rolled through me, bringing my senses to life and infusing me with his powerful essence. I gave in to the urge to suck the delicious skin of his muscular shoulder and he moaned, nipping my throat in response.

“Too many clothes,” I murmured.

In a blink we were skin to skin, writhing against the bed. I might have lost my powers but Dialle still had his, and his ability to remove clothing with just a thought was one of his finer skills, in my humble opinion.

Dialle’s long, thick cock nudged my belly, and I opened for him, anxious to feel the wonderful pressure of his hard flesh inside me, stretching me wide and stroking delicious caresses over the pleasure center of my body.

Dialle dropped his head and placed a tender kiss on my breastbone, sliding a trail of heat over the mound of my breast and encompassing a perky nipple in moist heat. He sucked hard and the pleasure of it speared through me, taking my breath away.

I reached between us and wrapped his cock in my hand, stroking it in a firm grip and sliding my palm over the sensitive head with each caress. Dialle showed me his enjoyment by biting my breast before soothing it with his tongue and then moving to the other nipple.

Moisture touched my palm as I fondled him. The drop of pre-come lubricated my gliding strokes, allowing me to increase the pressure of my hand around his rigid shaft. Dialle groaned against my nipple and I arched into his mouth, desperate for the feel of his lips and teeth on my hungry skin.

My legs wrapped around him and I lifted my hips, pressing against his hard cock. “Make love to me, Dialle. Now. Please?”

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THREADS OF YESTERDAY by Sam Cheever

THREADS OF YESTERDAY by Sam Cheever

Yesterday Paranormal Mysteries Book Two

A deadly secret is tangled up in Yesterday’s Threads, and Anna is racing the clock to get it unraveled.

In 1859, Elisabeth Margaret Nelson traveled to Crocker, Indiana to meet her new husband and start a new life. Her family never saw her again. The story of her death and a heartbroken husband who grieves his entire life is a sad tale for sure. But is it true?

When Anna Yesterday receives some vintage dresses from the local museum, she’s excited about highlighting them at Crocker’s annual Apple Blossom Festival. But someone wants the dresses back, and they’ll apparently stop at nothing to get them—leaving a trail of murder and destruction in their wake.

As Anna and Pratt work to uncover the deadly intrigue behind the vintage dresses, interference of another kind is working its way to the surface. All too soon, Anna and Pratt find themselves neck deep in trouble from more than one dimension—and wondering which will get them first!

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Excerpt:

 

Pratt went into the rest room and splashed cool water on his face. He glanced quickly into the mirror, grimacing. He looked like hell. But he felt good despite the long night. Seeing Anna smile again made it worth every bit of work.

Morticia had helped, as had Joss and Bess, and between the four of them they’d managed to pull some semblance of order back into Anna’s treasured work space. She’d still be hard pressed to pull the festival displays together, but at least she could see what she had to work with.

He dried his face and hands and headed into the break room. The delicious aroma of coffee met him well before he reached the door. “That smells amazing—”

Warm, soft woman enfolded him, the delicious scent of vanilla and roses engulfing his senses. Exquisite lips touched his and the world narrowed down to the sensations her kiss and nearness caused. Pratt’s arms went around her waist as he gave himself over to the sweetness of the kiss.

Anna’s lips parted and she swiped her tongue over his lips, prompting him to let her in. Pratt gladly obliged, his tongue tangling hungrily with hers. Her hands slipped upward, rubbing his back in gentle circles as her body pressed deliciously against his.

Pratt’s body exploded into full-blown need, spurred into a near-painful state by the simple press of her soft body and the sweet taste of her mouth. When she broke the kiss they were both slightly breathless.

She touched his lips with the tip of one finger and he kissed it. “Not that I’m complaining but…what was that for?”

“That was thank you. I can’t believe you worked all night setting this place to rights. I’ll never be able to repay you.”

He lowered his head and rubbed noses with her, enjoying the tender swell of her breasts against his chest. “I think you just did.”

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ESTHER EGG HUNT by Sam Cheever

ESTHER EGG HUNT by Sam Cheever

Book 3: Holidays are Hell Series

This Easter, rather than dying…again…Esther’s gonna resurrect some serious feelings in her sexy perdition guide.

Esther Mills is caught in Hell’s version of ground hog day. Every year she’s resurrected on Easter and relives her death, only to be escorted to Hell again.

The one thing that makes her life tolerable is being escorted back to Hell each time by Lucifer, her sexy perdition guide. Esther and Luc share a hot crush. But for some reason he won’t act on his feelings.

So this Easter, Esther’s gonna make sure Luc can’t ignore her any longer. She’s going to take her life back…and when she’s done with her sexy devil, he’s not gonna know what hit him!

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Holidays are Hell: Esther Egg Hunt
 Sam Cheever
 All rights reserved.
 Copyright ©2013 Sam Cheever

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

Fire lit the night sky, painting the thin film of clouds with orange and yellow light. Esther Mooring laid her head back and sighed, enjoying the cooler air that came with the night. Another burst of fire lightened the sky, ending in a series of fiery loops that made a funny whirring noise as they plunged toward the ground.

Esther's neighbors cheered, and somebody popped the cork on a bottle of something bubbly. She frowned, wondering what it would be like to celebrate Good Friday eve like a normal person. Well, at least a normal dead person living in Hell.

She sipped white wine and scratched a quickly growing bump from a bug bite. Hell didn't have regular mosquitoes. They were more like small airplanes that buzzed and snapped razor-sharp teeth as they dived toward you.

Esther generally hid in the house at night. But the holiday fireworks display was too tempting to resist. So she'd come out dressed head to toe, with her hand-held flamethrower clutched in one hand to sear the biting bastards when they tried to dive-bomb her.

Good Friday was a major holiday in Hell. Unlike Christmas, which Hellions ridiculed and banned as fiction, the pre-Easter holiday from her youth was celebrated as a happy event, with presents and parties.

Esther had never joined in the fun. Not because of any residual childhood memories about the sober way her parents had treated the day, but because, for her, the spirit of the day was all too real.
The only thing that made it bearable was knowing she would soon see him again... gorgeous Luc with the intense green eyes and perfect, round behind that made her mouth water. Though her sexy perdition guide barely spoke to her, she knew he was interested by the way that serious green gaze followed her every movement when they were together.

A loud buzzing brought Esther's head up and she reacted quickly, pressing the button to send a narrow flame into the sky from her mini-thrower. The fanged bloodsucker spread its wings and tried to stay outside the range of the flame, but it didn't quite make it. The fist-sized bug sizzled into ash in the space of a heartbeat, falling to the ground and joining a dozen of its evil compatriots.

"Happy Good Friday, Esther."

She looked up and smiled at her neighbor, Alice, who'd spoken to her from behind a privacy fence. The woman was painfully shy, but she'd been friendly enough to Esther, even though Esther had been honest with her about her situation from the very first day. "Hey Alice! Thanks. Are you going to any parties?"

"No. How about you?"

Esther shook her head. "I'll be going in to pack as soon as the fireworks are over."

Alice's smile drooped. "Oh. Yeah. I'd forgotten. I'm sorry."

Esther shrugged. "Thanks."

"Maybe they'll put you here again."

Esther shook her head. "I gave up hoping for that a couple of years back. I'm afraid the judges get too much pleasure from jerking me around."

Alice frowned. "I don't get it. Your situation is rare. I don't know why they wouldn't work a little harder to help you. It's not fair."

Esther smiled. "Thanks, Alice. I appreciate your support. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

"Whatever happens, take care of yourself, Esther."

"I will. You, too."

Alice nodded and waved before turning away and disappearing behind her fence.

Esther smiled too. Because she hadn't been just making conversation. She fully intended to get control of her situation this time. She was done letting fate decide her future. She'd been bitch-slapped by that evil hag more than enough.

It was time for Esther to grab fate by the hair and send her packing.

She frowned, thinking of what was ahead of her. She'd thought she'd known what Hell was. But she hadn't realized that, for her at least, it meant reliving her death, over and over again.

Killed in a rockslide.

She shook her head, still not believing she'd died so stupidly. Esther had been active all her life. A true daredevil, she'd functioned under a continuous bucket list mentality. She'd jumped from airplanes, swum with sharks, traveled the Serengeti, and climbed the highest mountain peaks she could find.

She'd been caught in an avalanche in the Rocky Mountains.

She'd been badly stung by a jellyfish, and had come this close to being eaten by a lion.

None of that scared her as much as reliving her death -- and resurrection -- every year.

That first year she'd just stood there and watched the rocks bear down on her. The second year she hadn't acted quickly enough to escape dying again. But this time -- the third year of her resurrection -- Esther intended to take steps.

Then she thought of Luc. Sexy, wonderful Luc. She'd really only spent time with him when she was newly dead. Not the best time or place for building a relationship. But over the years they'd formed a certain kind of comfortable relationship built on silence and understanding.

He was mostly silent, and Esther understood he was going to be that way.

Only thing was, she thought of nothing else all year long. Even her ongoing and impending death didn't hold her thoughts as often as Luc did. She thought about the way his sexy, dark green gaze raked over her, touching her with heat, and the way his big, calloused hands pressured her so gently as he guided her toward the portal that would lead to her doom.

And the way he fought for her, every single year, trying to get the evil, nasty judges to give her a permanent place to return to every time. He'd nearly gotten himself thrown into the fiery pits on her behalf the previous year.

Esther thought that was the moment she'd started to fall in love with him. But something was holding him back. Something was keeping him from taking the next step with her. And Esther was tired of waiting.
So this year, when she faded away from Perdigo and landed in the road behind her car, Esther wasn't going to just stand there and let herself be crushed all over again. She was going to run. And if Luc wanted her badly enough, he would have to chase her. At the thought, she experienced a delightful little thrill.

Esther suddenly realized the hardest part of the whole thing would be resisting the overwhelming urge to let him catch her.

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DEVIL MAY CARE by Sam Cheever

DEVIL MAY CARE by Sam Cheever

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I will. Thanks. Have fun."

"I refuse to have fun without you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Good evening, StolenHeart.

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

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

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

StolenHeart?

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

Nourrir le Cúur, eight o'clock.

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

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DEVIL UNDER THE MISTLETOE by Sam Cheever

DEVIL UNDER THE MISTLETOE by Sam Cheever

Perdition guide Damian is supposed to escort sexy Amanda to Hell. But he’d much rather keep her.

Damian Noire is a Perdition Guide. He escorts people who die to their rightful spot in Hell. Business always seems to pick up around the Holidays and this Christmas is no exception. Damian’s assignment is to bring a beautiful young woman to Hell to stand before the judgment assembly, and then take her to her assigned circle of Hell. It sounds simple. But it’s about to become the hardest assignment he’s ever performed.

Amanda Wright might have been unjustly judged. She might not belong in Hell at all. Problem is, Damian really kind of likes her. He especially likes enjoying her lush, willing body under the mistletoe. If he gets her the judgment she truly deserves, he’s probably going to lose her forever. But if he doesn’t help her, an innocent may spend eternity in Hell. It appears to be a lose/lose situation on all fronts. Proving once again that holidays truly are hell!

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Holidays Are Hell: Devil Under the Mistletoe
Sam Cheever
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Sam Cheever
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"Fuck you."

"Not today, demon. I'm off to get a Brazilian wax. Maybe next time."

"Real men don't wax their balls."

Don laughed, wiggling his fingers at Damian as he walked out into the broiling suns of Hell to start his post-holiday vacation.

Damian watched him go, feeling sour. He'd really been looking forward to some time off. The holidays were a busy time for the perdition guides. For some strange reason, more people died around the holidays, and about a third of them had to be dragged South to much warmer climes when they did. His only consolation was that the guys in white were even busier than the perdition guides.

As always, it sucked to be an Angel. Not only did they walk around with giant, metaphorical sticks up their asses, but they never got a vacay. At least Damian knew he'd finally get his time off once he finished whatever hellish task the assembly had lined up for him.

Walking against the tide, Damian glared at all his fellow guides as they headed out. They all gave him some version of the grief he'd gotten from Don. It wasn't exactly a compassionate group.

He walked through the black onyx, double doors and past the few guides and their clients still sitting in hard-backed wooden chairs. They were waiting for their time in front of the assembly, to learn which circle of Hell they'd be placed in for eternity.

Tears and glowers dominated on the pale, sometimes torn and blood-covered, faces waiting to be placed. Supplicants rarely liked waking up from death to discover they were being taken South rather than North. That was usually when your average damned soul embraced his or her inner politician.
Much to their chagrin, they quickly learned that lies and obfuscations didn't go quite as far in Hell as they did in Washington, DC.

Unlike Heaven, when a body was brought to Hell, the guide didn't waste any time making them look better. There was no point getting pretty and then heading into the fiery, monster-strewn environs of Hades.

Worm, the assembly clerk, scowled at him from across the room. The small, round man wore wire-rimmed glasses and stood in a haze of smoke that rose from the cigarette dangling between his lips. Worm didn't like when people entered the vault without checking in.

Waiting his turn, Damian ignored the clerk and stood impatiently to the side of the high, curved platform where the assembly judges looked down on the damned. One by one, the supplicants were dragged before the judges and their guides were carefully questioned about their lives. Then the judges briefly discussed the facts and decided where the supplicant belonged. Once it was decided, the guide stepped back, and the chief judge pointed his pitchfork at the damned. In a burst of light, the supplicant would be dropped into the fiery pits beneath the floor or transferred to his new home in an outer circle of Hell.

No muss, no fuss.

An hour later, the chief judge turned his red countenance toward Damian and inclined his head. The overhead light sparked against the razor-sharp tips of the judge's horns. When human mythology created its first representation of Satan, it had been an assembly judge they had depicted. Only the judges were squat and red with white horns and forked tails.

By contrast, the perdition guides looked like exceptionally attractive humans.

Damian moved to the spot at the center of the room where supplicants were meant to stand. He bowed slightly as five massive, red heads turned his way. The chief held his black pitchfork upright in one hand, leaning slightly against it as he peered down at Damian. "PD Damian, I trust you have come before this assembly ready and willing to perform your duties?"

Damian glared at the judge, knowing him well enough to understand the asshole was tweaking him. "Sir, I've never been more ready, and the only other time I've been this willing was when I had two supra demon females naked and writhing on the black sand beside the boiling sea. But of course that couldn't possibly compare to this."

The assembly chuckled darkly.

"I trust you don't intend to whip your dick out in this instance, however," the chief added with a wicked gleam.

"Not just yet, sir. Though I wouldn't get me too worked up if I were you, or I won't be responsible for the results."

More chuckling ensued. Damian stood waiting, trying not to show his impatience. Not because he thought he'd be punished for it, but because he knew the assembly would delay his departure all that much longer if they knew how much he wanted out of there.

"I'll bear that in mind." The chief looked down at the granite tablet before him, running a curved, yellow claw over the words inscribed there. "Woman kills spouse when he admits her ass does look fat in her new jeans. Oh, never mind, that was last night." The chief shook his head with disgust.
"Human males are so stupid. You never tell a woman she looks fat. Even I know that. Hmm, oh yes, here it is." He glanced up. "Your client's name is Amanda Wright. She made the list for killing someone while driving under the influence. Ms. Wright apparently ran over an old man with her car.

She'll be ready to pick up in about two minutes. You'll want to hurry. The white ones have instigated a quota system, and they're not above taking ours along with theirs just to fuck us up. We always get them back, of course, but it takes hours of bookwork to set things straight." He glared upward, his claws digging into the stone tablet with a grinding noise. "I'd like to twist those pearly sticks in their asses until they scream."

"Sir, when you talk like that it makes me want to reach for my dick." Damian grinned, giddy with his timeline. It would only take him a few minutes to grab the girl, drag her to the vault, and wait for the judges to proclaim. With any luck, he'd be on the beach within a couple of hours.

Grinning, the chief slammed the pitchfork into the ground to dismiss him. Damian turned away. He had about a minute to get up to the earthly plane. He started to run, barely holding back a joyful whistle as he went.

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ELF-SATISFIED by Sam Cheever

ELF-SATISFIED by Sam Cheever

This Christmas, Deirdre’s own, personal elf has a delicious present waiting for her!

Deirdre Phillips knows she's skirting trouble when she waits until late on Christmas Eve to finish up her gift shopping. But she has no idea how much trouble, until she walks out of the mall and finds herself embroiled in a timeless war between elves and dark fairies.

It seems that Christmas magic is more real than Deirdre ever suspected. And when she learns the battle somehow involves her, she quickly discovers the holiday season can be dangerous too.

Fortunately for Deirdre, she has her very own Christmas elf to help her survive the night. And he’s got very definite ideas for how he wants to spend Christmas!

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~Excerpt~

Deirdre shoved the mall door open and walked out into a bitterly cold night. An icy breeze pummeled her, flinging small, bright snowflakes into her face and down the neckline of her sweater. “Damn!” Deirdre sucked air, nearly dropping her bags. Momentarily disoriented in the thick fall of snow, she looked around for her car, finding it parked at the far edge of the nearly empty lot. It was already covered in a thick blanket of snow. “Double and triple damn.”

She tucked her head and moved forward as quickly as she could with twenty pounds of Christmas bags hanging off her arms. The air swirled around her and Deirdre shivered, feeling suddenly dizzy. She stopped, closed her eyes and took a deep breath, coughing as she sucked snow into her lungs.

Opening her eyes again, she started toward the spot where she’d left her car. She walked for a few minutes and then looked up, thinking she should have gotten to her car already. She blinked. There was no car. Squinting through the dense curtain of snow, Deirdre turned in a slow circle. Maybe she’d gotten disoriented somehow.

Nothing. She realized with a horrified gasp that she couldn’t even see the mall.

Air swirled around her again and a light flashed past. A muffled explosion sprayed snow and ice into the air a few feet to her left. Deirdre gave a little scream.

What the hell?

The air swirled past and this time, something grabbed her. She shrieked, dropping her bags, as she was pulled sideways and down.

A large hand covered her mouth. “Shh! I’ll protect you, princess. Just remain quiet and let me deal with them.”

She tried to look at the man behind the husky voice but when she turned her head her face saw only the inside of her fur-lined hood. Deirdre tugged the hood away from her face just in time to see a firm, round buttock disappearing into the curtain of snow. More flashes sliced through the snow and the brief illumination showed Deirdre the large rock her invisible savior had shoved her behind.

A distant, muffled scream made Deirdre cringe. What would she do if her savior didn’t survive his rescue. And what the hell was she being rescued from anyway?

She listened carefully for another minute but heard nothing. Finally the now familiar sense of swirling air warned her that someone had joined her in her hiding spot. This time when she looked up it was into the jewel-green gaze of a man with shoulder length white hair and a sexy square jaw covered in stubble. “Who are you?”

He stood, bowing low before her. “Allain Darcassan Erendriel at your service, princess.”

She frowned. “How about if I just call you Al?”

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