DARK DESIRE by Shannan Albright

DARK DESIRE by Shannan Albright

Dark Breed Enforcers Book 4

A destiny he can no longer deny - Being heir to the throne of Atlantis is not all it’s cracked up to be. Especially living under a world-altering prophecy he is powerless to prevent. Ze’Kerhia, simply known as Zeke, must now return to a life he walked away from in order to save a friend. Forced into a marriage to a woman he never met.

A brutal betrayal - One look at Laris Raail and Zeke knows he’s in trouble. He is captivated by her stunning dark beauty and grace and completely unprepared to find a dagger buried deep in his heart by the hand of his new bride.

A deadly plot revealed - After seven long months of searching, Zeke finds Laris. He's unprepared to find his wife has no memory of her past or even her name. Caught in a plot so treacherous the dark breeds and humans alike may be unable to prevent the war it would spark. It’s up to the two of them to reveal the traitor in their midst.

Can they survive long enough to prevent the slaughter of innocent lives? Or will they perish before revealing who is behind a plot to enslave the world?

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Excerpt:

He barked out a harsh laugh, his words laced with venom as his lip curled into a sneer. “There is no such thing as a peaceful Lemurian. You are all killers. It’s in your nature to war and take what you want by force. Leaving nothing but devastation and ruin in your wake.”

She really didn’t know what to say to that one. His hate chilled her skin, the air so thick with his animosity she could barely pull in enough air into her lungs. The room closed in on her making her head swim. She needed to get away from this madman who just told her he had every intention of killing her.

“I’m just a damned stripper.” Her voice shook with fear and desperation. “Please let me go. I won’t call the cops. Just let me go … please.” The words didn’t come easy to her, nor did the fear she felt coursing through her like icy sludge threatening to immobilize her.

“Save it.” He bit out, his face as hard and implacable as stone. “You just don’t get it, do you? Nothing you say will make a damn bit of difference. Your ass is mine, and I alone will decide how long you live and how much pain you exist in. Face it. You’re screwed, so save your breath.”

His movements blurred as he once again closed the space between them and gripped her arm, tugging her through the living room and down a hallway, and past several closed doors along the way. He opened the last one on the right, shoving her into bedroom. Nothing but a bed, white walls and old battered dresser adorned the room. An old brass pot stood near a wall, but it was the chains attached to thick metal manacles bolted to the wall that made her heart stutter within her chest. Her throat dried up as terror on a level she never knew existed took hold of her with unrelenting force.

A scream bubbled out of her throat as he shoved her back against the chains. She fought with every ounce of strength she possessed, kicking and clawing at his unprotected face and throat, but he proved too quick and jerked away from her in time. Her nails only caught air.

He snatched one wrist, attaching the cuff, then the other, effectively subduing her arms. Her foot slashed out, but again he maneuvered out of harm’s way by simply stepping back. She struggled to break the manacles, the chains only giving her a few precious inches of freedom.

“Let. Me. Go.” She snarled the demand feeling anger rise deep inside, burning away the paralyzing fear from only moments before.

“I don’t think so. You can scream all you want. This room is soundproof.” He shook his head and walked to the door.

“Wait, what am I supposed to do if I have to go to the bathroom? You can’t just leave me like this.” She spat the words out, the taste of bitterness sharp on her tongue.

His gaze moved to the pot near her feet. “I’m sure you will find some creative way to relieve yourself. Not my problem.”

She shrieked, hurtling curse words at his retreating back and continuing long after he closed the door after him.

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CAPTURED AND SEDUCED by Shelley Munro

CAPTURED AND SEDUCED by Shelley Munro

House of the Cat Series

A shapeshifter and a wizard slugging it out, an alien world and a hell-horse...

Jockey Camryn O’Sullivan is an alcoholic on a downward spiral after the death of her husband. When aliens kidnap her, she’s both terrified and reluctantly fascinated by Ryman Coppersmith. She’s positive the weird attraction to her abductor is an anomaly. Something to ignore. She’ll train the aliens’ horse and they’ll return her home. Simple. There’s no need for sex or a stubborn male kitty-cat to replace the precious memories of her husband.

Murder. Betrayal. Banishment.

Feline shapeshifter Ry has experienced treachery of the worst kind. When his foster brother—the man who betrayed him—proposes a wager on a hell-horse race, the lure to clear his name is irresistible.

Camryn’s arrival triggers a jump in his already overactive sex drive. It’s a struggle to keep his hands off his beautiful captive. Something in his mysterious feline background compels him to chase her and the passion firing between them soars out of control. Ry doesn’t understand the mechanics of their attraction but knows he can’t afford to lose Camryn…despite his promise to return her home.

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Excerpt:

“This plan will work.” Yep pulled on his jacket and fastened it securely against the cold. “I feel it in ma bones.”

Kaya smirked at her crewmate, her chin-length blue hair swinging against high cheekbones. She tugged Yep’s ponytail. “Your bones are sometimes wrong. My research is, however, correct.”

Ryman Coppersmith, captain of the Indefatigable, ignored them both. He’d already made his decision. He intended to win the hell-horse race on Ornum or at least beat his brother Talor and win their private bet. By the time the race ended, Ry hoped he’d be on the way to clearing his name of murder charges. Talor knew the identity of the murderer, but for some reason had never spoken out, preferring to see Ry exiled instead. Ry scowled. He wanted to go home. He wanted to stride through the streets without fear of capture. He wanted to embrace his sisters and visit his mother’s grave.

It was time.

After research on Kaya’s part, they’d found the stud farm easily enough. They landed the tender in an empty paddock and emerged to the bite of an icy-cool wind and full darkness.

Ry sniffed the air before striding in the direction of the stud farm. Trees. Grass. Mud. Animals. Every breath he took contained a new scent. The needs of the cat jumped to the fore and a low rumble eased from him.

“Go ahead,” he muttered to his crew. “I will shift.”

He knew he sounded curt, but the urgent need to run thrummed through him, even greater than his desire for a woman, and that was bad enough. Blood surged to his cock, the sharp sensation painful and frustrating. No available woman and he refused to fukk any of his crew.

Kaya and Yep melted into the darkness while Mogens, who attracted attention because of his changeable skin color, stayed with the tender. Nanu and Jannike presently orbited Earth in the Indefatigable, hopefully remaining undetected.

After a deep inhalation, Ry ripped off his jacket and shirt and let the feline claim him. Trews and boots melted into his body, replaced by black fur. His bones lengthened and shifted, tendons and muscles reforming to the cat. His color vision faded, his surroundings turning to shades of black and white. Ry dropped to all fours and padded across the moist grass, long tail swishing.

As always, a sense of aggravation followed him. Ry knew nothing of his feline background, had never met another of his species. In one pain-filled evening, when he’d thought he might die, he’d turned into a black feline without warning. He’d yowled his panic so loud his shipmates had come running. Ry grinned at the memory. He’d scared them half to death. Although funny now, his unexpected shift into a powerful black cat had been bloody terrifying.

For all of them.

With help from Mogens, the man who’d become their seer and part of the crew, Ry had finally transformed back, bearing a new cat tattoo on his biceps as a souvenir and his shirt in tatters. Weirdly, his trews had survived the transformation. Talk about a learning experience. And he was still learning the foibles of his species. The not knowing scared him. It made him wonder if there had been something else inside the bag they’d found with him as a baby. As a child he’d asked, but his foster father had told him the bag contained clothes.

The low voices and footsteps of his crew were clearly audible. Ry twitched his nose and prowled after them, annoyed with their casual approach. A sharp feline bark reminded them to reduce the noise. Ry broke into a lope, savoring the play of muscles long confined in humanoid form. The wind ruffled his fur while mud splashed his legs and belly.

When he neared the center of the farm where the owners lived, white post and rail fences carved the land into paddocks. Ry leaped over the nearest, his heart pumping with the physical exertion. An animal snorted, springing into action and galloping from the spot where Ry had frozen in place.

A horse. The Earth counterpart of a hell-horse.

Ry crept along the fence line not wanting to alarm more animals or attract attention. Once clear, he sped up, muscles moving powerfully, every sense alert. Ry caught the rustle of a small creature in a hedgerow, the tentative neighs of two horses at the far end of a paddock. The chill wind continued to ruffle his fur, the heavy moisture in the air indicating impending rain. Great. Ry hated to get wet. His pace increased to a gallop as he followed the track running between the paddocks.

Ahead, light bled from behind screened windows. According to the information Yep and Kaya had uncovered, the trainer lived with his wife and child. Ry regretted any anguish the trainer’s departure would cause and had penned a note, explaining the situation to his family. Hopefully the Earthlings could decipher the universal language. Ry slipped into the shadows and stalked closer, every sense alert for danger.

A cough over to his left grabbed his attention. Ry stilled, whiskers twitching. The sharp tang of sweat and unwashed body caught the back of his throat. The cough sounded again. A figure staggered from a dim-lit porch and wove to the rails of the nearest paddock. Ry’s tension eased. The trainer. He recognized the coat the man wore since it appeared in the photo Yep and Kaya had found during their research on the flight to Earth. A lucky break.

Ry padded closer, placing himself near enough to watch without giving away his presence. He needed to wait for the crew to move into position for the snatch to go smoothly. The man appeared short, about Kaya’s height, but solid. His reek said he didn’t care much for personal hygiene. His stench didn’t bother the horses. Two plodded over to him and one nuzzled his shoulder. The man smoothed his hand over the glossy neck. The other horse nickered. The man stroked it and the creatures moved away. Soft footsteps dragged his attention from the man.

Yep indicated the man with a jerk of his head. “He waits for us to extract him and take him on the adventure of his life.”

Ry stared, unable to see much despite his superior eyesight. The man wore a cover over his head, obscuring his features from sight. Ry’s nose twitched at the objectionable odor coming from the man, the air thick with liquor fumes.

Yep seemed to sense Ry’s doubts and sought to reassure. “The man’s a champion trainer,” he whispered. “Nanu and I attended the races two cycles ago. This man trained five of the twelve winners. Several place getters. Man’s natural with the four-legged creatures. Hell-horses should respond to him in the way same.”

And if they didn’t? Fukk, he hated this planet.

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DEVIL UNDER THE MISTLETOE by Sam Cheever

DEVIL UNDER THE MISTLETOE by Sam Cheever

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

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

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

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Holidays Are Hell: Devil Under the Mistletoe
Sam Cheever
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Sam Cheever
This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

"Fuck you."

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

"Real men don't wax their balls."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No muss, no fuss.

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

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

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

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

The assembly chuckled darkly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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DAMNED AND DEFIANT by Kathy Kulig

DAMNED AND DEFIANT by Kathy Kulig

Book 3 in the Demons in Exile Series.

Mortal women surrender to Dante’s seductions. He is a Drone, an immortal who feeds off their lifeforce energy—the chi that keeps his kind alive. When his dimension is on the edge of destruction, Dante must seek the help of one special woman.

Haley Moore is a Sha Warrior—a mortal with excess lifeforce. She’s always been drawn to Dante. When they meet again he thinks luck is on his side—his quota of chi energy would be obtained after one scorching scene with this mortal. The problem is that he is overwhelmingly attracted to her and once with this woman won’t be enough.

Haley tries to draw out the man buried deep within the demon. Their fierce, undeniable passion unravels his plans and threatens her life. But Dante is destined to leave Earth forever. He must choose whether to return to Prygos or give up his immortality and share his future with Haley.

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By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site. An Excerpt From: DAMNED AND DEFIANT Copyright © KATHY KULIG, 2012 All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc. Prologue The skinwalker—part man, part coyote—shifted into his human form as he gazed upon the young woman, his quarry. She removed her clothes and dropped them onto the cool, desert sand. She gave him a lustful glance as if she was the one controlling the seduction. “Nice trick with the coyote. Are you a magician?” Her words were slurred. But the trance hadn’t taken hold. “Something like that,” he answered. He felt a flush of heat on his face. How the hell was she still aware? Something wasn’t right. This Kithra was different than the others, and he wasn’t sure why. He slid his hands over her arms and sparks skidded across her skin. “I love the desert at night,” she added as her eyelids flickered. The air around her body crackled with electricity, her short, blonde hair stood out from the static. Not his usual choice for Kithras. He preferred ones with long, dark hair like the Drones from Prygos. It had to be her level of energy that drew him to this one. “Yes,” he murmured, then waved his hand over her face, deepening the trance with little effort. He extended a finger and ran it down the side of her cheek, her neck, between her small breasts and cut diagonally across her flat stomach to her narrow hips. When his finger skimmed close to her pubic area she shivered and moaned. She was a slight creature with an athletic build. He preferred his Kithra to have a few more curves but she would provide adequate chi for his needs. Pointing to the blanket, he smiled when she complied and stretched out on it, her arms and legs spread. Dante Akanto gave her a knowing smile, stepped back and paced around the naked woman. He watched her hands slide over her breasts and rub her pussy. “Fuck me, Dante.” She writhed on the Navajo blanket, deep in the sexual trance, almost ready for the offering. A rush of hot, sexual sensations surged through him and his cock hardened. No! He had to fight his urges or he’d risk killing her during the collection. Beside her, a campfire blazed, keeping away the night creatures of the Arizona desert. She moaned, teasing him with her sultry movements and her scent. The look she gave him made him ache with a desperate hunger. The woman’s sexual appetite could yank her out of the trance if he wasn’t careful. Dante swirled the energy field around her, easing her deeper into his spell. Her eyes glazed over. Better. Finally, this Kithra was becoming receptive to his influences. Her energy level was high and hard to manage. Probably a Sha Warrior. Lucky for him to pick a mortal with so much lifeforce. He’d meet his quota after this collection. Moving over to his Harley, he removed the rest of his clothes, cowboy boots, leather pants and hung them over his bike. Naked and fully aroused, he stood over her and stroked his cock. The woman was quite beautiful. Was she purposefully downplaying her appearance by wearing worn jeans and a baggy T-shirt? What struck Dante the most was her eyes. Large and golden brown, they shone with intelligence, but also appeared dark with despair. Like a polished jewel that had lost its sparkle. He sensed a toughness within her, a fear maybe, brought on by a life of tragedy or loss. Don’t get personal with your quarry. He’d seen her walking along the highway alone. Young, attractive, fearless and carrying a backpack. A traveler? Homeless? He didn’t know. She was the perfect Kithra or quarry. She accepted his offer for a ride, with a little telepathic influence on his part, and he’d driven her out into the desert. No one would see them here. She’d laughed when he’d swung the bike off the road, heading into open desert. While he made a campfire, she’d taken his Navajo blanket from the saddlebag and spread it out by the fire. Now naked and in trance, he craved to take her as a mortal man would take a mortal woman, but he couldn’t. She didn’t need to be naked for the collection. And tonight it was making his task more difficult. Dante had to make his quota of human lifeforce energy to the demoness of Anartia. The immortals needed his offering to maintain their world. If he failed, he’d be replaced—destroyed—by Gwyllain, or her consort Tarik, the rulers of Anartia. The woman watched him with hunger and lust in her eyes. The need to climax was great. His cock ached. But he’d have to wait until the offering. Stay in control. The more he teased and prolonged her orgasm, the better the harvest of chi. She whimpered as she watched him work his cock. Straddling her body, he knelt on either side of her waist. Dante leaned forward and stroked her breasts, then eased his hand over her belly and between her legs. The woman sucked in a breath. The aura around her body told him she was close but he wasn’t ready to harvest her energy yet. As he rubbed her clit, cream coated her folds and moistened his finger. He plunged inside her pussy and shoved deep. She cried out, raising her hips off the blanket. The scent of her arousal was mixed with the scents of the desert—the earth, the sage and mesquite. He loved the desert, and he loved taking his Kithra here. The distraction of its beauty helped him control his own desire. “Fuck me or lick me. I can’t wait anymore.” She reached down and grabbed his cock and squeezed him. Damn, it felt good. But he pulled her hand away and pressed both arms above her head. He couldn’t risk having her touch him like that. It’d been so long since he’d had the pleasure to seek release with a human. Leaning forward, he brushed his lips over her nipple, then bit gently and rolled his tongue over the erect peak. He repeated the tease to the other nipple and she moaned in pleasure. “So good,” she breathed. “Yes.” He didn’t even know her name. No matter. She wouldn’t remember him after the collection. “Stay still,” he ordered. “Yes.” She nodded and stopped writhing but he still ached to drive his cock into her. A vibration surged through him as he prepared for the harvest. Opening his mouth, he held his lips close to hers without touching. She parted her lips as if anticipating a deep kiss and her chi energy flowed in a stream of light from her mouth into his. She cried out as the orgasm shattered her but he held her down. His cock throbbed and his balls tightened, his body tensed, aching for release as the chi energy rushed into him. Control, control. He had to slow down or he’d drain her. LIKED THE EXCERPT?? CLICK HERE TO BUY THE eBOOK

A WARRIOR TO LOVE by Marisa Chenery

Today on our Cyber Launch Party Blog, we're celebrating a new release in Marisa Chenery's popular Warrior Hunger Series with Ellora's Cave!

A WARRIOR TO LOVE by Marisa Chenery

Book four in the Warrior Hunger series.


After a disastrous blind date leaves Alexis stranded, she hits up a handsome stranger in the restaurant for his cell phone. She connects to more than the cab company. One look from him has her pulse racing and other notable body parts standing at attention. Their instant chemistry has her night making a turn for the better.

A Warrior of Anubis since 1920, Konner finds the loneliness of his life getting to him. And being celibate for the last five years certainly isn’t helping matters any. But the sexy damsel in distress stirs passions long buried. He has to have her—in his life and in his bed. She’s everything he’s ever wanted in his long existence. But the nature of who he is could end this love affair before he has a chance at forever.

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By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.

An Excerpt From: A WARRIOR TO LOVE Copyright © MARISA CHENERY, 2012 All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc. “I was going to suggest we do something else after we eat, like going to a nightclub, but how would you feel about going to my place? We can play some video games,” he said with a smile. “See who the better gamer is.”  Alexis had the distinct impression that if she said yes, playing video games wouldn’t be the only thing they would be doing. Not that that bothered her. She’d use any excuse to get someplace alone with Konner.  “All right. You’re on,” she said. “So what does the winner get?”  Heat flared in Konner’s eyes. “Anything they want. Within reason, of course.”  “Of course.”  Alexis would try her damnedest to be the winner. The thought of telling Konner to take his clothes off while she watched sent a flood of warmth through her body. Though ending up the loser would more than likely be something she’d enjoy as well. The way his gaze seemed to eat her up as he stared at her, Konner’s thoughts could be going down the same road as hers.  “Then we’re on?” he asked in a voice that had gone a little husky.  “Definitely. Just be prepared to get your ass beat.”  “You’re pretty confident you’ll win. You’ve never played against me before. I might be the one beating your cute ass.”  She gave him a smile. “We shall see.” Even though it was an offhanded remark about her ass, a thrill still went through Alexis to know Konner thought it was cute.  They finished the rest of the food. To speed things up a bit, Alexis packed in the chopsticks and picked up the rolls with her fingers. Konner paid their bill, and they were soon outside getting into his car.  When they reached the Southport Corridor neighborhood, Alexis realized Konner had never said what he did for a living. Whatever it was, she had a feeling it paid really well. That was proven correct when he pulled into the driveway of a majestic-looking Queen Anne house that sat on a large corner lot. The property had black wrought-iron fencing all around it. It also looked to be worth a fortune. Konner parked in front of a two-car detached garage and shut the engine off.  Alexis waited for him to come around and open the door for her. Konner seemed to be a gentleman that way, always opening and closing it. With a hand on the small of her back, he guided her to the double doors at the front of the house. Inside, they stepped into an entranceway that had mosaic floors.  “How big is this place?” she asked as Konner shut the door they’d come through behind them.  “It’s sixty-four hundred square feet.”  “That’s huge. I guess you don’t have to worry about feeling you’re running out of space.”  Konner chuckled. “No, I don’t. Come on. I’ll show my media room. That’s where I have my systems set up.”  He led her to a door that had a flight of stairs going down to what turned out to be a finished basement. Her eyes widened when she took in the catering kitchen.  “Someone could use this basement as an apartment with the kitchen and all.”  “I like my privacy too much for that, and I don’t need renters to pay for the place. Besides the kitchen and media room, I have a thousand-bottle wine cellar down here as well.”  She blinked. “A thousand bottles? You can’t have that many down here.”  Konner chuckled. “No, I don’t. The cellar is more for a wine collector, which I’m not.”  He led her to his media room. There was a large LCD television hanging on one wall with a thick-cushioned couch facing it. The entertainment unit sitting under the TV had two gaming systems set up on it and the shelves inside were filled with games.  Alexis sat on the couch as Konner walked over to the entertainment unit. “So what game do you have in mind for us to play?” she asked.  He selected one off the shelf and held it up. “This. It’s a shooter. Whoever gets the most kills during a match wins.”  “You’re on. Just to give you fair warning, I’m pretty good at games like this.”  Konner turned on one of the systems, then put in the game disc. “So am I,” he said as he took a seat next to her before he handed her a wireless controller.  As they played, Alexis soon found out Konner was as good as he’d said. He was definitely giving her a run for her money. She even wondered if she’d be able to beat him. Plus, it didn’t help that he sat so close their thighs touched. His body heat sank into hers, making her very aware of him. With each breath she took, she pulled in the scent of his aftershave and the one that was totally his own. Alexis found it hard to keep her full attention on the game, which caused her to make some silly mistakes that worked out in Konner’s favor. If he was as affected by her nearness as she was by his, he didn’t show it. And it sure didn’t seem to hinder his playing abilities, either.  But somehow Alexis managed to pull off the win in the last few seconds of the match. She let out a whoop as their scores appeared on the TV screen. The difference was only by one kill, but she’d take it.  “I guess that makes me the better gamer,” she said as she turned to look at Konner.  “Or you just were lucky,” he replied.  “Either way I still won.”  Konner took the controller from her, then stood and returned hers and his to the entertainment unit. He took out the game disc and shut off the system before he once again sat beside her.  “All right, winner. You can have anything you want. So what will it be?”  Alexis didn’t even hesitate. “You.”   LIKED THE EXCERPT?? CLICK HERE TO BUY THE eBOOK

SEA BRIDE by LaVerne Thompson

SEA BRIDE by LaVerne Thompson 

Children of the Waves

For two hundred some years Xavior, a child of the waves, has searched the seven depths for his bride only to find her on land. How could a landwalker be his Queen, the one destined to stop the wars among the sea tribes? But one touch and he knew he’d defy Poseidon himself to make her his.

Cori Daniels hated the water; she’d been on board the luxury ocean liner for two days and hadn’t left her cabin. But when she finally ventured on deck, she met a man who looked like a sea god and tempted her like no other. Could he tempt her to follow him into the depths of the sea?

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~Excerpt~

Xavior left the party and went for a walk around the boat, hoping to clear his head and maybe get a sense of this bride he needed to find. He’d ventured on land often in the last twenty years and met many human women over the years he hadn’t slept with, so he had no idea which one of these his bride could be. But if the tales were true, he would just know her, because he would be so drawn to her, the pull would be irresistible. After walking around for an hour he returned to their cabin, but too restless to sleep he made his way out to their private balcony.

The evening sky remained clear, the glittering points of light soothing, and the sea appeared calm, but he could smell a storm coming upon them. It would arrive soon from the east. Until it did, he would take advantage of the calm. Sitting back in one of the lounge chairs, he put his feet up on the railing, closed his eyes, and turned his face toward the half moon. A familiar clicking noise made him open them again. The shadows of dark fins in the water caught his attention. He stood up and placed his hands on the railing, watching the dolphins play as they swam alongside the boat. They spoke to him, wanting to know how his quest went. Did everyone know he was on a bride hunt? Of course they did. Not so good, he told them.

We’re rooting for you, Prince Xavior, young lord of the sea. She is right under your nose. Beware, though. There is a storm coming not of nature’s making. Good luck!

As one, all six dolphins leaped into the air in a salute to him before swimming away to spread the news that after over two hundred years their prince remained unsuccessful in finding his mate. He would be the first heir to lose the throne. Pathetic. What did they mean she was right under his nose? The sea witch was right? His bride was truly onboard? He just needed to have patience and he’d find her. But their words about the storm made him frown. Someone playing with the elements was never a good thing, and only one would dare. For the moment, he could do nothing about the white witch and her plots to keep him off the throne and continue the wars among the tribes. He had enough to concentrate on. He’d deal with her later.
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SOMETHING ABOUT WITCHES by Joey W Hill

SOMETHING ABOUT WITCHES by Joey W. Hill

Arcane Shot Book I

Ruby Night Divine is a gun shop owner. She's also a witch who knows magic can fail. She's experienced it firsthand, with full-blown tragic consequences. Smith and Wesson is a whole hell of a lot more reliable, and nothing's as cathartic as the ability to put a few holes in the things that piss you off. Like Derek Stormwind.

A powerful sorcerer, Derek is determined to get to the bottom of why she pushed him away and ran three years before. He also needs her help. A coven needs training to help them fight a demon and his minions. While Ruby is willing to do it, she's sure it's just a ruse to get back in her heart - and her bed. The thing is, that's where she wants him. Unfortunately, her bed's already made, she's this close to losing her soul, and she fears nothing can save her. Not Derek. Not even Smith and Wesson.

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Chapter One

Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn, and cauldron bubble. The Macbeth quote fit to a fucking T as Ruby stared through the four-power scope of the 50-caliber military grade sniper rifle and saw 100% trouble coming her way, complete with battered cowboy hat, his own Chris Cagle Chicks Dig It theme song and honest-to-Goddess dragonskin boots. How the hell had Derek Stormwind found her?

Okay, scratch that. She’d always known he’d find her. She’d just nurtured an unrealistic hope that he would be like most men and, once he realized she didn’t want to be found, and that she’d made following her trail a real pain in the ass, he’d sniff out easier prey. But Derek Stormwind was definitely not like most men. Which was why she’d rather be stuck up the backside of one of Artemis’s hunting hounds without a flashlight than face the next few moments.

Putting the rifle down on the counter, she uncapped a mini-sized vodka bottle and dashed the contents into her open Dr. Pepper can, then brought the soda to her lips for a healthy swig. Too healthy. She choked, hacking over the part of it that had apparently gone down the wrong tube. Meanwhile, he was crossing the street, seconds away from putting his hand on the brass doorknob and invading her store. Unless she was mistaken and he was in town for a French manicure from the salon next door.

Hell, she needed an extra moment. Flicking a glance down at her feet, she wheezed out the command. “Theo. Kill.”

The elderly mastiff erupted from behind the counter, a bulldozer of rippling muscle and sheer bulk that would have knocked her off her feet, if she wasn’t practiced at flattening herself against the ammo case behind her to give him take-off room.

As Derek came through the door, the dog was clattering across the floor like an approaching herd of marbles, making menacing and somewhat asthmatic noises similar to low level wheezing thunder. A froth of drool hit the display case, spattering the glass and obscuring the array of handguns there. Ruby stuck the soda back under the counter and pummeled her chest with one decisive fist at the same moment the dog launched his considerable weight onto his hind legs and hit Derek’s chest with both front paws.

“You great big baby.” Derek tried to fend off a tongue that Ruby knew was like a lukewarm and slimy hand towel. “Still a crappy security guard, buddy.”

He should look ridiculous, struggling with the dog, but of course he didn’t. He’d braced all that well-sculpted muscle against canine attack, which just emphasized the fit of his T-shirt over his broad shoulders. The way his thighs and ass flexed in his worn jeans basically screamed sex-in-faded-denim. The hat was low on his brow, hiding the brown hair he kept trimmed short. He’d not yet looked her way, but she knew what kind of impact those eyes had when they turned toward a female.

His handsome, shit-eating grin could disarm a woman at twenty paces. But every time Ruby looked into those dark blue eyes, the country theme segued quite decisively into the Khazad-Dum score from Fellowship of the Rings. She could hear Gandalf standing before the Balrog, thundering like the voice of God.

You shall not pass.

Her gaze dropped. Anyone else would think the scuffed-up dragonskin boots were some kind of alligator skin. He had a healthy reverence and respect for dragonkind, particularly the non-shifters. However, when she’d pressed him for an explanation of those boots, he’d simply said, “I had a disagreement with that one.” She’d caught a dangerous glint in his eye, the honor-bound sorcerer crossed with the gunslinger who’d only be pushed so far. She’d told him he was something between Merlin and Wyatt Earp. It had earned her a flash of that devastating grin.

He was one of the most powerful sorcerers she’d ever known, directly or by reputation. He flew so far under the radar that to most he was a myth, or a scary bedtime story. But she’d had him in her bed, and while the feelings he conjured from her there could be overwhelming, they were far from nightmarish. In fact, the only good dreams she had anymore were about him. Which just pissed her off. If she could have banished him from her mind without banishing other important things, things she couldn’t afford to lose, she would have. That’s what she told herself.

Pull it together, Ruby.

When he finally managed to shove the dog back down to all four feet, which put his gigantic head at the height of Derek’s waist, she had her hip propped against the shelf behind the cash register and was eying them both, hopefully with a faint trace of disgust in her coffee brown eyes. “I’m trading him in for a Chihuahua. The littler they are, the nastier they are.”

“Make sure it’s a female. I hear they’re even meaner.” He glanced up at the marquis. “Arcane Shot. Firearms, shooting range, safety courses and permits? A bit of a change from your previous career at Witches R Us outside Carmel.”

She shrugged. “I got tired of running a craft shop for the Wiccan wannabes, who think granola and hugs will change the world.”

“And this will do a better job of that?” He eyed the sniper rifle under her hand.

“Sometimes magic comes through, sometimes it doesn't. But Smith & Wesson is always ready to come to the game.”

“No argument there. I prefer a sawed-off shotgun myself. A classic. Took me awhile to find you. Your magic's gotten stronger."

And darker. She could tell he thought it, but points for him, he didn’t say it. "Told you I didn’t want to be found.” She tried to modulate the energy around her so it was more candy and flowers, less like the ominous stillness and yellow jaundice of a pre-tornado sky. Of course candy and flowers might make his already uncomfortable scrutiny go to full red alert status.

“So you ran away and decided to run a gun shop because...people suck?”

Her lips twitched. He knew how to pull a smile out of her, but this time she firmly told herself not to give him that advantage. “I didn’t run away, but that last part works. Why are you here, Derek?”

He seemed in no hurry on that score. He eased Theo back to four paws, sauntered up to the counter, giving her a nice eyeful of how the man could walk. Damn him. “I understand you followed Raina out here. She still operating her overpriced escort service with succubi and incubi in sheep’s clothing?”

“Still. It’s doing well here, with the military base nearby. Things were getting a little hot for her back on the West Coast. Soldiers are more adventurous, a little less afraid of danger, so her cover’s safer.” She flashed a humorless smile. “I think she’ll last longer out here.”

“She should change professions.”

“She would, but this one pisses you off. It’s a perk to her.”

“That’s a given.” He gave her his easy smile then. That good ol’ boy expression only enhanced the sexual confidence that made any wise woman wary. “I’m here about a job for you.”

The disappointment twisted inside her like a poisoned athame. She cursed at herself. Cerridwen, Circe and Cassiopeia. Female perversity was the bane of her existence. There was nothing more ridiculous than the fact she’d only wanted one thing more than him not to find her, and that was for him to find her. Now on top of that, she was feeling absurdly insulted that he’d come this far to find her merely for a job.


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FORGOTTEN LOVER by Zenobia Renquist

FORGOTTEN LOVER by Zenobia Renquist

Caveat Emptor Book Five

Captured by mages, Medusa is more upset at her own weakness than the mages' idea of torture. Once free of them, she plans to slaughter them all.

Except, there is one mage who awakens long buried memories of desire from a past best left forgotten. She knows this man to the depths of her soul, but she and Darius are on opposite sides of a war that has raged for centuries.

It's more than her heart at stake if she gives in to her desires.

Caveat Emptor -- Let the Buyer Beware.

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Caveat Emptor: Forgotten Lover
Zenobia Renquist
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2011 Zenobia Renquist

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


The charm's magic might be strong, but she'd seen Theron fight it. If his will could overcome it, then so could hers.

"Get away from her!" That command was shouted by another mage who entered the room. The mage threw power at Medusa's captor, tossing the man against the far wall.

Her captor righted himself and lifted a glowing hand at his assailant. "You dare attack me, Darius?"

"Quincy, you are an idiot." Darius gestured to Medusa. "Look at her eyes."

Medusa managed enough control of her body so she glared at them both.

Quincy stared at her in shock. "That cannot be." He shook his head as though that would make everything better. "The charm is active. She should be nothing but a doll."

"She would have killed you the second you touched her. Obviously your magic isn't up to the task of containing her." Darius held up an envelope. "I'm willing to take her off your hands."

"How much?"

"Well over what you would get if you sold her through normal means." He tossed the envelope.

Quincy held out his hand and beckoned, making the envelope zip over to him. He thumbed through the contents. "You think your magic can overcome everything. Your arrogance will get you killed. Have her, then. When she disposes of you, I will laugh at your stupidity and take her back." Quincy left the room.

Darius watched the man go before facing Medusa. He sighed and shook his head. "Come, vampire." He turned and walked away.

Medusa didn't want to follow him. The charm overrode her senses again and made her walk. Rather than waste energy she might need later, she simply allowed the charm to function. Once night fell, she would have more freedom. She would leave this place, killing as many of the mages as she could in the process. Starting with the mage she followed.

This mage was shorter than she was by four inches. That would make him about five foot seven. He was lean, but she didn't mistake that for weakness. The way he moved spoke of a body trained for fighting. A martial art of some sort, possibly. Most mages were soft from depending on their magic for everything, but not this man.

Martial arts training would mean he had speed. Medusa remembered the way he had arced power at Quincy. The spell had moved quickly, not even allowing Quincy enough time to shield. This Darius might not have vampire speed but he would be a formidable opponent if Medusa didn't time her attack properly.

Some primal part of her cautioned her to be wary. The man walked with his back to her, knowing she could fight the power of the charm. That had to mean he didn't fear that she might attack him, because he knew his powers could overcome any attack she launched.

She sensed none of Quincy's stupidity in this man. That was dangerous. Darius stopped at a doorway, opened it, and then stepped back, waving her forward.

She walked to the middle of the room and then faced him. Now what? Would he continue what Quincy had started? If that was his plan, he better do it quickly. She could feel the sun moving across the sky. The man had less than two hours before sunset. She had no qualms about killing him mid-coitus if it meant she would be free.

He closed the door behind him before stripping off his floor-length mage cloak. The thick, black cloth fell to the floor with a soft thud. Darius rolled his shoulders and then his neck as though happy to be free of the burden. He said, "Now then."

Medusa readied herself to endure as he reached toward her. He touched the charm nestled at the base of her neck. A surge of power shot through her body and then he stepped back. "There."

What?

Medusa lifted her hands. Her movements were her own. Her body obeyed her, and she hadn't had to wait for sunset.

She looked at Darius, instantly on guard. "What are you doing? What trick is this?"

"No trick."

"You're the idiot you proclaimed Quincy to be if you think your magic is faster than me."

"Attack me if it pleases you." He backed away from her and sat on his bed, giving her an expectant look.

She didn't trust his open invitation. It was a trick of some kind. He had a magical trap waiting that would damage her as soon as she neared him. "No."

He raised a questioning eyebrow and looked amused. "Really? Such a pity."

"Are you hoping for death, mage? Is that why you brought me here?"

"Death? No. I hope for something else entirely." He stood and walked over to her. "You would have been wasted on Quincy. I make a much better partner."

With a speed that rivaled her own, Darius grabbed her to him and laid his lips on hers. She stared at him, too surprised to pull back or push him away. He ended the kiss and smiled at her. "You are as sweet as I remember."

"What? I don't know you."

"How cruel of you to say you don't remember me. I remember you quite well. You were so shy in those days."

She pushed away from him then. "What are you talking about? What days?"

"When you were human, Medusa." He nodded at her wide-eyed shocked expression.

"My name. How do you know my name?"

"You told it to me."

"You're human," she whispered. "You cannot have known me when I was human. That was back in the eighteen hundreds."

"I am a mage, Medusa. Not only am I a mage, I am a mage lord. Immortality is child's play to me."

She could only stare at him. A distant memory tickled the edges of her mind. A memory from her time as a weak, subservient human who had cowered at the sight of her own shadow. She hated remembering those days. She wasn't that woman any longer.

But this man... His face triggered those memories.

Odd eyes, one blue and one brown, held laughter and mischief in equal parts. His brown hair riddled with streaks of blond and red brushed his neck and the tops of his ears. Not enough to pull into a ponytail but enough for a lover to run her fingers through.

Medusa knew the softness of that hair. It was like petting a cat. Hair so fine should never top a human's head. At the time she had thought he was some wild beast that had taken human form.

She stumbled back a few steps, not believing the direction of her thoughts. It couldn't be. The man she had known in the past was human. The man before her was human too. But he said he possessed immortality. If that fact had been true then as well...

She rasped, "Lord Arundel?"

"The same, sweet Medusa." He bridged the distance between them and pressed his lips to hers once more. "I will remind you of what you have forgotten."

One part of her fought against the memories his kiss invoked while another part reveled in their return.


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CAVEAT EMPTOR: ANGUISHED LOVER by Zenobia Renquist

ANGUISHED LOVER by Zenobia Renquist

Caveat Emptor Book Four

To save their love, Sicily may have to sacrifice her life.

Sicily has volunteered to put herself on the front lines in the vampires' fight against the mages. Lamon has no choice but to go with her to keep her safe.

When the worst happens, Sicily has to find out just what she's willing to sacrifice to save the lives of her lover and her friends.

Caveat Emptor -- Let the Buyer Beware.

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Caveat Emptor: Anguished Lover
Zenobia Renquist
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2011 Zenobia Renquist

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


Sicily ran her hand over the tall end table situated next to her front door. She had picked out the three-legged, faux cherry wood piece because it matched her living room set. It had been in her house for the last five years, and yet she felt as though she were touching it for the very first time.

Everything around her felt familiar. At the same time, it all seemed like it didn't belong to her. It was a disconcerting feeling she could only attribute to having been away from home for nearly three months. It felt more like an entire lifetime since so much had happened.

It had all started with Sicily's best friend, Ryver, who had decided to purchase a vampire for home security. The man ended up breaking his bonds of servitude and whisking Ryver away to vampire territory. Meanwhile, those left behind, namely Sicily, thought Ryver had been killed like so many other owners of vampires who had gone rogue.

Fear of Ryver being dead was put to rest when Ryver contacted Sicily asking for help freeing Theron, Ryver's vampire lover, from his magical restraints. That put Sicily in the path of mages who wanted Theron dead and had decided to use Sicily to do it. They put her under a puppet spell that Sicily had yet to break.

A small smile curved Sicily's lips, and she glanced over her shoulder at Lamon, Theron's second-in-command and her lover. Lamon was over six feet of bronze Thai goodness with straight black hair that fell to the middle of his well-defined back. He normally looked stern and imposing, but she had seen that chiseled visage crumble into one of passion.

She and Lamon had spent two glorious weeks trapped in a cabin with only each other as company. A wonderful two weeks filled with explosive sex the likes of which Sicily had never felt before, and she'd had her fair share of lovers.

"Stop it," Lamon whispered against her neck as he circled his arms around her waist and pulled her back against his strong chest.

She said in a low, coy voice, "I'm not doing anything."

He drew his nose up the curve of her neck and then licked her pulse point. "You are thinking naughty thoughts. Your body is radiating the smell of your lust around the house and distracting us from our task."

Sicily peeked around Lamon at the five other people who had come home with her. Vampires from Theron's own personal army. Each of the men ranked amongst the strongest magic users of Theron's people, with Lamon as the most powerful of them all. They had to be. Theron had charged them with the task of capturing the mages who had used Sicily as an unwilling pawn in the plot to destroy Theron in his home.

The five men concentrated on separate points around the house. They were doing something magical that Sicily didn't understand, but which amounted to a capture spell meant to trap the mages when they sensed Sicily's return to her home and came to investigate.

None of the men paid the least bit of attention to Sicily. She shifted her hips side to side, rubbing against the bulge that was pressed against her ass. "The only person I'm distracting is you."

"I'm the only one that matters." Lamon cupped her breasts and rolled his fingers, massaging her D-cups through her shirt.

A tingling ache started in her pussy. "We just got here, and you're already acting like this." She scolded him lightly because she wanted him as much as he wanted her. The dampness of her panties was proof.

"Which way?"

She pointed to the door at the end of the hallway. Her bedroom.

Lamon lifted her against his chest and carried her there in the time it took her to blink. He kicked the door closed before walking her to the bed.

She asked as he laid her down, "What about the others?"

"Ignore them." Lamon knelt over her.

"They'll hear us."

"I don't care. In few moments, neither will you." He made a gesture, and their clothing disappeared. Lamon looked over her body with a hungry gaze.

Sicily smiled up at him as she drew her fingers over one nipple. She asked in a breathy voice, "Not sure where to start?" She shifted so her thigh rubbed against Lamon's hard shaft. "It's always best to start slow with a big meal so you can enjoy it fully until the last bite."

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RETURN TO THE SEA by Rebecca Royce

RETURN TO THE SEA by Rebecca Royce

The clock is ticking for Laneigh. Banished from the ocean ten years earlier, Laneigh is shocked to discover all the Mer people living on dry land die within a decade of leaving the sea. With her life ending, she boards a cruise ship, intent on challenging the Mer who destroyed her life. She doesn't expect him to save her - but she has a request she is desperate he honor.

Hearing Laneigh's name on the wind, Sylarus, son of the Mer king, is powerless to stop himself from seeing her. Defying his father's edict, he rushes to meet the woman he's desired his whole life. But when he learns of her impending death, something shifts deep inside Sylarus. He cannot - will not - let her die.

Sylarus and Laneigh face tremendous odds to be together. In the end, they will either change Mer society forever or perish in the attempt. Can true love forgive after a decade of betrayals?

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~Excerpt~

“Then you are disobeying the edict for no good reason.”

Laneigh hoped her raised eyebrow let Sylarus know how she felt about his remark.

“You aren’t going to tell me why you’re here?”

Laneigh stared at the floor. “I would if I could speak past the lump in my throat.”

Some things had changed. Ten years earlier, she never would have admitted anything burdened her. But parenthood had taught her humility.

He stepped closer to her, and the distinctive aroma of the seawater on his skin drifted to her nose. In a kind world, she could have rubbed herself against him, letting the scent take hold on her own body.

“Did you come because you missed me?”

She stroked her hand over the side of his face. “Is that hope in your voice?”

“I have hope that after a decade of denying us both what we want, you’ve come to your senses and will apologize to the king.”

Exhaustion threatened to overtake her. She shook her head and dropped her hand. Beneath her fingertips had laid a day’s worth of stubble. Whoever was responsible for his care had let him get scruffy. “Your father will live his whole life without my apology.”

He sighed and looked down at the deck. “Then what is it?”

“I’ve come for you. That is true. But not for my own freedom.”

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LOVE BEYOND TIME by Rebecca Royce

LOVE BEYOND TIME by Rebecca Royce

The Outsiders Book One

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

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


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Excerpt:

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

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

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

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

Time had finally caught up with them.

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

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

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

They always had and he had hoped they always would.

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

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

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

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

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

He should have been paying better attention.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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