BodyGuard (Butterscotch Martini Shots Book 2)

by Jennifer Ashley

  Ronan kissed her hair. “I won because of you, Lizzie-girl. Because the mate bond wouldn’t let me die.”

  “Mate bond . . .”

  Ronan twined his fingers through hers and brought their joined hands to his heart. “I feel it right here. It means that you and I belong together, that we have a bond no one can break. I hope, in time, that you feel it too.”

  He sounded so quietly hopeful that tears stung Elizabeth’s eyes. “I do feel it, Ronan. I love you. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. You’re funny and warmhearted and strong and brave and generous, and I love you. And wonder of wonders, you love me back.”

  “You bet I love you back.” Ronan’s eyes darkened. “You rescued me, Elizabeth.”

  “No, you did a lot of saving my butt. Andrea is the one who healed you . . . how did she do that?”

  “Fae magic.” Ronan said it offhand, as though Fae magic was a common thing to find lying around. “Andrea’s half Fae, and the magic manifested in her as a healing gift. Lucky for us. But that’s not what I meant.”

  Elizabeth raised herself on one elbow. “You’ve done so much for me. All the Shifters have. I’ve done so little in return.”

  “No,” Ronan said. “I’ve been alone a long time, Lizzie-girl. Even living here with Rebecca and taking in the cubs—I’ve still been alone.” He released her hand and brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek. “I’m not alone anymore.”

  Elizabeth pressed a feather-light kiss to his lips, her heart full. “Neither am I.”

  Ronan slid his hand to the back of her neck, rising into the kiss. They explored and touched for a little time, in the newfound wonder of feeling.

  “You know,” Ronan said, smoothing her hair. “I think I’m feeling a lot better.”

  His sudden, wicked smile made Elizabeth’s blood heat. She ran her hand down the blankets until she found a very large bulge under them. “I can see that.”

  “Mmm, did you lock the door behind my nosy friends?”

  “I did.”

  Ronan chuckled as he pushed back the covers and rolled his warm weight over her. “I knew I picked the right woman.”

  “You did.” Elizabeth smiled into his kiss and wrapped her arms around his broad body. She was safe and warm beneath him, not ready to go anywhere for a long time. She licked his ear and then nibbled it.

  “My bodyguard,” she whispered. “My mate.”

  The End

  Excerpt . . .

  HARD MATED

  “Shifters Unbound” series - Book 3.5

  By

  Jennifer Ashley

  His only warning was the bone-rattling roar before several tons of enraged bear Shifter landed on him. Spike in his jaguar form rolled out of the way, twisted in a half-somersault through the dust, and came up under the bear’s throat.

  The crowd—under the blaze of bonfires, work lights, and lantern flashlights—roared, Shifter throats open in howls of glee.

  Spike slashed upward with his fangs, catching the loose skin under the bear’s chin, right above his Collar. The bear scrambled backward, swinging his head to pry loose the wildcat clinging to his throat. Spike wrapped all four huge jaguar paws around the bear’s neck and hung on, biting down enough to taste blood.

  Both the bear’s and Spike’s Collars were sparking wildly, the mechanisms designed to stop Shifters from giving in to violence.

  Too late. Way too late. The beast in Spike wanted to tear into the bear’s jugular and gulp down his blood, pull off his head and kick it into the middle of the ring. Spike would prove to all watchers that a wildcat could best a bear five times his size. Speed and cunning were what counted in the ring, not being as big as a two-ton pickup.

  But the beast inside Spike would have to deal with it, because this was the fight club, and there were rules.

  Didn’t mean Spike didn’t enjoy a little blood squeezing out of the bear. Feel that, shithead.

  The crowd roared again, and also howled and snarled, because not everyone was in human form.

  Shifters pressed forward around the ring, some still dressed, some naked and ready to shift, some already animals or half beasts. Scents both human and Shifter clogged the air, layers of excitement from the shifted females blending with the sweat of the males.

  But most of all Spike smelled the bear who’d come down from Wisconsin, who thought he could best Spike, the champion of the highly illegal Shifter fight club.

  Spike bit down, tasting victory, but that was before the bear grabbed Spike in his formidable front paws and jerked him from his neck.

  That cost the bear, whose blood poured onto the dirt. But the grizzly lifted the squirming Spike-as-jaguar and threw him across the ring.

  Spike spun in midair, corkscrewing his body. He landed on all four paws right inside the upended cinderblocks that marked the perimeter of the ring. If he’d landed outside, he’d have forfeited the match.

  Cats land on their feet, dick-brain.

  Spike didn’t wait to decide whether the impact had hurt him. Screaming a wildcat scream, his Collar going crazy, he launched himself at the bear.

  The grizzly, blood streaming down his pelt, caught Spike between his big paws, but the bear was tiring. Spike whipped his cat body around again, landing full force on the bear’s back. He wrapped paws around the bear’s throat and began tearing open the wound he’d already begun.

  The bear bellowed in pain. He shifted to his in-between beast, half human, half bear, a monster of gigantic proportions. Spike kept ripping, blood flowed, and the bear snarled in rage.

  The bear-beast collapsed, taking Spike down with him. They landed in a giant cloud of dust, Spike slamming his eyes shut before the gritty dirt blinded him.

  The grizzly, back in solid bear form, made one more effort—rolling onto his back. Spike scrambled off and away before the bear could squash him flat, Spike’s lithe cat’s body barely taking him out of the way in time. Spike jumped to his feet, panting, ready to charge the bear again.

  Two refs in human form ran between them.

  “Fight’s over!” one of the refs shouted. “The bear is down.”

  The grizzly’s few supporters moaned in disappointment. The rest of the crowd screamed and hollered, humans punching the air, beasts doing victory leaps. Spike, champion of the Austin Shiftertown, had won again.

  Spike stood still and caught his breath, his Collar sending fiery jolts of pain down his neck and spine. He’d pay a long time for what he’d done in the rings tonight. Close fight. The bear was damn good.

  The bear got slowly to his feet. He rose on his hind legs, higher and higher, until he flowed down into his human form—a little shorter than his bear form, but not by much. The bear—Cormac—had black hair and blue eyes and stood about seven feet tall. He spat blood from his mouth, hands on hips, catching his breath like Spike did.

  Spike stretched his forepaws into the air and let himself become human, himself tall enough at six foot six. He kept his arms up, acknowledging his victory, and his fans filled the place with noise.

  Cormac came across the ring, Collar sparking with residual arcs, and gave Spike a nod. “Good fight,” he said, his voice rasping.

  He stuck out his hand. Spike clasped it, promising himself not to grip too hard, and Cormac clapped Spike on the shoulder. The Shifter had no malice in his eyes, only approval for Spike’s technique and stamina.

  That was the problem with bears. They were so damn affable—when they weren’t trying to kill you.

  “Good fight,” Spike said back. He kept his words light, his handshake strong, pretending he didn’t want to fall onto the soft dirt of the ring and pass out. A few gallons of water poured down his throat wouldn’t hurt either.

  Cormac turned away to his friends—Ronan the Kodiak bear and his family—and a woman ran to Spike with a sports bottle.

  Spike grabbed the bottle and upended a stream of water into his mouth before he realized two things. First, the woman who’d handed him the bottle was h
uman, and second, he’d never seen her here before.

  She had black hair cut short but wildly curly, blue eyes that looked back at him in perfect equanimity, a round face that was cute rather than pretty, and lips that any male, human or Shifter would want to sink a kiss onto. Her plump body had nice curves that she didn’t much hide behind a button-down shirt, sexily-cut lace tank, and jeans that rested low on her hips.

  Shifter groupie? Maybe, but she didn’t have the obsessed look, nor did she wear a fake Collar or paint on whiskers or anything like that.

  On the other hand, Spike was standing next to her wearing nothing but his tattoos, sweat, and the blood from the fight. The woman kept her gaze on Spike’s face, not even flicking it to his very naked body.

  Spike upended the bottle, squirted water onto his face, and rubbed his hand over his cheeks and jaw. A shower was going to feel good.

  He was also antsy, adrenaline still up in spite of the Collar’s efforts. A nice roll in the sack would be great too, and here was this sweet little morsel, handing him water and looking fine in a Texas-cowgirl kind of way.

  Not that Spike usually went for humans. He had to be too careful in bed with human women, because things could get wild and wicked. Shifters females were more resilient, more used to male Shifters and what they wanted.

  But there was something Spike liked about this human.

  “Who are you, sweetheart?” he asked.

  “My name’s Myka. Myka Thompson. You don’t know me, but you know Jillian.”

  Jillian. Jillian. Who the hell was Jillian?

  “You knew her, I should say,” Myka said. “For one night at least. Five years ago. Shifter bar. You were a Shifter, she was a Shifter groupie . . .” She trailed off, one hand moving before she returned it to her shapely hip.

  Memory came to him. Five years ago, sure. Spike had been very drunk that night, but Jillian had been the hottest thing he’d seen in a long, long time. She’d been more than willing—in fact, she’d almost dragged him to that hotel room—and Spike had waived his avoidance of humans for her. “Red-headed little thing, fiery. Yeah, I remember her.”

  He’d never seen Jillian again. Spike liked to date his ladies for more than a night, much more than a night, but the phone number Jillian had given him had been disconnected, and she’d not come to the bar again.

  Some humans were like that. They wanted a taste of the beast, but they didn’t want anything long-term with a Shifter.

  “How’s she doing?” Spike asked. He grabbed a towel he’d left on a box outside the ring and rubbed his wet face. The towel came away filthy and bloody. He needed a shower and some bandages. Shifters healed quickly, but Spike was going to be in for a sore night.

  “She’s dying,” Myka said.

  Spike jerked back to her, towel dangling from his grasp. “What?”

  “I said, Jillian’s dying. She wants to see you, but you have to come with me now.”

  * * *

  (End of Excerpt)

  ALSO BY JENNIFER ASHLEY

  * * *

  SHIFTERS UNBOUND

  * * *

  Pride Mates

  Primal Bonds

  Bodyguard

  Wild Cat

  Hard Mated

  Mate Claimed

  “Perfect Mate” (novella)

  Lone Wolf

  Tiger Magic

  Feral Heat

  Wild Wolf

  Bear Attraction

  Mate Bond

  Lion Eyes

  Bad Wolf

  Wild Things

  White Tiger

  Guardian’s Mate

  Red Wolf

  Shifter Made

  ("Prequel" short story)

  STORMWALKER

  (w/a Allyson James)

  * * *

  Stormwalker

  Firewalker

  Shadow Walker

  Double Hexed

  Nightwalker

  Dreamwalker

  Dragon Bites

  RIDING HARD

  (Contemporary Romance By Jennifer Ashley)

  * * *

  Adam

  Grant

  Carter

  Snowbound in Starlight Bend

  Tyler

  Ross

  Kyle

  Ray

  IMMORTALS SERIES

  By Jennifer Ashley, Robin Popp, and Joy Nash

  * * *

  The Calling (by Jennifer Ashley)

  The Darkening (by Robin Popp)

  The Awakening (by Joy Nash)

  The Gathering (by Jennifer Ashley)

  The Redeeming (by Jennifer Ashley)

  The Crossing (by Joy Nash)

  The Haunting (by Robin Popp)

  Blood Debt (by Joy Nash)

  Wolf Hunt (by Jennifer Ashley)

  Forbidden Taste (by Jennifer Ashley)

  THE MACKENZIES

  (Historical Romance by Jennifer Ashley)

  * * *

  The Madness of Lord Ian Mackenzie

  Lady Isabella’s Scandalous Marriage

  The Many Sins of Lord Cameron

  The Duke’s Perfect Wife

  A Mackenzie Family Christmas: The Perfect Gift

  The Seduction of Elliot McBride

  The Untamed Mackenzie

  The Wicked Deeds of Daniel Mackenzie

  Scandal and the Duchess

  Rules for a Proper Governess

  The Stolen Mackenzie Bride

  A Mackenzie Clan Gathering

  ABOUT JENNIFER ASHLEY

  New York Times bestselling and award-winning author Jennifer Ashley has written more than 75 published novels and novellas in romance, urban fantasy, and mystery under the names Jennifer Ashley, Allyson James, and Ashley Gardner. Her books have been nominated for and won Romance Writers of America's RITA (given for the best romance novels and novellas of the year), several RT BookReviews Reviewers Choice awards (including Best Urban Fantasy, Best Historical Mystery, and Career Achievement in Historical Romance), and Prism awards for her paranormal romances. Jennifer's books have been translated into more than a dozen languages and have earned starred reviews in Booklist.

  * * *

  CONTACT JENNIFER

  More about the Shifters Unbound series can be found at:

  http://www.jenniferashley.com.

  * * *

  Or join her newsletter at:

  http://eepurl.com/47kLL.

  RISE OF THE DAMNED

  calista fox

  “Forever Mine” series

  * * *

  Book 1

  CHAPTER ONE

  Rhode Island, Present Day

  Taelyn Abrams heard the shower running in the bathroom down the hallway as she roused from slumber, exhilaration ribboning through her. In the middle of the night, Vander Cari had returned after nearly three months of traveling Russia and numerous other countries to piece together a collection of vases designed by a renowned sixteenth century potter that Taelyn would broker out of her antiques shop downstairs.

  Van had crawled between her sheets while the rain had fallen outside, the fat drops pinging against the windowpanes and roof and leaving a chill in the air. Until he’d curled his hot and hunky body around her. She’d finally gotten the best night’s sleep since he’d left for Europe.

  Now as the water shut off—he always used the guest bathroom to keep from waking her as he came and went at unpredictable hours—she rolled over to stare at the doorway he’d strut through, hopefully wearing nothing but a smile. Yet her gaze landed on something entirely different.

  Nestled in the center of the pillow that still held the slight indentation of Van’s head was a ring. Not just any ring. A domed, multifaceted oval ruby that sparkled brilliantly and was surrounded by breathtaking diamonds.

  “It’s from Louis XV’s estate. It belonged to the queen consort, Maria Karolina Zofia Felicja Leszczyńska.”

  “Wow, that’s a mouthful,” Taelyn said. She glanced up, her thoughts temporarily derailed by Van as he filled the d
oorframe and wrapped a towel around his waist. Her gaze slid along cut abs, up to a well-defined pectoral ledge, broad shoulders and a thick, corded neck. He had a chiseled visage, melted-chocolate eyes and neatly trimmed dark-blond hair.

  Vander Cari stood six-foot-seven and was as solidly built as any champion gladiator of the original Carius ancestral lineage from which he hailed.

  Returning her attention to the stunning piece of jewelry—no easy feat while Van was half-naked in her bedroom—she asked, “Has this been authenticated?”

  “A half-dozen times. I have the documentation in my safe deposit box.”

  “This will bring in a pretty penny, then.”

  Vander chuckled. A deep, rumbling sound. “You’ve mistaken my intention.” He sat on the edge of the mattress and reached for the ring. “This isn’t for your display case or consignment. It’s for your finger.”

  She gasped.

  Continuing, he told her, “A promise ring at the moment, since I’m twenty minutes late for my chartered flight.” He leaned in and swept his lips over hers in a whisper of a kiss that left her dying for more. As usual. “I swear when I return, I’ll ask you properly to be my wife. On bended knee, with Cristal, a blaze in the fireplace and an entire weekend to make love.”

  Taelyn’s stomach knotted, despite the enticing picture he painted. She had no doubt Van would make it an incredibly romantic affair, complete with rose petals, candles and soft music. He was a stickler for details, perhaps because he was a true Renaissance man, despite his warrior-like appearance.

  Yet when that weekend was over? Wanderlust and the hunt for greater, rarer treasures would consume him. And he’d be gone again.