The Prophecy
Come Fill Me
Deep Within Me
Passion without limit. Carnal hunger that knows no bounds.
Shameless Desire
© 2013 Tina Donahue
Outlawed Realm, Book 3
Within Earth’s five dimensions, nothing is as it seems…and desire is never far away.
In E4’s jungle, Kuma was the Alpha werewolf, bent on revenge against the hated guards. Swept with them into the E1 dimension, now he prowls Seattle at night, stopping the thugs from abducting women for use as sex slaves in E4’s Pleasure Palace.
On her way home from her nursing job, Gwen senses danger in the night’s shadows—an instant before a stranger attacks. Clinging to consciousness, she watches the impossible, a wolf fighting him off…protecting her. She wakes in her own bed, convinced it must have been a dream until she sees Kuma in human form. Virile, intense. A man like no other.
Within his powerful embrace, Gwen experiences rapture she didn’t believe existed. His unrestrained lust and burning need ends her loneliness, though not the menace they face. The guards are a constant threat in their hunt for women and their determination to see Kuma dead. Together, he and Gwen must fight—for his life, her freedom, their future.
Warning: Out-of-this-world sex and a romance to die for. Features a hunk whose inner beast won’t be tamed, and the woman who craves his most shameless desire.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Shameless Desire:
She wasn’t alone.
The thought startled Gwen even as she tried to dismiss it. The hairs on her arms rose up. Something was wrong.
What? Other than the obvious—that she couldn’t afford a car or to live in the suburbs.
Frowning, she gripped her pepper spray even harder and continued across the lot to the surrounding neighborhood, a combination of inner city and working class that had seen better times. Failed attempts at gentrification had resulted in islands of beautiful two- and-three-story historic homes surrounded by blight, trash, weeds.
She hurried past the first vacant lot as quickly as she could, telling herself tonight was no different from any other. No one was after her. She wasn’t a psycho’s type, being too tall and not at all helpless. Hadn’t one of the residents said it very well last week when he’d jokingly referred to her as a ball buster for teaching those self-defense classes at the hospital? You bet he had. Her kind of woman wasn’t on most guys’ radar, especially those looking for an easy target.
Besides, she didn’t have all that far to walk and would get home safely.
Moisture rolled down her cheeks and throat. If the weather deteriorated any further, her hoodie would soon be soaked through. Huffing from her pace, she approached the street corner. The signal was red; the sign warning her not to cross. In both directions, the road was empty. Its wet surface gleamed in the available light.
Wind whisked around an abandoned confectionary, buffeting Gwen. She shivered and turned down the street, deciding to take a shortcut through an alley in the distance. From behind, a car approached. Glancing over, she saw it move down the main thoroughfare rather than turning in her direction.
Her running shoes made slapping noises against the damp pavement, the sounds obtrusive, not seeming to belong. Leaves rustled above her, the dying ones torn free by the wind. The bass of an unknown song thumped from a nearby brick building, its curtainless upper windows amber with light. A young boy with wavy black hair and dusky skin blew on the glass, fogging it, and then he drew a series of letters with his forefinger.
Gwen reached the vacant lot that cut from this street to the next, one over from her own. Just a bit farther to go. She’d be all right. No one was around. No one was following her.
Needing to be certain, she continued to glance back. There was nothing except darkness interrupted infrequently by dated streetlamps, their crumbling concrete facades matching the pockmarked sidewalks. Empty bags of Lay’s potato chips, Cheetos and other fast food littered the area, the cellophane crackling beneath her shoes.
With one hand around her pepper spray and the other clutching her house key, she entered the alley. Debris skittered down it, carried by the wind, the sickly sweet stink of garbage less noticeable in the brisk breeze. Yards ahead, half the length of a football field, was her street, a wall of murkiness separating her from it. Craning her neck, Gwen glanced at the many windows facing the alley, most boarded up. The ones that weren’t were dark.
Go on. She’d walked this route last night and countless times before that. The only hassle she’d faced were stray dogs crouching in the gloom, growling at her intrusion into their territory.
Tonight, even they were gone. For the first time ever, Gwen missed them. She knew she could easily frighten animals. Men, on the other hand… There might be a fight.
Again, she sensed someone watching, following.
Sudden outrage rather than fear pumped through Gwen. Halfway down the alley, she halted and turned, ready to rumble, show the jerk some of her martial arts moves.
No one was behind her.
She listened and heard nothing. Certainly not heavy breathing, except for her own.
Renewed apprehension cut through her aggravation. Gwen pivoted, ready to run the remaining distance. A faint whooshing noise interrupted her panting and the other night sounds. Before she could identify it, something hit her neck, stinging her skin.
Jesus, had someone shot her, with a fucking silencer no less?
Her hand flew up, then stalled not on blood but something else. What the hell?
What felt like a small dart had pierced the side of her throat unprotected by her hoodie. Where in the crap had something like that come from? Suddenly, her limbs went numb. Her hand dropped from her neck before she could remove the dart.
Down Gwen went, her legs unable to support her weight, her knees hitting the broken asphalt. She heard the crack of her bones, but the pain didn’t register, blunted by whatever flowed through her. A tranquilizer, she guessed. Although she tried to remain kneeling, her efforts didn’t last. She fell to her side even as her mind kept screaming run.
Too late. Out of the shadows he came. A man she’d never seen before, hadn’t noticed, his build bruising with a thick neck, burly shoulders and arms. In the light bleeding from her street, Gwen could see his eyes were a light brown, his hair curly and black, his features and complexion not quite African-American or Indian but a mixture of races, the same as her.
He grabbed her arm.
Nooooooo.
She fought to pull away, but her body refused to work. Helpless, she screamed, or tried; only a croak escaped.
Grunting, he put his hand over her mouth, his fingers clamped so tight Gwen couldn’t bite him. Raw terror tore through her even as her lethargy increased. Was he going to rape her? Kill her? Both? Oh God, oh God, oh God. Her thoughts went in all directions, most of them bad, fueled by adrenaline. She pictured him slitting her throat once he’d finished his sexual assault, leaving her to bleed to death in a trash bin or an abandoned building, her body concealed so well it would be difficult to find.
Aw shit. Her life couldn’t end like this. No fucking way. She had to fight. Come on, dammit. Do it.
She tried so hard to move, her body broke out in a cold sweat. Perspiration mingled with the moisture on her face, stinging her eyes. Despite her efforts, Gwen couldn’t wag one finger. Lifting her arms was as impossible as flapping them and taking flight. Remaining conscious became an effort.
With too much ease, the man dragged her down the alley. Her clothes rasped against the rough surface. Her shoes bounced. Tat-tat-tat, her rubber heels went. Tat—
What’s that? Even in her drugged state, Gwen felt a deeper blast of cold to the left of them and heard a sucking sound that resembled a vacuum. Was it a vent? Leading to where? Why hadn’t she heard it all the times before when she’d taken this route? Why—
What in the holy hell is that?
She listened, hearing another
low, menacing growl.
The man stopped at the noise, then hurriedly pulled her toward the intense cold.
The growl deepened, growing louder. Closer.
The man muttered something in a language she’d never heard, couldn’t possibly understand. From the right came a snarl, followed by an animal bounding into the air, hitting the man square in his chest.
His hands dropped away from Gwen. She sagged to the asphalt, straining to remain conscious, gaping at the animal attacking the man. Not one of the stray dogs she’d seen here before. It was larger, more dangerous, looking like a goddamned wolf.
Teeth bared and bloody, it tore at the man’s face, cutting off his scream. Gwen heard his neck bones snap. Unable to keep her eyes open any longer, she allowed her lids to slip down, not wanting to witness the attack, terrified of what the wolf—or whatever the hell it was—would do to her when it finished with the man.
Rain tapped her face. Each breath was a prolonged battle. She wanted to run. She would have given a year of her life to be able to scream.
Quiet. She noticed it suddenly…the utter stillness of the night. How much time had passed? Was she still alive? Had she died and gone to some weirdo version of hell?
Her mouth fell open, but no sound escaped as someone strong lifted her up. A guy, surely. A cop who’d happened upon this nightmare? A Good Samaritan? Had she lost consciousness without realizing it? Where had the wolf gone? Where was this guy taking her?
Gwen’s hands flopped helplessly as he slung her over his shoulder, his forearm firm across the back of her thighs. With quick steps, he moved down the alley.
Unrestrained desire…danger without end…
Deep Within Me
© 2013 Tina Donahue
The Prophecy, Book 2
For one agonizing moment, Zeke Neekoma thought his most feared vision had come true. Liz was lifeless in his arms, murdered by her own clan for one traitorous act—loving him. Then her father’s healing touch brought her back.
She hasn’t emerged from death unchanged. Now her healing gift leaves her drained, weak. Worse, Zeke is still tortured with visions of a woman covered in blood.
Liz aches for a future with Zeke, to always know the thrill of his body imprisoning hers with mindless pleasure. At her reanimation, she redoubles her determination to use her healing gifts to help his people—except Zeke refuses to allow her to use them.
But with her clan leader set to launch his next attack, Zeke and Jacob have no choice but to try to heal Liz with the same sensual force she used to save them. Yet it may not be enough to avert a merciless plan that will test Zeke’s humanity, risk Liz’s life—and threaten their timeless bond.
Warning: Features a determined hunk and a babe who won’t be tamed, loads of lusty sex including some menage, a ton of unrelenting peril, and love that knows no limit. In other words, a romance hot enough to vaporize steel.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Deep Within Me:
Zeke Neekoma gripped the Jeep’s steering wheel. His eyes swept the barren New Mexico desert. At this hour, moonlight reduced colors to varying shades of gray and deepened the shadows cast by stunted vegetation and rocks. The perfect setting for a sci-fi film…or the endless battles and murders played out here.
Less than two weeks before, Zeke had been close to death from three bullets near his heart. Although no hospital emergency room or medical staff had seen to his rescue and recovery, his body recorded no lingering distress from the incident. The wounds were mere pinpricks on his chest, hardly noticeable, his pulse strong yet too fast, heightened by a continued flood of adrenaline.
Because of Liz—once his enemy, now the woman he adored.
She’d died. He’d seen it, had caressed her limp body, begging her not to leave him. And then…
The enormity of what had happened hit Zeke fully now. He tried to swallow and couldn’t quite manage the action. His throat was too dry, his palms so damp they kept slipping on the steering wheel. He rubbed one hand, then the other on his jeans and clutched the wheel as hard as he could for some measure of control. Didn’t work.
The events of the last few minutes precluded it, the memories assaulting him.
He recalled racing to Carreon’s stronghold, where Liz had gone to stop the man. Carreon was her clan’s leader and the worst sort of coward. He harmed women, children, anyone who was helpless against him. Liz had hoped the bastard’s death would end the bloodshed between her and Zeke’s clans.
How wrong she’d been to have confronted him. When Zeke arrived, Carreon was in his black Escalade with Liz’s father in the passenger seat. All these months, Carreon had kept Dr. Munez prisoner to ensure Liz’s obedience to whatever he demanded. Upon seeing Zeke, Carreon pushed Munez from the SUV, directly into the path of Zeke’s vehicle, forcing him to stop. The action allowed Carreon to escape.
Inside the stronghold—within the safe room—Zeke had found Liz’s body. Carreon had strangled her, just as Zeke’s visions had warned…horrific images he’d been unable to stop. Liz’s face was swollen and purplish. Bruises ringed her neck. He’d felt for a pulse but there hadn’t been any. No signs of—
Zeke forced back a shudder, not wanting to revisit that horror again. Desperate to flee the images, he stomped on the Jeep’s accelerator. With too much gas, the vehicle jerked forward, then jounced over the uneven terrain. He had to fight to keep it steady and to see where he was going. Turning on the headlights wasn’t something he could do. Carreon’s men might see them. They were still out here.
Before Zeke could slow down, the tires hit a particularly deep rut. The Jeep’s front tires dropped into it, and then the vehicle jolted upward.
Liz inhaled sharply. She dug her fingers into Zeke’s thigh to steady herself.
He wanted to glance at her but resisted the urge. All they needed now was for him to lose control of the Jeep, flipping it. Injuring not only himself, but also Liz and her father to the point of unconsciousness. Before long, Carreon’s men would arrive, circling them like vultures.
How could you forget that? What the fuck is the matter with you?
Zeke eased his foot from the accelerator to slow the vehicle. “You okay?” he asked Liz.
“Yeah.”
Her voice didn’t rasp from her previous injuries…her murder. It was as though it had never occurred, the same as Zeke’s brush with death. After another deep breath, she stopped gripping his leg and rested her palm on his thigh.
Her hand’s weight sent a flood of warmth through Zeke that comforted and aroused him. He recalled the feel of her lush nudity, her willing submission and longing for his kisses, the hunger of his caress, his cock buried deep within her cunt.
Its tightness and heat was the shelter he’d needed and had always searched for without even knowing it. Her smile of approval, the love he recognized in her eyes was the only heaven Zeke desired.
Without her, he’d die, no longer caring what happened. With her, he had hope for the future, the first in years. All he had to do to make certain it lasted was to find Carreon and kill the prick. Not quickly, though. He needed the bastard to suffer for what he’d done in the past to Zeke’s clan and family. To his little girl Gabrielle.
A surge of outrage, quick and hot, tore through Zeke.
“You all right?” Liz asked, squeezing his thigh.
He fought to control his anger and finally managed a nod. He’d deal with Carreon later. Right now, he had to see to Liz’s safety and her father’s. They were more than ten miles from his clan’s stronghold with few places to hide in this desolate area. A precarious position. The only thing that might possibly save them was this route. Here, they shouldn’t run into Carreon’s three lieutenants who’d escaped tonight’s battle with Zeke’s men.
Liz twisted slightly, trying to see in the back. Her father sat behind her. “Papa, you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
His words bounced in concert with the Jeep’s rough movements.
Liz blew out a br
eath.
Zeke welcomed the sound as much as he did her laughter, her pleasured moans when he mounted her. Thankfully, that would happen again. A fucking lot. Hell, if he had his way, he’d never pull out of her. Certainly not to sleep, perhaps not even to eat.
Losing her once was all that he could bear.
The corners of his eyes were still sticky from tears, shed when he’d believed she was gone from him forever. He’d thought, as Liz had, that she and her father were only able to heal the injured, a gift bestowed on them by their mixture of Aztec and extraterrestrial blood.
Because of Carreon and men like him, Liz’s father hadn’t told her the most important secret regarding their gift.
Not only could they undo damage from an accident or the bullets that had torn into Zeke’s chest, they could reanimate.
Earlier, Liz had been beyond simple healing, the delicate bones in her throat crushed from the pressure of Carreon’s hands. When her father finally convinced Zeke there was nothing he could do, that his love alone wouldn’t bring Liz back, he’d finally released her. Through his tears, Zeke watched Munez cradle his daughter’s face. He expected the older man to offer a farewell.
Instead, the older man poured his healing gift, his life force into her. With astonishing speed, the lividity drained from Liz’s face, her complexion returning to its rich olive coloring. She’d stirred as though awakening from a sound sleep, rather than having come back to life.
Carreon didn’t know the full extent of the healing gift. If he learned Liz and her father could reanimate the dead rather than merely healing the injured, he’d do whatever he could to imprison them both. This time, he’d make certain they brought back his lieutenants who were killed in battle with Zeke’s men.
The blood feud had already spanned thousands of years, all to gain power over each other’s gifts or to hold on to so-called sacred territory. Many on both sides claimed it was a tribute to or preparation for the return of their ancient ancestors. Beings who’d crossed deep space and had come to Earth millennia before.
Stolen Desire (Outlawed Realm) Page 19
