I’ve been a nurse, a lead vocalist in several bands, a published lyricist and even a returning university student majoring in Anthropology and Mythology. Throughout all of my varied careers, I would sigh as I read one fantasy-filled story after another saying, “Someday I want to write one of those,” until one day my husband said, “So do it.” And I did. Now I can’t imagine doing anything else.
To learn more about R. G. Alexander please visit www.rgalexander.com. Send an email to R. G. Alexander at [email protected].
Look for these titles by R.G. Alexander
Available Now:
Children of the Goddess
Regina in the Sun
Lux in Shadow
Twilight Guardian
Midnight Falls
Not in Kansas
Surrender Dorothy
What Happens When a Wicked Wizard Woos a Wary Witch?
Surrender Dorothy
© 2009 R.G. Alexander
Sequel to Not in Kansas
Dorothy knows her new neighbor is too wicked to be trusted. As a natural witch, she recognizes the Wizard for what he truly is. As a woman, she recognizes him as a threat to her sanity.
Z has tried everything. Pursued her in dreams, bribed her cat, enticed her with peep shows meant to whet her appetite and drive her crazy. And still she resists. What’s a Wizard to do? He came to Earth to have an adventure, not lose his heart to the one witch whose guard he can’t get past.
When he finally gets his hands on her, the power between them is undeniable. But Dorothy’s family secret could make him sorry she surrendered.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Surrender Dorothy:
He stood away from the wall, his fingers reaching up to undo the top button of his white linen shirt. Dorothy took a step back. “What are you doing?”
He took another step. “Earning your trust.” Another button undone. “I never had any interest in Emily. She was merely a way for me to get close to you. I never touched her.”
Dorothy bumped against a piece of furniture, altering her retreat without looking where she was going. “You’re interested in everyone. You forget I had a bird’s eye view of just how interested. Why should I believe you?”
He slipped the shirt off, and it dropped to the ground. Dorothy swallowed. He was beautiful. The ruby amulet lay against his lean, smooth chest, stomach muscles rippling with his slow, deliberate movements as he continued to stalk her. “I was never intimate with any of them, not after seeing you, and you know it. I wanted you to know me. To know my appetites. To want me not in spite of them,”—he smiled—“but because of them. And don’t lie and say you didn’t enjoy every minute of it.”
She had. Dorothy heard the rushing of water and she looked behind her. He’d backed her into a room with a small waterfall. Steam rose from the heated pool at its base. This was a bathroom a woman could die happy in. But first she had to know.
“And Kansas?”
“He was fated to be the king’s consort. The magic of our world called him, but yes, I sent the storm. Yes, I was attracted to him. And yes, I slept with him. That is what you wanted to know, isn’t it?”
The waterfall blurred before her eyes. “Yes.”
“Look at me, Dorothy. Please.”
He was naked. Gloriously, unashamedly naked, aroused and looking at her as if she were the only thing he wanted in the universe. If only she could believe that.
He held out his arms. “I stand here before you, Zenamulous of the Crow Warriors, the king’s wizard, from a line of wizards dating back to the time of Transformation. I have never used my magic to increase my wealth or power, though occasionally I have used it to increase another’s pleasure. I have never repressed my passions, but I’ve never forced them on anyone either.”
His chin lifted proudly, but Dorothy could see a hint of vulnerability darken his gaze. “And from the moment I saw you, I knew you were mine.”
The ball was in her court. She could see it in the way he held himself so still. He wouldn’t use words or powers to woo her, wouldn’t take her in his arms or sweep her off her feet. She would have to make the next move. She would have to choose to trust him…or not.
In spite of her pique, in spite of her insecurities and his past, the choice wasn’t hard at all. Hadn’t she ridden a storm to find him? A few steps were nothing after that. She stopped directly in front of him, making sure he had a clear view. One twist of her fingers and the blanket fell silently to the floor.
His fiery stare scorched her skin. There could be no doubt he liked what he saw. His nostrils flared when she laid one tentative hand on his bare shoulder, skimming it down his arm to wrap around his wrist. He raised his eyebrow and she smiled, lifting his hand and covering it as it cupped her breast.
Dorothy closed her eyes, reveling in the feel of his hand on her. “Oh none of that.” Her lids lifted, startled at Z’s low command. “I want you to see everything. To look in your eyes as I make you come again and again and again.”
Just that quickly she was trembling, arousal coating her sex and heating her thighs. He inhaled. “Makers, you smell amazing. I don’t think I can wait to taste you.” He knelt in front of her and she gasped, grabbing his shoulders as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss against her clit. He spread the lips of her pussy wide and flattened his tongue against her, as if he were absorbing her into his blood stream.
Z growled against her sex, the vibration weakening her knees until she was leaning heavily against him, her body bowing over his, hair grazing his back. He grabbed her waist, pulling her down to the floor and lifting her legs over his shoulders.
Dorothy lifted her head to watch him staring at her from between her thighs. She felt a moment’s insecurity. Her body was totally visible, completely open to him. He sensed her hesitation. “You have the most sensual body I’ve ever seen. Soft curves of silk and cream. I could drown in you. You are a goddess, sweet Dorothy. Let me worship you.”
Her head fell back against the cool floor as he disappeared between her legs. She gasped when his tongue thrust deep inside her sex, his palms spreading her ass cheeks wide, opening her completely to him.
When his thumb, damp with her juices, pressed against her ass, she trembled. Hadn’t she fantasized, as she’d watched him entering that young, beautiful man, watching the look of pain and ecstasy on his angelic face as the wizard rode him that first night? Hadn’t she touched herself and dreamt of him inside her in that way? So forbidden. So wanton. Oh God.
He pushed through the tight muscles, biting her inner thigh at her groan. “No one has ever touched you here.” It wasn’t a question. “I will. I want you on your knees, begging for my cock in your ass. Shit, I could come just thinking about how you’ll feel around me. You’re so tight, baby, but you can take me.” He twisted his thumb inside her, and she screamed at the fullness.
“Not yet, but soon. Now I want to feel you come against my tongue, taste your sweet cream.” His actions matched his words, his tongue sliding deep inside her pussy, fucking her as he pushed his thumb in and out of her ass.
Her love for two men could save their future. Her secrets could destroy them all.
The Chancellor’s Bride
© 2009 Kirsten Saell
Recently re-elected Chancellor Collin sur-Gaerig is a rising star on the political scene, and everyone expects he’ll soon be rewarded with an estate and title. He also has a dirty little secret: he’s in love with his manservant, Harral. If anyone—especially the wife he’s expected to take—discovers their affair, all his aspirations will go up in smoke.
The mysterious woman he finds lying half-dead in the street is strong, beautiful, independent…and aroused when she catches him and Harral in a compromising position. As Aelis worms her way past their closely guarded defenses and into their bed, they realize she’s the perfect match for both of them.
But Aelis has a secret of her own, an ex-lover’s blackmail scheme that could get them all killed. To save the men she’s co
me to love, she’s willing to sacrifice her own happiness, maybe even her life.
Collin’s not about to let that happen. For the first time in his life, he’s willing to risk it all in order to have it all. Even if it means he could lose the man he’s loved for years—and the woman they both want to love forever.
Enjoy the following excerpt for The Chancellor’s Bride:
“Come for another eyeful?”
She didn’t scream—no sound could have squeezed past her heart where it lodged, pulsing, in her throat. She did jump half a foot in the air, spinning on her heel and shrinking against the wall.
Harral—gods, where had he come from?—stood there in an untucked shirt and trousers, near enough that she could feel his heat on her all-too-bare skin. As she tried pointlessly to think of some excuse for her being outside Collin’s bedroom door, he crowded even closer, his eyes burning, mouth curved in a smug little smile. His menacing posture was a blatant reminder of the incident last night, but she didn’t turn her face away this time. She couldn’t. His gaze held her rapt, helpless, a thrall.
Time seemed to creep along as he placed one hand on the wall beside her head, and the other gently on her neck. The pressure of his fingers was terrifying and thrilling at the same time. Her pulse-point fluttered against the pad of his thumb, and he stroked across it once, twice.
“That’s what you’ve come for, isn’t it?” he said, his voice soft and smooth as silk. “It excited you to see me fucking him last night. It made you wet between your legs.”
She thought about denying it, but what would be the point? Her knees had turned to water. Despite her rapid breaths, she couldn’t seem to get enough air. If not for his hand at her throat and the wall at her back, she’d have collapsed in a heap. His breath fanned her face like the wind from a furnace. Her cunt filled with pressure, so hot and wet she thought she’d come at the merest touch.
He leaned in until his lips were next to her ear. “Or maybe you’d like to join us. Is that it? Does the thought of us both taking you make your cunt wet?” His hand slid downward by increments, his fingers stealing under the plunging, lace-edged neckline of her bed-gown. His mouth touched her neck, first lips, then tongue, then teeth, raising a shiver of need across her flesh.
“Please…” she whispered.
Please what? she had the lingering sense to wonder. God, definitely not please stop. If he stopped, she thought she might die. Her hands sought out the taut muscles of his abdomen through the fine linen of his shirt. Then his fingertips closed over her nipple and she let out a ragged moan, pulling him close.
That was all it took, that small gesture of acquiescence, for his calm to evaporate. The rasp of his stubble scraped her jaw as his lips sought hers, slanting over them, tongue plunging deep. His hand cupped her breast, squeezing, his thumb flicking across the peaked nipple, sending a bolt of pleasure straight to her soaking pussy. Pressing forward, he ground his cock against her mound, and she angled her hips to bring her clit harder against him. Her hands found their way under the hem of his shirt, clutching at the rough-textured skin of his back.
He tore his lips from hers, jerked the strap of her gown from her shoulder to bare her breast, lowered his mouth to it. Sucked so hard she had to bite her lip to keep from screaming.
He paused long enough to growl against her skin, “This is what you want, isn’t it? Tell me you want this.”
She was drowning in lust, one hand fisted in his hair, holding his face to her breast. God, she did want this, she wanted everything he’d said, all of it. “I…”
His lips closed over her nipple once more, pulling hard, his tongue flicking across the hypersensitive bead. She opened her eyes to watch the motions of his mouth on her flesh and in the periphery of her vision saw Collin standing in his open bedroom doorway.
With a cry, she shoved Harral away from her, slid down along the wall a few steps, distancing herself from them both. Swiped a hand across her mouth as if she could wipe away Harral’s kisses.
Collin, dressed only in loose Kahlian sleeping trousers, let his gaze crawl from her tousled hair and swollen lips to her exposed breast. Cringing inwardly, she jerked her strap up and fruitlessly tried to tidy her hair, then realized in horror that his gaze had settled on the junction of her legs. She glanced down to see a patch of her own wetness on her gown, a perfect match for the smaller one on the front of Harral’s trousers.
Her face hot, she resisted the urge to cover herself and forced her gaze to Collin’s.
“Please, don’t the two of you stop on my account,” he said quietly, his lips curling upward at one corner.
Oh, god, what had she been thinking, coming out here to spy on them? Yes, she wanted this. She wanted them both. Could hardly make herself think of anything else. But what she wanted and the safe, sane, intelligent choice were two completely different things. Regardless of what she’d told Collin in the library, this wasn’t just business to her anymore. She couldn’t afford to get involved with these men.
“I’m sorry,” she said hoarsely. “This was a mistake. If you’ll excuse me…”
She turned and fled down the hall, but Collin’s voice froze her with her hand on her doorknob.
“I have decided to accept your offer of payment, Aelis,” he said.
Her breath wheezed to a stop. Slowly, she turned to face him. Harral stood panting where she’d left him, his hair mussed, face flushed, eyes hot and hard. Collin, in comparison, was the picture of composure. She opened her mouth to rescind the offer she’d made him in the library, but he cut her off.
“I’ve taken the time to compile a tally of what you owe, from the clothing to the bill from the physician, and I will expect the money within fourteen days. You will not be charged for bed and board—I refuse to put a price on my hospitality—nor for any items you do not take with you when you leave my house. I want to make sure everything between us is fair and above board.”
She blinked, stymied. He wanted money? “Ah…thank you.”
He smiled coolly. “Good. Now that the matter of your debt is settled, I have just one more thing to say. This door—” he gestured toward his bedchamber—“is open to you should you wish to walk through it. It will remain open—in both directions—for as long as it pleases you. But know this—I will permit no more talk of debts or payment. Behind that door, there will be no trade between us but that of pleasure given and pleasure taken. Do you understand, Aelis?”
“Yes” she croaked, her throat so tight she was amazed she could get the word out.
“Freely,” he said, his gaze boring into her, “or it is worth nothing.”
She stared, stuck in place by her own terror. After a moment, Collin reached a hand out to Harral. “Come to bed, love,” he said softly, lacing their fingers together. He led Harral into the bedroom and, giving Aelis one last meaningful look, shut the door behind them.
She stood rooted to the spot just outside her own door. Smoothed one shaking hand down the front of her gown. The patch of wetness had cooled in the air, but between her legs she was on fire.
Why would Collin take her money and then invite her into his bed? He would have both my money and my body, he wants to profit twice from the same transaction, she thought fleetingly. But no. He’d said walking through that door was her choice. And he hadn’t even wanted her money until she’d made it clear there was only one other option, one that was unacceptable to him.
Freely, or it is worth nothing.
He wasn’t treating her the way a man treated a woman. He was dealing with her as an equal.
Her heart began to pound, hard and fast. Before she could talk herself out of it, she walked straight to his door and pushed it open.
She holds the key to unlock his past—or unleash hell.
Love’s Alchemy
© 2009 Ciar Cullen
Sidra Patmos has the ability to see the real underbelly of lower Manhattan—a horrifying world where wraiths, demons and a few quirky mortals battle for supremac
y. Desperate, she seeks out a paranormal researcher to tell her why her life is a waking nightmare.
Instead of answers, her meeting with the dark and irresistible Van Barlowe unleashes a chain of events far more dangerous than her blackest visions. And a desire she can barely manage to hold at arm’s length.
After three desperate centuries, Van has finally found the Alchemist. Sidra. Somewhere locked deep inside her lies the knowledge that will rescue his family from ruin. The only way to reawaken her abilities is to hold his enemies at bay long enough to convince her to step through the mists of time.
Redemption waits there, and a timeless bond ignited by the undeniable pull between them. The missing ingredient: Sidra’s willingness to risk that Van’s attraction runs deeper than sexual chemistry…
Enjoy the following excerpt for Love’s Alchemy:
Sidra sat on the bed and thought about the intense longing for Van that pulled at her, longing older and deeper than possible in the few days she’d known him. She rubbed her palm across the shades of brown silk artfully covering the enormous bed.
“I think he’s still in love with you, Van. I think part of me feels his pain, his fear, his excruciating need for you. I don’t think it died with his body.”
“You finally believe, then?”
Sidra nodded. Since her vision of the past, the evening before, tiny flickers of memory beckoned to her, but she’d been pushing them down. She lay back on the bed, closed her eyes, and with a quick prayer for protection, opened herself to the realization that she was really remembering another person’s life.
“Do you remember any more?”
“Bits and pieces. Nothing important, I’m afraid. The smell of wood burning, the sound of heavy glassware, the laughter of men. Utter exhaustion. The feel of a pen in my hand, my arm shaking from tiredness, my eyes burning from sleeplessness. I feel pangs of unfamiliar pain, emotional pain, as if life itself had become such a burden as to be intolerable. Right before I woke this morning I thought I saw men and women gathered around me as I lay in bed. They were crying.”
Wicked Sexy: Wicked ³, Book 1 Page 9
