“More than well.”
He kissed her cheek, the soft brush of his lips setting her face as aflame as the bonfire in front of them. Vaguely, she realized that both men had moved behind her, their shoulders touching, to better support her. Ah, now, if they would just touch her… If she could strip off her clothes, fall to the ground with their bodies entwined with hers…
“To the spring.”
Gunnhilda’s voice again. Sif shook her head, wondering what exactly had been in that cup. And had she given the men the same? If so, why did they seem able to stand on their own?
The walk seemed less of a walk than floating above the ground. Colors kept flashing in front of Sif’s eyes. The noises of birds flapping overheard and animals rustling in the brush felt amplified and strange. Her feet seemed to not feel the soil and grass under them. The hands that connected her to both men seemed to burn, almost scald.
They took the new path created to the spring and reached it in what seemed like no time at all. They stood, bathed in moonlight so bright that Sif squinted against the glare. It even reflected off the water, which seemed to double the glow. Imagination? Or some blessing from Freya?
Gunnhilda bowed to them, said one last blessing and retreated with the torch, leaving them alone before the goddess.
A night breeze, moist and crisp, blew through Sif’s loose hair. The breathing of the men beside her seemed loud enough to drown out all other sounds. Someone should move, do something, and it should be her but she didn’t know what should be done or how to break out of this trance.
“Goddess,” breathed Ragnor, and she couldn’t tell if it was a prayer or a curse word.
Her knees buckled and took her to the ground. The moonlight seemed to be pouring blessings into the spring. She reached a hand forward, cupped the water into her palm and drank. Liquid magic, bubbly, poured down her throat and into her.
The men followed her example and drank too. Gerhard threw back his head and screamed, equal parts anguish and challenge. In the forest, something screamed in return. Gerhard seized her shoulders and scrambled to his feet, pulling her with him.
He crushed her against him.
Fight alone, die alone.
Heroes Without, Monsters Within
© 2012 Sheryl Nantus
Blaze of Glory, Book 2
In the weeks since Jo “Surf” Tanis and her rough-and-tumble band of super-powered actors broke free of the government-sponsored superhero show, they’re all still dealing with the aftershock of adjusting to this thing called reality.
It doesn’t get much more real than a mission to dig survivors out of what’s left of Erie, PA after a mysterious earthquake. A trembler that powerful is as out of place as Jo feels as the de-facto leader of the troupe. Not to mention the soul-shaking feelings she has for Hunter, a team member whose past as an Agency Guardian casts a heavy shadow over any possible relationship.
It seems one of the supers, an earth-warper named Ground Pounder, has gone rogue, using his freedom from the Agency’s brand of virtual slavery to put the “villain” back in supervillain. Failure to find him before any more innocent bystanders are hurt means the team could be back under the Agency’s thumb.
It’s a burden that doesn’t rest easy on Jo’s shoulders…especially when the man who’s invaded her heart is caught in the crossfire.
Warning: Contains kick-ass super women, super men and a budding romance ready to go into orbit. Also, gambling and Las Vegas buffets!
Enjoy the following excerpt for Heroes Without, Monsters Within:
“Steve,” I yelled. “Protect the civilians.” I stayed in the air, not daring to let my feet touch the ground. Something was wrong with this attack. This was beyond what Lamarr could do. I just had to survive long enough to figure out what was going on.
“Yes, civilians.” Lamarr chortled. “Can’t let the little people get hurt now, can we?” He looked to one side and flicked his fingers. One of the large steel towers holding up part of the mammoth canopy overhead shifted, the bricks around the bottom of the support bursting like popped balloons.
“Son of a bitch.” I fired off double bolts from my hand as I charged the punk, alternating my shots. One electric bolt shattered the ground just in front of Lamarr, forcing him to stand up and retreat a step.
Steve leapt to his left, landing at the base of the support tower. He wrapped his mammoth arms around it and let out a rumbling groan as he embraced the tilting steel. The silver veins on his arms stretched and twisted, flowing over his skin with the neon lights bouncing off them.
A shout went out, a series of yelps. No, howls. I looked to my left to see a pack of mangy sandy-colored coyotes charging towards Lamarr, their yellowed teeth bared. They leapt up as I laid down another series of blasts, trying to cut off any retreat for the super without shooting the animals. Just one hit would affect him like a taser, short-circuiting his body and dropping the little bastard like a stone.
Of course, I had to hit him first. I swayed sideways, buffeted by strong gusts of wind that couldn’t be natural. It felt like being drunk and trying to shoot the target with the broken popgun at the carnival.
Steve groaned again as he pushed the leaning support down, jamming it past the original cement base. It wobbled for a second before steadying itself. It wasn’t a great solution, but it bought enough time for the rest of the civilians to get out of the way.
Lamarr crouched and pressed his right hand to the ground. A jerk of a finger yanked a stone wall out of the tiles to stop the coyote pack in mid-jump, the poor animals slamming into the barrier at full run. They fell in a dazed heap. One got to his feet and shook his head from side to side, mimicking my inner thoughts. A second later the coyote flew to the right and smashed into a display booth. Glass dragons and tigers crashed and shattered, the tinkling noise of broken glass adding to the mayhem.
Lamarr stood up and looked at me, a sneer on his lips.
“My ride’s here and my job’s done. Later.”
A roaring filled my ears. I spun around to see a small twister, a whirlwind racing down the center of Fremont Street towards me. It snatched up the vending carts, the loose billboards advertising CHEAP BLACKJACK, and garbage cans, whirling them around at a furious rate. Bits and pieces of debris crashed into the lit signs, poking out glass letters and sending sparks everywhere. The smell of burnt plastic grew as it continued its rampage.
“Steve.” I swooped down and grabbed the man’s right hand, pulling him up and away from the base of the pillar. The tower shuddered once but didn’t move. If we could get enough altitude and get clear of the buildings, we could avoid ramming the casinos. Steve had steel skin, but I knew I couldn’t take that sort of impact.
The raging winds slapped against me, making it hard to move upwards. I fought to stay in the center of the street, giving it all I had to avoid falling.
“What is that?” Steve yelled over the rising din.
“I don’t know.” I spotted the coyotes running away in all directions. Some limped and others were bleeding, but no bodies were left behind. I couldn’t imagine how guilty Peter would feel if some of them died.
Lamarr just stood there with an arrogant smirk on his face.
“He’s got something to do with this,” Steve said. His hand tightened around mine, almost painfully so. “Toss me at the little bastard.”
I nodded. We’d discussed this move before but hadn’t even practiced it, leaving it to later. Except that later was now, and there was no room for error. I fought to move forward and get closer to Lamarr. Steve swung at the end of my grip, readying himself to drop like a meteor on the super.
Lamarr glanced up at the approaching whirlwind with a look of reverence on his face. I lifted my other hand, preparing to take a shot at the grinning fool as I readied myself to release Steve.
Something caught me around the waist, a light soft touch that tightened to the point of pain, stopping me in midair. I gasped as I jerked to a stop, calling on my last reserves
of strength to stay airborne. Steve hung below me, still clutching my hand.
“Son of a…” Steve exhaled as the unknown force turned us both to face the oncoming storm.
A figure materialized at the center of the spiraling debris, staring at us. She couldn’t have been more than twenty years old, if that. Tall, blonde and obviously able to manipulate air. Her face spiraled through a series of emotions—fear, panic and for an instant I saw utter confusion make a showing.
I had no idea who she was.
Except that she was a super and not on our side.
My stomach did a flip-flop, threatening to return the creampuff et al in force.
The invisible rope around my waist shifted upward, pushing on my chest. It tightened and started to spin us, quick and fast. I remembered going through something like this before, skating on the local rink and being at the end of a long, long line of skaters, going faster and faster until the momentum snapped me off and away into the boards with bone-crushing force.
I thought about putting down some shots, but there was no way to guarantee I’d hit the woman instead of fleeing tourists. I couldn’t take the risk. Instead, I gritted my teeth and hung onto Steve, my hand lost in his mammoth grip.
The controlled spin stopped with a loud pop, sending us twisting away towards the ground.
The world whirled again with the same sensation as on the skating rink, but I wasn’t going to hit any wooden boards and skid to a stop on a sore and cold ass. A pair of strong arms wrapped across my back, pulling me into a tight hug.
“Hang on,” Steve shouted in my ear as he curled himself around me. He smelt of cigar smoke, whiskey and a bit of sweetness I recognized as cinnamon candy, just before everything went black.
Phoenix Rising
Corrina Lawson
He was born to be a weapon. For her, he must learn to be a hero.
Since birth, Alec Farley has been trained to be a living weapon. His firestarter and telekinetic abilities have been honed to deadly perfection by the Resource, a shadowy anti-terrorist organization—the only family he has ever known. What the Resource didn’t teach him, though, is how to play well with others.
When psychologist Beth Nakamora meets Alec to help him work on his people skills, she’s hit with a double-barreled first impression. He’s hot in more ways than one. And her first instinct is to rescue him from his insular existence.
Her plan to kidnap and deprogram him goes awry when her latent telepathic ability flares, turning Alec’s powers off. Hoping close proximity will reignite his flame, she leads him by the hand through a world he’s never known. And something else flares: Alec’s anger over everything he’s been denied. Especially the passion that melds his mind and body with hers.
The Resource, however, isn’t going to let anything—or anyone—steal its prime investment. Alec needs to be reminded where his loyalties lie…starting with breaking his trust in the woman he’s come to love.
Warning: Contains telekinetic sex, nuclear explosion sex hot enough to melt steel, and various and sundry swear words.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
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Phoenix Rising
Copyright © 2011 by Corrina Lawson
ISBN: 978-1-60928-548-7
Edited by Jennifer Miller
Cover by Kanaxa
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: November 2011
www.samhainpublishing.com
Phoenix Rising Page 30
