Sensational Six: Action and Adventure in Sci Fi, Fantasy and Paranormal Romance

by Sasha White

  Despite reservations, she walked forward and trailed her fingers through the current. Ribbons of cool water feathered in their wake. Lynn checked one last time to ensure her privacy, then quickly stripped out of her hiking clothes and plunged into river before she could change her mind.

  She yelped as the brisk flow licked over her ample curves, crinkling her nipples and stroking her generous thighs. God, it felt so good. She could stay here for hours, floating in the shallows. Lynn closed her eyes and quietly bobbed on the surface, letting the sun kiss her upturned face.

  A breeze whipped through the Canyon, sending a chill through her, making her teeth chatter. Maybe the water was colder than she’d initially thought. Gooseflesh rose on her skin. With it came an unexpected surge of awareness.

  Lynn sat up and looked around, suddenly painfully aware of her nudity and isolation. There wasn’t another human in sight. So why was her heart racing?

  She shook off the feeling of being watched and ducked her head below the surface. Lynn knew she was alone. She’d checked twice. It was only paranoia…or perhaps wishful thinking on her part. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to share your life with someone, she told herself. Of course, the chances of them wandering into the Canyon to say, ‘Here I am’ were pretty slim to none. Stuff like that only happened in books and movies, never in real life. And certainly never to her.

  Lynn held her breath for as long as she could, watching bubbles float to the surface, then came up sputtering. Her long brown hair clung to her back and lovingly curled around her large breasts, accentuating her pale skin.

  The feeling of being watched had dissipated somewhat, but hadn’t completely gone away. As much as she wanted to stay in the water, Lynn couldn’t ignore her instincts any longer. She rose, paying no heed to the sensual caress of rivulets trickling over her bare flesh.

  Lynn resisted the urge to brush the droplets away. She was afraid if she touched herself at that moment it would only make the ache inside her worse, since it had been months since she’d had a lover.

  How many times had she promised to work less and make more of an effort to date? Too many to count.

  “This time I really mean it,” she muttered, knowing that in all likelihood the promise would fall by the wayside much like her New Year’s resolutions to lose weight. It wasn’t like she had time to worry about such things now anyhow. Lynn had come here to do a job. The sooner she focused on finishing it, the better.

  She waited a few more seconds, allowing the air to dry her, since she didn’t have a towel. The gentle juniper-scented breeze brushed through her wet hair, causing her skin to prickle. Lynn spread her arms and slowly turned in a circle, soaking in the sunshine.

  The feeling of being watched returned.

  Lynn’s body tensed. She opened her eyes, half expecting to see someone standing in front of her. The sensation of being observed was stronger this time, sweeping over her skin, leaving scorch marks behind.

  Definitely male...

  Her gaze darted up and down the river, but she still couldn’t spot anyone. In the Grand Canyon, that didn’t really mean anything. Someone could be watching her with binoculars from up on the ridge. Talk about an unfair advantage. Lynn rushed forward and dove into her tent to get dressed.

  * * * * *

  Talon stared out the bridge viewport at the blue-green planet below. The ship would continue to orbit Earth, while teams of Phantom Warriors were dispatched to the surface to find mates. Nerves tightened his stomach, twisting his gut into a Zaronian stew. Soon it would be his turn to venture onto the planet.

  Already several Phantom Warriors had returned empty-handed. Talon forced his mind away from the possibility that he, too would return mateless and focused instead on having a successful hunt like Bacchus and Kegar.

  Those two warriors had already returned to Zaron with their new mates in tow. The men had received a hero’s welcome for bringing hope to the Phantom people. Although hesitant, the women had done their best to settle into Phantom society. Their acclimation and acceptance had been helped by the fact that both warriors had successfully passed their genetics onto the women.

  Even the most cynical of the Phantoms had been unable to deny the truth of Bacchus’ and Kegar’s claims, when their mates had shifted form into their respective clans.

  Seeing the women change had given the other Phantom Warriors hope for their future. Talon took that newfound hope and turned it into determination the likes of which he’d never experienced before. He wasn’t about to blow his allotted three days on Earth and come back alone. If his commanding officers could find mates in a matter of days, then so could he.

  He glanced at the map of the world and his two hearts sank. Though smaller than Zaron, Earth was still substantial in size. Talon had no idea where to begin his hunt for a mate.

  Being part of the Wing Clan meant he’d need a lot of space to roam. He needed to test the thermals in the alien atmosphere before narrowing down his hunting grounds. Talon didn’t want people in the cities spotting him, when in his other form. At least not at first. That meant he had to go somewhere remote. But where?

  He pressed a button on the bridge and the map of the planet grew larger and more detailed. It may take several trips to cover it all. Perhaps he was being a little overoptimistic about finding his mate the first time around. It might take several trips to the planet to succeed.

  No! He shook his head. He couldn’t think that way. He would find a mate. And not just any mate. Talon was determined to find his true mate. He might be desperate, but he wasn’t so desperate that he’d attach himself to just any female. He was looking for something different, someone different.

  He scanned the map, staring at the illuminated sections that indicated dense populations. There were so many places that had been conquered on this planet, leaving very few wild spaces untouched.

  Talon pressed another button and the heavily populated areas disappeared. That elimination should help narrow his search some, but not enough. He glared at the map. He needed a place where he wouldn’t readily stand out. Talon walked to a console and hit a separate screen. With a few deft strokes, he brought up the list he’d been searching for.

  There were several species of raptor on Earth. None near his size in his other form, but a few like the Wandering Albatross and the Andean Condor were close enough…if viewed from far away. Despite their low numbers, Talon chose to go with the condor, since they were closer in coloring to his other form. He hit a few more buttons and the locations of these giant birds appeared. There weren’t nearly as many as there should be, but several held the remoteness he needed.

  Now all he had to do was choose.

  Such a simple task for something that posed such great personal risk. Not that Talon feared for his safety. He was a Phantom Warrior after all, but he couldn’t exactly convince a woman to mate with him if she was terrified of him. He sent out probes to take images of the areas. It would only take a few seconds to receive the information he needed.

  When the first images appeared, Talon quickly ruled out the California locations. The state was far too heavily populated for his needs. He moved onto the pictures of Baja, which seemed promising, before finally settling on the Vermilion Cliffs in Arizona. The vast expanse called to something deep inside of him. The cliffs were located near a place known as the Grand Canyon.

  Intrigued, Talon pressed a point on the map and the probe zoomed in, sending back even more images. His breath caught in his lungs as the craggy geography came into view.

  The area was beautiful. Perfect for soaring on thermals and testing the atmosphere. He touched the map again and it took him into the depths of the canyon down to the swirling water below. He scanned the canyon for condors and found two, making lazy circles above a pale object on the ground.

  Perhaps they’d spotted their next meal? Seemed likely since condors were expert scavengers. He wondered what had the birds so fascinated.

  Talon hit another button and the
probe zoomed in on the image. That’s when he saw her. Naked. Wet. And mouthwateringly lush. Rising like a goddess from the abyss. Every muscle in his body shot to attention. Talon’s breathing deepened as he gazed at her long brown hair and full figure. He couldn’t seem to swallow as his flight suit suddenly constricted, choking off his air supply.

  The skin on Talon’s neck and shoulders tightened as the change threatened to overpower him. It was a good thing he couldn’t smell her or he’d probably end up embarrassing himself in front of the other warriors, wandering the nearby corridors.

  They’d never let him live a slip up like that down. Only a child couldn’t control the change and he was far from being a child. Talon glanced around to make sure he was alone. It had been years since a woman had forced a change upon his body. So long in fact, that he couldn’t recall the last time—if ever it had occurred.

  Interesting…

  He reached out and touched the viewer screen, stroking a finger down the woman’s tempting image. Talon watched her pale nipples pucker and firm, as if she’d truly felt his touch. Was it a sign from the Goddess?

  His gaze traveled longingly over her luscious curves. The hair between her thighs matched the color on her head. He wondered if they’d be of equal softness. His mouth watered at the thought of tasting her, running his tongue along her moist seam.

  Talon couldn’t stop himself from touching her image again. The woman glanced around and shivered, then rushed forward into some kind of dwelling. He jerked as hundreds of years of instincts urged him to take chase.

  “Mine,” he growled.

  If you’d like to know more about Phantom Warriors 3: Talon, then visit my webpage at http://www.jordansummers.com/books/talon/

  About Jordan Summers

  Jordan Summers has thirty-one books to her credit and has sold over 145,000 ebooks. She’s a member of the Horror Writer’s Association, The Author’s Guild, International Thriller Writers, and Novelist Inc. For more information about the author and her work go to: jordansummers.com or sign up for her newsletter: http://www.jordansummers.com/contact/

  Find about more about Jordan Summers

  Website: http://www.jordansummers.com/books/

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorjordansummers

  Twitter: http://twitter.com/jordanwriter

  Newsletter Sign-up: http://www.jordansummers.com/contact/

  Books by Jordan Summers

  Phantom Warriors Series

  Phantom Warriors 1: Bacchus

  Phantom Warriors 2: Saber-tooth

  Phantom Warriors 3: Talon

  Phantom Warriors 4: Arctos

  Phantom Warriors 5: Linx

  Phantom Warriors 6: Riot

  Hawk’s Slave

  Phantom Warriors Anthology Volume 1

  Phantom Warriors Anthology Volume 2

  Phantom Warriors Box Set

  Atlantean’s Quest Series

  Atlantean’s Quest 1: The Arrival

  Atlantean’s Quest 2: Exodus

  Atlantean’s Quest 3: Redemption

  Atlantean Heat 3.5

  Atlantean’s Quest 4: The Return

  Atlantean’s Quest 5: The Dark King

  Atlantean’s Quest Bundle Volume 1

  Atlantean’s Quest Bundle Volume 2

  Dead World Series

  Dead World Prequel: Raphael

  Dead World Prequel: Kane

  Dead World 1: Red

  Dead World 2: Scarlet

  Dead World 3: Crimson

  Moonlight Kin Series

  Moonlight Kin 1: A Wolf’s Tale

  Moonlight Kin 2: Aidan’s Mate

  Moonlight Kin 3: Nic

  Moonlight Kin 4: Tristan - Coming Soon

  Lords of the Night

  Lords of the Night 1: Gothic Passions

  Lords of the Night 2: Rose’s Rapture

  Misc Titles

  Tears of Amun

  Paris After Dark

  Heat of the Night

  Private Investigations

  Hot Shot

  Off Limits

  A Soul in the Hand

  by Marsheila Rockwell and

  Jeffrey J. Mariotte

  Genre: Fantasy

  Length: 23,500 words (94 pages)

  Sensuality: Mild

  “A Soul in the Hand” originally appeared in the Neverland’s Library anthology published by Ragnarok Publications, April 2014.

  Kord is a mercenary, fighting for whoever pays the most coin, his morals and principles left behind long ago with the father figure who’d betrayed him. Elin is a rebel, willing to play the long con in order to bring about a lasting peace. When their paths—and purposes—cross in a scriptorium in the middle of a primal jungle, memories and magic will be released in equal measure, and the encounter will simultaneously tear them apart and bind them together in ways it will take them a lifetime to unravel...but those lives might not be long ones.

  In the dream, Kord was Panther. He moved through the trees like an unmoored shadow, lithe and black, paws lightly brushing the earth with each step. This was not the hardwood forest he had been born in, at the empire’s edge, or the swamps he had come to know in later years. It was jungle, densely wooded, steamy, thick with life at every layer, from the worms and insects underfoot to the birds inhabiting the highest canopies, their plumage flashing, brilliant as it caught sunlight that only reached the floor as a muted and filtered green haze.

  Panther followed a scent trail he couldn’t name. It was rich, heady, familiar and strange at the same instant. Whatever it was, the scent was clearer in this place than the few signs of passage left behind by his prey: a crushed leaf here, there a vine yanked free of a tangle. Panther’s eyesight was sharp; he missed nothing. But odor was the only trustworthy guide, and Panther filled his nostrils with it at every step, confident that he was closing in.

  That confidence vanished when a sudden surfeit of smells confused his senses. He tried to sort them, but he was unused to the jungle and most were scents he had never encountered before. The only ones he knew for sure were blood and human flesh. The trail he had been following had vanished into the olfactory chaos, and he didn’t know which way to turn. One path would lead toward . . . something, he was not sure what. Something he wanted, at any rate. Any other path might make him something else’s meal.

  Standing still was not an option. He would have to choose a course and count on wits and strength to keep him safe. He decided to continue as he had been, always keeping the sun before him. Soon enough, he found it again, the trail he’d been following, and an image of the creature that had left it almost came together in his mind, but then blew apart like seeds in the wind. It was as familiar as home . . . but Panther hadn’t had a real home in so long. He inhaled the scent and continued on. The scents of blood and flesh were stronger this way, too, and he had not covered much ground when he saw why: a human arm, caught in the fork of two branches, with blood spattering the trunk and the leaves below and the soil beneath those.

  Then a foot, ripped off at the ankle, a line of ants looking like stitches against its pale skin.

  Most of a face, limp and curled like drapery, dangling from a thorny bush.

  And Kord realized he was human, no longer Panther, and whatever had strewn these parts about—not the same thing that had left the tantalizingly familiar scent trail, surely?—wasn’t far away, hunkered in the shadows, waiting.

  He’d had a choice to make, and he had made the wrong one.

  Story of his life . . .

  ###

  A boot in the ribs woke him.

  Eyes closed, he waited, listening.

  When it came again, he caught it, an inch away. Its owner tried to yank free, but Kord hung on, looked up.

  “Kordell. He wants to see you.”

  Kord released Bragga’s foot. The man stomped down once, an oddly petulant gesture for someone of his size and station. Bragga, bearded and burly and missing more teeth than he had remaining, was the trusted Seco
nd to Captain Antrem, Commander of the Red Legion, Glory Squad, in service to His High Autarch, Celaeus of Glaeve.

  Fancy titles these mercenary bastards gave themselves, Kord thought as he pushed himself to his feet from where he had been sleeping against a tree, on one of the few spits of solid ground for miles in any direction. Antrem was captain of nothing but hired swords, and was himself hired out to Celaeus, a noble with more gold than brains, who hoped to use his paid army to overthrow an emperor and to award himself the stolen crown.

  “In his tent?” Kord asked.

  “Aye.”

  Kord leaned close enough to smell the rot that always wafted from Bragga’s toothless maw. “Next time, you’ll lose the foot,” he said. “Just say my name. I’ll wake.”

  The tent was pitched at the farthest point from the murky water. The stink of the swamp was everywhere, fetid and thick. Cloying.

  The smell carried him back. Years. Memories with every breath, some of them even good ones.

  Kord nodded to the woman standing guard outside the large crimson tent, which would have looked more impressive had it not been stained with brown smears and patched in a hundred places. He didn’t care that Antrem was spending his inheritance playing at being a wealthy officer, and he didn’t care about the politics of the fight. It would make no difference in his life whether Celaeus succeeded, or if Puell held onto his title and his empire. All that mattered was that the coins he was paid each week still spent.

  The guard stepped to one side and pulled open a flap, and Kord ducked inside. Antrem’s pipe blocked the smell of the swamp with a sweet, woody scent. It less successfully obscured the odors of Carna, Antrem’s woman (who stayed, Kord knew, for the same reason he did: a weekly pouch of coins to make the memories of Antrem’s blunt hands and plump red lips fade), and Nestor, Antrem’s First. Carna was always so perfumed she made Kord want to gag, and Nestor was a giant of a man who sweated enough in a day to refill the swamp outside.