DARKNESS RISING by Alexandra Kane

DARKNESS RISING by Alexandra Kane

The Phoenix Files, Book One

City council secretary Lalah Norris is propelled into the center of a scandal. Born of two African American parents with the panthera trait, Lalah's a no-nonsense woman who, when she finds out about the money laundering ways of the city's assistant manager Dell Christopher, will risk her job to see him pay for his crimes. Little does she know, the loss of her job will be the least of her worries.

When she refuses to be intimidated by Dell's thug, she's kidnapped and locked away. Rescue comes in the form of a mysterious Chinese man, Junjie Yu, but Lalah finds herself being taken against her will for a second time. When the night is over, she's forced to join PHOENIX, a covert organization that assists law enforcement on the Federal, state and local level through the use of shifters, sorcerers, and all manner of 'gifted individuals.'

But which will be more dangerous: her new role in the secret organization, or her burning attraction to Junjie?

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~Excerpt~

Lalah awoke in a pool of cold, sticky blood. Her clothes clung to her like a slimy second skin, the metallic scent invading her nostrils. Corbin, Dell Christopher's thug, lay a few feet away from her, unmoving. His body was covered with claw marks, and a particularly large one traversed his chest beneath the jagged, ripped halves of his dress shirt. I must have shifted. Her head throbbed, and she cursed. If Corbin woke up, he would demand to know how she, a petite black woman, had suddenly been replaced by a ferocious panther. It wasn't a conversation she wanted to have.

I'm not a killer. But if I'm here when he wakes up, what choice will I have?

Sitting up slowly, she reeled from the crushing pain in her temple. The morning sunlight was streaming through the kitchen window, casting a very clear light on the grisly scene. Her cloudy mind, however, shrouded the events of last night from her memory. She stood, walking slowly around him, and crossed the kitchen to the foyer. As she passed her grandmother’s antique mirror, she saw her reflection and was shocked at the sight. Her thick mane of wavy black hair was a tangled mess. Small splatters of dried blood were on her cheeks, and there was a large purple bruise on her forehead. Touching it, she winced. That must be why I can’t remember.

This was short term memory loss, because she was fully aware of who she was... Lalah Norris, secretary to city councilwoman Gloria Phillips. She scheduled meetings, took phone calls, and pushed paper for the citizens of Fayetteville, North Carolina. Working in City Hall made her privy to the the conversations of other city officials as they passed her desk. Okay, she was eavesdropping, but with her super- panther hearing she really couldn't help it. That was how she knew that Dell Christopher, the assistant city manager, had his hand in the cookie jar. He was involved in several schemes, all of which involved stealing funds from the city's taxpayers.

From Lalah's conversations with the other assistants working in City Hall, she found out that his corrupt ways were common knowledge among the 'underlings', as they called themselves. None of them, however, was willing to risk their job by blowing the whistle on Dell. Now it looked like the politician was resorting to intimidation to keep his dirt swept under the rug.

She jogged up the carpeted stairs to her bedroom. I've gotta get my stuff and get the hell out of here. Her heavy breathing filled the silence around her as she stuffed a few tee shirts and underwear into a large purse. Her mind was jumbled with frantic thoughts of how this situation would play out. What if the neighbors had heard a noise? If somebody called the cops, Lalah knew she'd be in trouble. Wild animal attacks in North Carolina were rare...what would she say to them? No doubt they'd throw my black behind in jail like Mama throwing catfish in the deep fryer. No, there was no way she was waiting around here. None of the scenarios she could think of ended well for her.

Lalah was startled by a slow, creaking sound coming from downstairs. Afraid that someone would discover Corbin, she jogged down the steps and dashed into the kitchen. To her horror, he was gone. Only the pool of blood remained on the ecru linoleum in the place where he had been. Scanning the floor, Lalah noticed a few bloody footprints leading to the garage. She produced a heavy metal rolling pin from her tool drawer and slowly followed them out the side door. She descended the three stairs into the darkened garage, the rolling pin poised in swinging position.

A hand shot out and grabbed her ankle, pulling her down.

Her head hit the concrete floor and everything was consumed by blackness.

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JUST WHAT THE DOCTOR ORDERED by J.M. Snyder

JUST WHAT THE DOCTOR ORDERED by J.M. Snyder

Curt, a college professor, lives with his lover of several years, a pediatrician of Chinese descent named Lee. Eager to write, he receives a grant to take the summer off and work on a novel. Then Lee's mother calls -- she wants to visit. Curt is eager to meet her but Lee isn't so sure ... she's of a different generation, a different culture even, and doesn’t speak much English. Still, Curt insists.

But when Mrs. Gui arrives, Curt finds himself struggling with writer’s block. He feels like an outsider in his own home when Lee and his mother converse in Cantonese, leaving him out of the conversation, and even his sex life suffers with her in the bedroom next to theirs. Can Curt and Mrs. Gui move past their cultural differences to see that they both love Lee and have his best interests at heart?

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EXCERPT:
Note: may contain sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.



By the time Lee returned I was already relaxing in the hot tub, head back, eyes closed, clothes gone, the water warm and welcome on my bare skin. The plates sat on a towel I had spread within reach, the steaks done to perfection, the shrimp still sizzling on the skewers. Red wine winked in our glasses, the champagne saved for later. I had no intention of leaving the water until absolutely necessary -- I planned on eating right where I was, leaning over the side of the tub if I had to.

When I heard the sliding door squeal faintly over the soothing sounds of Kenny G's soprano sax, I let myself sink a little further into the water, until the bubbles tickled my chin. "Well?" I asked with a slow smile. I heard the solid thud of a belt buckle hitting the floor and opened one eye to see my lover undressing by the side of the tub. "That your mom?"

"Yeah." His pants bunched at his ankles as he unbuttoned his dress shirt. In the last of the sunlight slipping through the blinds around us, his skin took on an olive tone, dark and exotic. His hair stood up in defiant clumps as if he had run his hands through it again and again while on the phone, something he always did when he was nervous or upset.

That bedraggled look told me more about the call than the forced smile on his face or the worried look in his eyes. "Everything alright?" I asked, concerned.

Kicking away his pants, he shrugged off his shirt and dropped it at his feet. The cuff of one sleeve brushed over the wine glasses before falling away. "Fine," he told me, but the way he didn't quite meet my gaze told me he knew I knew better. He hooked his thumbs into his briefs and, with the complete lack of modesty only a seasoned lover could feel, pushed them down his legs. He stepped out of them and into the hot tub, the steam beading on his body like sweat as he sank down until the water covered his slim shoulders. "She's fine," he murmured, gliding towards me.

Beneath the water, I felt his hand on my knee. It slid up my thigh as he closed the distance between us, but I caught it before it could tangle in the kinked hair at my crotch. "That's dessert," I told him. He laughed and let me reel him in, and I kissed his jaw as he sat down beside me. I wanted to take his mind off whatever his mother might have said and get it back where it belonged ... on me. So with a nod at the plates, I said, "Your dinner's getting cold."

"Yours too." He swam around me and pulled the towel with our plates on it a little closer to the tub. I watched his hands as he cut the steaks with sure movements, even and unhurried. In their calm I sensed a guarded wariness as if he had something on his mind and didn't want to ruin my evening with it. "So," he said, the knife working effortlessly. "Now when people ask what you do for a living, you can say you're a full-time writer. No, full-time author. By this time next year, Oprah will be knocking down our door to get a piece of you."

I laughed. Sidling up behind him, I wrapped my arms around his waist and let my fingers play against his inner thighs. An inch or two higher and ... the steak he was so carefully cutting wasn't the only thing I wanted to swallow down. "She can't have me yet," I teased. Like two pieces of a complex puzzle, our bodies locked together perfectly, the cleft of his buttocks fitting nicely against my hardening shaft. I kissed the nape of his neck and tasted sweat and chlorine. "Tonight I'm all yours."

"Didn't you say this was dessert?" Lee asked, wiggling his hips back into me.

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