FLESH AND FEATHERS by April Fifter and Danielle Hylton-Outland

FLESH AND FEATHERS by April Fifer and Danielle Hylton-Outland

Flesh Series Book One

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

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

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

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~Excerpt~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Actually, I consider that a loose end."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She picked up the bow before exiting the room.

Fire consumed the tiny home in a matter of minutes.



* * * *


Ten days later

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Scarlet grinned. "May I enter?"

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

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LOVE BEYOND SIGHT by Rebecca Royce

LOVE BEYOND SIGHT by Rebecca Royce

The Outsiders Book Four

When Eden Roan awoke in a mental hospital, she was nearly discovered by a demon, but a comforting voice in her mind offered safety. The voice told her she was his but that they could never, ever meet. Now, Eden is more and more convinced that the voice is just her imagination. It can't possibly be her destined soul mate. Or can it?

Samuel Quinn, damaged by the demon when he was child, doesn't want Eden to see the real him. Luckily, his powers allow him to hide using others' features as his own. But when Eden needs him, Samuel will have to step forward to save her even if it means showing the real him.

Can there be love without sight? Or will the demon finally have them all just where he wants them?

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~Excerpt~

I'm alone in the house.

Eden Roan swallowed away the lump in her throat. Why hadn't she known everyone was leaving? Her heart rate picked up, thumping hard against her ribcage. She hadn't been alone in six months. Not since Charma and Marina had found her, nearly comatose, locked up in a mental institution in New Jersey.

She swung around, calling out into the living room. "Hello? Anyone here?"

Even as she called out, she knew she need not have bothered. No one was home. She could feel the emptiness around her. Loneliness assaulted her soul and she nearly doubled over from the feeling before she pulled herself together. Wow. She was being really, really ridiculous.

It didn't mean anything that everyone had left and no one had said goodbye. Probably, they didn't mean to all leave. Each one must have thought someone else remained in the house. No way, no how would she be left by herself, in their huge house on their private island in Maine.

Except that it was December and getting back and forth from the island in the middle of winter took advanced planning. They would all have had to board the boat at the same time. Marina would have had to spell cast the water to keep it calm...

No, there was something terribly wrong. She took off at a run. Her large, sturdy feet bracing her body for the run she made down the hall. Sebastian, the demon, must have gotten to them. They were all dead. That was the only explanation.

"I've got your mind, Eden." She heard the voice of the demon resonate through the halls of the too empty house. Even though she had personally never spoken with him before, she had no doubt he was who tormented her now. "I've killed the others and now I'll spend eternity torturing you with just what I want you to see."

With a jolt, Eden sat up. She panted like she'd really been tearing down the hall instead of sleeping in her bed. Her white cotton floor-length nightgown felt soaked and she realized she'd drenched it with cold sweat. Wrapping the covers around herself, she shivered as she lay back down on her pillow.

Through the slight cracks in her drapes the light of the early dawn illuminated her bedroom in the dampened colors of a new day. December in Maine proved to be an unforgiving month. She'd lived in cold climates before but never what she faced on the small private island the Outsiders called home. If she tried to get up now, soaked to the bone as she was, she'd freeze. The heating system in their house wouldn't kick into full gear until more than just she got up and moved around. It was supposed to be ecologically friendly.

As Eden always awoke--usually in a panic--hours before everyone else, she couldn't help but think it really, really sucked. A tear slipped from her eye and she brushed it away, scratching her cheek slightly with a nail she really needed to trim.

She sniffed. There was no denying the truth any longer. The dreams were getting worse. Nightmares were no longer a sometimes occurrence. When they happened every night they had to be called what they were: a chronic problem. Added to the still uncontrollable premonitions she couldn't seem to learn to handle, Eden spent more and more time lost in hellish visions presented to her by her own mind.

A slight tapping on her door startled her and she rolled over, pulling the covers up around her neck. Her nightgown hid her better than most dresses did but she'd been raised in a world where modesty ruled and she suspected she'd never get over her prudish nature.

"Come in." Her voice sounded like a frog had taken up residence in her throat with no intention of ever leaving.

The door creaked open and the face of Charma, one of her fellow Outsiders, peeked around the door. Her petite friend smiled at her through barely opened eyes. Charma always looked put together, even with her pixie cut hair sticking out in a million directions. Eden suspected her own strawberry-blonde hair had plastered down to the top of her head when she'd sweated in her sleep.

"I woke up and felt like you needed me." After silently closing the door, Charma padded quietly to her bed. "Scoot over."

Eden obeyed without thought. Charma and the other Outsiders had become family to her in the six months she'd been with them. She trusted them implicitly, which was a good thing considering they were all expected to kill a demon together. Charma climbed into the bed next to her.

The bed dipped as Charma adjusted herself. Eden couldn't help but smile. She'd never had a sister. This must have been what it was like.

"Did you have another dream?"

"Nothing new." Eden stared up at the ceiling. "Jason doesn't mind you abandoning your marriage bed to come in here and deal with me this early in the morning?"

Charma groaned. "First of all, Jason is happily snoring away. I don't even think he noticed I left the room and even if he had, he wouldn't care. You're like his sister. We're both worried sick about what is happening to you."

Great. When both the physical and emotional healers of the Outsiders worried about you, it couldn't be a good a thing.

"Second, you're never a bother. You're important to me. You're family. And finally, third... marriage bed?"

Eden snickered. "Every once in a while my rural-hickness rears its ugly head in my vocabulary."

Charma covered her mouth to restrain her laughter. "The things you say. Jason and I aren't married."

"You might as well be. You're soul mates. That's probably more important than marriage."

Not that Eden would ever know. Her own soul mate refused to show himself, speaking to her telepathically in times of crisis but otherwise staying out of sight.

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LOVE BEYOND LOYALTY by Rebecca Royce

LOVE BEYOND LOYALTY by Rebecca Royce

The Outsiders Book Three

When Gabriel and Loraine are forced together by the destiny he denies and she is ignorant of, they will both finally have to accept their Outsider legacy and help the others in the quest to defeat the ultimate evil - a demon bent on world domination.

Gabriel Ward has no problem with the fact that he's an Outsider. Hell, he's always known he was different. What he takes issue with, is the idea that he has to follow any destiny at all. He's always taken care of himself, and there's no way he's going to start following rules now.

Loraine Peacock can speak to animals. Other than that, she thinks she's just a regular woman making her way in the world. She figures it's not that weird. Many people have unusual abilities.

But when Gabriel and Loraine are forced together by the very destiny he denies, they will both have to accept their legacy and join the Outsiders in their quest to defeat the ultimate evil. That is, if they can survive long enough to find their way to their most important destiny of all: love.

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~Excerpt~

Gabriel stood outside his house. Like all his neighbors and most of the properties in North Shore, Louisiana, his home rested upon pillars meant to protect the structure from the flooding of the river during massive storms. Lord knew Louisiana weather could get out of hand fast. He wiped a hand over his sweating forehead before taking another sip of his Abita beer.

There was nothing like hard work and cold alcohol to make him feel tired on a hot, humid afternoon. He picked up his hammer and went back to work nailing the extra boards on to the pillars that held up his house.

Humming to himself, a tune he recognized as nothing other than musical nonsense, he hoped that the boards would take more of the brunt from the debris in the river the next time it flooded. Of course, he hoped it never flooded again, but it would be foolish to assume that would happen. For the first time in a long time, he felt really good about things on the home front. He set down his hammer, deciding he could give himself a brief break from the work he loved.

Smiling, he sat down on the riverbank and looked up at his house. He'd built it himself. When he'd purchased the property, it had been nothing but a beat-up lot with no home left standing on it. It had taken two years to get it where it was now. The smile fell from his expression as he ran a hand through his dark hair.

Was he just supposed to give it up?

That's what it would mean if he joined the Outsiders, who were forever in his thoughts, and became a real player in the battle to save humanity. He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them.

It wasn't that he didn't care about the struggle or the outcome; in fact, there was little he worried about more. But if he did what they wanted, if he embraced his heritage, and joined their world fully, there was no going back.

He didn't care what promises they made about a normal life when the battle was done. That would never come. No, if he gave in and joined them in Maine where they plotted, planned, and bit their nails over the upcoming war, he'd be saying goodbye to all of this--to everything he'd always valued.

That wasn't an easy thing for a man like him to do.

Raised alternatively in terrible foster homes or on the streets of New Orleans and Baton Rouge, he had sworn to himself that someday he would have a place to call his own. A home, that he owned, which he could live in and never have to leave.

So help him that was going to be this building. And, despite the fact that he knew he might be fighting a losing battle in resisting the Outsiders' call, he couldn't seem to bring himself to leave it. Not even to go engage in an epic struggle that had been raging long before he was born and would continue when he was six-feet under.

Sighing, he rubbed his nose when a fly swept past it. He knew the requisite evening phone call would come. Leonardo, the unofficial leader of the Outsiders, called him every night just to 'check in'. Gabriel wasn't stupid. He realized the guy was trying to wear him down. In some ways it was working. He was at least thinking about the subject of leaving on a regular basis. But Gabe was a stubborn bastard. Always had been.

The answer three months ago when the conversations had begun had been 'no' and it continued to be 'no' now.

Not to mention he couldn't leave Alexa. Even if she wasn't currently speaking to him.

When he'd first heard the notion that all Outsiders had soul mates, another Outsider picked by the Heavens to be their one and only love, he'd been intrigued and actually wondered for a while if his might be Alexa. He'd quickly dismissed the notion. One of the requirements for being a soul mate was an overwhelming sexual interest in the other person. When he looked at Alexa, he could see that she was pretty but did he want to fuck her?

Absolutely not.

She was the first friend he'd ever had. They'd met on the brutal streets of New Orleans and bonded over the fact that they could both do 'things' they shouldn't, as human beings, be able to do. But, while he had managed to resist the demon--Sebastian--that wanted to control them, she had not. Out of all of his problems, that one ranked first on his list and he had no idea how he'd handle it.

Sebastian was always impeccably dressed, most of the people of his acquaintance thought he was a kind, charitable person raised in the genteel south where men were called 'sir' and women 'ma'am'. Little did they know he was a hell beast called forth by an ancient prophecy to kill them all.

Those same people would probably suspect even less that he, Gabriel Ward, sometime carpenter, sometime plumber, sometime handyman, was actually a member of an almost dead race of people called upon to defeat Sebastian. The idea might be laughable if it wasn't so damn real.

He stood up and shook his hair, hoping some of the sweat would drip out before he refastened the tie. It was really fucking hot.

Walking to the river, he decided that maybe tomorrow he'd stop his construction and take his boat on the river to do some fishing. He didn't have much of a knack for fishing. All he ever caught were the Croakers and they made such a disastrous noise when he pulled them out of the river that he'd throw them back.

Still, for him, the point of the exercise was to spend the day out on the Gulf with his thoughts and no work to distract him. He stared down at the water. It was looking a little bit greener today than usual. Were they having an influx of some kind of moss or algae infestation? Admittedly, for living on the river, he knew little about these kinds of issues. Stealing money on the streets of the French Quarter to feed Alexa had not provided him with the right education when it came to marine life and water problems. Taking one last swig of his beer, he decided to do an Internet search when he got back to the cabin, and maybe buy some books on the subject.

It was so peaceful here he could stare out at the gentle swell of the water all day. He bit down on his lip as he rubbed his nose. Except today it wasn't gentle. Something caught his attention.

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CHRISTMAS RUM BALLS by Cherie Noel

CHRISTMAS RUM BALLS by Cherie Noel

Santa Neil in leather, elf Tony in a sock; Watch naughty Kevin, falling like a rock.

He's off the nice list--coal city's straight ahead, 'Til a miracle's made with wrist restraints, a bow and Rum Balls in their bed.

Santa Neil and Elf Tony have a problem. Their wayward boy Kevin, fallen off the nice list and headed straight for coal-in-the-stocking-city, is hauling around a truckload of unnecessary guilt.

Together, they mix up a brand new recipe for Christmas fun, complete with Santa Neil in leather, Elf Tony in a smile and a strategically placed sock, and of course, some delicious Christmas Rum Balls.

They're bringing the big day early, but one question still remains... Can they entice Naughty Kevin to release his burden and open his sweet self to the Christmas spirit all around him?

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~Excerpt~

"Neil, we'se got a problem."

Neil looked up from the freshman Art History term papers currently causing both his red marking pen and his eyes to bleed.

Tony stood just inside the door of Neil's home office, squarely in front of Neil's wide oak desk, naked from the waist up. Flecks of red in various shades dotted his torso. Neil smiled. The spatters of red paint on his lover's body were a damn sight easier to look at than the mutilations of both art and history most of this term's freshman class routinely handed over in lieu of well written papers.

"What's the problem Tony?"

Tony cast a worried frown over his shoulder.

"Would it be okay to shut the door, do youse think, Neil? 'Cause I don't wanna break none of the rules, but I don't want Kevin ta hear this part."

Neil's eyebrows crept toward his hairline. The open door policy was one he'd come up with. Tony seemed to be taking it quite literally today. Neil bit the inside of his cheek. Tony had come so far since his injury. Some days Neil had to remind himself that his lover had suffered a traumatic brain injury at the hands of a former boyfriend. Tony had come into the ER on a day Kevin picked up an extra shift to cover for a friend in need, and Tony had been his last patient of the day. Kevin still held on to guilt
over not doing more to help Tony that day, before the second beating happened. Everyone else, including Tony, believed the helpline numbers Kevin had given Tony during his exam had saved the big Italian's life.

Tony had been on the phone with the helpline when Robert broke into the room Tony was hiding in and beat the big gentle man into unconsciousness. The helpline worker had heard the breaking door, and placed an immediate call to 911. Tony had gotten help as fast as was humanly possible.

Neil thought the amazing recovery Tony had made could rightly be attributed to Kevin as well. Kevin had gone beyond the call of duty when Tony ended up on his regularly worked floor. He made sure that Tony got every rehabilitative therapy offered, and when it became clear that Tony would need additional assistance once he got out, the sweet nurse had taken Tony into his own home as first a house guest, then as he recovered enough to return to his art studies, a roommate, and finally, at Tony's insistence, as a lover.

Neil jiggled his legs.

Tony turned from the door, a crinkle marring the smooth olive expanse of his forehead. His big, melted chocolate eyes zeroed in on the marking pen Neil was tapping against the desk. Then Tony looked up. The pupils of his eyes were blown wide, turning them to dark fathomless pools. The corners of the big Italian's mouth pinched together, a line of white ringing his lips.

Neil stilled completely in his chair.

Tony had bad days though, days where he had mini seizures or was especially forgetful, days where he clung tothe "rules" Kevin had originally come up with, back when the two of them first lived together. On his difficult days, Tony sometimes treated those bloody rules like they were the only thing holding him steady, and he would even speak of feeling frightened one of his lovers would lash out at him in anger. Neil took a quick deep breath, struggling to unclench his jaw.

He hated Tony's bad days. Neil did everything he could to make them better, and fewer. The bad days took a toll on Tony, Neil, and, most especially, Kevin. Neil's anger had nothing to do with Kevin, the rules,or the gentle, lumbering oaf who became a surrealistic, graceful work of art in his own right when a smile lit his face or one of his passions consumed him.

Painting.

Kevin.

And lately—Neil fought to keep his grin of delight tucked inside lest Tony misinterpret the expression—Neil himself. The smile escaped. Tony gave a faint answering smile, and Neil’s heart clenched.

Neil thought the three of them would have found each other even if Tony hadn't needed a third partner to feel safe. The process would have likely taken longer and Neil had long since given up trying to decide if he were more happy they had found each other quickly or sad about the events leading to their finding one another.. Neil leaned back in his chair, carefully placing his pen down, and addressed Tony's question about the door.

"Sure Tony. You can shut the door."

Tony spun around, peered into the hall cautiously, and then eased the door shut. He strode back to the desk, leaned down and spoke in a hushed voice.

"Kevin thinks Santa's real, Neil. Santa. Do youse think maybe he's been dippin' into the medicine at work?"

Neil's eyes widened. He bit back a rueful laugh.

"Tony. Er, what makes you think Kevin believes in Santa?"

Tony stood up, put his hands on his hips and cocked his head to one side.

"We was fucking in the kitchen. On account of he came in to get his dinner together for work today looking especially good. Youse know how he rolls outta bed sometimes looking like he just got done real good? Yeah,so that's how he was looking. And he came in all slow and needing coffee and bent down over the table."

Tony paused there. He scrunched his nose up, and patted his chest.

"I'd been paintin' in the studio, cause if I don't get the oil paintin' I'm working on of the tree out back done before the leaves finish changing—well. Youse understand. The reds might not be the same next time."

Neil nodded.

Tony scratched at his cheek.

"So, anyways, I can just stand so much. I came in to get a cuppa joe, and there he was all sleepy an' fuckable." Tony shrugged, a dreamy little smile flitting across his face.

"Anyways, Neil, when we was done, he was all outta breath an' looked even better than when we'se started, an' I told him I knew just what I wanted from Santa." Tony shook his head. He waved one hand above his head.

Neil's smile grew broader. He loved the way Tony used his hands to talk.

"Kev got this real anty look on his face, Neil. Youse know, like he was carrying somethin' heavier than he is, like the time you and me saw the documentary 'bout ants on Animal Planet? So then he told me I'd been real good so Santa was sure to bring me what I was wantin'. He spoke all serious like, and then he took off for the shower."

Tony worried one corner of his bottom lip with his strong white teeth.

"I don't think this is good, Neil. Kevin's too old to believe in a real live actual Santa Claus."

Neil snorted.

Kevin kept getting tangled up in worrying so much about Tony's brain injury he treated the big Italian like a child.

A situation that did favors for none of them.

Tony continued to speak.

"Yeah, Neil, that's just what I thought, too. It don't make no kinda sense for a smarty like Kevin to still think Santa's real."

Tony's thick black brows rose as high as they could go.

Neil fought down the desire to find Kevin and ask what the hell he was thinking. Tony was a grown man, and Kevin was needlessly worrying the shit out of him. Neil cleared his throat.

"Tony, what do you think we should do about this situation?"

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WORLD WITHOUT END by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

WORLD WITHOUT END, AMEN by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

Judith answers the doorbell, to her past: Eamon O'Hara. There is no question as she leaves everything--kids, husband--to return with him to Ireland. Things, however, aren't quite as they seem as Judith adjusts to her new reality.

When Judith Richardson answers the doorbell one October morning, she finds her past love--and husband--Eamon O'Hara at her door. His unexpected return challenges her complacent life, revokes her marriage, changes everything. Their love remains alive and powerful. After an intimate reunion, Judith realizes that she's willing to walk away from her family responsibilities and the life she's built to be with the love of her life. Everything changes as she leaves to go home with him to Northern Ireland, but she's happier than she's been in years.

As they arrive on Irish soil, she begins to realize that things may not be quite what she thought they were. Once they return to his native Derry, Eamon tells her a truth that will shatter everything she's believed, and threatens their happiness--unless she can accept the new reality.

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~Excerpt~

On an ordinary late October morning, Judith Richardson tried to tune out the clocks ticking too loud beside the framed family photographs on the wall. Those were easier to ignore than the kitchen sink heaped with dishes she should be doing, and the stereo blasting out the music of her youth.

The doorbell rang. Judith thought it must be the mail carrier with a parcel or maybe the silly woman from two doors down who sometimes popped in to borrow something strange, a potato or a pencil, or once, a can of hair spray, so she didn't hurry. She plumped up the couch pillows as she passed and when she opened the door, she pasted on her phoniest smile. It faded the moment she saw who stood on her threshold, as nonchalant as if she'd seen him just days ago instead of years.

Her heart paused, the rhythm off beat, as she stared for a very long moment and then a real smile, wide and warmer than melted butter spread over her lips. She parted them to speak, to say something but no words came out. While she dithered, he came forward and she welcomed his embrace backing up so that he stood just inside, not out on the porch in view of the neighbors.

"Acushla," he breathed into her hair. "Judith, woman, it's grand to see you again."

"Eamon, is it really you?" Despite the solid feel of his familiar body against her own, she couldn't believe he was here. "I heard you were dead."

"Don't believe all you hear," Eamon O'Hara told her. "I've come for you."

That had been her desire for so long, that he would come after her, alive after all, but he'd arrived too late.

"Eamon, I'm married now with two children," Judith said, as her heart broke again into a thousand sharp shards. "I can't go with you."

"You're my wife."

That basic truth was far from simple. She nodded, struck silent by the pain radiating from her heart out into the rest of her body.

"Do you love me?" he asked.

Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them away, quick as if speed might conceal her emotion. Eamon shifted her position until their eyes met, his dancing black ones gazing into hers with powerful love. Then, before she could even think about stopping him, Eamon put his mouth to hers and she yielded, her body telling the truth her lips denied.

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LOVE BEYOND SANITY by Rebecca Royce

LOVE BEYOND SANITY by Rebecca Royce


The Outsiders Book Two

Eighteen years earlier, Charma lost her destined soul mate. Convinced he must be dead, she kept her fears to herself so as not to destroy the morale of the Outsiders who already live with a shaky prophecy as their only guide.

Dr. Jason Randall is a man used to getting what he wants. There has never been a problem he couldn't out think or a situation he wasn't capable of handling.

Now they are both hunted by not one but two demons as they lead the slowly forming group of Outsiders out of the darkness and back into the light. The two strong souls will have to decide if prophecy alone is enough reason to stay together through insane odds...or if love is their true fate.

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~Excerpt~

She had to protect her daughter. Larissa Monroe knew her life was coming to an end. Truthfully, she and her husband had signed their own death warrants the day they'd silently watched and not objected to the summoning ceremony that had brought this demon into their midst.

Rounding the corner in the cave Morgan and the others had created as a hiding place for them, she heard Charma's cries in the distance. Morgan was not as good at comforting their daughter as she was. This wasn't surprising, Larissa was more than just a healer; she was a telempath. Charma was not yet able to speak--being only months old--but Larissa was still able to know exactly what she needed and what to do to comfort her most precious gift. It was good for Morgan to bond with Charma--even if the child ended up screaming twice as long when she was with him. Their time was short, whatever happened to Charma now, the most likely scenarios were that Larissa and Morgan would not be with her.

They had been hiding in this forsaken place for months. It was damp, mold ridden, filled with vermin, and all around horribly uncomfortable. However, since they'd had to run from the hills that housed them safely and kept them hidden for millennium, this place had seemed like blessed haven. All in all, she'd never been so grateful to live in what basically amounted to a cave in the whole of her two-hundred-year existence.

Balling her hands into fists at her side, she narrowed her gaze. Her husband would be useless; he'd all but frozen under the strain of these last few months. If she was a mindmelder, he was a true healer of the soul. The very idea of the amount of death and destruction had all but rendered him useless. Men, who had run the Outsider society for generations and all but destroyed it with ego and competition, were decidedly lacking in ideas for getting them out of this mess. It was going to be the women who helped it survive. Let's face it, she mused, sometimes you just couldn't beat a prophesized destiny, no matter how hard you tried.

The Great One, the unofficial leader of the Outsiders, had prophesized eighteen children would be born together--they had, all of the children born on that fateful night were proof of that--and one born far away. The lone child would destroy the Outsiders and after that the entire world, if the eighteen could not be taught to stop him.

Somehow, these children had to grow up. It was imperative. Even more importantly, it seemed, the eighteen born to the Outsiders each came with a soul mate within the group. Someone else they were connected to, whose power would enhance their own.

Larissa wasn't a prophet--she left that to the Great One and his ilk--but she'd be hugely surprised if Charma and Melster were not meant to be together. Beyond the fact that they were so strikingly similar physically, Larissa had seen into each of their minds. She'd taken a peek, and somehow they were the same. The energy that was generated from their brains that resonated into their souls was strikingly similar. Both of them would be healers, although if Melster took after his family, it would be of the physical nature rather than emotional or mental healing. It was likely they would also share a tendency towards self-evaluation that both families possessed. Even more so, however, she'd seen a 'sameness' about their auras. Something that told her they were meant to be together.

She suspected that Melster's mother thought the same thing, which was why the other woman had suggested they journey together. Larissa was going to need Tatiana now. They'd have to be strong together, especially since she was going to suggest to one of her oldest friends that it was time to send their children away. As full blown 'healers', and even Larissa's telempathic abilities fell under this Outsider heading, she and her husband Morgan had no offensive powers to speak of. If it came to violence, she could use her hands and feet to fight but had no magical abilities that could cause another pain. Because of this, she was used to having to flee.

She tapped lightly on the makeshift door that had been made in the cave to give the illusion of privacy. Illusion was really what it was. If anyone sneezed, you heard it.

"Come in," Tatiana answered, her voice strained in a manner that told Larissa her friend was stressed but trying to appear calm.

Larissa pushed forward and although the door was light, it felt like she had the weight of the world in her hands, making the simple task next to impossible. Finally moving into the room, she immediately recognized the comfy surroundings Tatiana had created for her small family.

A full size bed sat in the corner, not as luxurious as the one her friend had left back home, but functional and, Larissa imagined never having sat on it, comfortable. Next to it, a few feet away, was the wooden crib Troy, Tatiana's husband, had constructed for the baby when he'd found out she was pregnant. He'd had to use it much sooner than he'd thought as the baby had come a full two months early. They'd been terrified that the child would be ill and not live long in the world and yet he'd been born full sized and perfectly healthy. Just another oddity that revealed the truth of the prophecy.

Tatiana stood up from the wooden chair she'd been sitting on while holding the baby. She held up a hand that indicated she wanted quiet and crossed with her sleeping son to the crib. Placing him down gently, she took a few seconds to adjust the blankets over the cherub-looking baby before moving to where Larissa waited.

"I know what you're going to say, and I just can't face it."

Larissa shook her head. "I doubt very much you know what I'm going to say unless you've suddenly developed a prophetic power I know nothing about."

Tatiana laughed, which had been the purpose of the wild statement Larissa had made. "No, of course not. Tell me then, did you not come to suggest we need to run again? They might have just been wolves last night, not necessarily carriers of His message." The other woman sighed. "I can't face running again."

Nodding, Larissa sat down in the chair Tatiana had vacated. She fiddled with her skirt to give herself a moment to ground herself. What she was going to suggest was the hardest thing she'd ever said aloud.

"I can't run anymore either. It goes against every Outsider instinct I have. We may look human, but we are not. Even humans get tired of running after a while; we lose patience with it much faster."

"So what do you suggest?"

Larissa almost laughed. Tatiana had always had a way of cutting through hidden agendas and messages to get to the truth within. She wasn't going to give Larissa a break, even now.

"I think we need to send the children away from us."

There, she'd said it. She'd put that thought out to the universe. Now they would have to see what would happen.

Tatiana scoffed, her eyes narrowing. Larissa could see her friend's objections all over her face and in her brown eyes. "That's ridiculous. Where would we put them? Who could protect them if not us? Well, in your case..." Her friend trailed off, realizing what she was about to say. Larissa didn't need her to finish her thought; she knew exactly what she would have said.

"Well in our case we can't save our daughter even if we wanted to. Was that what you would have said?" Even though she knew it to be true, she wanted Tatiana to admit to it. Larissa rose from her seat to be the same height as Tatiana, eye contact was important.

Tatiana sighed, her shoulders slumping, and Larissa lost some of her anger. They were all under an enormous amount of stress. Tatiana finally spoke. "You don't have any offensive powers. You know that's true. We all dance around the subject, but let's just face facts. Neither you nor Morgan can wield magic that can even wound, let alone kill."

"That's true." Larissa nodded. "Remember, Tatiana, even the most gentle creatures can kill when provoked to save their young." Clasping her hands in front of her, she tried to move on from this subject. "I would beat with a bat someone who came at Charma, until they were broken and bloody like the most meager human, if I had to. Besides, Morgan and I have always thought it was just as important to outthink our enemies as to win in a physical battle."

Larissa had seen enough of what stupid brawn and pride could do. It was what had gotten them into this mess to begin with.

The Great One had prophesized that eighteen children would be born together and one apart. The eighteen were the world's saviors. Each having a soul mate, they would battle the child born apart. He was, this lonely baby, evil personified. It was also said he was a demon from another dimension. Larissa sighed. They'd seen so much death, so much destruction. They didn't want to see it happen to their children--even if it seemed ridiculous to think that eighteen children could be born together. There weren't that many women pregnant. So they had tried to thwart destiny and in the end they had made it come true. Without the knowledge of the Great One or Abraxas, their elected leader kept separate from the religious overtones of the Great One, they'd called forth earth magic. The idea had been to bring the evil to earth and trap it within magical means that would prevent it from ever being born.

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LOVE BEYOND TIME by Rebecca Royce

LOVE BEYOND TIME by Rebecca Royce

The Outsiders Book One

Born one half of a perfect pair, Kal has spent his life believing his other half is gone. But when fate thrusts Isabelle into his arms, he will have no choice but to become the man he was destined to be. That is, if he can battle his own demons first.

Not willing to accept her heritage as an Outsider, Isabelle tries to hide from the truth. But when Kal's life is on the line, she will have to step forward and embrace her powers or watch everything she has come to love disappear.


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Excerpt:

Abraxas Moore stared one more time at the unforgiving clouds forming above him. The weather would soon become perilous, and he knew he had very little time until they caught him. Even the Green Hills, the place that had sheltered him and his kind for centuries--their home--was no longer safe.

The rain that he was sure would start at any moment would not be life renewing. It was not a sign of rebirth, and he knew with a near perfect certainty it was not even natural in its origins. Rather, it had been conjured by those who sought to kill him as a means to draw him out into the open. They hoped he would make a mistake and fail at his task. Then they would be able to trap and kill him.

Most disturbing, however, was he knew they would succeed in their task.

His role as leader of his people, not one he ever truly sought, weighed heavily on him that night, and he knew not even the love of his wife, Niki, would sustain him through what was to come. The prophecy was no longer something that would eventually happen, but was actually occurring in front of his eyes.

Time had finally caught up with them.

After centuries of very little change, his people were facing almost immediate destruction, and it had fallen to him to somehow find a way to help them survive what would be certain annihilation.

Ironically, the storm that had come out of nowhere this evening had been the final sign he needed to indicate their impending doom. When an Outsider stopped being able to predict the weather then it really was the end of the world.

How would humanity last even another decade without them around to silently keep the balance of lightness and darkness in order? His people had thrived, for centuries by walking the lines of grey that fell between the two extremes of Good and Evil. They kept order and balance in their little space in the universe.

They always had and he had hoped they always would.

Oh sure, they may have slightly pushed things towards the side of Good whenever possible. They were, after all, not Gods or Deities who could see the fabric of time and know the outcome of decisions they made before they made them. They were humans--of a sort--with another power, another layer, to their minds that allowed them to see what most humans could not--all things were connected.

Time, energy, life, and even death all flowed on the same strings of current, like a sound wave or an electrical wire, and they had been used or manipulated by his people since the dawn of time to keep things in order. This had been their sacred duty since creation, and it was the obligation they would all be forfeiting with their deaths in no short amount of time.

Without them, it was likely there would be chaos. Humanity would fall in this dimension. Chaos. Enslavement. Famine. Death. Evil would finally win its battle to control all things. Good would stand no chance of prevailing because they wouldn't see the 'bad guys' coming until it was too late to stop them.

His people had forgotten they were not Gods. He was to blame for this, as he was to blame for so many other mistakes over his short reign. If there was a way to fix things, he would gladly do whatever it took to complete the task. But alas, the chanting had stopped for him, and he knew he was out of the precious currency known as time.

Even transporting backwards into the past seemed to be out of the question. It was as if a wall had been erected to keep his kind from reaching back to that moment when all things had gone awry.

He should have been paying better attention.

Clenching his fists at his side, Abraxas stomped across the grass from his small cottage home towards the top of Windfelt Hill. What would the local population think when the barriers fell and they suddenly realized they had been living side by side with unknown people for generations?

The wind blew, pushing his blond hair into his face and since he couldn't see, it made it exceptionally hard to proceed to his destination.

It was absolutely essential he get up the hill before the sun went down and he was plunged into darkness. He needed to place his ritual staff upon the hill and call to the heavens for help. That is if they hadn't abandoned him and could still hear his pleas for his people. Was anyone up there still listening to the Outsiders or was it too late?

The grass chomped below his feet. It was still winter, and spring hadn't made its first pushes to thaw out his part of the world. Ice sat atop the grass, changing its color from its natural green to a more transparent blue. It crunched below his well-worn boots. Niki had started mending them, begging him to actually acquire a new pair, before she had taken off with their daughter to hide with the others.

Perhaps he should have stopped her, but it had seemed futile. Let them go. Let them all go and see if we can hide the children was what he had ultimately decided.

Finally reaching his destination, Abraxas stopped to look around him. He had known the top of this hill intimately since he was a child.

Windfelt Hill was the outer ring of their boundary. To cross over the top of the barrier and over to the other side was to cross into the land of humanity. No amount of power, his or anyone else's, could shield his people for very long from the humans if they crossed this hill, which was why in the past only a select few were chosen to make the trek.

Last month, all of his people, with the exception of him, had opted to cross. His job wasn't done. He didn't have the luxury of leaving. Not until he had exhausted every option. If the Darkness knew where they were, then it was time to be somewhere else. They had decided their strength no longer held in numbers but in small hidden groups that were far from each other, far from the hills and woods that had hidden them and nourished them. It was their last desperate attempt to keep this annihilation of their people at bay and it made him crazier than he cared to dwell on that the whole of their society had opted to run away than stay and fight. Why was he the only one who could see it was better to stay and fight than turn and run?

He wondered how they were all faring out there in the world and once again he felt the pull to Niki and the unrelenting desire to throw away all of his responsibilities and join her in her hiding place. So maybe he wasn't that different from the others when it came down to it. He wanted the family life too. Their daughter was a month older and she aged without him there to watch her do it. A lump formed in his throat and he swallowed it away. He had thought they would never have children. They should have been too old. One lone tear slipped from his left eye and he brushed it away. She was growing up without him and it truly made his insides burn.


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ELEMENTAL CHALLENGES by Robin Leigh Miller

ELEMENTAL CHALLENGES by Robin Leigh Miller
Paperback includes books 1 & 2 of series

Eternal Flame
Book #1

Beach Snyder carries a torch of desire for Flanna Proctor that burns hotter than the desert sun he's returned home from. Her fiery temper amuses him as much as her body makes him ache. The blazing inferno packed inside her petite, sexy frame however, could be more than he can handle.

Flanna has a secret, one that's put a hunter on her tail. It's going to take more than the blaze burning within to save her. It's going to take actual flames to keep her alive. This Independence Day, Flanna will know the true meaning of freedom as she and Beach create their own fireworks spectacular that will burn brighter and hotter than any nightly display ever witnessed.

Earths Demon
Book #2

The earth shivers beneath Avani Proctor's feet. Her beloved trees and plants are sick and frightened. Desperate to find the cause she does the only thing she can do, transform into her elemental state. Unaware of prying eyes, she exposes herself and her gift to one man who can give her the power to fight the evil plaguing the earth and fulfill her heart.

Charles West can't believe his eyes when he witness's the lovely Avani shift from a gorgeous tall woman into an erotic, shapely tree. She takes Halloween seriously and her destiny. To bad Chuck doesn't believe in that mumbo jumbo. Of course, he didn't believe in gnarled little demons either until he saw one. Now, anything's possible, even a life with a woman who stole his heart at ten years old.

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Excerpt:

Beacher leaned his six foot plus frame against a tall oak tree in the shadows and drank in the commotion happening around the huge bonfire at the edge of the lake. He'd been coming here for years to partake in the good times leading up to the annual July fourth celebration, drinking until he couldn't remember the festivities the next morning. Tonight, he listened and watched as shapely bodies gyrated around the tall flames to a variety of music.

Since returning home from Afghanistan, Beach found he couldn't socialize as he used to and that seriously pissed him off. In the past he'd work like a dog all week from sun up to sun down knowing the weekend would offer good friends, good beer, plenty of fun and maybe even a warm body to keep him company during the night. Now he could barely tolerate being around people at all.

Reaching up he rubbed the scar running along his forehead and down the left side of his face. The scar itself didn't bother him, or how he got it, not really. He could have done without the blast that tore and seared his flesh, but he lived and so he didn't complain about the leftover reminders, at least the physical ones anyway.

The mental crap he could do without. Not dreams or post traumatic stress syndrome or anything like that for him. No, the jar to his brain apparently rewired or jolted lose some sort of hidden, buried, unknown, fuck, he didn't know for sure, talent. That's what the shrink called it anyway. Now, when he got too close to people he got a weird buzzing noise in his head and picked up on their feelings. Not just knew what they were experiencing, but actually felt their emotions as his own, and that sucked big time.

Stick him in the middle of a group and he'd get so dizzy from the onslaught of emotion his stomach would cramp. One second he'd want to pound his fist into a stranger's face and the next he'd want to cry over a stupid comment made to insult another. His moods swung so fast he made a woman suffering with PMS seem rational.

So, instead of joining the fun, drinking a beer and dancing around the fire like he wanted to, he could only observe. Right now he observed the sexy Flanna Proctor with her wild red hair and quick temper trying to push off the attentions of some rich playboy who apparently decided she would be his for the night. Dumb ass preppy apparently didn't know her very well or he'd have stepped off by now.

Flanna, or Lanna as she preferred to go by, didn't take shit off anyone. Beach smiled fondly as he remembered the first time he'd seen her, in kindergarten, Mrs. Foust's class. The very first day of school a little boy decided he wanted the ball she'd picked out to play with. After about one minute of arguing, Lanna glanced around the room to make sure the teacher wouldn't see and kicked the kid's feet out from under him with one swift swing of her leg. As the child lay on his back looking stunned, Lanna snatched the ball out of his hands, gave a sassy flip of her long red hair and proceeded to play.

Yep, Beach fell in love with her that day. She didn't whine or tell the teacher, Lanna handled the problem on her own and that ended that. So went the rest of her school years. Kids either loved or hated her. Get on her bad side and she'd give you a real reason to hate her. Stand on her good side and she'd walk through the fires of hell for you. Beach admired the hell out that kind of woman.

Her qualities were stellar but her looks were sinful enough to make even the devil sigh. Standing at barely five foot tall she was packaged perfectly with pert breasts that would fill a man's hand nicely and an ass that could bring that same man to his knees just watching it sway as she sashayed away. Fiery red hair cascaded down to the middle of her back. Even now Beach's hands itched to sink his fingers into her silky locks. And when she looked at you, God have mercy, her bright green eyes sparkled like jewels loaded with playful mischief that could get a man locked up for life bending to her whim.

Even her pink bubble gum lips were mesmerizing the way they formed a pretty bow on the perfect present. But, what he really found sexy, what made his cock twitch to life even as he stood in the shadows, was the tattoo peeking out above the waist band of her low rise shorts on her left hip. The head of a phoenix shrieked with its beak open and high on the inside of her tender thigh were its flaming tail feathers. Beach wanted desperately to see exactly where the rest of the tail wound.

"Hey, Snyder," one of his old buddies shouted. "Go talk to her instead of lurking in the dark like a spy."

"She's busy," he retorted taking a swig from his long neck beer bottle.

"She won't be for long. I give that stupid fuck another five minutes, tops, before he finds himself on his back staring at the stars wondering what the hell happened."

Beach squinted against the glare of the fire. Lanna had her finger in the preppys face chewing him a new ass. Normally, Beach would be laughing, amused by her anger but, something didn't seem right about the guy. Not sure what was icing his nerves, Beach kept a close watch.

Calling on his old habits of surveying the surrounding area for danger, Beach quickly fingered preppy's buddies. Two had their heads together and were dropping something into a plastic cup. Fuck, drugs. Beach hated drugs. When they handed preppy the cup and he offered it to Lanna, raw, mean anger flared to life in the pit of his gut. Beach jerked away from the tree and ignoring the ambush of emotions he'd be hit with, headed toward Lanna.

When she took the cup and promptly dumped it on preppies head, Beach halted his movement and waited. "Good girl," he mumbled to himself. Never accept a drink from someone you don't know. He'd heard his father preach that to his sister for years.

Lanna stormed off through the crowd and disappeared. Torn between following her and making sure preppy didn't follow her, Beach fisted his hands and planted his feet to the ground. She wouldn't go far. He'd be able to catch up with her. Preppy on the other hand, he didn't trust. As long as he had the man in sight, Lanna would be safe.

Preppy and his buddies huddled together, no doubt scoping out another victim. Taking a deep breath, Beach strolled to his buddy and thanked God the emotions pounding at him were good.

"Hey, put the word out," Beach told his old friend. "That son-of-a-bitch just tried to drug Lanna's drink. She didn't fall for it so I suspect he'll be looking for another willing victim. Tell the girls."

After a string of foul curses his friend nodded and began spreading the information.

High-tailing it out of the area, Beach cut through the woods and toward the parking area, his long legs eating up the ground in no time flat. As he neared the clearing where everyone parked he heard the distinct sound of glass breaking and metal crunching.

Keeping in the dark shadows of the trees, he followed the sound and came to a surprised halt. There, in the darkness yet illuminated by the full moon, Lanna held a tree branch and swung it like a pro at a brand-spanking-new silver Lexus. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who the car belonged to.

Beach leaned up against a tree and quietly watched her turn the once pristine car into a mangled piece of garbage.

"You think you can manhandle me," Lanna bitched as she smashed the taillight out. "You think you can tell me what I'm going to do for you?" Smash, the back window bit the dust. "I'll show you what I can do for you." Lifting the large, heavy branch over her head, Lanna crashed it down on the trunk lid.

Beach winced. Damn but that woman had some power in her little arms. The trunk lid caved like a piece of tin foil. Maybe they didn't make cars as well as they used to. Lanna demolished every square inch of the car. Even the side mirrors were hanging like limp, wilted leaves on a dead plant.

When she reached into her pocket and pulled out a knife Beach cocked an eyebrow and whistled as she stabbed the front tire. Lanna jerked around holding the tree branch out for protection. Beach stepped out of the shadows and clapped.

"Nice work," he said smiling.

"Beach," she sighed as her shoulders sagged and the branch dropped out of her hand. "What the hell are you doing sneaking up on people?"

"Watching the show. Mind telling me what warranted this sort of effort?" As if he didn't know, but the chance to see her fly into a rage amused him.

Lanna straightened her shoulders and looked down her pixie nose. "Just a little payback."

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ELORA'S MATCH by Liia Ann White

ELORA'S MATCH - The Different Saga Book One by Liia Ann White

Elora's parents mysteriously disappeared when she was fifteen. She vowed to find answers – discover what really happened to them. But after twenty-five years of travelling the world she has come up empty handed. Feeling tired and lonely, she settles down in the city her best friend, Caleb, calls home. To lead a regular human existence for a while...like he does.

One problem...they're not human. They're Different – a rare supernatural race known for their beauty, strength and supernatural abilities.

Elora is lead to a man by a series of visions. Cue Kadin - powerful, sexy and also Different. He is her match - her soul-mate. Her life has never felt so complete.

But it's not all good news. Elora must now deal with a rogue demon Elder hell-bent on taking over Lucifer's reign over Hell. To succeed she needs to steal Elora's power. When she's facing the fight of her life, can Elora really trust Kadin?

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Excerpt

The scent of moist woods came strong through my nose as I watched the tall trees pass by in a blur. Early morning mist covered the roads, rays of sunshine shimmering through the tree leaves as the car bumped down the vaguely familiar road. My heart fluttered with anticipation as the vehicle made a sharp turn, heading closer toward our destination.

Suddenly, a soft touch came upon my knee. I turned my head and looked at Caleb. His perfect face skewed into a small frown, lips pursed, dark brown eyes filled with concern.

“You ok?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I lied, forcing a smile.

After twenty-five years of travelling the world, staying put made me feel uneasy. I did this for Caleb. Best friends since childhood, we were inseparable, until I decided to leave home to find answers in my parents’ disappearance. Not easily forgotten was the memory of the event that changed my life.

Caleb and I entered the house after a day at school, as we usually would, except that day, the stench of sulphur was so strong it caused us to choke. We found a rogue demon in the back living room, his body sizzling on the ground. Caleb interrogated him while I stayed completely frozen with fear. My parents disappeared after their attack.

Forty years later, still nobody knew why. Least of all me.

Caleb and I were Different; a supernatural race known collectively as The Difference; a plain term coined centuries ago that stuck. Most humans would call us mutants or witches, due to our abilities, but that was just a reflection of their ignorance.

Our species appeared human enough, but we all have the common traits of astounding physical beauty, incredible strength, and heightened senses. Some of us are physic, some telepathic, and some able to manipulate the elements. But we all have the power of persuasion, a form of mind compulsion, making it very easy to control a human’s mind.

My powers have always exceeded my peers, and more than once, I received warnings they could attract unwanted attention. Not only can I manipulate all the elements, I have the gift of psycho kinesis, the ability to fly, to heal, and unpredictable precognition.

Being Different has always been a touchy subject with Caleb. While I love my abilities and use them to my full advantage, he always wants to be a regular human. To age and live like ‘normal’ people do. However, since five human years are equal one Different year, it is an impossible want.

Not that he doesn’t try. Soon after I left home, Caleb moved to the United States, where nobody knew him, so he could start leading a more human lifestyle. I had always compared it to a vampire surviving on animal or synthetic blood; I just don’t see the point of it. If you have a gift, you should use it to your advantage, not let it fade away.

Caleb manoeuvred the car down the small paved road leading to a large wrought iron gate at the end of the driveway. It opened to a long, curved driveway as we approached. The car inched through the gate to perfect manicured gardens, and the house appeared, looking just as I remembered.

Large and statuesque.

The ancient white stone contrasted with black wrought iron window frames and porch balustrades. Vines grew around the lower half of the three-story home, leaving the stone all but gone.

Caleb stopped the car by the porch stairs, cut the engine, and turned to me with a smile. “Home sweet home.”

There was nothing sweet about it. A wave of nausea came over me as I realized I had never been to this house without my parents. Facing the emptiness of this home left me feeling winded. When I reached the front door, they wouldn’t be there to greet me, and nothing about that resembled the home where I once lived.

Caleb beat me to the car’s trunk, removing my three large suitcases. Then, swiftly, he ran up the porch stairs, taking two at a time.

As I followed behind him, I ran my hand along the thick balustrade, trying to ignore my increasing heart race. A lump formed in the back of my throat along with the burning of tears in my eyes that I refused to let free. I would not break down. I would stay strong -- for Caleb.

He flashed me a reassuring smile before opening the thick wooden door. There was no sound, no creaking, and no aching old frames. The house was in perfect condition despite its standing since the 1400s.

Entering the house, I recognized the scent of rose, timber, and lemon. The house hadn’t changed one bit in the years I’d be gone. My footsteps echoed throughout the empty house. A thick layer of dust covered every piece of furniture. Nobody had been here for decades.

My gaze ran over the couch where I used to cuddle with my parents on cold nights while they read me bedtime stories.

This house was the first home my parents built together. Before I was born, they moved to Australia, wanting to raise me somewhere safer, more sheltered from the supernatural world.

Their apparent death created an empty void in my life. I miss the little things the most; the way they always called me ‘princess’, the way they ran their hands over my hair to soothe me, how we’d curl up on the couch in silence while watching a movie together, and waking every morning to find my breakfast waiting for me in the kitchen, already made.

I would never argue with them again. Never tell them another joke. Never have them ask how my day was. I’d never see their smiling faces again. These past years, I’d been so hell bent on finding the person responsible for their disappearance I hadn’t let myself mourn their loss. Anger is a much easier emotion for me to feel than sadness.

Caleb slipped his arm over my shoulder, pulling me into a sideways hug. “Memories, hey?” He smiled at me.

“Indeed.” I let out a sigh and walked toward the suitcases Caleb left by the front door. “Thanks for picking me up, Cal.”

“What kind of a friend would I be if I didn’t?”

“A normal one,” I admitted.

“You may have abandoned me, but I’d still do anything for you.”

He mean it as a joke, but I had abandoned him. When I left home, I didn’t think of anyone else, only my agenda. Never once did I think about the effect it would have on my remaining family.

Caleb wrapped his arm around me again. “You know what you need?”

“What’s that?”

“A night out with friends.”

“Friends?” I repeated.

“Layke and I.” Great, the girlfriend; I fought against the urge to roll my eyes. “It’s my mate’s birthday, and he’s having a party at a local club. It’s VIP and everything.” He grinned, reminding me of his teenage self.

“Don’t get too excited, Cal.” I laughed at his enthusiasm.

He released his arm and gave me a shove. “Go get ready. I’ll pick you up in couple hours.” He headed for the door, turning around as his hand wrapped around the knob, “Elora?”

“Yeah?”

“You’ll be ok you know.”

He sounded so positive I wanted to believe him, but I wasn’t sure I would be ok. “I know.” I smiled before he left, turning to take in my new home. “Welcome home,” I muttered to myself quietly.

As the front door closed, I headed down the long hallway leading upstairs to my bedroom. The sound of the suitcases dragging on the wooden floor echoed throughout the hall as I went past the large formal dining. A heavy oak table sat in the centre of the room, thirteen cream and gold chairs with wooden frames positioned around it. I stepped up the long wooden staircase, several photographs of my parents and I hung on the wall.

The upper floor consisted of five bedrooms and three bathrooms. Mine was at the very end of the hall; a large, triple sized bedroom with French doors leading to a balcony. The bedroom remained exactly the same as I remembered. A large canopied bed sat in the centre of the carpeted room, decorated with a deep blue comforter and pillows. I sat down on the bed, opening the suitcases and began unpacking.

First, I took out a wooden box of keepsakes. My fingertips ran over the tiny roses engraved on the surface, emeralds in the centre of each flower. After opening it, a photograph of my parents and I lay before me, a photo taken when I was fourteen, just a few weeks before their disappearance. My mother stood on my left, her long blonde hair framing her goddess-like face, deep brown eyes crinkling as she smiled. On my right was my father, a very tall, muscular man with light brown hair and blue eyes.

Then there was me, in the middle. Sometimes I doubted they were my biological parents. With raven hair and violet eyes that change colour with my moods, I looked nothing like either of them. I am 5’7” with a long, curvaceous body and very defined muscles and facial features, whereas my parents were very long and lean.

The photo taken so long ago, but I remember it so clearly it could have been yesterday. The trouble with having an eidetic memory is that you can’t forget a thing. All memories, good and bad, stay with you forever.

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TEMPEST'S GIFT by Robin Leigh Miller

TEMPEST'S GIFT - Book three in The Elemental Challenges Series by Robin Leigh Miller.

Christmas should have been an easy, relaxing holiday for Brian Burk. A time to spend with good friends and put his plan to seduce the hot tempered, sexy Tempest Proctor into action.

Sometimes Mother Nature pokes a sharp stick into plans and deflates them. Brian has had his hands full trying to keep roads clear and repair damaged buildings due to the strange weather pattern that settled itself over the county. Strong winds have been wreaking havoc, and Brian suspects Tempest Proctor knows something about it.

Being the guardian of the winds, she should be able to rescue the town. Except he finds her standing in the middle of a dark road with no coat and half frozen muttering to the blustering skies. Brian plops her into his truck and hauls her sexy ass to his home wanting answers and she isn't going anywhere until he gets what he wants.

Tempest Proctor lost control of her element. Her beloved winds won't respond and they're throwing the mother of all temper tantrums. On top of that strange things are happening to her. Steamy, erotic dreams plague her every night. That alone wouldn't really bother her, but the dreams feature the one and only Brian Burk. The one man she’s ever held any interest in. Add to that the painful tearing sensation inside her body from her elements power, and she can't think straight.

When Brian finds her standing in the middle of the storm and takes her to his home, her strange life spirals out of control. Her element has decided she and Brian shall come together. Tempest on the other hand isn't going to be forced into a relationship. Encasing them in a virtual snow globe and refusing to allow them to leave until they bond, Tempest is forced to face her feelings for Brian and her fear of passing along her gift. She soon discovers some gifts are meant to be shared and the sharing turns out to be the best part.

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Excerpt:

Brian Burk rubbed his bleary eyes as he drove through the near whiteout the county had been mired in for the last two weeks. Blustering winds had plagued the town, encasing it in blizzard-like conditions. The light snow falls called for in weather reports turned into full blown storms that had people holed up in their homes. Meteorologists didn't have any explanations for it.

He and his men had spent the last four days plowing roads, removing fallen trees, and simply trying to keep passages open for emergency vehicles. Having the biggest construction company and the equipment to handle the snow meant they were on call for every disaster that came along. Not that he minded, in fact he loved it most of the time. But four days of freezing his ass off and twelve hours of sleep did not make for a happy Brian. His crew kept tossing out subtle hints for him to take some time off. That alone spoke of his edgy, nasty temperament.

A hard gust of wind slammed his large plow truck, rocking it like a plastic toy. Gripping the wheel he eased off the throttle. It could be him and his sluggish brain, but it sure seemed like every passing day got worse. Prying his hand from the steering wheel he rubbed his jaw. He had a pretty good idea where all this destructive weather originated from. One long-legged sexy as hell woman who kept him awake at night.

Tempest Proctor. The guardian of the winds. She thought he didn't have a clue about who or what she was. Little did she know. Some research in the right area, a little digging into history, and then add it all up and you had the elemental guardians.

Okay, he'd admit he didn't have a clue when his buddy Beach hooked up with Tempest's sister, Flanna, guardian of fire. Only when his friend Chuck latched onto Avani, another Proctor sister, who protected the earth, did he begin to put all the pieces together. They always thought of him as fun loving, good time Brian. No one knew of his love of solving mysteries, and the Proctors were a mystery.

Now, he had a new mystery. If Tempest controlled the wind, why the hell would she allow it to devastate their town, their county, like this? It didn't make sense. Brian ran several scenarios through his mind as he watched the white wall of snow in front of him. He had another eight miles before he reached town and at the slow crawl he had to drive, it would take forever.

Okay, so he didn't completely understand the mechanics of how this guardian business worked; some things couldn't be found on the internet, believe it or not. But, if Tempest was supposed to command the wind why hadn't she commanded it to take a fucking break? Unless, and he really didn't want to believe this, Tempest was causing the storm.

Brian grunted, Tempest may be stubborn and suffer from a quick temper but she would never cause harm to anyone and this hellacious storm had been whipping up harm by the butt load.

Then again? Brian frowned as he thought back to the last few run ins he had with her. She seemed jittery, off kilter, and just plain out of sorts. Her multicolored eyes always seemed distant. She couldn't keep still, always moving even when she sat. Even his witty jabs at her didn't seem to affect her anymore. And that bothered him more than anything because if Tempest Proctor wasn't flinging a witty come back, then something definitely had to be wrong.

Oh, how he loved to torment her with zingers. He learned as a kid it was the only way to get her attention. Granted it wasn't the typical sweet flirting like the rest of the girls her age but, hell, he'd take it. Besides, there always seemed to be a glint in her eye and a genuine smile on her full pink lips for him.

Yeah, he'd wanted her attention. Her long legs, tiny, tight ass and flowing locks of blonde, red, brown, and black hair rioting around her pretty face caught his eye at the age of sixteen. Fourteen years he admired the woman's body but, as time passed, he also began to admire her other qualities. Quick temper aside, she was devoted to her friends and family, loved volunteering in the community, and if she caught the slightest whiff of someone in need, she was there.

He caught her delivering bags of groceries to a local family late one night, setting them on the porch before ringing the doorbell and disappearing. The father had been laid off, the mother was ill, and they were riding out some tough times. Apparently Tempest found out through the grape vine and anonymously supplied them with a month's worth of food. When he questioned her about it she filled him in on their plight and he couldn't help but be moved by her generosity. Naturally, he had to do one better and gave the man a job in his construction company; the guy had turned out to be one of his best employees.

Tempest groused about him having to outdo everyone, but then she smiled and said, "Maybe you aren't the biggest dumbass after all."

He would have jabbed back, should have, but who could think when the most beautiful woman on the planet smiled at you? He was only human after all. Another gust of wind jostled the truck, dragging him back to the here and now.

A movement caught his eye through the thick curtain of snow. He leaned forward, squinted and saw something move again. Before he could process what he'd seen he'd driven up on and damn near hit a person standing in the middle of the fucking road. Brian slammed on the brakes, praying the tires didn't skid. The large truck jolted to a stop, his head bounced off the steering wheel, and his seat belt cut into his shoulder.

Blinking a few times to clear his vision, he saw her. There, in the middle of the road, caught in his headlights wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, thigh high boots and a sweater stood Tempest with her arms outstretched her face pointed to the sky and her hair whipping in the wind. Raw fury and fear flashed through his system. He could have killed her. He could have run her over and never known it.

Bailing from the truck he slammed the door closed and stomped through the wind and snow. That woman needed a good spanking. Where in her mind was it a good idea to be standing in the road in the middle of a blinding fucking storm? She needed some common sense spanked into her and he would be the man to do it.

"Are you trying to kill yourself?" he snapped as he approached.

Tempest didn't move, simply stood there like she'd been stretched out on an invisible cross. The blank look on her pale face made his blood crystallize in his veins. Even her eyes seemed empty.

"Tempest!" he shouted over the howling wind. Still, she didn't move or even blink. Hypothermia. The word rang loud and clear in his head. Grabbing her waist he shook her hard twice. "Tempest!"

"I can't stop it," she shouted over the roaring storm. "I can't stop it."

"Fuck." Ice already coated her face and hung from her eyelashes. Her body felt stiff as a board. Scooping her up in his arms he headed back to the truck. Tempest huddled into him, her arms looping around his neck. He could hear her muttering but couldn't make out the words.

"What's the matter, an icy heart isn't enough for you? You gotta go for the whole package?" he grumbled releasing her upper body and reaching for the door handle. She clung to him like a life line as he lifted her trembling body up onto the seat. "You have to let go," he told her gently trying to scoot her over so he could get behind the wheel. Tugging, he lowered her arms from his neck and pushed her over.

Safely inside the cab of the truck, he removed his coat and laid it over her and then cranked the heat and aimed the vents directly at her frozen body. She continued mumbling incoherent words. Inside the truck he could see an empty, terrified glaze in her eyes.

"What were you doing out there, Tempest," he asked putting the truck in gear and pulling away. "Where's your coat?"

"I don't know."

Her voice sounded so small and weak it made his heart clench. "I'm taking you back to my place." Once he got her warm he'd press for answers.

To his amazement the wind seemed to die down, giving him a clear road ahead. Brian wasted no time speeding into town. As he maneuvered the streets the colored Christmas lights strung on houses reflected on the windshield, glittering as if all was right with the world. Next to him, his world sat shivering so violently he feared she'd shake apart.

He curled his arm around her and she buried her face in his side. "Any more stunts like that and you'll have earned the title Ice Queen," he grumbled still shaking from the thought of nearly hitting her with his truck.

"I can't stop it," she repeated. Her words slurred together as if she'd been drinking. Hell, maybe she had been. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"We'll figure it out, babe." He didn't like seeing or hearing her like this. It wasn't right.

Brian parked the truck in front of his small rented house, ran to the door and unlocked it before returning for Tempest. It seemed the wind had eased to a manageable level since he'd found her. Coincidence? Right now he didn't have time to think about it.

Tucking his large coat around her, he lifted her limp body from the truck and ran for the house. Once inside he carefully set her on his couch, piled several blankets on her and then headed for the bathroom where he ran a warm bath. When he returned to the living room he found her shaking so hard her teeth were clicking together.

"We'll get you warmed up soon," he told her as he tugged her boots from her feet. She didn't have any socks on and her toes felt like perfectly manicured ice cubes. "We need to get your clothes off. Can you do it or do I have to?"

"I don't understand," she muttered. "This has never happened before."

Okay, he'd have to do it. Her jeans were soaked and clung to her skin as he tugged them down her thighs. Her flesh blazed bright red from the freezing temperatures. Opting to leave her panties on, he removed the blankets and began working her soaked sweater up her body.

Tempest sat up, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears in the dim light of the room. "Brian," she spoke with surprise in her voice.

"It's me, babe. I'm right here." Damn he didn't like seeing her this way. It scared the living hell out of him.

"I have to talk to my sisters," she insisted sinking her fingers into his arms. "I have to tell them I tried to stop it."

"We'll call them later. Right now, you need to get warm. Help me out here, Tempest." He lifted her arms and she held them there as he tugged the wet material up over her breasts and head. He had a brief brain lapse as the sight of her perfect round breasts cupped in black lace filled his vision.

Swallowing hard, he reminded himself now wasn't the time to get lost in her beauty. Yeah, it would be good to leave her bra on. The material was soaked anyway. What would it hurt?

Again, he lifted her into his arms and felt a chill run through his veins from her cold flesh. Even as cold as she was, he couldn't stop his body's response to her pressed so tightly against him, just where he'd always wanted her.

"So cold," she whimpered burying her face in his neck.

"I'll warm you up." He lowered her into the tub, soaking his shirt sleeves as he did. Tempest gave a small gasp as the lukewarm water hit her skin. "We'll add more warm water in a few minutes," he told her as she sank down into the tub. "I don't want to burn your skin."

Her jaw clenched, her muscles quivered beneath her flesh, and in the stark bright light of the bathroom he saw her lips were a dark blue. Sinking down onto his knees, he sat beside her and used a wash cloth to dab warm water onto her face. Tempest stared ahead blindly.

"How'd you lose control of the wind?" he asked not really expecting an answer.

"I don't know," she whispered. "It simply won't respond."

"Did you cause this storm, Tempest?" He had to ask. He had to know what they were dealing with.

She bolted upright. Water splashed all over him and the floor. "No!" she shouted shaking her head. "I didn't do it." Turning toward him their eyes met and he could see the fear, the need to be believed staring back at him. "I swear I didn't do it."

His heart fluttered inside his chest and his gut clenched. Cupping her face in his hands he smoothed the pad of his thumb over her blue lips. "I believe you."

"You do?"

The torment in her voice shredded his heart. "Yeah. I'm used to your brutal honesty."

She blinked several times, her multicolored eyes filling with tears. God, he loved her eyes. Flecks of green, brown, blue, gray, every shade imaginable was there. The storm of color reflected her colorful personality. She had to be the most unique woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

"You ask for it," she whispered, slowly sinking back into the water and continuing to stare at the wall.

Minutes passed without a word passing between them. Brian continued to warm the water and Tempest's violent shivering eased. When he felt sure she'd be okay, he decided maybe something warm in her body would help.

"I'm going to make you some soup. I'll see if I can find some dry clothes, too."

"Okay." She didn't look at him as she wrapped her arms around herself and rested her head against the wall.

Before heading to the kitchen, Brian stopped in his room and removed his wet clothing and pulled on a pair of sweat pants. After rummaging through his drawers he found a sweatshirt and an old pair of sweat pants he knew would too big for her, but they'd do. When he stepped back into the bathroom she hadn't moved a muscle.

"Tempest?"

"Something's wrong with me, Brian," she said, the sound of her voice so tortured it made his soul flinch.

She had to be the strongest woman he'd ever met in his life. Tempest Proctor didn't back down in a fight and laughed in the face of danger, and now here she sat balled up in his tub like a frightened child. He didn't like it, not one damn bit.

"Do I need to take you to the hospital?"

She shook her head. "They can't fix this."

So, it had something to do with her gift. Well then, they'd have to figure it out together and fix it.

"We'll figure it out." It's all he could say for the moment. He doubted she'd listen to anything he had to say anyway. "I'll go make you something warm to eat."

Padding to the kitchen in his bare feet, he pulled out a container of homemade chicken noodle soup, dumped it in a pot and turned on the flame. Watching the fire burn he realized he may not be able to help her the way she needed. Her sisters would though.

Grabbing his cell phone he hit speed dial for his friend Beach and then cursed when nothing happened. The screen showed no signal. Tossing it aside he picked up his land line. Nothing. No phones at all. Peering out the window he debated jumping in his truck and driving over there. Beach and Flanna lived the closest, only a few blocks away. The other two sisters lived outside of town in fairly secluded areas on a large piece of property. As he studied the night landscape he saw something odd.

They sat in the middle of a complete and total white out. If he didn't know any better he'd swear someone painted his windows except every once in a while a break opened up and he could see the calmness beyond his yard. Watching carefully, he realized the storm centered directly over his house.

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