Wednesday, October 12, 2011

BIND ME by Stacey Kennedy

BIND ME by Stacey Kennedy

Pact of Seduction Book One

Four best friends embrace their fantasies and make a pact of seduction to live out their deepest and darkest desires. The women place their lives in the hands of fate and one short straw declares Marley will be the first to awaken her secret wishes.

Reed, a Dom at sex club Castle Dolce Vita, has lived the BDSM lifestyle for awhile, but has yet to find a submissive that suits him. That is until he meets Marley, a woman seeking to indulge her fantasies.

As Reed guides her through a night of pleasure, Marley brings more to him than a perfect submissive - she stirs emotions in him long ago lost. By binding Marley, he runs up against his own limits, and now he has to choose between his self-protective barriers or surrendering to the wildfire Marley has reignited in his heart.

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~Excerpt~

Aching feet, too many martinis, and dancing the night away at a club located in the heart of Baltimore led Marley to this moment—her twenty-fifth birthday celebration, to be exact. She plopped down on one of the pillows along the floor, surrounded by her three best friends. The two-story colonial-style house located in the quiet eastern neighborhood of the city had been home to all of them since college.

“Okay, girls, I have an idea,” Bella said.

Sadie’s large breasts—thanks to Dr. Lee—bounced as she squirmed on her pillow. “Oh…do tell.”

“I can hardly wait to hear what you’ve come up with now.” Kyra snorted, flipping her black silky hair over her shoulder.

As usual, Marley didn’t know what Bella was up to. She always attempted to make their lives interesting. “Okay, spill it. What trouble have you planned for us now?”

“Well.” Bella’s crystal blue eyes sparkled with wicked intentions. “Life has been boring lately, right?”

“Mm hm,” Marley responded. That was an understatement. Not saying her job at the elementary school didn’t fulfill her. Heck, she’d worked hard to get the full-time position as a sixth-grade teacher. Yet her life held no spunk. Same routine. Normal hours. Nothing ever changed.

Sure, Marley had had a few boyfriends, but none of them made her feel anything but friendship, and she grew tired of searching for Mr. Right when they all ended up being Mr. Wrong. She’d given up dating altogether a year ago.

“Let’s make a pact of seduction,” Bella said.

Sadie spit out her wine, and it sprayed on Marley’s face. “Oh shit, Marls. I’m so sorry.”

Marley groaned as the warm liquid dripped off her nose. She wiped her face, annoyed, yes, but too stuck on what Bella had said to care. “What do you mean a pact of seduction?”

“Exactly what you think I mean. We each have to fulfill our hottest fantasy. You know, the one you’ve always wanted to do but never thought possible. You’ve got to make it far past what you think you are capable of, something only imaginable in your dreams.”

“You can’t be serious!” Kyra exclaimed.

Bella frowned. “Of course I’m serious. Come on, let’s ruffle things up a bit. We’re all single. Marls is twenty-five now, and the rest of us are all approaching our birthdays too. In a few years we’ll likely be married with kids. All settled down with a life more normal than the one we live now. Let’s do something crazy, fulfill our ultimate fantasy while we still have the chance.” She paused.

Marley blinked.

Bella continued. “Two rules: the first, no judging. We’re here to help each other find our fantasy, not laugh at it. The second, whoever commits cannot back out. Friends’ oath.”

Marley looked to Sadie, who shrugged, but her eyes showed undeniable interest. Kyra nibbled her bottom lip. What to do? Could Marley make such a pact? Their friends’ oath was solid and unyielding. The exact reason their friendship held so tight. They’d never broken a vow to each other, and Marley did have a fantasy.

She spent her days guiding youths to do right, and had always been the one in control—she wanted to give that all up. She wanted a man to show her how to behave properly, and punish her for her disobedience. A man who had a body she could drool over, maybe even smoldering eyes, and one who could lift her tall frame with little effort. Add sex into the equation and heat exploded into every molecule of her body.

Before she agreed to anything, Marley needed to see if this had been just another thought passing through Bella’s busy mind or if she meant what she said. “Exactly how do we decide who goes first?”

“We draw straws.” Bella grinned.

“Draw straws to get it on.” Kyra laughed.

“Yes, exactly,” Bella retorted. “Tell me you’re not a little interested. We’d never fulfill our fantasy alone, or be brave enough to do it. So let’s make a pact. I don’t know about you all, but I’m bored as hell. I need something to spice up my life. Don’t you?”

Marley considered this. If she made the pact with her best friends, there would be no escape. Did she have the strength to make good on her word? She glanced around to her friends, and excitement showed on their faces, even Kyra’s. Marley would let her hesitations go too.

This was her chance to do something she’d never do if not forced. Maybe this could be a turning point for her. A way to break this boring cloud that had settled over her life, and maybe she could meet a man who could stir something more than friendship-level feelings. She drained the rest of her chardonnay, wiped her mouth, and smiled. “I’m in. What do we do next?”

Bella took a pad of paper and a pen off the end table and handed each of the women a sticky note. “We write our fantasies down; then we’ll share them.” She lowered her head, and Marley did the same.

By the time it was Marley’s turn to read her fantasy, she had discovered Kyra wanted two men, Sadie wanted a firefighter, and Bella had an interest in being with a woman.

When all eyes focused on her, Marley cringed. She had a hard enough time thinking these thoughts, let alone voicing them. “I can’t read this to y’all.”

“Oh, it’s gotta be good.” Bella snatched up the paper and read the note. “Our Marley here wants to be dominated.”

“You do?” Sadie asked.

“Like bondage, sadomasochism, that type of stuff?” Kyra interjected before Marley could respond to Sadie.

“Well…” Marley suspected her cheeks burned red. “I’m not sure what I want because I don’t know much about BDSM, but I like the idea of being told what to do and having someone else in control of my pleasure.”

All heads nodded, and in unison they said, “Sexy.”

Bella jumped up, then ran into the kitchen. A moment later, she returned holding four straws. “The shortest straw goes first, and so on. Here, Kyra, you’re up.”

Kyra pulled one that could be the tallest, but at this point, it was only guessing.

Bella held the straws out for Marley. “You next, Marls.”

Marley took a straw and grumbled at the small size, barely measured up to her pinky finger. Okay, she’d agreed; however, she didn’t want to go first. She didn’t think her friends would bail out, and she didn’t plan to either, but she wanted to go somewhere in the middle. A comfortable place to be.

Sadie took her straw, measuring the size of her index finger. Then Bella raised hers. “Hold ’em up, ladies.”

Marley looked from straw to straw, then realized she’d picked the wrong damn straw. Bella was next, then Sadie, with Kyra picking the largest straw. Smiling faces looked at Marley, and she groaned. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes.” Bella beamed. “You’re up, buttercup.” She practically ran over to the computer desk, only to return with her laptop a moment later. “And I’ve got the perfect place in mind.”

“What place?” Marley scooted toward her as Bella clicked away on the keyboard. “And how long have you been planning this?”

“Oh, not long, just a week or so,” Bella replied. “When I did some research on fantasies, I discovered this place in Bowleys Quarters.”

On the small screen, a Web site with a castle decorating the background and big, black, bold letters on the top read, Castle Dolce Vita. “What is it?”

“A sex club.”

Kyra’s eyes went huge. “A what?”

“Don’t get your granny panties all in a bunch.” Bella shushed her with a flip of her hand. “They have forums where you can contact people who have similar interests as you do”—she wiggled her eyebrows—“sexually.”

“Ew.” Kyra groaned. “This sounds really dirty.”

Bella ignored her as she usually did when Kyra protested one of her plans. “I was reading here. The rules are: all participants must sign a waiver form to insure privacy will be kept while at the castle. No cameras allowed and no videotaping permitted. All participants must provide a clear STD and AIDS test and a background check to the members they’re involved with before they are allowed to engage in sexual acts. And lastly, when members are involved in club life, they’re not allowed to engage sexually with anyone outside of the castle.”

Bella stopped reading and glanced to Marley. “Sounds safe to me.”

Marley looked to Kyra, waiting for her to disagree, but she only shrugged. “It sounds safer than if you went to a bar and slept with some random guy.”

“Oh God.” Marley grumbled, dropping her head into her hands, realizing the inevitable had fallen upon her.

“Ha.” Sadie giggled. “Let’s just hope you’ll be saying that when you’re with the guy.”

The others laughed. Marley didn’t. She raised her head, full of apprehension. “Do I have to go first? Can’t one of you?”

Bella scowled. “Fate decided, and you’ve got to listen. Follow the rules, remember.”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember.”

Sadie squirmed closer to Bella to look at the computer screen. “So what do we do to become members of the castle?”

“The rules say it’s by invitation only,” Bella replied. “We have to join the forum, write a letter from Marley describing who she is and what she wants, then wait for someone to call to discuss the possibility of an encounter.”

Kyra snatched the laptop from Bella and settled it onto her lap. “Let me write the letter. We want to make you sound sexy but smart. We don’t need some lunatic responding to you.” She rubbed her hands together. “Now then, let’s make this good.”

* * *

Stone walls didn’t give the air of a warm room, nor did the cold cement on the floor, but it set the mood perfectly for the BDSM scene. Reed circled his submissive as she stood atop a wooden box in the center of the bare room.

Zoie was good and obedient. The nipple clamps pinched her areolae hard, just as Reed wanted. He tugged on one to induce a mild amount of pain, and Zoie whimpered, yet not in a way that made him hesitate—she sounded too desperate. Reed had enough confidence to know she needed more than he could give her.

Not every sub Reed played with could tolerate the pain Zoie managed. He enjoyed pushing her limits because she could take the overload. He added two weights to the chain that connected the nipple clamps. Zoie’s gaze burned with desire as she hissed.

“I think I’ll leave you waiting for a while.” Reed strode toward the other side of the room. He grabbed the plastic bottle off the metal tray containing the sex toys, and drank the lukewarm water as his gaze scanned the small space. The old American country estate, Castle Dolce Vita, catered not only to BDSM but to all desires.

By day he was a criminal lawyer, but on evenings and weekends, the BDSM floor had become his home since his lifestyle submissive, Samantha, left him two years ago. He’d loved; he’d lost. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

Just as he placed the bottle back on the tray, the door to the room opened. “You were looking for me.”

Reed glanced over his shoulder to find his good friend and roommate Kole drenched in sweat and running a hand through his blond hair to wipe off the perspiration. Kole punished harder than Reed. Reed used floggers and crops, among other toys, but he refused to make the sub bleed or leave bruises, while Kole delighted in granting such pleasures.

Kole took a quick glance at Zoie before he looked back to Reed with curiosity in his eyes. “What did you want?”

Reed understood his friend’s inquisitiveness—it wasn’t often he called Kole into a scene. “She’s outgrown me, and I think you’d be better suited to her.”

“Sounds interesting.” Kole all but purred. “Tell me about her.”

“She’s got a high tolerance for pain, and I can tell she needs, craves more, but you know it’s not my thing.”

“But it’s mine.” Kole grinned.

Reed held no jealousy, mainly because he’d never had the connection with Zoie to warrant it. If he needed to put his submissive with another dom to satisfy her, he would. No questions asked.

“Well, well. Let’s go have a look, shall we.” Kole stepped over to Zoie. Her breathing hitched when he ran his hand over her hip. He gave her ass a light slap, and Zoie squealed.

Reed settled near her, expected her to focus on him. When she didn’t, he issued a demand. “Zoie, look at me.” He grasped her jaw and squeezed firmly. “Tonight was our last night together.”

She shook her head. He tightened his grip, putting a stop to her disobedience. “Kole will take you on. You’re safe with him. I would not give you to just anyone.”

Zoie’s gaze flickered over to Kole, and excitement lit her eyes. Reed squeezed her jaw again, drawing her attention back to him. “You’ve been a good girl, and I’ve enjoyed my time with you. I offer you Kole as a reward for how much you’ve pleased me.” He kissed her cheek. “Be a good girl for Kole too.”

“I will, Sir,” Zoie responded.

Reed stepped away just as Kole slapped Zoie’s ass with another light hit. Her eyes closed, and she moaned. The reaction from her confirmed Reed had done the right thing. He grinned at Kole, and Kole smiled back.

He turned on his heels and proceeded to leave the room. As he opened the door, he heard Zoie’s screams echo against the stone walls. Kole laughed. “I’m going to enjoy you, sweet Zoie.”

The door closed behind Reed, and silence fell around him as he made his way toward the restaurant. He was satisfied he’d done right by Zoie. However, a thought stayed in his mind: what now, and more importantly…who?

He passed through the dining room in the castle, entered the restaurant, and emptiness greeted him. At this late hour, the only other person here was the barkeep. He took a seat on the stool in front of the black marble countertop where the laptop was located, and the bartender handed him his usual choice of beverage, a cold beer.

Reed took a long swig before he clicked the mouse on the laptop to venture into the BDSM forum. He scrolled down the messages and was not surprised at what he found. Woman looking for dom. Slave ready and willing.

Minutes drew on as he read through them, one by one, and nothing jumped out as an interest. Frustrated, he raised his beer to his mouth again, and as the liquid filled his throat, his gaze landed on something that spiked his curiosity.

The seduction pact! Indulge my fantasy!

He placed his beer back on the bar and clicked on the message. First he saw the words but didn’t pay the note any attention because the picture of the woman captured him and stirred his cock.

Her green eyes stood out against the dark, wavy curls of hair surrounding her face. He glanced over to her stats. Five-eight. His cock grew heavier. Reed stood at six-one. He was always looking down on women at an uncomfortable angle. If this woman had heels on, she’d be close to eye level with him, and the thought aroused him.

He scrolled back up to her message to see what the sexy woman had to say.

One woman needing a dom to fulfill her desires of BDSM. Limits unknown but will try new things to discover herself and satisfy the man who controls her.

Reed’s heart pounded. He wanted to be the one to introduce her to BDSM. His reaction surprised him.

He clicked the claimed button at the top of the screen to indicate she had been contacted by a dom and was now off limits. Then he reached into his pocket to grab his cell phone, and after he entered the last number, he placed the phone to his ear.

It rang twice, and then a string of curse words followed by shuffling filled his ear. Reed had expected to receive voice mail. He had not anticipated someone would answer at this late hour. “Hello?

More rustling sounded before a trembling voice answered, “Hello.”

In the background, Reed could hear a couple of women giggling, and he wondered if he had the right telephone number. “I’m looking to speak with Marley Adams. Is she around?”

“Um…er…” The woman cleared her throat. “This is her.”

“I’m Reed Matheson. I’ve seen your profile on the castle’s forum and am interested in arranging a night with you.”

He was met with silence and pulled the receiver away to look at the screen, curious if she had hung up, but the lit screen indicated she hadn’t. He returned the phone to his ear. “Are you still there?”

“Yes.”

Reed waited a good thirty seconds before he concluded something was amiss and wondered if maybe this was a joke. “I’m not in the mood to be trifled with. I’d recommend the next time you ladies want to play a game, you choose another method to do it. Good night.”

“No, don’t go.”

The desperation in her voice stopped him. Clearly something else was going on here. If this wasn’t women being drunk and playing around, what could be Marley’s hesitation? Then it dawned on him. “Is the problem because you’re not alone?”

“Yes.”

Another round of hushed giggles sounded. “Right. Then I take it you don’t want to discuss this with your friends there?”

“Exactly.” Marley sighed.

That sigh of hers sent a rush of blood straight to his cock. Her voice held a wonderful sensual tone that appealed to him and confirmed he had made the right decision to contact her.

His reaction intrigued him. When had he been so interested in a submissive? Not since his ex-girlfriend and that knowledge sent a ping of pain to his heart, which he flatly ignored.

He wanted to be the one to guide Marley. Something about her made his stomach clench, and the thought of not having her maddened him.

Now understanding that she’d paused because she craved privacy, Reed took another approach. He scrolled back up to Marley’s information, clicked on her e-mail address to open a new message, and attached his profile. “We’ll keep this short then. I’ve sent my details to the e-mail address you’ve provided on the forum. Have a look, and we’ll go from there.”

He heard shuffling again, some whispered arguing, before Marley gasped. “Oh…um…you’re…”

Reed chuckled. He didn’t mind that his looks left her speechless. Hell, hers had done the same to him. “Do you approve?”

“He’s gorgeous,” a woman said, not Marley.

The sound of a slap followed by Marley’s grumble informed him she’d just issued someone a punishment for speaking so loud. “I’m interested,” was all she said.

That was enough for him. “Read through the castle’s rules and follow them accordingly. It’ll take you around twelve days to get all the documentation you require, so let’s meet two weeks from tonight. Come to the restaurant at the Castle Dolce Vita at seven p.m. When you arrive, you will ask for and always address me as Master Reed. Understood?”

“Mm hmm.”

Her response made him tighten his jaw. “You will answer me with words, not sounds.”

“Okay…sorry. I’ll be there.”

He would rid her of that behavior. He preferred that his submissives to speak forthrightly and for their responses to be clear. “Very well. I look forward to seeing you then.”

A long pause followed before Marley whispered, “Me too.”

Reed waited for her to hang up first, and as her friends in the background laughed, he heard Marley exhale, long and deep. Nervous? Excited?

He could only be pleased he’d gotten to her first. Many Castle Dolce Vita doms would want her, but he’d snagged her. His throbbing cock reminded him he’d gotten lucky tonight.

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Tuesday, October 11, 2011

LAND OF FALLING STARS by Keta Diablo

LAND OF FALLING STARS by Keta Diablo

After her parents die in a fire, Sophia Whitfield struggles to save her beloved home, Arbor Rose. The Civil War has devastated the South, and another blue coat has come to steal her meager possessions. Before the hated enemy inflicts his destruction, she shoots him. And soon discovers the soldier is Gavin, the champion of her childhood.

Gavin's dark secret lurks in Sophia's future. When she discovers the truth, she's torn between a burning hunger for the man she truly loves and loyalty to Jesse, their childhood friend.

The despicable acts of war have changed everything Sophia and Gavin once cherished. Yet somewhere deep in their hearts, the mystical Land of Falling Stars still exists.

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EXCERPT from Land of Falling Stars, an erotic civil war novel, Keta Diablo

Set-up: Gavin is wounded from a knife fight with one of the villains. He finds Sophia hiding in a barn after the fight.

~ ~ ~
Sophia pressed her back against the rough-hewn planks of the stable wall and inched her way down to a bed of hay at her feet. With her heart thudding, she closed her eyes and willed the brutal images to leave her mind. Gavin could be dead, his blood seeping into the ground. The irony. Three years he'd been gone, fought in a hundred battles only to be killed after he'd come back . . . back to her. Oh, God, she couldn't think about it, couldn't stand to watch him die. She ran hard and fast the second Billy sliced through the soft, golden skin she longed to touch again. Sweet Mother of Jesus, what if he was dead and she’d never . . . .

"I found you."

She lifted her head and looked into Gavin's eyes. A horse neighed several stalls
over and the moon spun out from a patch of clouds shrouding his lean body. His bare chest oozed blood and trickled into his waistband.

Relief flooded her and then panic. "You're bleeding again."

"Am I?" He glanced down at the wound and back to her face. "It looks worse than
it is."

She hesitated when he held his hand out. She didn’t know what would happen when her skin come into contact with his. Beneath his bold perusal, she lifted her trembling hand.

"You're frightened," he said, his forehead creased. “Of me, Sophia?"

She shook her head and hoped he didn't see through her lie. After witnessing his
rage moments ago, she didn't know what to expect from him.

"I would never," he said in a hoarse tone, "harm you." Moving in, he forced her back against the wooden planks. His warm breath fanned her cheeks. "I don't want you to fear me, ever." His chest rose and fell on torn breaths, and his mouth hovered over hers, mingling their breaths. "Kiss me, Sophia."

She looked into his eyes, transfixed by the depth of passion residing there. He placed his hands on the wall and bracketed her head. Their lips met. In the aftermath of the violence, she expected a harsh, demanding kiss, but it was anything but. Gentle and languorous, it shook her to the very core. His tongue caressed her lower lip seeking entry. She responded without thought, parting her lips on a small moan. The erotic dance against the tip of her tongue sent a stream of wild sensations through her limbs. Her hands sought the warm flesh of his chest, every inch ridged muscle. He flinched when her fingers made contact with the fresh wound. Astounded by the emptiness she felt when he broke from the kiss, she gathered her battered senses and looked into his eyes.

“Is that how it felt when Jesse kissed you?"

Trapped between the wall and his body, she looked away from those wicked eyes.
Deliriously weak, shocking images of him crushing her beneath him stormed through her mind. Dear God, what's the matter with me? Promised to Jesse, bound to him heart and soul, I can’t allow myself to think about Gavin's powerful limbs tangled in my bed sheets, his head thrashing in delirium, or his hot, feverish eyes. Since Gavin had returned, her mind swam with carnal thoughts of the man.

A hand came down and lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Hmm, Sophia, is it?"

"I'm so befuddled." Tears pooled in her eyes. "What about Jesse? I promised I'd wait no matter what happened, but . . . ." To speak her heart would be the epitome of betrayal to the person they’d both loved since the day they sailed the Rappahannock dressed as pirates.

He kissed her eyelids. "If he returned tomorrow, you'd fall into his arms; pretend you feel nothing for me, deny this passion between us?"

"Gavin, don't . . . ." She averted her face.

He tightened his grip on her chin, his tone harsh. "Would you, Sophia?"

"Yes," she whispered. "I'd go to him, banish this from my mind."

"It would be that easy?"

"Not easy, Gavin, but . . . ."

"You need to leave Arbor Rose!" His raised voice startled her. "There's nothing left for you here! Your parents are dead and Jesse isn't . . . ."

Without conscious thought, she slapped him. "Don't say it! I can't leave Arbor Rose. Jesse will return and−”

"He's not coming back and you have to face it." He brought a hand to her cheek. "The entire country is about to explode, and if you had any god-given sense, you'd go to your mother's people in Illinois."

She narrowed her eyes, her tone icy. "Let me go. Jesse's coming back and when he does I'm going to keep my promise and marry him.” Her voice softened. "We must forget this, whatever it is."

She shivered from the volatile emotion in his eyes. The same feral snarl that came over him when he crushed Billy and his companions spewed from his lips. He grabbed her wrists, pinned them over her head, and took her mouth, hard. His tongue plundered her lips and forced them apart. She writhed to free herself, but he held her fast, imprisoning her in their mutual desire. Erotic pleasure surged through her veins. Her fingers moved to his long, black hair and she seemed incapable of stopping the moans from the back of her throat.

Clinging to him like a child, she whimpered, "Gavin . . . please."

"You want me, admit it," he said against her mouth.

He clutched a length of her skirt and shoved it over her hips, allowing his fingers to slide up the hot flesh of her thighs. A sound erupted from her throat again, no longer a moan of pleasure but a sob. He stopped on a heartbeat, stepped back and dropped his hands to his sides. Their eyes locked. His shone with lust and anger. She wanted to draw back, knew she should flee but something powerful held her immobilized. Warning bells rang in her head yet she longed to return to his kiss, feel his body against hers.

He drew a deep breath. "Leave, Sophia, now!"

She inched her way along the wall, turned to look at him one last time and scurried through the door.

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DIVINE DECEPTION by Nina Pierce

RIPE AND READY

An Anthology Featuring Stories by Nina Pierce, Mardi Ballou, Kat Alexis and Alexis Canto

Obtaining his life's dream may very well destroy hers...

DIVINE DECEPTION Deception by Nina Pierce

Nicholas is returning to the family vineyard after nearly a decade away. A quick trip to the lawyer to collect the trust fund that's rightfully his and he can wash his hands of the alcoholic father who disowned him years ago. A romp or two with the cellarmaster's assistant shouldn't complicate things.

Francesca has given her heart and soul to Mill Tavern Vineyards, working tirelessly in its wine cellars. Now the greedy son of her stepfather is coming home to take it all from her. Manipulating her way into the playboy's bed may be the only way to save her home.

But hot sex quickly becomes an affair of the heart as Francesca and Nick get tangled in lies and deceit trying to discover the truth behind the failing vineyard.

Other stories include PERFECT PEAR by Mardi Ballou, BERRY BLISS by Kat Alexis, and RIPE FOR LOVE by Alexis Canto.

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Excerpt
"from Divine Deception"

Having Nick present while she visited with Joseph wasn't really in her plans. Frankie had tried to talk Nick into taking the motorcycle to the hospital later in the morning but Margaret had come running down the granite steps swinging a picnic basket as Frankie was climbing into the truck. She handed it to Nick with two quick kisses on his cheeks and stood watching as he climbed into the passenger side of the cab and they pulled from the driveway.

Now they were headed into town, the midmorning sun hanging in an azure sky, its rays dancing on Seneca Lake. Normally Frankie would have loved a day like this but the cab seemed claustrophobic with Nick Gradin's surly attitude sitting between them.

"It's not my fault you didn't know who I was," she said quietly.

Turning to her, he cocked a skeptical eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You knew your father had a stepdaughter."

"And a child bride," Nick remarked coldly. "I expected my stepsister to have pigtails and braces. Not…" His hand motioned up and down her torso.

"Well, you didn't seem to mind the package yesterday."

"Yesterday I thought you were Joseph's assistant."

"Funny, yesterday I thought you were a womanizing pig of a manwhore." She shot him a patronizing smile. "Guess one of us was right."

He frowned. "If you'll recall, I wasn't the one who came on to you in the field."

"As I recall, it was you who was ready for action in the wine cellar."

"I was simply reading the signals you were sending out."

"Then you have a faulty GPS."

"My wiring is just fine thank you."

"I suppose you think it is, with all the woman you have tumbling into your posh Philadelphia bed."

"Now what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, as if you don't know."

"I have no idea what you're…oh, this is stupid. Pull over here." Nick motioned to a dirt road that led to a small alcove near the lake.

She'd been parking there once in high school.

"I'm not going to see Joseph until we clear this up and can at least be civil to each other," he said.

Frankie acquiesced. He was right. It wouldn't do Joseph any good to have them bickering in front of him. She turned the truck into the trees, their pumpkin and gold leaves floating passively on the gentle breeze. They bumped down the dirt tracks, the center lane overgrown with the dried weeds of summer. Frankie felt as if she was entering the lion's mouth. Anger surrounded Nick like the cloud of dust trailing behind them. She had no idea why he was so pissed when she'd only spoken the truth.

Shoving the truck in park and shutting off the engine, Frankie stared out over the lake. Its cobalt surface rippled at the gentle touch of the fall breeze. Maybe this was the perfect place to help Nick see things her way. Though she hadn't exactly started the conversation off in the right direction, maybe she could try again. "I think—"

As if he hadn't heard her, Nick got out and slammed the door. Pacing in front of the truck, he pulled at his bottom lip, an angry scowl furrowing his brows. What the hell was his problem? Frankie got out and stalked after him. "For someone who wants to talk, you're damn rude, you know that, Gradin?"

He grabbed her and pressed her against the front of truck, the solid planes of his chest trapping her. "I don't know what my father told you about me but I do not—I repeat, do not—have a rotating door on my bedroom. There is no harem of beauties waiting for me in Philly. When I choose to sleep with a woman I like there to be a little chemistry between me and the lady." His mouth came down hungrily on hers, his taste already familiar. When his tongue ran the seam of her lips, she had no choice but to open to his assault. Fisting his hand in her hair, Nick controlled the breath-stealing tempo while his other hand surrounded her breast, squeezing the sensitive flesh. Warm shocks of want shot straight to her pussy. Frankie's hands seized the soft chambray of his shirt, her heart racing in her ears. Nick broke from her as abruptly as he began. "And there's no denying our chemistry, Francesca."

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Monday, October 10, 2011

CORRALLING THE CITY GIRL by Stacey Espino

CORRALLING THE CITY GIRL by Stacey Espino

Ride 'Em Hard Book 2

Jane's just inherited her late uncle's estate. But there's a catch. She has to ride along in a two-week-long cattle drive or she'll forfeit the ranch and money. The city girl doesn't have a clue where to start, so she advertises for three cowboys to assist her.

Chase, Brad and Dawson are hired to drive five thousand head of cattle across the prairies of Alberta. They expect their boss to be some spoiled rich boy looking for adventure, not a stunning woman with legs to die for. She's unlike any cowgirl - complaining, cursing, and driving them nuts with her forked tongue. It'll take some tying up and rough cowboy handling to teach the little siren how to behave.

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~Adult Excerpt~

“Roll her over.” Brad tugged her his way until she met her stomach.

“She has such a cute little ass,” said Brad. “I can’t wait to fuck it again.”

“You had it last time while I watched. This time it’s my turn.” Dawson’s tone didn’t leave room for argument and it made her hot. Her pussy pulsed and she clamped down, only to feel the gingerroot release in her ass in a painful wave. She squealed. “Relax.”

Chase pulled the rope taut, stretching her arms so she couldn’t fidget or fight to get free. “What are you doing to me?”

“This punishment has been a long time coming, darlin’. I put up with your forked tongue for nearly a week.” He pulled her panties down to her thighs. Dawson’s hand came down on her ass, the fleshy sound filling the campsite. She tightened, only to regret it. His big, rough hand came down several times on each ass cheek, and every time she squeezed her muscles, earning her a sharp burn from the gingerroot.

“Get it out!” A hand smoothed up and down her back, attempting to placate her. She wouldn’t admit that this wicked night didn’t make her cunt hungry and mind drift to every debased desire she’d ever imagined.

“Once you relax through these spanks, I’ll know you’re learning.” Dawson smacked her ass, harder, and she fought for control this time. She didn’t clamp down and the vibrations traveled all the way to her engorged clit. It was an eye-opening moment, and she knew things would only get better.

“Learning what?”

He switched positions with Chase, who answered for him. “You’ll learn you belong to us, that we love you, and that we’re in control when we fuck.”

“It’s all for your pleasure, darlin’.” Brad brushed the hair off her forehead. “If you stop fighting, I promise you’ll like it.”

“You’ve done this before, too?” She was shocked that all the men seemed to know another use for ginger. Never in her life had sex been like this for her. It had always been vanilla and unsatisfying. Her greatest thrills came from her toy, and it couldn’t compare to what these men offered her.

“I think every cowboy of age has. You’ve been in the city too long, Jane.”

Chase spanked her, not as hard as Dawson had. After each spank, he trailed his fingers between her legs and teased her clit. Every sequence taught her more, and she relaxed as they suggested and truly began to enjoy the sting of each spank. Pleasure and pain combined, beginning the buildup of a monumental orgasm. But this was only a prelude and she wanted their cocks, not just their sex games.

“I want cock,” she said. Her cheeks heated after the words escaped her lips. It sounded so dirty and she hadn’t meant to say it aloud.

“Bring her to her knees,” said Dawson. Chase’s strong arm slipped under her belly and hoisted to her knees, doggy-style. Brad continued to hold her rope, so she couldn’t rear up to her knees. “That’s better. You look lovely like this, baby doll.” He took the rope from Brad and tugged it up so her face was near his groin. She sat on her knees, her panties below her ass, and the ginger still penetrating her. He unbuckled and unzipped, only releasing his erection. She didn’t have to be asked, she wanted to taste him, to please him. Jane sucked in the thick head, twirling her tongue around the spongy surface, flicking the firm nub on the underside.

“That’s enough. I need to be inside you. Right now.” His sudden urgency made her stomach flutter.

He pressed her back down until her breasts hit the grass, her ass still kissing the night air. Dawson plucked the root from her anus, and she sighed in relief. She could feel the moisture from the ginger and fat drip down after it was released. He didn’t wait, didn’t let her stretch, just forced his big cock into her ass, and he was big. She moaned, savoring the fullness, the sweet relief and the rawness of the act.

“Do you like my dick in your ass, little one?”

She nodded, unable to speak, only focusing on the rhythm of each delicious stroke. Jane wanted it harder, faster, and to be honest, she wanted another cock to fill her body. “More!”

Chase didn’t let her down. He dropped to his back beside her, gloriously naked, his cock jutting up, virile and proud. “Come straddle me, sweetheart.”

Dawson assisted her, shuffling them over without pulling out of her body. She rested her bound hands on Chase’s chest, and he reached down to tear her thin panties clear off her body. “More,” she repeated, feeling more savage than human.

“Sit on my dick. I’m gonna fuck you until you’re screaming my name.”

She sank into relief, enjoying the tug and tightness as the second hard erection fought for space in her body. Jane loved it—the naughtiness, the grit, the untamed desire. She rode him hard, and Dawson rode her. They were one pass of flesh and fucking. The only missing element was her sweet Brad. She searched for him. He was standing a few feet away, holding the slack end of the rope, watching.

“Brad, I need you.”

He dropped the rope and followed her voice, crouched beside Chase’s prone body. She licked her lips, an invitation which he took. They kissed as the other men worked her body. Deeply, passionately—enough to create their own bubble of space within the foursome.

“I don’t want you just watching, Brad. Give me your cock so I can suck it.”

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Sunday, October 9, 2011

WHITE ROSES by Michelle Levigne

WHITE ROSES by Michelle Levigne

A Tabor Heights, Ohio Novel

Twenty years ago, Toni's sister, Angel, was killed by her secret boyfriend. Now, the White Rose Killer is stalking and killing young women, searching for his true love. Toni is sure this is the same boy who killed Angel, grown to be a dangerous man.

Curt, assistant editor at the Tabor Picayune, has the same theory. They team up in a race against time to dig through the past to identify Angel's killer, before he chooses, terrorizes, and kills another victim.

To protect Toni from being chosen as the White Rose's next 'true love,' Curt and Toni pretend to be involved. Reluctant partnership turns to friendship and then to something more, but will it last beyond the unmasking of the killer?

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EXCERPT

"Donovan said he'd get somebody started checking places that supply greenhouses, and places that would provide building materials. But wouldn't they report something like that being stolen?" She brought the pot over to the table, shoved aside a stack of papers, and put it on a trivet in the center of the table.

Curt inhaled deeply of the fragrant steam rising out of the pot and groaned. "That is not jar sauce. Please tell me you made it."

"Gotta have something to do when you're frustrated and you can't get to the gym." Toni blushed and grinned and stepped over to the refrigerator to pull out a big bowl of salad. "With a name like Napolitano, I better be able to make a decent pot of sauce."

"You are the perfect woman. Marry me."

Curt held his breath and went stone still, afraid to look at Toni. She, on the other hand, started dishing up the spaghetti as if she hadn't heard what he said. If she did hear, she didn't react. He slowly, cautiously released his breath, and congratulated himself that Toni knew him so well, she knew he was joking.

That was good, wasn't it?

"What if Donovan doesn't find any report of that greenhouse panel being stolen?" Toni continued, as she dished up her own spaghetti.

"How much surplus do you think anyone has sitting around?" he countered, and concentrated on twirling strands around his fork. He flinched when Toni reached over and slapped his hand.

"Bless the mess before you eat, okay?" She grinned at him when he looked up at her, startled and half-guilty.

Curt nearly took hold of her hands before he bowed his head to pray, just like he had seen dating couples do at Singles outings for church. That urge scared him, so he ended up clasping his hands together tightly in his lap. What was wrong with him lately?

For a few minutes after he said 'amen,' neither one said anything, busy with scooping up salad and putting dressing on it. He groaned at the first spicy, rich taste of the dark red spaghetti sauce. In college, he had lived on spaghetti and other inexpensive food, but instead of getting sick of it, Curt had turned himself into a connoisseur. Toni's creation ranked up there with the best he had ever tasted. She laughed when he told her so.

"Flattery will get you a quart to take home, if you really like it that much."

"Forget about taking it home. I'll drink it instead of coffee."

"Low blood sugar. Definitely. You're getting loopy." She picked through her salad bowl for a moment. "Okay, the greenhouse panel. What if it was never reported stolen because the White Rose owns a greenhouse?"

"That'd make sense. They've been trying to use the roses as a lead, but no luck." Curt chewed for a minute or two while he thought it over. "He grows roses for himself, to give his victims."

"I didn't see anything about greenhouses or even belonging to a garden club, when I looked through the list. Did you?" Toni sighed and shrugged when Curt thought a moment and shook his head. "Got the feeling we'll spend the whole evening looking through the disks Baxter gave us?"

"Just keep the spaghetti coming."

Toni laughed, and that suited Curt just fine.

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Saturday, October 8, 2011

A TIME TO LOVE by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

A TIME TO LOVE by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

Reclusive songwriter Samuel Baird lives on a remote Arkansas mountain drinking his life away. The last thing he wants is a woman to complicate things but during a spectacular thunderstorm, a woman arrives just in time to save his life.

She says she comes from the late 1800's and he thinks she is crazy but Annie still manages to gain his attention and affection.

To reach a happily ever after, Samuel and Annie must overcome several obstacles, past and present, but in the end, they find the happiness that they seek.

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~Excerpt~

“It’s all right now.” He made the phrase a mantra by repeating it three times. Her breath slowed as she stopped shaking. With the danger past, he felt an intense awareness of her body against his. Every pliable curve was a fit against his frame. He knew the cadence of her heartbeat and smelled the fragrance of her hair. His body quickened as she moved against him, verification that she felt it too, and the strange pull that could make strangers into lovers.

Annie put her mouth to his. He could not move for one long moment as he felt her warm, sweet mouth moving over his and he kissed her back. The act restored something that had been dormant within and he was the old Samuel, healed and unharmed. He was free of the dark animal lust that once carried him to strange beds, a man reborn and made whole.

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WITNESS PROTECTION PROGRAM by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

WITNESS PROTECTION PROGRAM by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

When a routine trip to the local discount store erupts in gunfire, Kendra Driscoll finds herself rescued by a stern-faced federal marshall. When he whisks her away in a government van, she must face the fact that her witness protection cover is blown. Now she'll have to deal with being in Marshall Timothy Campbell's custody until further arrangements can be made. Timothy takes her to a safe house tucked away in rural southern Arkansas and she reverts to being Deborah Kincaid.

As she gets to know Tim, Kendra realizes he isn't as stern as he looks. Underneath his gruff exterior she finds a kind, sensitive man and soon, despite the danger from the Bianco family, she also finds herself falling in love. Worse, so does Tim. He falls hard for his witness and that's something that isn't supposed to happen.

But when events turn ugly and Tim suffers a life-threatening rattlesnake bite, it's up to Deborah herself to face her enemies and deal with the danger for the last time.

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~Excerpt~

“Don’t scream,” a male voice whispered in her ear. Whoever he might be, he was behind her and she couldn't see him at all. However, he smelled of Irish Spring soap and peppermints. “Take my hand.”
She tried to ask why but with his hand blocking her mouth, she couldn't speak so she shook her head to refuse. He snatched her left hand with his free one and jerked hard enough she had to move with him or be drug behind. He took his hand off her mouth but she didn't dare make a sound or speak. In a crouched position, he maneuvered her past three more open freezer cases and then went wide to the left through a door that led back into the storerooms. Once that door swung closed behind them, he stood upright and faced her.

He loomed tall above her, six feet or better, lean and lithe. His blue jeans fit his chiseled body like an outer skin and his plaid flannel shirt looked cozy. On his hip, a Smith and Wesson .40 caliber pistol fit into a nylon holster attached to his wide leather belt. His black eyes bored into hers, vital and filled with strength. The solemn expression on his face seemed carved from solid granite. He looked capable and very dangerous. In fact, he reminded Kendra of a leopard she watched once at the zoo, graceful and somehow beautiful yet deadly.

Out in the store somewhere, more gunfire roared and screams followed but he didn't flinch or react. She cringed with each blast, fighting the desire to drop to the floor. If he hadn’t held her in his grasp, she’d dropped, too. His height and lethal manner intimidated her but not enough that she didn't attempt to break free.

“Let me go!” She twisted her hand, struggling to work loose.

He snorted and gripped harder.

“Relax. I'll get you out of here safe and sound. Just stay calm and be quiet.”

Her anger kindled, his bossy ways made her old-fashioned mad and without thought, she spoke, her voice louder than it should be.

“I’m not going with you. I won't be a hostage,” Kendra told him, her voice high-pitched and nasal. “Leave me alone and go turn yourself into the authorities!”

He laughed aloud as he reached into his front jeans pocket pulling out something he thrust in her direction; a gold badge formed with an outer circle around a five-pointed star. “United States Marshall” was etched around the rim.

“Maybe I should've introduced myself,” he said with what might've been a smile on a less serious face. “I’m Timothy Campbell, United States Marshall.”

The reality sank in with speed. He wasn't one of the shooters but a law enforcement officer and Kendra wondered why he wasn’t out there, taking down the suspect and saving lives in plural instead of just saving her own. Questions flooded her brain so fast she didn’t know where to begin or what to ask. He must've read the curiosity in her eyes because he pulled her forward toward a back exit off the storeroom.

“Ask me whatever you want later,” Timothy Campbell said. “Right now, we need to move. Let’s go.”

He towed her outside with speed and into a waiting black Humvee where he opened the rear passenger door, shoved her inside and followed her onto the seat. Before Kendra could assimilate anything more, the vehicle pulled out and reached the busy highway within seconds. With the discount store fast vanishing behind them, she realized her car remained in the parking lot but at least her purse still dangled from her shoulder. Numerous emergency vehicles raced past them headed for the scene. She counted three ambulances, two fire trucks, multiple squad cars and more.

“Wait!” she said, fumbling for the seat belts. “Where are we going? I need to cover this breaking story. Shouldn’t you be back there, helping people or something?”

He turned to her, his face still impassive.

“We're going somewhere safe and the only place I need to be is here with you.”

Anger flared, stronger than fear. Her routine grocery-shopping trip halted with violence forced her to take cover, and now Kendra found herself in the back of an SUV hurling down the highway at breakneck speed. She'd rather be anywhere else, even still crouched behind the freezer case in fact. Where she should be was outside the store with a press pass and a microphone in her hand.

“I don’t want to be here,” Kendra snapped. “Take me back to the store, please. I'm the news director for the local radio station. I need to cover this story.”

The Marshall shook his head.

"No you don’t. Do you know why the shooter was at that location?”

She had no clue.

“Let me guess. Did they overcharge him? Not have what he wanted in stock? Or was it just the first place he found where he could go postal?”

Her sarcastic tone failed to get a rise but his reply struck her like a slap across the face.


“He wanted you, Deborah. You’re the target.”

She caught her breath and held it, fear snaking through her body like live electricity. Her first response to hearing her name, the name her mother picked out for her twenty-seven years earlier, was to run. If she could've leaped from the fast moving vehicle, she’d done it but since she couldn't, she tried to bluff it out instead.

“Who’s Deborah? My name is Kendra Lou Driskell.”

He focused his full-strength stare on her and made eye contact.

“That might get you brownie points but it won’t cut ice with me. If you say it to the wrong individual, you might end up in the county morgue. You and I both know you're Deborah Kay Kincaid and that you’ve been in the federal witness protection program for two and a half years.”

His harsh tone cut through her feeble bravado like a steak knife through a tender T-bone steak. His voice had a no-nonsense quality that refuted any possible argument but she heard a kindness beneath the gruff words that steadied her long enough she was able to sit back and exhale.

“How do you know they were after me?” Kendra asked, wondering if she could just be Deborah again since her cover was now transparent.

“You're watched, of course. We had a tip that proved to be correct,” his voice remained even. “Everyone in the program is monitored. Didn’t you realize that?”

“No, I didn't.”

A chill crept up her spine as comprehension that someone kept track of her every day, maybe each hour sank in, and her notion of hard-won privacy was just an illusion. So was any real safety, she mused, if someone tracked her to Bargain Mart and started shooting. She wasn’t safe. Worse yet, she never had been.


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Friday, October 7, 2011

HARD DRIVIN' MAN by Cerise DeLand

HARD DRIVIN' MAN by Cerise DeLand


Trey Hardwick has always been one hard drivin’ man to get what he wants—and he demands Jess Spencer in his bed for one weekend. And more…

Trey Hardwick has always loved his sister-in-law come rain or come shine. But now that she’s a widow—and he fears some other man may sweep her off her feet, Trey’s gonna drive one hard bargain with the only woman he’s ever needed in his bed—and his life.



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If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.
Copyright © Cerise DeLand, 2010
All Rights Reserved, Total-E-Ntwined Limited, T/A Total-E-Bound.

Excerpt From: Hard Drivin' Man


Jessica shoved the gear shift of her ten-year-old pick-up into ‘park’ and sat staring at the bright red door of Trey Hardwick’s sprawling Texas ranch house. Though her young brother-in-law had arrived home on leave from the Army two weeks ago, she hadn’t come over to visit. Couldn’t. Even though Trey had asked her to come to dinner last Friday, she had refused, not risking the chance she’d reveal to him how foolishly she craved his kiss-me-quick six-foot-six wall of masculinity in her bed. Inside her body.

Stop it, Jess. Your appetite for him is a widow’s hunger. Born in minutes of shared laughter with him over the decades. Born in moments when you thought he understood you better than Clint ever did. Killed by common sense, your age difference—and your decision to never seek another man to love.

She inhaled, summoning the courage she’d corralled back home this morning. This appeal would have been easier if she could have approached the ranch foreman hired by Trey and his dad years ago to run the place. But it wasn’t friendly Frank Harmon she had to face this morning. Damn it.

She flicked off the ignition and threw her keys on the dash. She hadn’t been to the Rocking H in nearly a year. Not since her father-in-law, Taylor Hardwick’s, wake. Still, she marvelled that the rambling Hardwick homestead looked as fresh as it had when she’d first seen it as a teenager. Then she’d been young, so very young, and so much more naïve about how life would treat her. How she’d treat life. She’d had hope then. In love with the high school quarterback, she’d been honoured and amazed that Clint Hardwick loved her back. That the second son of the legendary Hardwick dynasty wanted her as his bride. Claimed her for himself before any other boy could. And Jess had welcomed Clint’s proposal. Needed him. Wanted him.

She snorted. And look how well that turned out.

She reached across the seat for her summer straw Stetson and jammed it on over her pony tail. But vanity and pride had her straining up to check out her face in the rear-view mirror. What she saw made her frown and question her simple approach. No make-up, no cleavage showing for the hunky specimen most females in town would drop their panties for. Is this the way to win Trey over? Or a sure way to fail?

She squinted at her reflection. The lines around her eyes came from years of sun-drying her skin as she rustled cattle on the range. Her lips, still full and pink, didn’t widen in laughter often. True, her cheeks were high and elegant, but her green eyes showed the weary strength of running her ranch alone since Clint’s death three years ago. She’d come far since then, freed from worry when she no longer had to worry each day about Clint’s preference for bourbon over her.

Forget that! She snapped away from her image. Ask for Trey’s help now—or never! On a small cry, she thrust open the cab door, slid down out of the truck and slammed the door.

Palms running down her denim-clad thighs, she strode up the circular drive towards Trey’s house. And what she needed.

What she had to have to survive.

And Trey, Clint’s younger brother, had to give it to her. Didn’t he?

She knocked. Folded her arms. Tapped her toe. Dug the heel of her boot into the floorboard.

No answer.

She tried again, banging the big brass knocker against the sturdy red wood with loud purpose.

“Hey, hey!” She heard Trey yelling from inside. “I’m here, Jess!” He swung the door wide.

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CLIMBING THE LADDER by B.A. Tortuga

CLIMBING THE LADDER by BA Tortuga

Shifting Streams Book One

Mesa has a lot on his plate since he became his pack's Alpha. With another clan on the brink of self-destruction, he knows he has too much to take care of to go running off, but he also knows what he needs to do in order to run his pack, and that's go get his mate.

Kody left Mesa years ago, knowing they could never be together the way Kody really wanted. Making a life for himself seemed like the best idea, and when he found Samantha, he knew he'd found the woman he wanted to marry. Kody never forgot Mesa, but it still comes as a shock when the big, growly man shows up on his Los Angeles doorstep.

Between Sammy's rage at what she sees as Kody's betrayal, pack politics hitting the boiling point and the amazing chemistry between the three of them, Kody, Mesa and Samantha have their work cut out for them. Can they climb the ladder to love?

Author's Note: Welcome to Shifting Streams! :D Mesa and Sammy and Kody were a blast to write and I'm working on book 2 right now. I love the wolf dynamic, especially when one of the pairing doesn't even know.

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~Excerpt~

“Congratulations, Mesa.” Grandma Minnie smiled at him, clapping him on the shoulder. The other elders gathered around, offering happy noises and claps on the back. They were all very tickled for him, happy as pigs in shit.

At least as happy as they could be, with Ben disappearing one afternoon a month ago with Susan, David slitting his wrists a week later, unable to do anything but cry their names. It had been Mesa who had found the two bodies, desiccated and still, their throats torn out. Ben had been a good Alpha, strong. Mesa couldn’t imagine what could do that sort of damage.

Couldn’t imagine how to defend his Clan from it, either.

“Such serious thoughts.” Granny winked at him, but her eyes were worried, too. Knowing.

“Mesa! You did it!” One of the pack females—Alicia, he thought her name was—leapt at him. He tried to catch her, but after the last few days of visions and fur and fang, he didn’t have it in him, and she ended up slumped against his body. “You did it! We’re so proud, all of us. You can choose a woman now, move into the big house. You must be so excited!”

She certainly was, eager and aroused, rubbing against him.

“I guess.” Mesa didn’t particularly care. He was exhausted, his muscles shaking. He wanted a nap, a beer and a shower, and not in that order. Hell, he just wanted to go off and lick his wounds, which were pretty extensive, considering he’d just passed his Alpha trials. The trials were designed to test all of his abilities, physical and mental, and he was wiped out. He’d passed, though.

One of the youngest tribe members to do it, too.

“You’re a full Alpha now, son.” Grandma Minnie hugged on him, her teeth dull and round from years of use. “I’m so proud.”

“Thanks, Granny.” He loved the old lady. He really did. Too bad, she was squashing a six-inch gash on his shoulder. He was going to have to tell Canyon off for that one. The cut above his eye was his own fault. He’d fallen down like a cub at the end of the final run.

“Well, boy, what are you going to do now?” Grandpa Moses asked, coming to peer into his face with those bluish cataract-filled eyes. The old man had never been his biggest supporter, but had cheered him on like a champ today.

Even after all of Mesa’s trials, and all his bitching about wanting a bath, his thoughts went to Kody, just as he’d known they would, and Mesa squared his shoulders. He was sick to death of missing his best friend, and now that he had the resources of the entire pack behind him, he was ready to get his life back where he wanted it.

“I’m going to clean up. Go tell Juniper I passed and tell Canyon I need to see him.” He grinned, making Grandma Minnie hoot when she saw his expression.

“Then I’m going to go get my mate back.”

* * * *

“Hey, Sammy!” Becky waved at her from the patio of Tapatilia’s. “Margaritas are coming!”

God, she did love a lunch date. “Excellent.”

She slipped into the chair and put her bag down by her legs. She’d flown in to LAX mid-morning and had headed into the office to check emails, all that garbage. Then she’d called home, made sure Kody was back from his weekend, and promised to bring some bubbly for some late afternoon nookie.

“How’s the baby?”

“With the nanny today, thank God. I needed my girl time. How’s business?”

She shrugged. “It could be better. You know.”

Becky nodded. Her husband was an investment guy and the recession had kicked the man’s butt there for a little while. “I do. How is Kody?”

Even after two years, Becky’s nose still wrinkled when she asked about Sammy’s husband. The worst part was that it wasn’t just Becky. It was Becky, Meg, Ginny. Steph. All of them.

They just couldn’t see how amazing Kody was, how wanton, how he took care of her.

“He’s great. He just got home from a gig in San Jose.”

“How is the fortune telling business these days?”

“It’s good.” She sighed, stared at the lunch menu. This wasn’t supposed to be nasty, damn it. This was supposed to be lunch.

“I’m sorry, Sammy. That was mean. Kody’s a sweetheart, you know that.”

“I do. I just wish you guys would give him a break.”

Becky tossed her hair, the blonde highlights freshly done and perfect, making Sammy want to check her do. Kody liked it darker, though, more natural. He said the hair color smelled bad, even after a wash. “We try, Sammy, but, good God, you brought him home from a fair. He didn’t have a house!”

No, but neither had she, once upon a time. None of these people knew about her upbringing, about the foster homes, the homelessness, the shame. Kody had –known—magically, wonderfully, absolutely.

Kody had known and not cared.

“Two years ago. You said your piece. You all told me what a big mistake I was making. Now he should have proven himself.”

“I know, but…”

She held one hand up, tired of the conversation. “Enough, okay? No buts. I love him. He loves me. We’re married.”

And she’d never been so happy, so free. So loved for exactly who she was.

She ordered a Cobb salad, texted Kody, then turned the conversation to something easier. “Are you going to host another Halloween party this year? We’re thinking about ordering Red Riding costumes, since we’ve got plenty of time.”

She listened with half an ear, her mind already home with her lover, his hunger, his need.

* * * *

Potatoes. Tomatoes. Carrots. Celery. Onions. London broil.

God, the stew smelled good.

He’d made four loaves of bread—enough for the week’s lunches, plus three dinners, and one loaf for Sammy to take to the office for the potluck.

Now, apple crisp or a coconut cream pie? They both sounded good, and Sammy loved the coconut, but the apples were in season now. So yummy. And the cinnamon would make the house smell so good.

So good.

Cinnamon made Sammy snuggly.

There was something very nice about snuggly Sammy. Hot. Spicy, like the cinnamon.

Kody growled happily, peeling the apples and indulging in a little fantasy about Sammy’s hands.

Kody loved Sammy’s hands.

He got three apples peeled and was working on number four when something intruded on his fantasy, a scent that had his nose quivering. It was familiar…

His nose twitched and he put the apple down, whining deep in his throat, following his nose. Yes. Familiar, but different. Full of strength. Weird. Fascinating.

He headed toward the back door.

The scent got stronger, and he identified it as male, musky, almost addictive.

Kody pushed the hair out of his face, moved the curtain from the back door. The door popped open, all but knocking him down. It wasn’t Sammy. Not at all.

“Hey, Kody. ‘Bout time I tracked you down.”

He was dreaming.

Dreaming.

Not awake.

Sound asleep.

Not here.

He was chasing the moon.

Kody reached down, pinched his arm. Hard.

“Still here.” His oldest friend and first love, Mesa McMullen, was standing right there. Huge and beautiful and dark and strong. Male. Fierce. Grinning at him like a monkey.

Mesa.

His Mesa.

“You’re in Los Angeles.”

“I am.” Mesa smiled, the expression pure wolf. “So are you.”

“Uh-huh.” His nostrils flared. “You smell different.”

Even after three years, he remembered exactly how good Mesa smelled.

“I passed, baby. My trials.” He could see Mesa’s hands flex, as if to keep from reaching for him. Or maybe preparing to.

“Mesa…” Oh. Oh, lord and lady. His Alpha. “I’m so proud.”

“Good. Come home with me.”

“Oh.” He whined softly, his body going immediately, painfully hard and he took a step forward, wanting his mate more than almost anything. Almost. “I… But there’s Sammy.”

“Sammy. Who the fuck is Sammy?” Mesa’s growl vibrated all the way down Kody’s spine, as if someone had hit a tuning fork against his bones.

He held up his hand with the wedding ring. He hadn’t believed Mesa would come for him, had thought, when the moon led him down out of the mountains, that he would never be Clan again.

He could almost hear Grandma Minnie’s laughter in his soul.

“You—” Mesa blinked. “You’d never marry a man.”

He chirruped softly, head tilting. “Why would I marry a man?”

Mesa was his mate. When they bonded—if they bonded—it would be for life.

“So, Sammy is a girl?” Mesa was starting to smile, a look Kody knew well. It was sex and need and pride and pleasure, all at once.

Kody nodded. “Of course. My wife. She’s beautiful. Fierce.”

“We’ll have to bring her with us.”

“Oh.” He stepped forward, vibrating. Those words were his most hoped for wish, spoken aloud. “Yes. Yes, Mesa. Please.”

Mesa closed the rest of the gap between them, hand behind Kody’s head to pull him up for a kiss.

Broad and fierce, Mesa felt like heaven against him, growling, mouth hovering right above his lips. Kody sobbed in anticipation, hands spreading over Mesa’s chest.

“Need you, baby. Waited so long.” Mesa kissed him, just like Kody wanted.

Everything inside him howled. Mate. His Mate. His Alpha. His Mesa.

They rubbed together, Mesa’s leg sliding between his and lifting. Ached. It ached so good. “Mate…”

Those big hands closed on his ass, squeezing, and his cock jumped, his need tripling, quadrupling.

His fingers tangled in Mesa’s thick, black hair, holding them together. Mesa was going to devour him, just eat him alive. He’d missed this, the flavor of his best friend, for years.

Now he could have it. He could have all he wanted.

He heard a soft sound, then “Kody? Kody, what the hell?”

Oh.

Oops.

Mesa lifted his head, teeth bared in a growl. “Who is this?”

“My wife.”

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Thursday, October 6, 2011

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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Wednesday, October 5, 2011

BLOOD ETERNAL by Marie Treanor

BLOOD ETERNAL: an Awakened by Blood novel by Marie Treanor

Secrets don't disappear after seduction...

Elizabeth Silk is struggling to reconcile her passion for the vampire overlord Saloman and her allegiance to the vampire hunters. When a shocking vampire revolt calls Saloman away from her, she refuses to follow him.

To make matters worse, Saloman's beloved cousin Luk has been
found and awakened by one of his greatest enemies. Frenzied
with bloodlust, Luk embarks on a killing spree and prepares to
expose Saloman's biggest vulnerability: Elizabeth.

But under Saloman's regime, vampires have become less concerned with secrecy, no longer willing to hide their power. Rumors are swirling about attacks on humans. After Saloman joins forces with the vampire hunters to consolidate his power, Elizabeth begins to understand her role in the inevitable collision of the two worlds. She could bring resolution between vampires and humans - if she can manage to stay alive long enough to play both sides.

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Excerpts:

When the earth moved, the vampire Saloman felt a surge of exquisite pleasure almost akin to sexual release. The tension in him snapped, broken by the rush of rare, intoxicating fear.

Dawn approached, and he was too close to the earth¬quake’s center for safety, too isolated in these Peruvian mountains to be discovered should he become buried under an immovable fall of rock. Already he could hear the thunder of incipient avalanches and landslides drowning out the lesser destruction of man-made edifices, but if he honed his supernatural hearing, he could just about make out the distinctive thuds of collapsing wood and masonry in the distant villages. The sounds of wreckage brought him a certain amount of satisfaction. The villages were already empty of life—he’d seen to that over the last couple of weeks.

He, Saloman, was one of the very few able-bodied beings left on this mountain. Even the animals had fled, their instincts warning them that the earth was angry. Unlike them, Saloman savored that anger, that knowledge of a unique power far superior to his own, a power before which even his strength could do nothing. And so he lay on his hard mountain ledge in the dark, reveling in his rare moment of helplessness, smiling up at the black, wavering sky while the earth under him heaved and cracked, splitting rocks and trees, hurling down the flimsy village buildings.

He knew the risk; he didn’t want to end his existence or to return to the tortured sleep of death. He didn’t want to leave this world. He didn’t want to leave Elizabeth. And yet still he had come closer than he should to wait for the earth to shake—partly because he wanted to feel the massive power of it, partly because, like the rebellious boy he’d once been, he wanted to dare the danger.

It was an indulgence he shouldn’t have allowed himself. He acknowledged that as the ledge of rock split under his back, hurling him off the edge. At the last moment, he grasped onto the one stable corner, giving himself a modicum of control as he jumped the fifty feet or so onto the hard, jagged ground below—more from memory than sight, since the tumbling boulders and dust impaired his night vision.

By the time he’d found a flatter foothold sheltered enough to prevent any more stones from landing on his head and shoulders, the quake had stopped. The mountain, however, hadn’t. It continued to spit rocks down toward him, and below he could hear them gathering pace and volume. By morning, the mountain would have changed its shape.

Fear was good. He was glad he’d come up here to remember what it was like to be afraid. Confront your fears, his cousin Luk had told him, even before Saloman had died and been reborn a vampire. Luk had turned him, and had taught him well, just as if he’d known that Saloman would be the last of their Ancient race. Saloman had learned to face soul-destroying loneliness; he’d fought and defeated everyone who threatened him. There was no one left who could invade his mind and find him wanting—which had been his first and most intense fear, the one that had formed his boyhood and never quite left him. And yet he could think of his father now without pain or hurt or terror, and he knew that if it had been possible for them to meet again, he would not be afraid. He had no reason to be.
Saloman lay down once more, gazing up at the steady sky while the mountain rearranged itself with noisy, dust-filled aggression. He smiled, because no one else could possibly have done what he just had. No one had ever done what he was doing now.

Watch me, Elizabeth. I will prevail. The world will do my bidding. You can’t doubt it.

It was his own thought. He didn’t send it to her. He wouldn’t even tell her about this; he would let her find out for herself. Perhaps he’d even go to her, so he was with her when she made the discovery. Hunger tore through him. Blood and sex and Elizabeth. A reward before the next stage began.

He sat up, unable to be still any longer. His lesson in humility had, in the end, fed his self-belief. Only he could have survived the earthquake from here; he alone could unite and direct the world. No one could stop him. And as the world learned his power, who would want to? He’d find his way down the mountain and drink some human blood before he began his journey across the world to Scotland.

But as he rose, a scream of rage and terror slammed into his mind. Saloman let out an involuntary cry, grasping his head in both hands to prevent the pain, the anguish, instinctively trying to squeeze out the howling voice that should have been mere memory and yet felt as real as the rocks sliding and crashing their way down the mountainside. The flash of impossible presence surged and then vanished as swiftly as it had come, leaving Saloman to drop his hands slowly from his face.

Which was when he realized he had no time to analyze himself for sanity or injury. In a moment, he was going to be buried deep under an avalanche. Saloman hurled himself forward and leapt into darkness.


*


She gripped the stake, bracing her free hand against the rock. She didn’t need the detector anymore. She could sense Ancient.

He moved differently, like a shadow around the curve of the hill, gliding over the boulder a yard away from her feet. And instead of attacking, he stood still on top of the boulder and regarded her in silence. Only his long hair stirred in the breeze.

Slowly, Elizabeth lowered her stake. “Saloman.”

Saloman stepped down from the boulder and walked the distance between them. She tried to speak, questions and information tangling in her head and on her lips. In the end, she never made more than an inarticulate gurgle, because the words vanished as his sheer presence overwhelmed her. There was only his name in her head, his profound black eyes to drown in, his body pressing her flat into the rock. The hilt of his sword, a turning gift from Luk, brushed against her hip.

Wordlessly, she lifted her face to his. But he didn’t kiss her mouth. His silken lips took her neck in a strong, urgent pull. The hard shaft of his erection pressed between her thighs, and inappropriate lust galloped through her. Well, it had been a long time, several weeks. . . .

It seemed he felt the same. His tongue lapped at her vein and without warning his teeth pierced her skin. Her mouth opened in a silent cry of pain that vanished into the surge of fierce, familiar pleasure. She gripped his arms hard, letting herself glory just for a moment in the blissful weakness of her blood rushing into his mouth in answer to the tug of his lips.

So lost was she in the blood kiss that it was a moment before she realized he’d unzipped her jeans and pushed them and her panties down over her hips.

“Saloman, the hunters are here,” she managed. “They’re coming now.”

His cool, stroking hands left her hips, perversely disappointing her, until he seized the Ancient detector from her frozen hand and hurled it into the night. Before she could object to this vandalism, he lifted her and entered her body in one swift, gliding movement that shattered the remnants of her resistance.

Blood and sex and Elizabeth, he said inside her head.

Bastard. Can’t you even say hello?

He detached his teeth from her neck and flicked his tongue over the wound to heal it. His burning gaze lifted to hers.

“Hello,” he said huskily, and took her mouth.

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Monday, October 3, 2011

SLOW RIDE by Erin McCarthy

SLOW RIDE by Erin McCarthy

A Fast Track Novel

As a tribute to her late journalist father, Tuesday Jones is planning a career benefit, auctioning off racing memorabilia and meet-and-greets with drivers.

Ex-racing star Diesel Lange has had his own brush with death, and is determined not to waste another minute of his life...especially when he meets Tuesday. He wants nothing more than to shift their romance into high gear, but he knows she’s still grieving.

Can Diesel do the one thing he could never do on the track and take it slow?

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Tuesday Jones was feeling both grateful that her toast as maid of honor was behind her, and that her orange bridesmaid dress looked remarkably better under the muted ballroom lights. Heading for the bar, because one glass of champagne clearly wasn’t enough, she veered at the last second to the dessert table. She was supposed to meet Evan Monroe, the man who had been smart enough to marry her best friend, Kendall, and throw her a big old wedding reception four months after their impulsive elopement. When Evan had commented during dinner that women couldn’t do shots of whiskey, Tuesday felt it was her duty, orange dress and all, to stand up for her gender.

But first she wanted a piece of cake.

To coat her stomach for the liquor.

Or maybe just because she liked cake.

She had to admit she was feeling weird, happy for Kendall, but also like she still wasn’t totally enjoying herself. Like she couldn’t. Yet for the first time in the three weeks since her dad had died, she didn’t feel like she might burst into tears at any given moment, so that was progress. Baby steps. Little tiny almost non-existent baby steps, because there was nothing easy about losing her father. Death sucked. Grief sucked.

Grabbing a piece of cake from the assortment displayed on the table, she crammed it into her mouth on that very unpleasant thought.

And discovered that she had chosen the damn coconut slice, one of her very least favorite foods ever. There was good, there was bad, and then there was coconut. Her mouth automatically opening in horror, she looked around for a napkin, the flavor invading and offending every single one of her taste buds. Feeling like she might gag, she worked the cake forward with her tongue, debating just chucking it out of her mouth and into her champagne glass.

A hand shot out in front of her mouth and Evan said, “Just spit it out.”

She only paused for a second before depositing the vile waxy coconut hunk into Evan’s hand. “Oh, my God, thank you. That was so freaking gross-

Tuesday forgot the rest of her sentence when she realized that it wasn’t Evan next to her. It was Diesel Lange. Retired driver. The man she had cried on at her father’s funeral.

And the man she had now just spit chewed up cake into his outstretched palm.

Oh. My. God. She felt heat flood her face as she stared at him, trying to think of something, anything to say. “Sorry,” was the best she could manage. “I thought you were Evan.”

It was a lame explanation, but how did you really explain regurgitation onto total strangers?

His eyebrows furrowed. “Why would you think I was Evan?”

“Because I was meeting Evan.” Tuesday licked her lips, still tasting the coconut, still feeling like an ass. “I don’t usually just spit out food into random people’s hands, you know.” Food she realized he was still holding. “God, that’s so gross, I’m sorry.”


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Sunday, October 2, 2011

AFTER MIDNIGHT by Sarah Grimm

AFTER MIDNIGHT by Sarah Grimm

Can music heal a fractured soul?

Thirteen years - that's how long Isabeau Montgomery has been living a lie. After an automobile accident took her mother's life, Izzy hid herself away, surviving the only way she knew how. Now she is happy in her carefully reconstructed life. That is until he walks through the door of her bar...

Black Phoenix singer/front man Noah Clark came to Long Island City with a goal--one that doesn't include an instant, electric attraction to the dark-haired beauty behind the bar. Coaxing her into his bed won't be easy, but he can't get her pale, haunted eyes nor her skill on the piano out of his head.

Can Noah help Isabeau overcome the past? Or will her need to protect her secret force her back into hiding and destroy their chance at happiness?

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Excerpt:

“I’m not the type of woman men fall for.”

“I’ve fallen for you.”

Heat flooded her system. She forced herself to breathe, to keep her eyes locked with his. “No you haven’t. You …”

He pushed off the mantel and stepped in her direction. “I, what?”

“Never mind.”

“Finish the sentence, Isabeau.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then let me.” He closed the distance between them. “You were going to say I haven’t fallen for you, weren’t you? You actually believe him? That you’re nothing more to me than convenient?”

Her pulse throbbed thick and hard. Heat radiated off his body. The scent of him filled her head. She wanted, more than anything, to press herself against him and relive the pleasure of his mouth against hers. Instead, she lifted her chin. “Maybe.”

He leaned in close. So close his breath brushed across her lips. “You believe him, but not me?”

“You are here only temporarily.”

“Yes.”

“And I am just down the street.”

“I suppose.”

She ran her tongue over her dry lips. “So the whole thing does seem rather—”

“Don’t say it.”

“—convenient.”

Something dangerous came and went in his eyes. “Now I’m getting angry.”

His hands skimmed down her sides, slipped under her shirt and settled on her lace-covered bottom. Her breath went uneven. Searing need swarmed her.

“You want something to believe, believe this.” He pulled her into the solid ridge of his erection. She lost her concentration. “There is nothing convenient about the way I feel about you.”

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Saturday, October 1, 2011

EMBRACE THE NIGHT by Alexandra Kane

EMBRACE THE NIGHT by Alexandra Kane

John Groves is a professor of World History in Raleigh by day. But outside the world of academia, he uses his special talents as a telekinetic to fight crime as a member of PHOENIX.

Tatiana Yates owns a beauty shop in downtown Durham. After leaving the hot curlers and shampoo bowl behind, she releases the tigress within, running free in the forests around RTP. And ripping the bad guys a new one as a seasoned PHOENIX operative.

When the two are paired together to solve the mysterious disappearance of priceless artifacts from the North Carolina's Museum of History, can they fight their fiery attraction long enough to get the job done?

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Sam Richardson reclined at his desk in the security office, feet propped on the oak desk top, arms folded behind his head. The night shift guarding the artifacts at the North Carolina Museum of History had never been exciting, but tonight he struggled just to keep his eyes open. A little excitement would go a long way towards helping him stay awake, but he knew it wasn't likely. Blowing out a  long breath, he tried to push his exhaustion away, but failed.
            He could feel his heavy eyelids sliding closed.
            WHIRRRR!
            The sound of one of the entry alarms blaring shocked him awake. Leaping to his feet, he studied the wall of monitors broadcasting the security camera footage. Gaze flicking from screen to screen, he stopped on the center monitor.
            With great confusion and raised eyebrows, he watched the glass case that held Sir Walter Raleigh's coat of arms shatter, without any evidence of it being struck. Then, he stared at the centuries old piece of fabric simply floated across the exhibit room, and out of one of the museum's side entrances.
            Plopping down in his chair, Sam ran his hand over his weary eyes. Then, he said aloud, "Either that really happened, or I'm seeing things. Either way, I need a new job."
            Within two hours, his supervisor came in to relieve him. Lauren walked into the office, black security coat slung over one arm, with her  bright red NC State Wolfpack mug in her other hand. Seeing the look on his face, she asked, "What's the deal, Sam?"
            He looked at the mug. "Had your coffee yet?"
            She nodded. "A few sips. Why?"
            He moved to the devices that stored the digital security footage, and rewound the data  to the point when the alarms went off. "Take a look at this," he said, gesturing to the monitors."
            Then he sat back and watched her react to the footage.
            Eyes glue to the screen, she dropped her coffee mug. The plastic clattered on the linoleum floor, the dark liquid pooling around her feet. She didn't even notice. "Holy shit, Sam. What the hell was that?"
            "Your guess is as good as mine."

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