Unable to resist temptation, they’re consumed by passion…but once the fuses are set, their deepest personal secrets could blow any chance of forever all to hell.
Warning: This book contains a very lonely shapeshifter in need of some loving, a kick-ass singer leading a double life, a serious case of mutual lust, an arena filled with enslaved warriors, and so many secrets it can only end in total madness.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Clash:
Ace pocketed the pouch, turned on his heel and headed in the direction of the singer, who was now walking away from a stall and turned left at the next intersection of tables. He could smell her from here. That rich and striking vanilla scent she’d carried last night tickled his nose.
Ace quickened his pace, positive he was headed in the right direction even though this aisle seemed to be mostly empty.
He stopped and looked around.
She’d vanished.
Ace sniffed the air and continued on, following the vanilla trail. She had to be here somewhere.
“I can read your palm,” a crooked old lady called as he passed by a small round table with a crystal ball sitting on top. His shape reflected in the glass like a demented mirror.
“No, thanks.”
“What about your eye, or foot…how about your heart? I can read your heart.” The old woman’s smile revealed a row of tiny, pointy teeth. “Do you want me to?”
He shook his head and walked on. This aisle was probably empty because there weren’t any real wares, just readers. To accept a reading from anyone here would ensure death. When the old lady claimed she could read his heart, she wasn’t referring to romantic notions.
As he continued down the mostly empty path, a cry sounded from somewhere. He turned to look behind him and didn’t notice someone sneaking up on him.
His right arm was twisted painfully against his back.
“Why are you following me?” asked a husky female voice near his ear.
He made a move to look over his shoulder but she wrenched his arm higher, tighter between them. It hurt like hell but he bit back a groan. “I’m not following you,” he lied. Ace knew who this was. Her scent made his pulse throb.
“Oh no? I just saw you run past me. You’re following me.” Every word tickled his ear. “Now, move with me. Nice and slowly. I don’t want to have to hurt you.”
Ace managed a nod and took a step back with every one of hers. She led him behind a curtained stall.
“What do you want from me?” she asked.
“Nothing, I don’t want—”
“You’re lying.” She kept her tight grip, but he managed to lift his head enough to flick it back, aiming for her forehead. The move surprised her and she pulled out of reach, stumbling back a few steps. Her hands fell away from him.
“I’m sorry I had to do that but—” Her fist whacked his nose in midturn and he recoiled. “Damn.” Ace lifted a hand to his face, swiped his finger underneath his nostrils and stared at the blood.
“Don’t worry. I didn’t break it.” Ely was glaring at him. “Although I’m not making any promises the next time you try something like that. Now, why were you following me?”
Ely might be dressed differently and her demeanor didn’t seem as soft and collected as it had on stage, but she still looked good enough to eat in her tight outfit. He took a step forward but she took one back. They were running out of room.
“Don’t come any closer,” she said, holding up a fist.
He couldn’t help but smile. “I want to get much closer. It’s why I’m following you.” He sounded like an idiot, but with her standing this close his hands itched to grab her. Her smell was intoxicating. He had to touch her, before she slipped away.
She put a hand on her hip. “You’re following me because you want to get closer?”
“Yeah, and I think you might want to get close to me as well.”
Ely laughed and looked away. “Right, what gave you that idea?”
“Last night gave me that idea.” Ace stepped forward until he had her pressed up against the wall with nowhere to go. He grinned. She was only a head shorter than him.
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
He leaned into her. “Why not—are you scared?”
“I don’t scare easy,” she said with a shake of her head.
He caught her chin and kept it in place, slowly moving his face closer to hers, keeping his gaze glued on her as he took in the sweet scent of her breath. Ely was dressed in an outfit similar to the ones Brynn wore onboard the ship. Would he dare kiss her right now? Should he cross the line or would she retaliate violently again, and why did she seem like a completely different woman?
“Don’t,” she whispered.
“Why…because you’re afraid you’ll like it?”
Ace didn’t wait for her answer. Instead, he pressed his mouth lightly over hers, testing the waters. He pulled back instantly, leaving only a fraction of breath between them, licking his lips as he savored her sweet taste. “Tell me to stop. Tell me you didn’t like it.”
When Ely didn’t say anything, he pressed his lips against hers again and kissed her like he’d never kissed anyone before. Their lips moved in tandem, while his fingers itched to touch her everywhere, but she suddenly pulled out of the kiss.
Ely ducked under his arms and pushed against him hard enough to make the flimsy wall collapse. He fell forward with the momentum, unable to keep his feet hooked on the ground. He wound up falling on his face.
“Ace?”
Lifting his head, he found Colt and Brynn standing in front of him, both with surprised looks on their faces, though it didn’t take Colt long to burst out laughing.
Ace picked himself up and dusted off his jeans. He didn’t care about the humiliation of ending up on the ground. It had been worth it because now that he’d had a taste of Ely, it wasn’t just the man who wanted her. The beast inside him rumbled deep within his soul.
It looks like you’ve found a mate, it whispered.
Ace wasn’t sure if Ely could ever be a true mate, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to give up until he had her in his arms again. He needed to make her his. And now that he knew she wanted him too, he wouldn’t stop until all of his fantasies became a reality.
She might have been trying to lie to herself, but he’d smelled her arousal in the air.
She’s mine now.
It’s better to be a bad witch than a dead one.
Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered
© 2012 Robyn Bachar
A Bad Witch Story
One thing stands between Catherine Duquesne and happily-ever-after with her soul mate Lex—her unwanted bond with billionaire vampire Zachary Harrison. Married life is hard enough without adding an uninvited vampire to the mix, and being tied to Zach endangers more than just her relationship. If Zach dies, she dies, and with his new seat on the necromancer council being challenged by older, more powerful masters, his life expectancy is dwindling fast.
Vampire politics is only the beginning of Cat’s problems. Hunters are stalking magicians, abducting entire families and killing anyone who resists. As the current Titania and Oberon, Cat and Lex must protect their people, but Cat’s dark past keeps the victims from seeking their help. Worse, the former Titania’s granddaughter wants to oust Cat from the job, believing her vampire ties make her unfit.
To break the bond Cat must broker deals with devils on a journey that will take her to hell and back—literally. Freedom comes at a high price, but Cat will risk anything to save her people and her marriage.
Warning: This book contains explicit language, faerie shenanigans, a field trip to hell, even more magician sex, and gratuitous violence against vampires, demons, hunters, helicopters and the kitchen sink. And if you want to know how the very sexy Lex swept Cat off her feet, check out Blood, Smoke and Mirrors.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered:
Even if we solved my necromancer pr
oblem, the hunters were still out there. Not exactly the best time to be starting a family. Funny how it seemed, for each step we took toward Happily Ever After, something moved it another pace away. I rubbed my eyes, the first pangs of a headache twinging in my brain.
“You okay?” Lex asked.
“I’m just tired. And weirded out. I mean, kids. They’re stealing kids. What the hell could they be doing with them? And what’s up with the demon angle?”
“I don’t know. Don’t think about it. There’s nothing we can do right now.”
“It’s just so frustrating. We’re supposed to be helping people, and we’re just…”
“Powerless,” he finished, and I nodded. There was an odd glint in his light blue eyes, and I sighed. If Lex was powerless it was because I’d made him that way. Oberon was almost like a cosmic demotion from guardian, and he’d done it to be with me. I wondered if he regretted it, and my mouth asked the question before my better sense stopped me. “Regret what?” he asked, frowning.
“Choosing this, instead of…you know. Staying a guardian,” I said.
“Choosing you, you mean.”
I swallowed hard, my throat tight. Zach had assured me that if it had been him, he would have chosen me in an instant. That he would have accepted me as quickly and easily as the two shifters had just done in front of the faerie council. Lex hadn’t done that. He’d asked for time to think about it, and eventually he’d come around to accepting it. His hesitation didn’t inspire confidence or warm, fuzzy feelings.
“Do you regret it?” he asked.
“What, ‘de-guardianifying’ you? I regret that it makes you unhappy,” I replied.
“I’m not unhappy.”
“But it bothers you. I can see it. It’s like your hands itch when you hear Marie talking about her day because you want to get involved and you can’t.”
“That’s not the same as being unhappy.” He sighed, his hands on his hips as he looked down at me. It wasn’t hard—he was taller than me, especially with his boots on. “This whole thing with Harrison makes me unhappy.”
“And we’re fixing that, aren’t we?” I pointed out.
“Are we? You’re the one campaigning to keep him around after that.”
“Because we can’t afford to be fighting each other when we’re supposed to be fighting the hunters. The shifters talk to Harrison. They trust him more than they trust us.”
“Probably because you keep insulting them,” Lex said, scowling.
“Lord and Lady, don’t you start too. Do you honestly think those two tigers could do a better job than we do?”
“That’s not my point. My point is you play nice with the vamps, but you’re still trashing the shifters. If you want to pretend to be impartial, that means everyone, shifters included.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but no sound came out. He had a point. I frowned—was I some kind of supernatural racist? I’d been accused of it before, where vampires were involved, but most vamps were deserving of scorn. They were bad people. I was willing to give chroniclers the benefit of the doubt now, because I’d learned that they chose undeath for scholarly purposes instead of “dude, it’s cool to live forever!” But shapeshifters were little more than animals.
Right?
“I’m not sure I can be down with the furry posse,” I admitted. “I wouldn’t trust my cats to be in charge of anything.”
“They’re people, not house cats.”
“Don’t start the ‘werewolves are people too’ argument. I won’t be able to take you seriously ever again.” I folded my arms across my chest.
“Do you trust me?”
That sounded like a trap. “Yes. Do you trust me?” There was a moment of hesitation, and I pointed at him. “Aha! I knew it. You think I’m going to run away and join Team Evil, don’t you?”
He looked irritated by my word choice, and he shook his head. “I don’t think you’d do it willingly.”
“But you think if Harrison went all Dracula and crooked his little finger and said ‘come here’ I’d jump in the car and drive downtown.”
A vein in Lex’s neck twitched and I was sure lasers were about to shoot from his eyes. He seemed to be considering his words carefully, which didn’t bode well. “I think you wouldn’t have a choice.”
“Of course I’d have a choice. There’s always a choice. I fought him off before. I can do it again if he tried anything.”
“You let him bite you.”
“I didn’t let him bite me. How many times do we have to go through this?”
“We’ll keep having this argument until I’m sure—”
“Sure of what? That I’m not going to leave?” I asked. I took his hesitation as a yes, and I resisted the urge to scream. “You’re the one with a history of walking out on this relationship.”
Lex jerked as though I’d slapped him, and I grimaced. Shit. I’d crossed the line into unfair territory.
“I didn’t have a choice,” he argued.
“You always had a choice; you just didn’t choose me, so don’t get all up on your high horse about this. I choose you. I love you. I married you,” I reminded him. To accentuate my point I jumped on him. Literally. Leapt on the man and wrapped my legs around his waist and held on for dear life. Luckily I didn’t knock him flat or throw his back out when he caught me. “Marriage may not mean much to half the couples in America, but it means something to me. I’m not leaving you. Not for him, not for anybody. Feel free to tell me the same thing. It wouldn’t hurt if you also mentioned that you feel you made the right choice in marrying me. I could stand to hear that a few more times.”
Lex smiled. “I love you. You know that.”
“I do. And I like hearing it. I’m not asking for diamonds or flowers, just a little verbal repetition.”
“I love you, Cat.”
I kissed him, and he shifted his grip on me. He carried me out of the room, and I squeaked and held on for dear life. He never seemed to have a problem carrying me, but I’m paranoid that one day my fat butt will hit critical mass and I’ll be too heavy to haul around.
I unwound myself when we reached the bedroom, and while he closed and locked the door, I stripped off my shirt. I toed off my shoes and reached for the button of my jeans, and Lex’s hands covered mine when he rejoined me.
“Let me,” he said.
For an innocent man, she’ll go to her grave. Again.
Incarnate
© 2011 A.C. Ruttan
The Portal Keepers, Book 1
Cia is serving her sentence in the Canadian Arctic, guarding one of the many portals that seal off Earth from Heaven and Hell. She doesn’t mind the cold. What she does mind? Someone’s bumping off other Incarnates, the dual-souled beings who hold the Apocalypse at bay. And she’s next on the list.
Worse, she learns the prime suspect is Arthur, her ex. Arthur is many things, but despite their history, he’s no murderer. Cia has only thirty days to find him and prove it before the Wrath is unleashed to mete out justice.
It’s no relief when he shows up in her truck’s headlights on the side of the ice road. He stirs turmoil between her volatile old soul and the younger one that keeps it in line. Worse, he shows all the signs of turning into a demon.
The closer they get to Yellowknife, the more rogue demons pour out of Hell, dragging with them a past she thought would never haunt her again. Another murder, and the elders prepare to summon the Wrath ahead of schedule. A move that will, literally, let all Hell break loose. Unless Cia makes a soul-tearing choice.
Warning: Ice, frigid temperatures, lots of Poutine consuming and a mention of blubber. Many demons were harmed in the writing of this book, but the polar bear really is okay.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Incarnate:
Those were scary times. The Elders were constantly in mediation and there was chatter of the end of days. Agency cover-up artists disguised it as Y2K. Brilliant, and it worked, but lately there had been talk about the Mayan calendar and
the end of days again.
Perhaps Henry was gaining power again and would try to take over the world like he had ten years earlier. Only this time he was going to get rid of the one Guard who had previously stood in his way.
Me.
“So how do you stop a demon prince, then? If he’s truly indestructible, how do you get rid of one?”
“You send him back to Hell through a portal.” A frown creased his brow. “Of course, whoever accomplishes the task usually forfeits their own life and is dragged to Hell with the prince, since to keep him from coming back, the Guardian has to destroy their portal and thus kill themselves in the process. Kind of like a sacrifice.”
“Wouldn’t he just go to another portal?”
“No, because each portal opens up into a different part of Hell, and a demon prince can’t encroach on another prince’s realm. Demon princes are very territorial. They can only pass through a portal that connects to their realm in Hell, and since we have no way of knowing which portal connects to which territory, it makes them undetectable and hard to track. It makes them seem like they can pop out anywhere.”
I dropped my head in my hands, my gut twisting in a knot, the headache pounding behind my eyes. I could feel my locket containing the piece of my portal vibrating gently between my breasts, reminding me of my tie to it. Why did I suddenly get the feeling it would be me? Damien’s words haunted me then: “A blood sacrifice must be given.”
My life was tied to Yellowknife, and the only protection I had was a neophyte or trainee Incarnate, Anne. As if thinking the same thing, Arthur scooted to the side of the bed and reached over to where I was sitting, placing a strong hand on my knee. His hand was warm and reassuring. Without looking at him I placed my hand on top of his and squeezed.
“I am sorry for all of this,” I said. “Sorry Henry is doing this.”
A Patch of Darkness Page 30
