Hi all! I wanted to share that a new press has launched today, Etopia Press http://www.etopia-press.net/ and as part of the launch, I have a new contemporary M/M release, XAVIER'S WAY. Feel free to check out the site and see who else is launching with me today!
By Diana De Ricci LGBT (M/M) Contemporary Romance Novella: 34,090 words ISBN: 978-1-936751-04-4 Heat Level: 4 Warning: This book contains graphic erotic content (including male/male sexual content) which some readers may find offensive.
Jordan managed to maneuver his butt to find the chair. His heart was pounding from Xavier's handshake. Even with a table between them, it didn't matter. He'd felt the shock of contact all the way to the soles of his feet. The man was utter deliciousness. Thick black hair, the kind of hair Jordan loved to delve his fingers into, and oh man, those eyes. Golden honey in a jar. A kind of brown that melted or blazed. Or, if he was lucky, both.
"And you're a desperate bastard to be perving for a client," he castigated himself. A straight client. As though he needed to remind himself. But apparently he did need to. He'd never seen or met anyone as gorgeous as Xavier. Even though the man was straight, he was knocking Jordan for a loop.
Today he was wearing ass-perfect black jeans, a gray button down shirt, and cowboy boots. He must have been on-site yesterday when he'd come to talk to Patton. Today, he looked business sharp. Jordan drew a breath. Life was cruel in so many ways.
Pages and files lay on the lacquered table in front of him. He was there to audit the company to find where his missing income had vanished to. The least he could do was that, hopefully without letting on how much he wanted the owner of Stratler Homes. Xavier's anxiousness showed he needed this done quickly, and Jordan wasn't going to fail him on it. He couldn't make it personal. Drawing a breath, he settled in to do his job.
Three hours later, he walked out of the conference room toward the assistant's desk, a splayed file held in his steady palm. "Gynna?"
"Yes?" He peeked up and outward and forgot what he was going to say. Xavier was just walking through the door into the building.
"Jordan?" Gynna nudged quietly.
His head swiveled numbly on his neck, his mind a blank. Gynna dropped a glance to the file in his hand, and he knew he couldn't hide the heat in his cheeks.
Shit! Come on brain, say something! "Could I see the vendor files and receipts for Encapsilon and MatRix, Inc?"
"Sure."
Xavier lifted a hand, halting her rise. "It's okay, Gynna. I'll get them. And when you see Todd, tell him I need to see him."
"Can do." She wrote down Todd's name on a pad at her elbow.
"The files you need are in my office."
Jordan took the hint and followed Xavier. He captured a single groping stare of that hard ass, tight enough to bounce quarters off of, a mental treasure for later, then returned to the papers in his hand.
Xavier pulled out a long drawer from the lateral file against one of the office walls, then flicked over the name tabs. "Pretty much anything you need will be in this drawer or the one below. The last is a catch all."
He took the two files Xavier handed him with a quiet, "Thank you."
"Jordan," he replied absently, his mind still wondering about Xavier's ex.
"I'm sorry?"
He finally met that golden gaze and knew he was screwed. "Call me Jordan. Mr. Belten is my dad." It wasn't quite love at first sight, but Jordan knew it was the end of whatever hope he had for himself.
Author: Diana DeRicci
Cover Artist: Anastasia Rabiyah
Genre: Paranormal Erotica/Suspense/Vampire/Gay M/M
Length: Novella, 26,997 words, 75 Pages PDF
ISBN: 978-1-936165-74-2
Release Date: 12-1-2010
Heat Level: Erotic
Warnings: Violence, Gay M/M
Other Titles in this Series:
Draven's Crossing: Tempestuous Crossings Purple Sword Publications
All Romance Ebooks
From out of the darkness, a voice calls, luring one man into a battle of the unknown. Jackal has lived a well-guarded secret his entire life. A being of immense power, he understands and accepts the loss and emptiness of never finding a soul to love, yet endures because it is his only path. Eternal life means none who walk the earth could comfort him for long. The only one who could understand his plight has lived for just as long: a vampire. Taken by surprise and tortured, Kristof’s agony pulls Jackal to him in the dream realm, forging a bond that is unexpected and unexplained. But now that they’ve connected, will the darkness that hunts all para-kind in Draven’s Crossing destroy them?
Excerpt:
Chapter One
Time. There always seemed to be time. Jackal flitted between dreams. In the surreal world of dreams, time was never an issue.
Until now.
“Who are you?” he murmured, his voice thick. He knew he was asleep, but he was being drawn irrevocably toward something.
A raw voice reached out to him. “Help me.”
Jackal frowned. His body felt sluggish. It was hard to move, like forcing his way through quicksand, or thigh-high swamp water, the silt sucking at his feet with each step. He was reaching for someone, of that he was sure. He cocked his head, listening. “Where are you?”
“Here. Please. They’re coming.” The male voice replied, plaintively filled with wave upon wave of pain and exhaustion.
He froze, his heart racing. Jackal hadn’t expected a literal answer. He’d never received one before. “Where are you?” he demanded, now getting worried. Anxiety made his words sharp. “What’s your name?”
“Kristof. I can hear you.” The words were dragging, confused. “So tired.”
“Don’t speak.” Jackal intensified his thoughts, forcing himself above the suck of the dream weave. Further disembodied, he floated, coursing through time and space. He’d had plenty of dream excursions, but no one had touched him as intrinsically as this voice. Something dire and desperate waited beyond his reach, needed his help. He knew he had to answer.
Soon, images began to form out of the swirls of his dream. Buildings. Street shapes. Sounds. A world at night.
Cautiously, he landed on a sidewalk. The chill of late night filled the air, hazy stars glinting overhead, as though seen through a thin gauze sheet of clouds. “Kristof?” The sound of his voice was a whisper between his ears. It shook him to his soul that this being was reaching for him.
A roar of pain almost threw him completely back into his own body. Staggering where he stood, Jackal shook his head. This was not normal. He could hear them, but never had a dreamer heard him, or responded, trying to reach out for him. It was almost as though he were being pulled in this direction by sheer will. Steeling himself to move forward, he let the fading tremors of pain guide him. Kristof couldn’t speak. A sense of connection lurked between Jackal’s soul and this man’s subconscious. It was the most the other man could manage, and for even that, Jackal was sure Kristof was hurting because he had to stay cognizant for the thread to remain.
It didn't come because of man's inhumanity to man. It didn't come from bombs, or plague, or even from aliens descending from outer space. In fact, no one knows what triggered it. And even if they did, there was no way to turn back time.
Only one thing was certain. One evening the sun had grown unexpectedly bigger and hotter, and heat and radiation unlike anything ever experienced washed over the Earth, bathing it in searing rays that devoured over three-quarters of the world's population.
Now the sun is smaller, and it doesn't radiate as much heat as it used to. The world is colder. Food is scarce, and people are fighting to stay alive.
Andrew Michael Tollson, aka "The Silent Wraith", was a man who roamed from settlement to outpost to city, offering his protection from scavengers and renegades. Years ago, right before the sun had exploded, when he had been a boy growing up in a small Texas town, he had felt his first crush for the little tomboy he knew as Jo. Now, as a grown man, he has finally made his way back to his boyhood home to see if Jo is still alive, or if she has been a victim of the Apocalypse. He has to know if the dreams and memories he has harbored were mere fantasies, or if the infatuation he'd felt then has grown into something else, something stronger and more tangible.
JoBeth Wythe was a member of The Triad, three leaders who protected their little settlement, and tried to recall the carefree days before the Apocalypse. All they wanted was the chance at a decent life, with enough food, some shared warmth, and a little hope for the future. She had never forgotten the pudgy little kid who had followed her around when she was growing up, the little boy she called Mikey. Every time she thought of him, it only brought back pain and a wistfulness for a past that no longer existed.
For Drew and Jo, it was only a matter of time before they would be reunited to fight together. To survive together. And to discover that the innocent kisses they had shared as children had grown into a love that would overwhelm them with desire.
Warning! Contains permanent extreme cold, love everlasting, survivalists, separation, a legend in the making, a brutal mass murder, forever friends, loss of virginity, and the end of the world as we know it.
There’s something for everyone: vampires and shape-shifters, steamy love stories and sweet Christian romance. Join us at Puffabelly’s restaurant in Old Town Spring, 100 Main Street, Spring 77373, on Saturday, December 4th from 12 to 3 pm. Each author will be signing books and/or giving out free promo items!
A stranded wolf. A cougar shifter to the rescue. Can the magic of one Christmas cure both their pain and loneliness?
Exhausted and injured, Jason is driven as a rogue wolf right into the arms of Lyndon, a man that by all he knows, he should never reveal his heart to. Yet when patience and compassion prove size can hide the heart of a gentle giant, a wounded Jason begins to heal. And to love again. EXCERPT: Snow fell in thick-flaked flurries, the windows iced in the corners in splintered patterns. Christmas carols played in random order from the CD disks Lyndon had inserted in the stereo. He loved the traditional carols, Bing Crosby being among his all time favorites. No one could croon like Bing, Lyndon thought. The evening grew dark with early night, and he sat in his favorite rocker reading in front of the fireplace. He’d learned to dismiss the derision at appearing like an old man because of his holiday habit. No one else had to know, and honestly, no one else did. Since his father died, he had no family to see, and doing more for Christmas than the small tree in the corner and enjoying the calm quiet when he was snowed in, just didn’t appeal to him. But then again, most cougar shifters were solitary people to begin with. They didn’t congregate at huge family reunions. They were family oriented, but more of a nucleus family, not the in-laws’ cousins’ fourth removed and the subsequent divided tree limbs of family. Tilting his head, he closed his eyes, catching the woeful howl of the wolf pack. Their songs bounced over the snow, keen and clear. He listened until it faded, then like a loop, started again. Except, their howls had changed, became hard, aggressive growls. He sat up. That wasn’t like them, and they sounded very close. Standing, he set the book in his hand on the mantle and walked to peer out his window. Limping out of the trees, he saw the blurred form of a wolf, hobbling. The howls started again, and this time it was a hunting cry. He knew the poor creature on the snow was the harried game. Grabbing his heavy jacket by the fire, he leaped into his snow boots, strapping them down, listening to the wolves’ cry. He darted through the house, leaving by the side door of the mudroom, circling back around, searching the tree line where he’d seen it. Gray dusk made the snow seem even thicker as it fell, but he could just make out movement yards ahead of him. The animal had stopped, though streams of steam proved it still lived. He didn’t recognize this one from his studies, and he’d catalogued over forty-five different wolves in the local packs. His home, an old look-out cabin, sat nearly on the border of their two territories, so every now and then, he actually could watch both, but for the most part, they avoided each other’s land. Cutting through the snow, he listened, the howls coming closer. His hands were beginning to chill, and he stuffed them in his pockets, his fingers digging, but coming up empty. No gloves. He remembered. They were on the shelf drying out from his last foray outdoors. Couldn’t be helped, he was halfway to the panting animal. Gray eyes focused on him as he neared. It didn’t attempt to escape, it didn’t snarl, and it didn’t become defensive. It laid there. Studying it as he drew closer, he knew this one wasn’t one of the wolves from either pack. He could also see what the problem was. A bloody paw was packed with snow and debris. “Poor baby,” he murmured. “Found an old trap, didn’t you?” Cautiously, he eased his way forward, its gray eyes staying focused, yet its demeanor never changed. His brow furrowed. “You can’t be a wild wolf. You’d have tried to take my head off by now. I hope you’re not a release wolf that hasn’t found his footing.” He’d have to radio the conservation center when the storm blew over to see if this one resembled one of their release wolves. A snarl whipped his attention over his shoulder. Three sets of eyes. Pissed off eyes glared at him. He growled low in his chest, hissing. The wolves were completely confused, tails in the air, full battle gear locked and loaded. Not turning his back on the three, he crouched and gently lifted the animal from the cold snow. It hung limp as a rag in his arms. “Definitely not wild,” he breathed, the words forming as clouds in the bitter cold. “All right, let’s see what we can do about your foot.” He had to take the chance to turn away from the watching trio to get back to the cabin. Golden lights soothingly glowed through the frosted glass window in the front. The wolves that had been chasing his cargo stayed behind in the trees, sharp snaps and punctuated growls voicing their displeasure as he took away their game. “Too bad.” But they didn’t follow him. The wolf’s forefoot was a mess. With a glance, he hoped it was really only packed and not badly injured. It would be a shame that a release wolf would have to be reclaimed because of an injury like this. Nudging his way into the mudroom, he used a shoulder to secure the door then laid the wolf on a pile of summer rugs. It whimpered once as its body settled. Gray eyes closed. Taking a quick inventory, he realized there wasn’t a tag on this wolf anywhere. Hm. Not a release wolf? He stood slowly, still being cautious with the animal, but it seemed absolutely unconcerned with its eyes closed, resting, to anything Lyndon might do. He slipped from his jacket and hung it on the peg near the door, doing the same with his boots, ready for him on the floor. Now, he was definitely curious and concerned about the wolf before him. Not a release wolf, but way too docile to be a wild pack wolf. Lyndon couldn’t remember any like this one, ever. Kneeling, he lightly touched it, waiting for a reaction, but all it did was open its eyes. “You aren’t wild, are you?” he asked quietly. “Is that why they were chasing you? Because you’re not wolf?” It raised its head with a jerk, startled eyes sharpening and focusing on him. “Thought so. You don’t have to shift if you don’t want to. I know it’s uncomfortable when you don’t know where you are, and the injury won’t shift well with you. If it helps, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m a researcher. A cougar shifter with an affinity and divine love of wolves.” He smiled warmly. “Okay, before I talk you to tears—casualty of living alone during the winter—let me see if we can get your paw cleaned up.”
Dali Bowman has a secret desire, one that she’s already witnessed her closest friends discover for themselves. When Rex Adkins and Gage Hall come into her life, she likes what she sees, and is willing to take the chance. On her terms.
Rex and Gage have been friends since high school, as close as brothers in almost all aspects of their lives, from the secret they both share to the craving they have to find a woman that will complete them as a family. When Rex and Gage meet Dali, the attraction is instant. The confusion is their wolves’ muted interest. Are they wrong? Is Dali the one woman for them?
When they take away Dali’s freedom of choice, she runs, slamming the door on them and their advances. Can they salvage their chance or has their impetuous behavior cost them more than either could imagine?
EXCERPT:
“Is that a good bet?” Rex asked her. Music played in the background as the bar had filled with Thursday night customers and couples, the insides getting decidedly noisier. The other two tables were being played now too, so she had to stay kind of close to Gage and Rex. Not that she minded. And now, he’d made a bet.
Dali’s heart raced. Two kisses. Or two men running their hands all over her. She tried to find moisture in her mouth. She’d gone bone dry. Her stomach fluttered, heat oozing to settle between her legs.
“I’ll take it.” It was a win-win for her. Rex flashed a smile that could only be deemed as predatory. “One condition,” she cautioned. He stopped circling the table, waiting. She walked up to him and Gage followed her.
“No matter the winner, later or outside, but just not here. I’m not an exhibitionist.”
Rex actually sighed his way through a tender laugh. “Dali, we’re not animals.” He cupped her cheek and held her for a moment, his thumb stroking her. It was just as well that he’d made the bet. It was getting late enough that she needed to get home. The last dose she’d taken to stop her sneezing wouldn’t last for much longer, and she still had an antibiotic to take. She’d been proactive and made sure there was something she could take with the meds if she’d needed, glad now that she had. She wasn’t about to sniffle and sneeze the whole evening. She couldn’t wait until the antibiotics did their thing, and she could feel normal again.
Dali went to return to her spot when Rex let her go, and she flattened right into Gage’s chest, unaware he’d been right behind her. His arm swept around her naturally. “Easy, darlin’,” he said gently at her ear. His breath was warm, smelling faintly of the beer they’d been drinking. “There’s something you should know.”
She tried to swallow, but it was a wasted effort. “What?” she managed. Her lungs had ceased to work. His arm was strong and gentle at the same time, holding her upright, which was good. She was too close to melting to the floor again.
“Rex and me, we take good care of our woman.” His thumb lifted, stroking right beneath her breast, his nail dragging seductively across the bottom of her bra. Her body tightened and ached, throbbing for more, for touch. Woman. One. She knew she hadn’t misheard him. Liquid heat spread, reaching to between her legs. She spasmed, aching.
Rex stood, frozen, watching them, his eyes glittering like blue flames in the bar lights. The world around them vanished with that spark of desire burning in his blue eyes and Gage’s hard body enveloping hers.
Dali’s heart thrummed, the entire process taking no more than a second to dissect. She hadn’t been misreading them! Both of these men wanted her. It sent her heart careening into her ribs for several seconds as lust and desire washed through her.
She knew Jason, her boss and the owner of the health club where she worked, and Victor, his oldest friend, shared the woman they both loved, Leesa. Those closest to them knew their idiosyncrasies, and Dali had been friends with Jason and Victor for a long time and had more than one opportunity to hear about Leesa’s happiness while at work. Dali also knew she’d never be more than friends with either Jason or Victor, but they’d opened her eyes to something. She wasn’t what most would call normal. She didn’t crave the same things most women did.
Well, maybe she did. She wanted a man to look at her like he couldn’t live without her. She wanted a man to respect her, protect her, cherish her. But what she wanted physically, couldn’t be done with just one man. She needed, desired, and hungered for two. Two men to love her body, to please her as she could pleasure them. What Jason and Victor had proven could be done, she wanted. And it looked like she wasn’t alone in the wanting.
Leaning relaxed into Gage’s chest, she dared, “Make your shot, Rex.”
His jaw twitched and he laughed. “Minx.”
Wine, art and romance all in one place? What's not to love? Join Texas Romance authors Missy Jane and Teri Thackston this Saturday at the Vintage Park Harvest Festival. Both authors will be signing books and offering free gift wrapping at the Wrap up Romance for the Holidays booth.
On Saturday, November 6 from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m., Vintage Park, a lifestyle shopping center in Northwest Houston, is partnering with HEB Vintage Market and Go Texan to bring the community a spectacular event that celebrates the season with food, wine and art.This family-friendly event will feature a kids zone with tons of fun activities and an artist alley showcasing local and regional artists and craftsmen.
Find directions and more info here.
-Missy Jane
*Make reading a guilty pleasure...* www.msmissyjane.com
A past she never knew, a debt never paid. Will it cost her life, and her heart?
Jessica Harden has lived her adult life raising and protecting her son. Except her surprises have been lying in wait. With the inheritance of her own business, her ordered life begins to experience the darker side of her ex-husband's history, involving secrets and money. And someone in the shadows knows about both.
An excerpt from the book
"Jacob, don't forget your book bag," Jessie called over her shoulder from the kitchen. She shot an anxious look at the clock on the wall to find they were both cutting it close.
"Got it here, Mom." Jacob rushed into the kitchen, grabbed his lunch, and stuffed it into his bag. Watching his total disregard for the poor sack, she knew instinctively his lunch wouldn't resemble food in four hours.
"Did you finish all of your homework?" She screwed the cap onto the juice, and placed it in the refrigerator. She frowned, noticing he hadn't buttoned his shirt all the way again. She wondered if other parents had problems getting their children to dress themselves. Had to be a teenager thing.
"Yeah, all done. Don't worry, Mom. The essay isn't due until the end of the week." He gulped his juice in seconds, then tossed the cup into the sink. She saw him make a final, searching look before he whipped around, rushing to catch the bus.
Jessie planted her hands on her hips and tilted her head. "Hey mister, forgetting something?"
Jacob turned, a bashful hue tinting his cheeks. With a quick kiss to her cheek, he made good on his escape.
"Don't forget to tuck in your shirt!" Jessie yelled after him.
She smiled at his disappearing back, knowing with a mother's intuition her words would be ignored. The slam of the door echoed through to the kitchen. Going nothing to ninety. She envied his constant energy, and not too secretly either.
Jacob was an incredibly smart young man, at least in her eyes, although twelve wasn't considered as young as it might once have been. So much more was expected of kids today, far more than she could remember. She was glad he had some good smarts to work with. If Jacob kept his classes in order, and kept his grades up, colleges would be looking for him instead of the other way around. It was a promising prospect for her son's future, which made her very proud of him.
The two of them were a good team. They both had a say in whatever happened in their world, although when necessary, she did take the 'Because I'm the mom' stand. Even then, she took the time to explain the whys if she could. All they had was each other, so their relationship had to be understanding if not equal, as much as possible. It showed in Jacob's maturity. She was always receiving end of year notes from his school teachers praising him.
She flipped the switch to the light in the kitchen and made her way through the house. She remembered when she'd bought the three-bedroom house, not long after her divorce from Arthur. It wasn't large, but it was permanent. It exuded that homey feeling she remembered from growing up, a feeling of family. It held a certain appeal she had immediately felt drawn to. There was a warmth in the house, almost a calming quality. It was the perfect house for her when she needed a home to give a stable life to her and Jacob.
The sunlight beaming into the kitchen was what had sold her on the cozy home from the beginning. The way the light shone through the windows over the sink had seemed so perfect, bringing back those moments from her childhood that she'd wanted to impart on Jacob. The bright arcs of yellow warmth scattered across the floor, and late into the day they would almost reach the counter across the table's width, giving it an enchanted feeling bathed in that glow. She'd fallen in love on the spot.
She'd needed the security the house offered her when Arthur relinquished any rights to her life, the day she caught him in their bed with another woman.
Once upon a time, there lived a man with five rambunctious daughters. They were an average American farming family except for one minor detail. The man was a warlock, and all of his daughters were witchlets—half witch and half human.
Rick Carr and his friend Booey came to Toppers Cove seeking employment at the seafood plant. For Rick, it was a chance to try and re-establish roots on the eastern coast, hoping to make a life out here. He never expected to meet someone like Kimberly Blakeney. One glance, and he knew he was falling in love until he discovered that she was a witch. A real witch. But despite that revelation, his feelings didn’t change.
The only problem was, before he could sweep her off her feet, he first had to pass what she called a “sex hex test” to prove they were meant to be together. Rick didn’t mind, but what he didn’t realize was that his best friend wasn’t about let him fall under her spell...even if it meant taking drastic measures.
RHEA 41070
Erotic Sci-Fi Romance Novel from Whiskey Creek Press Torrid
(ebook) ISBN# 978-1-60313-838-3
(print) ISBN# 978-1-60313-947-2
Word Count: 64.1K
Bock Gammon was a freedom runner. A man with a space ship for hire. He had heard of Replacements and knew they existed, but he had never personally come across one. In fact, he found the whole idea repugnant--growing a living being specifically for the purpose of harvesting his body parts. So did the governments in many of the galaxies who declared Replacements illegal.
Which was why he was stunned to discover his latest assignment was to bring a Replacement to one of the wealthiest men in the Chatta Dul system. If he hadn't so desperately needed the money, he wouldn't have accepted the job.
It didn't take long for Bock to realize that Rhea 41070 wasn't just one-of-a-kind, she was also unlike any woman he had ever met. And the closer they got to the point of delivery, the more he knew he couldn't just walk away and leave her behind to be dissected. He had to somehow find a way to save her, despite the odds and hundreds of well-armed men awaiting their return.
Warning! Contains mutilation, idol worship, twisted old men, blackmail, apathy for human life, black market medicine, a shootout, a taste of the good life, and more gold than you can shake a stick at.
YEARS ago, I had a dream about Jack Bauer. Terrorists were coming and we needed Jack and he wanted no part of it. (Who could blame him?) In my dream, a kick-butt heroine kidnapped him and convinced him he was needed.
Then I woke up. And for a couple of years I tried to work that dream into a story. I don’t remember where I came up with the idea for Africa, except that it seemed dark and mysterious. Two movies provided me with my character backstories: Clive Owen’s Beyond Borders, about a doctor who ended up providing intelligence (among other things) to the CIA while working in dangerous parts of the world, and Bruce Willis’s Tears of the Sun, where an Army Ranger (I think) tries to rescue a village from warlords in Africa. I gave my heroine Clive’s backstory, with a lot more motivation, and Del has Bruce’s, with a less cheery ending.
Instead of Jack Bauer, I used Gerard Delaney, circa Reign of Fire, as the model for Del, and Evangeline Lilly (Kate from LOST) as the model for Liv.
This book took a long time to come together, and was inspired by many different things, but I’m very pleased with the final result.
If you write, where does your inspiration come from? If you’re a reader, do you like hearing about how inspiration strikes?
My first book with Carina Press, my first western historical is available today! I'm really nervous and excited, though it's already gotten a good review.
I got the idea while teaching Texas history to my 4th graders. We were reading about Jane Long, the "Mother of Texas." She'd been abandoned at a fort near Galveston, widowed, with only her servant and her child, and to frighten off the Native Americans and pirates in the area, she'd fire the cannon every day. I thought that was so cool. I'd never wanted to write a historical before but this one wouldn't let me go. See if it sounds like something you'd want to read:
Kit Barclay followed her husband into the wilds of Texas only to be widowed. Stranded with her mother- and sister-in-law to care for, with no hope of rescue before winter sets in, Kit has only one goal: survival. So when a lone horseman appears on the horizon, and then falls from his mount in fever, Kit must weigh the safety of her family against offering aid and shelter to the handsome stranger.
Trace Watson has lost everything that ever mattered to him. Trying to forget, he heads to the frontier colony of San Felipe, not caring if he lives or dies. But when he wakes to discover he's being nursed back to health by a brave young widow, he vows to repay her kindness by guiding the three women back to civilization, no matter what the cost.
Soon, Kit and Trace are fighting the elements, Indian attacks and outlaws—as well as feelings they both thought were long buried...
By: Diana DeRicci | Other books by Diana DeRicci
Published By: Purple Sword Publications, LLC
ISBN # 9781936165520
Word Count: 29995
Heat Index
Available in: Adobe Acrobat, Palm DOC/iSolo, Microsoft Reader, HTML, Mobipocket, Rocket, Epub Read More
About the book
Dario Acardi has enough stress in his life. His family is hounding him to marry, his father wants him to take over as head of the pride, and his cousin needs to borrow the car. All he wants is a little peace.
Narrowly escaping another engagement his uncle deems as an "appropriate" showing for the coming heir of the Taja pride, he chaperones his cousin and date to the State Fair. The obvious problem is they don't want a chaperone and leave him in the dust to find his own entertainment. Except he finds himself standing behind a curvy brunette, and suddenly both he and his cougar are pacing like wild animals.
Sheridan Donovan is nursing a bruised heart and her brother and friends are driving her crazy with their coddling. What stung wasn't the break up. It was her ex's immediate engagement to a skinny friend.
But now that a certain cougar has decided she's the woman he needs, Dario has to convince her that what she believes isn't true at all. That size isn't what rules the heart. And perfection really is in the eye of the beholder.
An excerpt from the book
Blood pulsed like a roaring river, ramming through his body. He couldn’t remember a single time when he’d ever felt this hot, this hungry for a woman. She was turning him into an inferno of need.
“I’m going to tell you every single fantasy I’ve ever had, baby.” He licked at the seam of her lips and she melted into him. Rising on her toes, she pressed her body against his groin. Dario moaned through the sensation of her body rubbing over his.
“You didn’t even tell me the first one,” she replied, a laughing, teasing lilt in her voice.
Guiding her into the one room he hadn’t visited yet, he didn’t bother turning on the light. “Sweetheart, if I get that one fantasy tonight, my heart may not survive the shock.”
Lashes fluttered. “Oh. Now that does sound like a challenge.” The drag of her fingers snaked under his shirt again, and he chuckled. Then she was tugging it free of his jeans waist. With a little help, the pullover vanished beyond his shoulder.
Within minutes, they’d managed to strip each other bare, except for one little article that left Dario speechless.
“A thong?” His beautiful woman wore thongs? He couldn’t believe it, but there it was. A silk triangle smaller than a handkerchief.
She giggled self-consciously. “They make me feel sexy.”
“Sheridan, if you were any more sexy, I’d incinerate.”
Her eyes widened, her immediate answer being to shake her head. He gripped her between firm palms. “Never again. I mean that.”
Confusion dampened her excitement. “After. We’ll talk later. I need you now, baby.”
With his mouth devouring hers, he urged her backward until the edge of the bed stopped her. “Where are they? I’m not getting out of this bed for anything.”
“Nightstand.”
He grinned. “Hallelujah.” Then laughing at her startled chirp, he toppled them both to the bed, catching her in his arms. Rolling her beneath him, he began to drop open-mouth kisses across her collarbone. When he reached the harried beat of her pulse in her neck, he suckled the erratic pounding between his lips, scraping his teeth over her before pulling hard on the skin. She arched and groaned like a winter wind, a low howl that made the hair on his arms stand up. He’d never heard that sound, never heard it come from a woman. He shuddered as the timbre faded.
Morgan Aiza is tormented by a dream seductress, a woman who has haunted his dreams like a nightmare, but leaves him craving for a completion he's never known--and has never wanted. When Fate steps in and his dream woman literally runs right past him, Morgan is determined to prove he has no need of a wife, or a mate.
N'Rea Gordon has been alone since she was a teenager, moving and hiding, but from what she's never really admitted. When Morgan appears and offers more of himself than any other person in her lifetime in the name of compassionate aid, she is compelled to fight the attraction and help tooth and nail.
Trouble is hounding him, and evil is stalking her. From the gates of the Renaissance Faire where Morgan is granted an honorable knighthood, to the very doors of the family, they are stalked by an unknown danger. To survive and to acknowledge the deepest trust either have known, they are going to have to face the ultimate good versus evil struggle.
Together.
Prologue
It was the dream, the merciless attack on his sleep Morgan couldn't avoid. Unconscious, he craved it, though he silently decried it and its meaning when awake in the light of day. The nameless goddess had plagued Morgan for over a month. A woman of uncommon beauty, with eyes the color of the darkest green, like the dew-kissed nettles of a mountain fir tree. Helpless in his sleep, he tossed restlessly as the image of the woman enthralled him, made his blood sing, creating sparks of flaring desire that never really faded.
Within the hidden secrets of his dream, the silken sweep of her lustrous hair seared his thighs. The long ebony tresses defied its own darkness, glinting a red and gold fire in the full moonlight slicing into his room, as though there were flames hidden within the heavy fall of midnight. A wild, untamable fire flowed through her, moved with her. Even in a dream, the surging heat lingered under his skin, everywhere she caressed and teased him. He tasted it in the air. When she moved, her hair swayed with a scalloped motion, a natural wave that called out to him to touch, to worship. He followed it hungrily, feasting on all of her like a starving man.
This woman had become an enticement, a temptress of unfulfilled desire as he slept. She beckoned to him, calling to him not by name but by a word—mine. The one word was all she ever said, a seductive whisper winding over his ear, a sultry sound that made him ache and reach for her.
His goddess would appear slowly, only her eyes, as if his vision were panning out, opening wider to enjoy her completely. Her features focused until he could see her entire face, smooth fair skin crowned with the full, rich midnight and fire of her hair. Delicate features, high cheekbones forming to a lush mouth, parted with the promises of passion. She glided over him with a graceful presence as he hungered for the next moments of the dream. After so long, he knew what to expect, and she didn't fail him.
Her body was long and lean, supple hot flesh, arching and writhing beneath his fingers. She brought the same burning hunger he carried when she invaded his dreams. Long red nails, sharp but purposely teasing, brought him to a fever pitch, stroking, holding, tempting. The sensations were electric, tightening his skin until it was almost painful to breathe. He never questioned her weight as she rose over him, taking him deep inside of her heat, like a velvet caress. It was a dream but it was so good. She would cry out and he would moan in pleasure as they met, the length of her hair singeing the heated skin of his thighs with her rocking movements. He quivered when she raked his stomach with her nails, her green depths blazing with possessive ecstasy, daring him, challenging him. Demanding he fulfill her every wish.
Morgan would exist in his dream, fall into the between world of real and make-believe willingly. Regrets would be for later, when he lacked sleep and the cold stab of deception mocked him. Right now, he imagined every word, every caress, every desire he knew he wanted. Desires she wanted from him, that together they wanted to share. Her cries filled his ears, her spine bowed tight, moonlight streaking over luscious breasts like a beautiful offering to the gods. Rocking over him, he would revel in the fire burning between them. Smooth skin would flow like heaven beneath his fingers, heat roaring up his arms to settle in his chest with every caress.
Until he couldn't take any more. Until he was thrusting his hips, dying to feel her rapture. Needing to bury himself inside her silken sheath, wrapped intimately by her. An ecstasy in itself.
Morgan awoke, snapping straight up in bed, the images crystal clear in his mind as his body finished what had started in the dream. He groaned thickly as a fierce orgasm ripped over him, his hips clenching in release unable to stop the result of her nightly visit. Clutching cool sheets in shaking fists, snarling his frustration with a loud echo into the dark room, his head reared back at the cruel misleading vision of passion.
Because he was alone.
The green-eyed vixen who had tortured him for over a month was not there, and never had been.
He tore the twisted, sweat-soaked sheets away from heated, naked skin, the keen disappointment like a scorching, stabbing knife. A heated blade he was familiar with and wished he weren't. Rising, he stalked to the open window of his bedroom glaring out into the unforgiving Oregon sky.
His heart pounded behind his ribs. If he breathed deep enough, Morgan could find the scent of her skin, of her heat surrounding him. On him. He gripped the window mercilessly, wanting to throw his head back and howl with rage.
None of this made sense to him. Morgan had never met the woman of his dream. There was no name for the goddess of seduction who came to him with an unerring nightly appearance. A woman who tortured him with an unbelievable body and a voice that spoke of promise and pleasure. With one word, she invited him. With only one word, she seduced him. Every night.
He breathed deeply of the late summer air flowing over him, the cooling breezes of the night's darkness soothing his stressed sex. Gradually, his reaction to the dream faded. His tensed muscles relaxed until he could stand at his full height without animalistic need clawing through him, without the desire to be sated spearing him with a viciousness never experienced in his lifetime. The breeze entering his home through the window danced over cooling skin, teasing shoulder length black hair, raising a ghost of the sparking touch he had yet to experience, yet knew too damn well regardless.
Morgan was the last of the four. Roman, Selene and Brooke were all either married or bonded. He was the lone wolf, remaining single by choice. His head sank forward a fraction, his gaze unfocusing as adrenaline continued to resonate through his blood with the hunger of his unsatisfied sexual dreams. He wasn't disappointed that of the women he'd shared an occasional interlude with, none had met his long term expectations or his deepest desires. What did bother him was this unknown vision who tempted him, drawing him into a world of seduction and sex, every night.
Since her initial invasion of his dreams, no other woman had raised even a whisper of attraction or appealed to him. Even the thought of slackening the lust with another woman was impossible. Any woman other than his dream induced siren left him cold and disinterested.
His seductress was mystery, desire, hunger, and maybe something more he couldn't put a finger on. Something that called to him almost as strongly as her voice and scent, a hidden element that he knew he recognized but couldn't place. And with just a dream, she could make him experience things he'd never felt wide awake and in bed with a flesh and blood woman.
Needing to escape the torment of his dream, Morgan stepped away from the wide window and called the heat of the change. Craved the rush of blood, the changed tempo of his heart pounding in his ears. He needed the change like a dying man needed forgiveness. The lupine form standing within his room a moment later was as well-known to him as his own human one. Anyone in his family would have recognized him.
He leaped through the window with a fluid movement, sprinting into the starry night. His long, harried gait carried him miles into the woods where he slid to a stop in the complete stillness, breathing heavily, trying to leave his misery behind, and knowing he failed. He let out a long, piercing song hearing the reverberation of his voice combined with the echo of nature. Gradually, peace calmed his erratic pulse, though he knew it was only temporary, until he slept again.
For nearly thirty-two years, he'd lived a contented life, living and sharing with his family and pack, having never really sought out his own mate. Never compelled to be proactive for the one woman who would be his.
Diana Castilleja|| Diana DeRicci Stop Copyright Infringement! Do not download illegal copies of books. This is theft right out of the pockets of authors. His Redeemer's Kiss || Print New! Unbound Trust || Coming Soon! Crowning A Warrior King || Print Aiza Clan Shifter Combo 1&2 || Print The Eternal Kiss || Print
Morgan Aiza is tormented by a dream seductress, a woman who has haunted his dreams like a nightmare, but leaves him craving for a completion he's never known--and has never wanted. When Fate steps in and his dream woman literally runs right past him, Morgan is determined to prove he has no need of a wife, or a mate.
N'Rea Gordon has been alone since she was a teenager, moving and hiding, but from what she's never really admitted. When Morgan appears and offers more of himself than any other person in her lifetime in the name of compassionate aid, she is compelled to fight the attraction and help tooth and nail.
Trouble is hounding him, and evil is stalking her. From the gates of the Renaissance Faire where Morgan is granted an honorable knighthood, to the very doors of the family they are stalked by an unknown danger. To survive and to acknowledge the deepest trust either have known, they are going to have to face the ultimate good versus evil struggle.
Together.
An excerpt from the book
Morgan glanced up from his plate to find both his sisters waiting expectantly. "I'm sorry. Did you say something?" he managed to mumble around the mouthful he chewed. He swallowed the chunk of meat, wincing as it slid to weigh heavily in his ungrateful stomach, and waited for the coming storm. Selene waved an impatient hand at him. "See? That's what I'm talking about. He's oblivious to the entire world." Facing her brother, she placed a hand across her growing abdomen. "Morgan, you've been in a serious funk for weeks. What's going on?" He shrugged, setting his fork beside his plate, avoiding his sisters' contemplative gazes, glancing at his dinner with longing instead. Somehow he didn't think he'd get to eat more anytime soon. "I don't know. Nothing I can think of," he replied innocently. Too bad Bram and Mitch had stepped outside for some brotherly bonding when they'd finished dinner. Morgan felt outnumbered two to one. Selene's gray eyes flashed at him with irritation, her brow taut with her frustration at his answer. Morgan knew that stare. He had the exact same storm-gray eyes, just as capable of slicing a person in two. She'd learned it from him. Maybe too well. "You're lying. You never used to," Selene scolded coolly. "Maybe he needs a change of scenery," Brooke suggested with a teasing pitch in her voice. Morgan didn't think so, but he knew her exuberance usually meant something he wasn't going to enjoy. He waited to be proven right. "Hey, I know! Mitch and I are going south for a couple of weeks. There's a Faire we wanted to wander through before he starts with the fire department here." "A Faire?" Morgan echoed with a sour burn. Yep, just as he suspected. It might have been his dinner making that ache in his stomach, but he doubted it. "Why a Faire?" Brooke's whole face lit up with the idea of a new adventure. "Something different. Malls are boring. It's near Sacramento, I think. Autumn is right around the corner. It'll be beautiful with all the trees. Summer days and cooling nights," she told him. "Call Roman," Morgan suggested with a firm 'no thank you' tone. "Oh, come on," Brooke cajoled with a winsome smile. "It could be fun." "It could also be the most nauseating time of my life," he muttered. "I don't want to go." "Morgan," Selene said with a sharp undertone. "You need to do something. You've been haunting the woods like a damn ghost for weeks. You're restless." "So? Since when has it ever mattered?" He didn't restrain the cold chill in his tone. He didn't need his sisters needling him over this. Selene drummed her fingers over the table in a rapid rhythm. Morgan knew she was aggravated with him, and he wasn't making it any easier on her. She was seven months pregnant with Bram's child. Except for the annoyed frown she wore between her brows, she glowed with the pregnancy. Both his sisters did. Brooke was barely six weeks pregnant herself. Brooke and Mitch had returned from Belgium a few days before after a stay with Aunt Jerry. Except for the absence of Roman and Delilah, the quadruplets were at Selene's for dinner. It was a regular gathering, and silently, he wished he could have missed this one. Selene's voice lowered with anxiety for her brother. "You may be the oldest Morgan, but we do have the right to worry about you." Her face smoothed, her hidden concerns out in the open. "And right now, I'm worried." He controlled the black thunder pulsing under the surface of his skin, raking over sensitive nerves, the urge to snap painfully close from too many restless nights spent first enjoying, then suffering, his dream seductress. His sisters weren't the meddling types, but being family, both were more than capable of getting under his skin. He tempered the impulse to a simmer with deliberate effort. His lack of sleep wasn't their problem. Brooke leaned toward him, pulling his attention in her direction. "I know we're going," she said, her brow twisted with her own worry. "We put a bid on the old Victorian on the outside of town. Mitch wanted to be closer to town than this for his shift duty. We've got a lot of work ahead of us if we get it, and I'm looking into the vacant corner shop off Main to open an apothecary. So this is probably going to be the extent of our travels for at least a year." She rose from her seat at the table and settled a comforting hand on his shoulder, her warmth flowing over his soul. "If you want to go, you're welcome to come with us." She started to leave but peeked at him with a devilish grin. "And before you ask, we're driving." She gave him a big wink and left them sitting at the table, vanishing through the front door to go outside to join Bram and Mitch.
If you havent gotten your room yet YOU NEED TO DO SO! We are almost sold out of our room block! If you want the 109 price GET YOUR ROOM RESERVED TODAY!
Also, we have decided to pseudo open registration for people that live close... Info is as follows:
AAD is closed to weekend registrations. If you would like to come for the day, Tickets can be bought at the door for 35$ a day and include goodies (while supplies last). Meals and editor appointments are not included.
Tickets are bought between 8am and 10am at the registration table.
Masquerade participation ONLY is 25$ at the door. Tickets are sold at 8pm to 9pm at the registration table. This doesnt include goodies, books or giveaways, but All that come for the masquerade in costume are eligible for the awards!
Please spread the word.
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Diana Castilleja
Diana Castilleja|| Diana DeRicci Stop Copyright Infringement! Do not download illegal copies of books. This is theft right out of the pockets of authors. His Redeemer's Kiss || Print New! Unbound Trust || Coming Soon! Crowning A Warrior King || Print Aiza Clan Shifter Combo 1&2 || Print The Eternal Kiss || Print
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