by Evie Byrne
Maybe he was reading too much into this. He was—literally—the only man in the room. Except she didn’t have to ask him to dance. She didn’t have to climb out of bed and stand there and look so damn beautiful he couldn’t remember why he was trying so hard to stay away from her.
Dusty crossed the empty space between them and took her hands in his. “If we do this, I feel like I should warn you. I’m not a very good dancer.” Especially with his calf injury causing all sorts of cramping. Not that it would stop him. He’d suffer every last ounce of pain in the world rather than turn down her request.
She lifted her face to his, and her eyes sparked with laughter. “And I don’t remember how to dance so we’ll probably step on each other’s toes and trip each other and end up falling on the ground at some point. You up for the challenge? I am if you are.”
Hot damn. If it meant holding her in his arms again, he’d fumble his way through anything—even his entire leg falling off. “I’m game.”
“Okay then.” Skylar kept one hand in his and moved her other hand to his shoulder. He curved his free hand over her hip. The position brought them closer together, their bodies not quite touching, but close enough he smelled her sweet scent with every breath he took.
He tried to stop breathing.
It didn’t work. To take his mind off the constant desire to rub his face in her hair, to kiss her and sweep her off her feet and carry her back to the bed, he forced himself back on track. “Is this music sparking any memories?”
“The song seems vaguely familiar, like maybe I’ve heard it before, but…” She shrugged and peered up at him. The look in her eyes changed, like she was staring far, far away. The hand on his shoulder shifted, soft fingers trailed back and forth along his collarbone. Her brow wrinkled. Was she in pain?
“Skylar, you okay? Are you remembering something?”
“Your bowtie. It was crooked. I fixed it.” She shook her head. “No. Not me. Mariah. Not my memory.” A sad smile lifted her lips. “Sorry. I guess Mariah’s memories are still floating around inside my head. I got confused for a second. I knew I hadn’t seen you in a tux, but I could remember…” She paused. “It’s so strange having another woman’s memories, someone I don’t know, someone I’ve never met. I know things about her, things I shouldn’t, but I don’t know her. Can you tell me a little bit about her, Dusty? It’d be nice to know something about this woman whose memories I share.”
Damn. This was something that could get him in a world of trouble if he wasn’t careful about what he said. From prior experience he’d learned that women in general don’t like to hear a man talk about other women. This wasn’t exactly a normal situation though.
“She’s had a rough life. A few years ago, before she moved to Talisman Bay, she got beat up pretty bad, so bad she almost died. It had something to do with her asshole boyfriend at the time, so she didn’t trust men for a long time. Actually, I don’t think she trusted anyone except Twyla, her best friend. Until Stephan. But even with all the hell she’s been through, she has a good heart.”
Following the rhythm of the surprisingly decent slow song, he moved them in an easy circle.
“Do you love her?”
Well, hell, he sure hadn’t expected that question. Before he could say anything, she clarified, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be prying. I just have the strangest memory from Mariah, and I don’t know if it’s real or one Craze put in my head. Did you ask Mariah to marry you?”
He laughed. He couldn’t help himself. He’d never expected his impromptu marriage proposal to come back and haunt him. “Yes, I did.”
Her eyes widened. “But Stephan?”
“It wasn’t serious. Well, not completely serious. See, Mariah makes a really good cup of coffee. I mean, like nectar-of-the-gods good. After my first sip, I proposed, hoping she’d stick around and make coffee every day. She turned me down, but she still makes coffee every day, so I’m not complaining.”
She arched an eyebrow. “You proposed because of a cup of coffee? You do know there are fancy places you can go where brewing coffee is their specialty, and you don’t even have to propose to the baristas.”
“Really?” He looked at her like she was pulling his leg. “Tell me more about these mysterious java palaces.”
“I’ll do you one better. I’ll take you to one tomorrow. You can usually find one on every corner.”
“Hey, is that a memory?”
She scrunched up her nose. “I don’t think so. It’s like how I know the sky’s blue and the earth’s round, I think it’s just common knowledge.” She let out a frustrated sigh. “You’re trying so hard to help me get my memories back and my brain’s not cooperating. I’m sorry about that.”
He wanted to erase the tension from her face. Kiss away the worry. But what he wanted and what she needed were two very different things. “Skylar, there’s nothing for you to apologize for. You didn’t ask for this to happen to you. I’ll do anything I can to help you, whatever you need. I promise.”
Seconds passed and she didn’t say a word. Her eyes were so wide, so open, so trusting. Had anyone ever looked at him that way before? He didn’t think so.
Swaying to the gently sensual rhythm, she leaned her head against his chest and circled an arm around his neck. Her cheek was so warm, so soft where it met his bare flesh. Her eyelashes fluttered as she closed her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for making me feel okay inside.”
He breathed in her scent and lifted his hand to cradle her head against him, to keep her from ever leaving him. He couldn’t force her to stay though, no matter how much he wanted this moment to last. So he trailed along the curve of her skull, following the path of her hair, teasing the silky strands between his fingertips before settling his hand on the middle of her back.
She snuggled closer, rubbing her cheek against his chest. Her quiet exhale heated him straight through.
It was the first perfect moment of his life.
He’ll do whatever it takes to protect his mate.
Cat of a Different Color
© 2008 Dana Marie Bell
Halle Pumas, Book 3
Dr. Adrian Giordano is quite happy with the way his life is going. His two best friends are happily mated, and he’s still sanely single. He has friends, a thriving business, and the occasional Saturday night date. Then Sheridan Montgomery comes to town. His inner Puma responds to the husky-voiced snow princess in a way that tells him his life is about to be turned upside down.
Sheri can’t believe her luck could be this bad. Instinct tells her Adrian is her mate, but the last thing she wants to do is drag him into her messy life. She’s on the run from a big bad wolf—an ex who won’t take no for an answer. Worse, if he catches her, he’s got the teeth (and the Pack!) to take what he wants.
She doesn’t stand a chance alone, but with her friends—and the persistent Adrian—by her side, she might just survive.
If her ex doesn’t eat the yummy Dr. Giordano for lunch, that is…
Warning: This title contains explicit sex, graphic language, a handsome, dark-eyed shifter and a couple of bites to remember.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Cat of a Different Color:
Thank God for her dark glasses. She’d been told that with most Pumas their eyes flashed gold when upset (or aroused, her inner kitty purred). Hers flashed red. These poor people would think she was some sort of demon if they saw that. They’d flashed red when she caught Adrian’s scent outside her motel room door. When she’d heard his voice for the first time her claws had damn near extended. She’d managed to wrestle her Puma into submission, but every time the delicious Dr. Giordano spoke she could feel her inner kitty purring as if he’d petted her.
Oh, pet me, Dr. Adrian!
The mine her Puma had snarled hadn’t helped. Her declaration that she wasn’t looking for a mate sounded fake even to herself.
Although technically speaking, it was true. It seemed she’d found her mate, whethe
r she wanted to or not.
She was going to have to figure out a way to keep him safe from Rudy; somehow she doubted that would be as easy as it sounded.
The front door to Max’s house opened. “Hi, Sheri!”
She braced herself as Simon’s enthusiastic mate embraced her like a long lost friend. “Hi, Becky.” She could see the Beta female’s ultra-curly hair and the paleness of her face. Becky’s features were clear because she was so close, the bright jade green of Becky’s eyes twinkling merrily. “Where’s Emma?” Sheri was dying to meet the Curana. She’d spoken to her on the phone and Becky had heaped praise upon the woman’s head, but it didn’t change the fact that she had to meet the Curana face to face and get her approval before the other members of the Pride would accept her.
“Right here,” a husky female voice replied. Becky was pulled away and Sheri braced herself again. A small woman moved into her field of vision, and she tilted her head to see her better. She saw long dark hair and dark eyes in a golden-skinned face, but unless she came closer her features would remain a blur. “Max,” that husky voice drawled.
“Yes?” Max’s familiar voice drawled back.
“Are you sure you never slept with her?”
“Emma.” Max laughed as he moved up behind the small woman. His familiar scent wafted over her.
“Blonde, gorgeous…explain to me how you didn’t sleep with her. Hell, I’m straight and I’d do her.”
“Emma!”
“We didn’t want to,” Sheri replied, somewhat startled by her welcome.
She could feel Emma’s attention swirl back to her. Damn, the Curana is strong.
“Oh?”
“Being chased by a rabid boyfriend out to force me into a mating meant men weren’t high on my priority list. Or women.” She grinned, relieved when the Curana chuckled. She felt Adrian’s arm stiffen under her hand. “Besides, Max was dating-”
“Emma, why don’t you let them through the door? It’s cold out there,” Max interrupted.
She could almost feel Emma’s amusement as the Curana stepped back. “Sure, Sheri, come on in.” The Curana leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Remind me that we need to talk later, okay?”
“Emma, come on.” Max laughed again. “Do you really want to know who I slept with in college?”
“Not really.” Sheri could hear the grin in Emma’s voice. “I just like making you squirm.”
There was the sound of a soft kiss. “I’ll make you squirm later,” Max purred softly in Emma’s ear. It was obvious he thought no one else would hear him, but her hearing was even more acute than a normal Puma’s.
She could feel her cheeks redden at the banked heat in his voice. Emma’s soft “Oh, boy” sounded too much like how she felt as Adrian slid an arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. His hand landed possessively on her hip as they walked into the room.
“What was that about a rabid boyfriend?” Adrian asked. His voice sounded strained.
Strained or not, she loved listening to it. It was warm and rich like melted chocolate, running over her skin in a sexy slide that raised goose bumps on her arms. Her eyes flashed red behind their glasses. Darn it.
Melted chocolate described the good doctor perfectly. Rich chocolate brown eyes, dark brown hair and tanned skin over smooth muscle made the man a rich treat she was dying to eat up, especially since she was a devoted chocoholic.
Too bad it wouldn’t work out. Rudy would take one look at the good doctor and eat him for lunch. Literally.
Max sighed. “Long story, buddy, and one we’ll be telling the entire pack. C’mon in, take your coats off and have a seat. Hey, Jerry.”
She gave Jerry the command that let him know he was off duty, so when Max bent down and petted him, he wagged his tail hard enough to nearly pull the harness out of her hand. She laughed, glad her dog and her Alpha liked one another. “He likes you.”
“Good, because he’ll be seeing a lot of me.” He took her coat and handed it to Emma. Adrian casually guided her to a large burgundy leather sofa. She could see people moving around, but couldn’t really make out faces. Scents, on the other hand…
There were several men and women in the group; thankfully none of them wore perfume or cologne, something Weres tended not to do anyway. Their sensitive noses wouldn’t allow it. None of their scents were familiar except for Max, the Betas and Adrian. Children squealed and laughed upstairs. She could make out the sounds of a video game running somewhere and figured the majority of the children were there.
The enticing scent of the luscious Dr. Yum drifted towards her. “Rabid boyfriend?” Adrian whispered in her ear as he settled in next to her.
She sighed. “I only want to tell it once, okay?”
Silence.
“Please?” She didn’t know why she was pleading with him, but the weight of his stare was beginning to make her uncomfortable. And uncomfortably hot, something she did not need to be in a room full of predators.
She could just make out his nod before she heard his “Okay.” He leaned in to whisper in her ear. “But we will talk about this later.”
The feel of his breath on her ear and neck sent a shiver down her spine even as his commanding tone got her hackles up.
Think it’s glamorous being a vampire? Think again.
Called by Blood
© 2009 Evie Byrne
The Faustin Bros., Book 1
Alexander Faustin is ready to settle down. He travels from NYC to sunny Colorado to find his destined bride. His delicate mission: to explain to her that vamps exist, that he happens to be one himself, and that he’d like her to be one, too. But the moment he lays eyes on Helena MacAllister, talk is the last thing on his mind.
It’s not like Helena to make out with a stranger on her front porch, much less invite him into her bed. Somehow Alex makes her feel safe, even while he’s dismantling her defenses. But in the wake of an accident, her faith in him is shattered. She learns her dream lover is a monster.
When a vampire betrays and terrifies his beloved, what can he offer her to make it up? Pancakes, of course. It’s a start, at least. And Alex has to think of the next step quick, because if Helena won’t take him back, he’ll never love again.
Warning: Contains graphic sex scenes, blood play, and one scene of voyeurism. There’s also a scary part in the middle. The author and her lawyers remind you that this is a work of fiction. In real life, a one-night stand with a stalker is a bad idea, unless the stalker is a vampire, in which case it’s an amazingly bad idea. (Note: No actual elk were harmed in the writing of this novella.)
Enjoy the following excerpt for Called by Blood:
She hadn’t been able to concentrate all day. At an important lunch meeting she’d embarrassed herself by spacing out mid-sentence. More than once. After that she’d gone straight to the high school track. That seemed a safe enough place to run. But even running failed to do the trick.
Alexander Faustin just wouldn’t leave her thoughts. It was like she was in heat or something, and as her temperature rose, her intellect dropped by equal degrees. She didn’t want to tangle with him again, but another moonlight talk was tempting. Because as horny as she was, she was also curious. The journalist in her wanted to know more. Why would a man like that stalk her? She had good instincts—not for relationships, admittedly, but for strangers—and he honestly didn’t seem dangerous. If he didn’t mean to harm her, why did he lie to her? Was it a habit of his? Did he get a buzz from the risk? Maybe another talk would help her see the outlines of his subtle insanity. Then she’d feel better about turning him over to the police.
That morning she’d Googled his name, trying different spellings and came up with nothing. A Lexis-Nexis search revealed nothing about Alex or Alexander but did yield some hits on a Gregor Faustin who was some kind of nightclub impresario in New York. A small picture of a man in his thirties or early forties scowling at a flashbulb accompanied one of the articles. All she could say was that their coloring w
as the same. A relative?
Hell, she didn’t even know if Alexander Faustin was his real name.
As soon as Lacey left, Helena stepped out onto her balcony and surveyed the back yard.
“Looking for me?”
She yelped. He was on the balcony with her, standing in the shadows.
Helena backed away. “How’d you get up here?”
He advanced, stepping into a pool of light. He wore the long woolen overcoat, the one that had rubbed against her naked body. It was open. Beneath, he wore a black turtleneck sweater, the chunky fisherman kind, jeans and expensive work boots. GQ Italy. He shrugged. “Ladder?”
What ladder?
Helena darted back into the house, slammed the sliding glass door shut and clicked the tiny locking arm into place, thinking that maybe this home-alone thing was not such a good idea after all. She picked up the phone, but didn’t call anyone. Instead, she returned to the door.
He stood just on the other side of the glass, smiling a crooked smile. What beautiful lips he had. Oh God, he was hot. Why did he have to be so hot? He drew his finger along the glass as if he could touch her face through it.
“Helena…” He spoke as if they knew each other, as if he’d been missing her for years. “You shouldn’t be afraid.”
“I don’t know you.” Helena’s voice wavered. She tried to strengthen it. “This is too strange. It’s just not right.”
Yet she wanted to touch him more than anything in the world. Instead she splayed her palm against the glass and he matched it with his own hand, so much bigger than hers. She had thought of those hands all day, how they held her breasts and circled her waist. She’d thought of his mouth on her throat, open and wet.
“It’s an unusual way to meet, I’ll give you that, but that doesn’t make it wrong. What do you want to know about me? I’ll tell you anything.”
