by Moira Rogers
Sera’s hopeful expression had started to crumple. Her shoulders slumped. “Maybe we should come back another day.”
“Hush.” Kelly still watched him, her narrowed eyes staring at him as if she could see more than just the physical world. She cocked her head and listened to the wind as it teased at the flowers on the tree above their heads.
The scent of magnolias curled around them. Sera shifted her stance, giving him a helpless look that melted into hope as Kelly returned to her chair. “Mama?”
Kelly arched one eyebrow. “I’m waiting for a proper introduction. You weren’t raised in a barn, Seraphina.”
Sera cleared her throat and slipped her hand into Julio’s. Her fingers trembled until they clenched tight, clinging as she forced out the too-casual words. “Mom, this is Julio Mendoza. He’s a member of the Southeast council, and I’m going to marry him. Soon.”
“Julio Mendoza.” Kelly Sinclaire smiled. “Welcome to the family.”
About the Author
How do you make a Moira Rogers? Take a former forensic science and nursing student obsessed with paranormal romance and add a computer programmer with a passion for gritty urban fantasy. To learn more about this romance-writing, crime-fighting duo, visit their webpage at www.moirarogers.com, or drop them an email at [email protected]. (Disclaimer: crime-fighting abilities may appear only in the aforementioned fevered imaginations.)
Look for these titles by Moira Rogers
Now Available:
Red Rock Pass
Cry Sanctuary
Sanctuary Lost
Sanctuary’s Price
Sanctuary Unbound
Southern Arcana
Crux
Crossroads
Deadlock
Cipher
Building Sanctuary
A Safe Harbor
Undertow
…and the Beast
Sabine
Kisri
Children of the Undying
Demon Bait
Hammer Down
Bloodhounds
Wilder’s Mate
Hunter’s Prey
Archer’s Lady
Coming Soon:
Enigma
Haunted Sanctuary
Their desire could be their destruction...or their greatest strength.
Cipher
© 2011 Moira Rogers
Southern Arcana, Book 4
Fourteen months ago, Kat Gabriel learned a brutal truth. Under the wrong circumstances, her empathic ability is no gift. It’s a deadly weapon. Now her soul bears the inescapable weight of those deaths—and it aches for the loss of the easy relationship she once shared with Andrew Callaghan. Unleashing her power saved his life, but she couldn’t save his humanity.
Since the attack that turned him into a werewolf, Andrew’s sole focus has been to make himself stronger. Pushing her away hurt like hell, but Kat doesn’t need a friend. She needs a protector strong enough to shield her from the supernatural world that forced her to kill. Strong enough to resist their volatile connection.
As Kat’s quest to understand the violent legacy of her past leads her into the darkest underbelly of the psychic world, Andrew is at her side. Yet every step forward rips open old emotional wounds and shakes their control. Where they’re headed, distractions of any kind can be fatal—especially when the greatest threat they pose is to each other.
Warning: This book contains a dangerous shapeshifter who could kill you with his bare hands, an empathic hacker who could kill you with her mind, a psychic cult determined to kill everyone, a lot of violence, a little bit of hope, and a happily-ever-after seven years in the making.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Cipher:
She did what he’d done. Reached up and framed his face with her hands, and shivered at the texture of his beard against her palms. “I will never be afraid of you, Andrew Callaghan.”
His chest heaved with shaking breaths, and he groaned as he grabbed her wrists. “It’s dangerous, Kat. I’m dangerous.”
“So am I.” She swiped her thumbs over his cheeks and willed him to believe the same words he’d told her the day before. “Andrew, I’m still mostly burned out, and you’ve got strong shields for someone who’s not a psychic. But I couldn’t just hurt you—I could destroy you. I could drive you to your knees and make you crawl for me. I could take away everything you are.”
He closed his eyes, but he didn’t release her. “Then that makes this a doubly bad idea.”
Andrew was going to walk away from her again, and the tense parts of her that had started to unwind over the last few days would shatter. The only way to save anything was to let him go before he came up with a polite, stilted reason. “I understand.”
“No. No, you really don’t.”
He bent his head and kissed her.
The world stopped.
His lips were warm. Firm. As firm as the fingers locked around her wrists, holding her hands to his face. She’d played out this moment in a thousand girlish daydreams and more than one guilty adult fantasy, and imagination hadn’t provided the little details. The heat of his body, the strength of his grip, the way she melted, like chocolate left in the July sun, and from nothing but that innocent contact.
His lips, on hers. Parting, and oh God, he knew how to kiss, like he was hungry, like he loved the taste of her, and Kat became mortally certain that her knees were going to give out if he got his tongue in on the action. Her body throbbed with the rhythm of his mouth moving on hers, until she was one exposed nerve, and she would have begged him to touch her anywhere—everywhere—if she wouldn’t have had to stop kissing him.
When he released her wrists, it was only to grip her hips and lift her, mold her to his body, and she moaned her gratitude. He was harder than he looked, an unforgiving wall of muscle and smooth skin, so distracting and arousing that she didn’t realize they were moving until he stepped over the threshold.
Into the bedroom.
“Open,” he rasped, and lowered her to the bed.
Her back touched the mattress—gentle, so damn gentle—and Andrew stretched out over her, shirtless and beautiful, and her brain fritzed out like a fried circuit board as she obeyed and parted her lips.
He touched them with his tongue, a soft sweep of one lip and then the other, and kissed her again, deeper, one hand winding in her hair. That stirred old memories, brought to life every unacceptable fantasy she’d had of their anger and hurt and longing all coalescing into a dark passion that would satisfy her body even as it cut her heart to pieces.
But there was no darkness in the grip of his hand, just a gentle control, a sweet hint of dominance that barely deserved the description, but thrilled her anyway. The throbbing was back, magnified into an ache that pulsed in time with the stroke of his tongue. Every time she tried to catch a breath it escaped in tiny, helpless noises that would have embarrassed her if she hadn’t been burning alive.
He dragged his mouth to her chin and then her throat, nipping lightly when she tilted back her head. The scrape of his teeth curled her toes, and the sheer insanity of the way her body reacted splintered fear through her.
She fisted both hands in his hair and dragged his head back, panting for breath. “What are we doing? Are we—”
He panted too, his eyes glazed with pleasure and need. “Are we what?”
If she let him keep touching her, she’d fly apart before she got her pants off. “We can’t do this without talking about it. Sex with an empath as strong as I am—it’s not that simple. I could hurt you. Hurt both of us.”
Andrew’s chest rumbled, as if a growl formed that he didn’t quite voice. Then he rolled away. “I didn’t think.”
Disappointment made her voice shake. “You shouldn’t have to. It wouldn’t be that bad if you were anyone else…but with you I’m—I’ve got—” She covered her face with her hands, and now she was disappointed and embarrassed. “My empathy might as well be hardwired into my sexual responses. Is there a
girl version of premature ejaculation?”
He choked on a snort. “I don’t think anyone minds it, usually.”
Maybe her violent reactions had nothing to do with magic and everything to do with chemistry. Maybe wanting Andrew so long had built a tension that would make even innocent touches feel fantastic. Maybe she was in denial.
Maybe she didn’t care.
The room seemed too warm as she rolled to her knees. Andrew had his hand over his face, which made asking the question a lot easier. “If it gets too overwhelming…can we stop?”
He rolled to his side, propped on one elbow, and studied her, his expression intense. “We can stop whenever you want. Whenever you need to.”
Christ, she was a teenager, making rules about where her prom date could touch her while they groped in the back of his car. Except she’d never gone to prom. She’d been sixteen her senior year, struggling with the violent surges in power that made puberty a worse nightmare for a psychic than for the average hormone-riddled teen.
And Andrew—Andrew was not a teenage boy. He was six-foot-something of shapeshifter alpha bastard who had to have his share of instinctive needs. “That’s not going to drive you crazy?”
“I have two hands, Kat,” he reminded her. “I can take care of things myself.”
It was not remotely okay to pause and savor that image, but she couldn’t stop herself. Andrew, stretched out, his face slack with pleasure, the muscles in his arm flexing as he curled his fingers around—
She slapped her hands over her face and actually whimpered. “That was mean.”
“Was it?”
Anything else she said would reveal her newly formed and overwhelming need to watch him and his two hands take care of things. So she leaned down and kissed him again.
He held the back of her head and fit his mouth to hers, slow this time. Easy. A gentle kiss from a controlled man trying to make her feel safe, with no clue that his tender protectiveness turned her inside out.
If her empathy had been at full power, she would have come when he stroked his hand from her hair to her collarbone, and then down to her breast. She moaned, imagining how much hotter his callused fingertips would be against her suddenly tight nipples.
Not that the silly butterfly tank top offered much protection. Kat shuddered and tore her mouth free of his, then shoved at his shoulders until he rolled onto his back. Sliding one leg over his body was reckless, and straddling his stomach was insane. “You’re too hot. My brain is going to overheat.”
Muscle flexed under her as he shifted slightly and gripped her hips. “Isn’t that the point?”
The fine hair on his arms tickled her palms as she touched him, sliding both hands up until they passed his shoulders and she was stretched over him, clutching the blankets on either side of his head. A position of power—if you were fool enough to think an alpha shapeshifter couldn’t dominate a lover from flat on his back.
She might be on top, but the need pulsing through her answered to him. Her body answered to him, held captive by empathy and her growing suspicion that some of the arousal turning her inside-out was coming from him, in spite of her shields.
He held her gaze and thrust up, and suspicions and shields were the last thing on her mind as the hard ridge of his erection rubbed against her. Instinct had her moving before she could stop, grinding down to chase the too-perfect pleasure that couldn’t possibly be twisting inside her already.
But it was. Her elbows gave out, and she sprawled across his bare chest, open mouth pressed to his shoulder. Moaning, she clenched her eyes shut, afraid to move. “I can’t come before you’ve barely touched me.”
He flipped her onto her back and stretched out over her, one knee between her legs. “You can come whenever you damn well please.”
Danger prowls on two legs…
Wolf Hills
© 2012 Bianca D’Arc
A Brotherhood of Blood Novel
Detective Sally Decker’s Wyoming trip to visit her newlywed friend, Carly, turns into a dangerous adventure into the unknown when she learns Carly’s husband is a master vampire, and there’s a pack of werewolves living just up the road. As if that wasn’t alarming enough, the sexy Alpha wolf has taken a shine to her.
Jason Moore is an Alpha on a mission to make Sally his own. His very public seduction doesn’t sit well with the pack’s available females, but instinct tells him that Sally can handle anything, including any werewolf bitch dumb enough to challenge her.
Romance gives way to a call to arms when the pack’s children come under attack. Their rescue mission turns into a mating dance and the hunt is on in more ways than one. Their attraction is mind-bendingly hot, though startling revelations about his magic and her origins could drive a wedge between them forever. Can love help them bridge the chasm between their worlds?
Warning: This book contains bombs, bullets, bare-knuckled and bare-naked lust, and some serious ass kicking. Please do not feed the frisky furballs, unless you’re willing to risk drawing back a bloody nub.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Wolf Hills:
Jason stopped the bike and waited while she hopped off first. Sally was enthusiastically looking around at the scenery, her breath almost taken away by the natural beauty of the place. A brook leapt over an outcropping of rocks, tinkling merrily as it sped away downhill after collecting in a small pool beneath the waterfall.
“What do you think?” Jason asked in a hushed voice as he came up beside her on silent feet.
“It’s gorgeous,” she replied without taking her eyes off the beauty of nature.
“I’m glad you like it. Thought you might.” She turned at his softly spoken words to catch the look of satisfaction on his face as he watched her watching the waterfall.
“Did you? Take a lot of chiquitas up here, eh?” She was suddenly in a playful mood and felt like teasing him.
“Would you believe me if I said you were the first?” His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled.
“That innocent look may work on some people, but not on a hardened police detective like me.” She rolled her eyes at his expression, smiling all the while.
“Are you absolutely certain?” He tried one more time for the earnest look, but she wasn’t buying it.
“Sorry.” She shook her head in the negative. “You’ll have to do better than that.”
“Oh, I can do better. Question is, can you handle it?”
He moved closer to her, dropping the helmets on the soft grass beneath their feet. Suddenly she felt like she was being stalked by a wild predator. A thrill ran down her spine as she thought about avenues of escape. Did she want to run? It might be fun to lead him on a short chase, though ultimately, she really wanted to be caught.
Giving in to temptation, she stood her ground as he reached her. It wouldn’t be right to start this relationship by playing games. She decided she would meet him as an equal or not at all.
Wordlessly, he reached out, one hand just barely touching the sensitive skin of her cheek. When she didn’t move away, he deepened the contact, cupping her cheek in his warm, rough palm. Her pulse rate leapt higher as he moved even closer, right into her personal space.
His head dipped toward hers. She closed the space between them, stretching upward to meet his kiss. And then she was lost.
The kiss the night before was nothing compared to the full, intimate heat of him. His tongue invaded, plundered, staked his claim, and she loved every second of it. She met his challenge and returned it, reaching up to drag him downward, moving her body into his, daring him to take it further.
He didn’t disappoint. His hands roamed her back, sliding downward to cup her ass and lift her into full contact. She could feel the hard rod of his excitement against her belly and it made her want more. More of his kiss. More of him.
She didn’t know how long the kiss lasted. She only knew that when he drew away from her, she tried to follow. She was firmly under his spell and didn’t want to stop. Not for
anything.
Somehow—and it shamed her to realize she’d been so far gone—Jason pulled back and cooled things down. His forehead rested against hers, his breathing harsh. That was some consolation, at least. She could feel the trembling of his upper thighs against hers. She knew a little of what it cost him to stop. She felt it too.
“Why?” The word escaped before she could stop it.
“Too fast,” he replied through ragged breaths. “You’re human.” He let her go and stepped back as if forcing himself to do so. “Mostly human, at any rate. Were mating can be…kind of rough on the uninitiated. I’m trying not to scare you off.” He shot her a rueful expression, his grin catching her off guard, but charming her just the same. “Is it working?”
“Why don’t you come back over here and find out?” she challenged.
He stepped back another pace. “Later,” he promised. “First, I want to show you something.” He held one hand out to his side, inviting her to take it.
Like teenagers on a first date, she held his hand as they walked together toward the small waterfall. He stopped for a moment beside it and she listened to the trickling water, appreciating its peaceful bounty as the cool, moist air helped bank the fire he had started within her.
“My mother used to come up here all the time when we were kids. We used to bring a picnic lunch and she’d let us play in the water and in the woods nearby. It was our special place.”
Touched by his words, Sally looked up at him. “She sounds like a special lady.”
“She was.” Sally sensed a wealth of pain in his simple words. “The year I became Alpha, she was killed in the violence. There was a bit of a clan war brewing until I stepped forward to claim leadership and broker peace. It was her death that finally turned me into the Alpha I am today. It was a harsh way to discover my own inner strength, but our world is like that sometimes. You should know this before you get in any deeper.” He turned to her, his expression earnest. “Right now, you’re on the periphery. Your friends are fully in our world, but you might get away with simply being watched by one of the vamp enforcers for the rest of your life. You could go on with your normal, totally human life. Only you would know what really goes on in the dark. And it wouldn’t affect you much, other than having to swear yourself to secrecy about your friends. Those ladies and their mates are powerful enough to allow you that freedom.”
