by Mina Carter
A full time author and cover artist, Mina can usually be found hunched over a keyboard or graphics tablet, trying to get the images and words in her head out and onto the screen before they drive her mad. She's addicted to coffee and Nutella on toast.
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Look for these titles by Mina Carter
Now Available:
Reaper
Print Anthology
End of Days
Coming Soon:
Solar Storm
The World after the End of the World will never be the same again…
Reaper
© 2011 Mina Carter
Sanctuary. Clichéd name, but the sentiment is still the same. Ten years after the end of the world, ex-soldier Mason and a small group of humans defend their fortified town against creatures of myth and legend made real. But with dwindling game to hunt and a lycan pack in the area looking for an easy meal, just surviving is getting harder every day.
Andy has a few screws loose, and she knows it. She’s been on the road since the bombs fell and changed humanity forever. Driven by inhuman instincts, she tracks the newly and soon-to-be dead and dispatches their souls to the afterlife. Sometimes they go quietly, most put up a fight. She doesn’t care either way. Her ambition in life is to find her next hit of coffee and one day, maybe, sleep in a real bed again.
Then Andy’s instincts bring her to Sanctuary and its enigmatic leader, Mason, and even the world after the end of the world will never be the same again…
Warning: Contains a snarky female Reaper with a hair-trigger temper and a caffeine addiction, a hot ex-commando with an attitude and a twisted sense of humour and a happily ever after that defies death itself.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Reaper:
“Howdy. What’ll it be?”
The barmaid put a glass away next to an army of its cohorts lining the shelves. Andy wasn’t fooled by the easy manner. If the woman didn’t have at least three weapons within easy reach she was a monkey’s uncle. Or aunt. Whatever.
“A refill of water, and if you’ve got some coffee I’ll love you forever.”
Andy pitched her voice to polite and friendly as she put her water bottle on the bar. Invulnerable she might be, but being shot hurt. Since she had no active job in this town, all she wanted was to resupply, and perhaps get a good night’s sleep.
“Room for a night, if there’s one available. If not, I’ll kip down in here…with your permission, of course.”
The woman, Val presumably, inclined her head. “One water and a meal on the house, coffee you gotta pay for.”
“You trade?” It was what Andy had expected. Her hands were already in her pockets as she withdrew a few trinkets she’d collected on her travels. Lip-salve, a box of old plasters with smurfs on them and a couple of disposable lighters. All suitable payment for the supplies she needed.
Val’s keen eyes assessed the offerings, and she nodded towards a table nearby. “Can do, have a seat and I’ll bring them over. No rooms, you sleep in here. There’s someone on the bar all night.”
Andy’s lips quirked as she turned and headed towards the table indicated. In other words, there will be someone with a gun on you all night, so don’t try anything funny. Good policy.
Reaching the table, she slid her pack off her shoulders and shoved it under the table, out of the way. The intake of breath behind her warned Andy that her sickles had been spotted. She ignored it and sat. Since the whole thing was spelled to be inconspicuous, then that meant there were spells here that countered illusion. She really was going to have to pick up some popcorn.
She lounged back in the chair and took her time looking around the room. She didn’t bother with the people, instead she scanned the walls and the ceiling. She couldn’t see them, but she knew the enchantments were there.
Her water and food arrived. Andy gave up her search. With tricks like holy water and PVA glue to draw devil traps she was sure they’d gotten inventive here too. If she wasn’t very much mistaken then her cutlery was silver plate, and she’d bet her bottom dollar that the water had a drop of the holy stuff in it as well. Boiling Vamps from the inside was a new approach. Nice.
She studied the food in front of her for a while. One of the figures the other side of the room peeled himself from the wall and headed her way. Andy watched him from the corner of her eye. He didn’t walk, he stalked…a predator like her. The rifle in his hand seemed an extension of his being, like her sickles were, and a pistol played peek-a-boo from his shoulder holster.
Most men didn’t bother with holsters, just shoved their pistols into the waistband of their pants. Andy had always wondered how many had done the gene pool a favor and castrated themselves. Stupidity like that didn’t deserve to breed.
“Good work with the Ghouls. I’m impressed,” she commented as he reached the table and spun a chair around to straddle it. He looked back, his blue-grey eyes as blank as his expression.
Cute and hot. Very hot.
She might not be human, but she was female. Everything about this guy—from the blond velvet-like stubble on his scalp to the solid, ripped body the tight T-shirt hinted at—called to every feminine instinct she had. Worse, in the middle of a cruelly handsome face sat a perfectly straight nose and a sinful pair of lips that made even a reaper think wanton thoughts.
“The Brownies impressed me more though.” Andy leaned back in her chair and studied him more closely. To his credit he didn’t flinch. “How’d you manage to waste the little freaks? They’re worse than a bad dose of the clap.”
Mr. Tall, blond, and less-than-chatty shrugged but didn’t answer her question. Instead he nodded at the plate in front of her. “Not hungry?”
The voice didn’t match the rest of the package. Andy had traveled the length and breadth of the land. She’d tracked and reaped virtually every creature within living legend and a fair few that weren’t. The guy in front of her was human, but the voice. Ohmygod, the voice was something else.
If Andy didn’t know better, couldn’t see better, she’d swear he was a Vamp, or even a fae…some being with the ability to hypnotize with sound alone. Smooth as silk, it went down like a good whiskey, making her think of languorous nights in front of a roaring fire. Then the bite kicked in, like the burn of a good shot as it slid down her throat. Satin over a core of pure steel. Of all the creatures Andy had come across on the roads, her instincts warned her that this one, this mere human, was the most dangerous.
“Not particularly.”
She met him look for look. Foolish perhaps but she found she rather enjoyed baiting him. She knew that, even at this moment, he was making the decision on her. One signal, and she’d be treated to the same fate as the Ghoul’s whose blood had decorated the floor beneath her feet.
“Neat.” She nodded to the items on the table. “Silver for Weres. Splash of holy water in the glass by any chance?”
He started, and Andy’s lips quirked again. She’d surprised him. Lifting the glass she took a long swallow then put it back on the table pointedly.
“Just proves you ain’t a Vamp. Take off the glasses.”
Her eyebrow winged up. There was no way to take that as anything other than an order. As a rule she didn’t take well to orders…
“Tell me your name.” She hooked a finger around the arm of her glasses and slid them down her nose to look at him over the top. Dark eyes met light, and her breath caught for a moment. Andy kicked herself. Oh for heaven’s sake, get over it girl. What do you think this is…some kind of great romance novel?
“Mason.”
Oh my, the sparkling conversation was going to be the death of her. She just hoped his talents lay in…other directions. Her mind hit the gutter level as she wondered what all those tight muscles under h
is T-shirt felt like. She sighed, and tried to get her raging libido under control.
“Pleased to meet you, Mason. I’m Andy. You’re not part-siren by any chance, are you?”
He recoiled, disgust written over his features. “I’m not part anything. I’m human through and through.”
Andy kept her skepticism to herself. There was something about him—she just couldn’t put her finger on it.
“So…Andy. How about you? You going to drop the charade, or pick up the silver so we can see what you really are? I warn you though, Old Fred behind you is a crack shot with that sawn-off.”
The man who vows to protect her may be her biggest threat.
Savage Hunger
©2012 Shelli Stevens
Savage, Book 1
Being the daughter of a world-renowned scientist, Sienna Peters has struggled to carve out her own career in the field. But her world is sent spinning when she discovers a secret species being held in the lab where she works, and the horrible things being done to them. Compelled to do more than hand off an information-packed jump drive to her father, she sets out to free the creatures.
The minute his team enters the compound, federal agent Warrick Donovan knows their mission will have more trouble than they bargained on. Unfortunately, trouble comes in the form of Sienna Peters, the younger sister of his close friend. Now not only does he need to save her pretty ass, he needs to discover just how involved she is with the imprisonment of the shifters.
Sienna knows she should trust no one—not even the man she might still love. But as the danger escalates and past passion ignites, her heart has other ideas. Even when the shroud of mystery is ripped off more than one stunning truth…
Warning: Must love alpha males, be intrigued by federal agents who may or may not shift into wolves, and most importantly be prepared for intense action of the dangerous and sexual kind.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Savage Hunger:
“How much trouble are you in?” she asked quietly.
His jaw flexed, before he gave a short shake of his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll face it when the time comes.”
No. Oh, God, no. He was in trouble. None of this would’ve happened if she were a better scientist. Or if she’d gone straight to her father. Or if she hadn’t tried to escape… The last thought sent a wave of guilt and horror through her that sucked away her ability to breathe.
“Stop it,” Warrick muttered fiercely. “I know what you’re thinking, Sienna, and you need to stop.”
“But I promised you I wouldn’t leave the house.” She shook her head, angry tears filling her eyes. A shifter was dead because she was an impulsive, stupid—
Strong hands pulled her across the bed and her mind immediately abandoned its dark path as she found herself dragged up against Warrick’s hard chest. His arms curled around her to keep her cocooned against his warmth and his lips grazed her forehead.
“Dammit, Sienna, I couldn’t watch you die,” the words seemed ripped from him almost as if he hated himself for saying them. “I was willing to risk whatever punishment the elders would pass down on me.”
Whatever punishment the elders would pass down? His words tightened her throat and sent stabs of fear through her. Oh, please no. How had she not considered that Warrick could be in far more trouble than just a slap on the wrist?
“You shouldn’t have to,” she whispered. “This is my fault. It’s always my fault. I shouldn’t have run. I should never have—”
Warrick’s lips covered hers, smothering her frantic words. Her eyes widened before slipping shut, and a sigh of dismay parted her lips.
His tongue plunged inside, claiming her mouth and calming her. Fracturing her guilt and fear into a million tiny pieces, sending her instead to a place of molten heat and need.
Sienna slid her hands up his back, clinging to him and kissing him fervently. Her heart jackhammered in her chest and her muscles turned to jelly with each delicious stroke of his tongue against hers. Her head spun with only the thought of them and this kiss. This connection that she never wanted to end.
Warrick’s hands, so large and rough from life, moved to cup her face. She felt his possessive groan rumble from his chest against her breasts. Arousal sifted through her blood, stirring all the soft and hidden parts of her into awareness.
She slid fully onto his lap so that she faced him and could wrap her naked legs around his waist. Her T-shirt bunched up around her middle and the thin fabric of her panties was little shield from his erection that strained against her through his jeans. A throbbing ache blossomed between her legs. Scalding lava seemed to have replaced the blood in her veins, bubbling and spreading a fire through her body as her arousal grew.
Sienna rocked against him and his hips jerked upward, grinding into her so she felt the thick curl of his need. She moaned low in her throat, wanting so much more as her nipples tightened and panties dampened.
Warrick’s kiss gentled and her heart clenched, because she knew he was going to lift his head in a moment. But he didn’t right away. Seemed just as reluctant to break the kiss as she was. His lips trailed to the corner of her mouth, his tongue flicking and his teeth nibbling while his hips ground against hers. He groaned again, before his head lifted and his lips feathered across her forehead. And then, then he was gone.
The coolness of the air brushed against her skin and Sienna bit her swollen lip, not wanting to open her eyes and face the reality that he’d just ended another sensual moment. That it would go no farther than a heated, passionate kiss.
“Sienna,” he said gently. “Look at me.”
Part of her wanted to deny him like a stubborn child. Keep her eyes closed and stay locked in a moment that had taken her to an alternate reality.
The strong fingers that lifted her chin took the choice from her and her lashes fluttered open unwillingly. His eyes, more gray now than blue, swirled with need and yet a control that clearly spoke he had no intention of acting on his desire.
“If you say that shouldn’t have happened again, I swear I’ll drive my elbow in to your ribs,” she threatened unsteadily.
His lips twitched into what was almost a sad smile. “I’m not going to say that shouldn’t have happened, Sienna. I wanted to kiss you. Had to kiss you and feel you alive and clinging to me. Dammit, when I thought I almost lost you—”
“You can have me, Warrick,” she cut in, her voice husky with desire. She reached for him again, sliding a hand up his jaw and feeling the prickle of stubble there scrape her palm. “All of me. I want you so much right now it’s a physical ache. How can you not see that? Feel that?”
Something close to pain flickered across Warrick’s face as he caught her wrist and pushed it gently away.
“You have no idea how much I want you,” he said raggedly. “But I can’t have you, Sienna—”
“Why?” Her stomach clenched. “Is this some self-imposed torturous rule?”
“No, it’s not my rule. It’s shifter law. We can only mate with other shifters. If we take a human mate we’re banished from the community.”
Her submission can heal him. His dominance can free her.
Impulse
© 2012 Moira Rogers
Southern Arcana, Book 5
Sera Sinclaire is a New Orleans rarity: a submissive coyote trapped in a town overrun by dominant shapeshifters. Worse, she lacks the willpower to deny the alphas-in-shining-armor who need her soothing presence, even when their protectiveness threatens to crush her hard-won self-reliance.
The only shifter she doesn’t want to push away is Julio Mendoza, a wolf so dominant he’s earned a place on the Southeast council.
Julio doesn’t have the luxury of indulging in the vacation his psychic shrink insists he needs. He can’t turn his back on responsibilities he’s beginning to wish he’d never shouldered. When an obsessive ex endangers Sera, though, instinct drives him to get her out of town. Watching her come to life outside the city makes him feel like he’s finall
y done something right, and her touch ignites desire he doesn’t want to ignore.
But soon, lighthearted flirting becomes a dangerous game of seduction, where every day spent falling into each other is another day avoiding the truth. Sera’s ex isn’t the only one who’d disapprove of their relationship. There are wolves who would kill to get Sera out of Julio’s life—starting with his own blood kin.
Warning: Contains endless summer road trips, family drama, redneck werewolves, sexual power games and a taboo love affair between a submissive coyote who’s among the last of her kind and a dominant wolf who loves his heroine’s ass. Literally.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Impulse:
If he didn’t do anything else right, at least he could do this. “We’re going to keep you safe. Whatever it takes.”
“Any of them would have kept me safe.” She unbuckled her seatbelt with a soft click and slid across the bench seat until she was tucked against his side with one arm wrapped around him in a half-hug. “You’re keeping me sane.”
Sane. Exactly what he wasn’t as he cupped the back of her head and tilted her face to his. Insane, that was more like it—for a thousand different reasons.
He kissed her anyway.
She had soft lips. Soft and warm, and they tasted like the cherry ChapStick she’d tossed into her bag a few miles back. Her hand slapped against his chest, fingers splayed wide, then fisted around his shirt as she moaned, low and hungry.
He wanted to delve deeper, bite her lip and slide his tongue into her mouth. Instead, he lifted his head and fought to slow his breathing. Sera’s fingernails dug into his chest as she voiced her protest in a snarl of loss and caught his lips again.
