by Moira Rogers
Sensual water shifters meet volatile air shifters—there’s a storm coming.
Stormy Seduction
© 2011 Vivian Arend
Pacific Passion, Book 2
As morning-afters go, this one is looking pretty bright. Both air shifter Laurin Marshal and water shifter/shaman Matthew Jentry are aware, though, that trouble won’t be long in coming. And they’re right—before they’ve barely begun to work out the details of their mystical bond, the People of the Air find them to challenge Laurin’s right to choose Matt as her mate.
Fending off Laurin’s would-be suitors is easier than Matt anticipated, but there’s another dilemma still to face. His own people. Laurin is just beginning to trust that his heart and body are completely hers, a radical change after she’s spent the past two years alone and on the run. What will happen when his skittish, innocent partner encounters the playful, sensual—even lusty—ways of the Otter Clan?
Especially since they are arriving at the peak of the traditional summer solstice fertility rituals. And tradition demands they be the main attraction…
Warning: Incoming extreme passion yielding one otherworldly adventure. Don’t let the book length fool you—there’s enough heat in this story to challenge global warming. Four plus two equals one ceremony so explosive it may throw the earth off its axis.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Stormy Seduction:
The kiss was soft, a blessing of his mouth against hers, his fingers tugging through her hair to allow him deeper access, his tongue dancing across the roof of her mouth. A moan of desire escaped her, the need for him to touch her growing by the second. Her breasts felt full and heavy, an aching emptiness between her legs.
It might be sexist, but watching him battle earlier, fighting on her behalf, had really turned her on.
He stroked her cheek. “We can set sail in the morning, and still make it to Bella Coola by dinner on Saturday. Does that give you enough time to prepare for teaching this coming week?”
She thought quickly. “All of Sunday to finish the final adjustments to my lesson plans? Fine by me. Will you be okay for setting up for visits?”
“Easily. Someone is arranging the general drop-in clinic ahead of time. I won’t see individual patients until midweek.” Matt lowered his hand to cup her butt again like he had at the start of the fight. His fingers traced the edge of the bikini bottom she’d pulled on after flying over to the ship. He whispered against her lips, “Why’d you get dressed?”
“I didn’t think you wanted me hanging out while we were getting the Stormchild underway.”
He nodded his understanding even as his fingers massaged her butt cheeks. “Well, for what it’s worth, rest assured I have no issues with you hanging out, ever, around me. No matter what we’re doing.”
Laurin popped open the button on his shorts. “Ditto. Well, I don’t think I want you naked when you’re treating patients.”
He caught her hands in his and pressed her open palms against his rising cock. “You want to play doctor with me?”
The image that popped into her mind had nothing to do with him in a lab coat, but everything to do with an intimate encounter. Did he want to play? Maybe he could take her from behind, pressing her against the raised decking, the glowing sunset shimmering off their bodies. She lowered his zipper and released his cock, smoothing a stroke down the hard length. Capturing the fluid leaking from the tip on her thumb, she lifted her hand to her mouth and sucked it.
He watched her, mesmerized. Pupils dilating. Breath increasing in pace.
The salty taste of his seed splashed over her tongue and she remembered the feel of taking him in her mouth earlier, during their first trip on the Stormchild. Of him filling her, controlling her, and she groaned out with need. She’d loved every second of it.
“Damn it, Laurin.” He dropped his head back and thrust into her fingers. “I can see what you’re thinking.”
What?
He hissed his pleasure out, cupping a hand around hers to tighten her grasp. Every rock of his groin forced his shaft through her fingers from tip to root. “It’s not your hand I see. It’s your mouth. I’m fucking your mouth and it’s so hot and wet and tight. I’m dying here.”
Laurin smiled. He had mentioned that yesterday, and this morning, that he saw her fantasies. She’d never heard of such a thing. Hmm, maybe this was something they should explore in more depth. A mischievous thought overtook her, and she pictured herself on her knees before him, breasts supported only by her bikini bra. Like watching a movie trailer, she zoomed in from a new angle, to see herself looking up, her tongue extending to touch the tip of his erection.
His body jerked at the moment of envisioned contact.
Under her fingers his cock was hot and hard. In her mind it glistened with her saliva as he plunged into her mouth repetitively. Matt groaned aloud, his head dropping to her shoulder, her hands encasing him.
“Oh God, it’s not enough. I need…” His words faded away, his rhythmic thrusts breaking tempo.
His breathing grew frantic but she wasn’t ready to stop. Her mind’s view changed to her lying face down over the raised section in the forward area of the Stormchild. She mentally opened her legs wide, showing him touching her from behind, his cock pressing into her slick opening.
Matt lost it. He pulled her hands from his body and lifted her into the air.
“Matt!”
It was only a few steps later he dropped her to the decking, twirling her around and yanking her against his body. He dragged a hand down her torso, caressing her breasts before fitting between her legs to cup her mound. The very obvious, and very full, length of his erection fit between the cheeks of her ass as he ground against her.
“I need to be in you, Moonshine, not simply watch the pretty pictures.” His fingers slipped to her hip, and he snapped the sides of her bikini with ease. The tatters of fabric fell to the ground. “No matter how incredible the pictures may be.”
He forced her forward, her upper body coming in contact with the smooth wood of the cabin roof. One hand between her shoulder blades locked her in place. He used his knees to separate her legs farther. Then his cock rested at her entrance and she held her breath. He’d placed her in the same position she’d imagined moments before.
“Show me,” Matt demanded.
The visual images returned, this time mixed with the very tactile additions of reality. Not only did she see herself bent over, ass in the air, ripe for his possession, she felt—everything. The solid wood under her torso as her body warmed it. The press of his hand on her back, the cooling breeze off the water dancing over her heated skin.
The exquisite pleasure of his shaft sliding into her sex.
She follows her dreams into his arms…and danger is not far behind.
Anchor
© 2011 Jorrie Spencer
Children are supposed to outgrow night terrors. Mala is the rare exception. At night she dreams of wolves, ones who attack, and the ones her dream-self protects. The effort costs her—one dream often leads to a week of missed work.
After a months-long reprieve, the dreams are back with a vengeance. Her defense of a young wolf from his abusive father is rewarded when the boy mentions the name of a real town. Finally, the chance to learn if her dreams are just as real. She never expected to meet an honest-to-God alpha wolf, much less develop an instant, embarrassing crush on him.
Angus MacIntyre, the de facto alpha of Wolf Town, is determined to see every fugitive wolf employed, educated and well-adjusted to life in the open. The arrival of a young wolf on the run isn’t all that unusual, but the human woman hard on his heels is beyond extraordinary.
The dark-eyed beauty stirs his mine instinct in a way he’s never felt before. She possesses a dream-wraith ability that challenges everything he thinks he knows about his world, and makes her vulnerable to those who might try to use it—and her—to their advantage.
Warning: Wolf towns, bad guys, dreams and non-alpha alph
a wolves, as well as an overabundance of family, and, of course, a healthy dose of romance and sex.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Anchor:
Mala got off the bus, hiked her pack up on her back and walked out of the small station. They had more snow on the ground here than in Toronto, no surprise. She glanced up and down the main road to see it looked like every other small town in northern Ontario she’d just bussed through on the milk run. There were no wolves in sight. She wondered if she gave off an I’m not a werewolf vibe that would alienate everyone she talked to. But from what she’d read, the town had plenty of non-wolf inhabitants. Wolf Town attracted wolves and those with wolves in the family.
Two blocks down she identified a friendly looking restaurant and walked in. The waitress and all five customers turned to stare at her, and she had the impression one of them sniffed.
Courage. She pasted on a smile and marched up to the counter to drop her bag at her feet.
“Hi.”
The woman nodded, and Mala had the same feeling she’d had on occasion when she realized she was the only dark-skinned person in a room full of whites and the whites all noticed. That wasn’t the case here, but she felt out of place, an outsider. Well, for goodness’ sake, she was an outsider. Focus, Mala.
“What would you like?” the waitress asked.
“Um.” Oh yeah, she’d do well to look at the menu posted on the chalkboard. She seized upon the first appealing item listed. “Tuna melt, please, and a coffee. Thanks very much.”
“Coming up.” The waitress didn’t soften exactly, but Mala had the impression politeness had gone some way to ease the wariness in the restaurant. Which had Mala wondering if people here got tourists who came in saying rude things and asking stupid questions.
That said, she had her question to ask. But the waitress made it easy. As she delivered Mala’s plate, she said, “Visiting someone in town?”
Shaking her head, Mala watched the waitress’s mouth tighten. She was about to withdraw from Mala, and she didn’t want to miss the opportunity. Go for it. Take the plunge. “But I am looking for a Caleb. A teenage boy.”
She could feel her face burn. She knew what her blush looked like, a deep, unattractive red. It made her look awkward. In her embarrassment, it took Mala a moment to realize that although the waitress’s eyes had narrowed, she hadn’t answered, hadn’t said something to the effect that she didn’t know any such Caleb.
Good God, could the boy in her dreams somehow be real?
The waitress glanced sideways, meeting the gaze of a tall, dark woman who had risen from her table.
Grim-faced, the woman swept past Mala and out the glass door. Mala glanced from the door back to the waitress, unsure what was going on.
“Want some dessert with that?” the woman asked, her tone frosty. Her pale eyes held a flat expression.
“Um, no thanks.” Mala was having trouble interpreting what had just happened. It wasn’t that awful a question, surely? But the atmosphere had turned creepy, with the waitress looking at her like she was something to wipe off the bottom of her shoe and the customers who remained burning holes in her back. Or so she imagined. Mala’s imagination liked to go into overdrive. The source of all her problems, her father used to tell her with some regularity.
She went with a perky, vacant tone. “I’ll pay up now.” She handed over her credit card.
“Why thank you,” said the waitress with an excess of sarcasm, and took the card, leaving for the kitchen instead of going to the cash register.
Mala snuck a glance at the customers who all suddenly found something to talk about. She really wanted to leave, right away. There’d been stories, of course, stories she’d disregarded, where people claimed Wolf Town was a dangerous place to visit with out-of-control wolves ready to attack at any moment.
She hadn’t been able to believe the government would sanction such a place. Maybe she’d been naïve. She leaned forward on the counter and called out, “Excuse me?”
Though she could see the waitress’s back, the older woman didn’t respond or turn around. In fact, she picked up her cell and began talking. Mala felt trapped and she didn’t think it was an accident. Perhaps she should take her losses and leave without her credit card. Except money was a bit of an issue for her.
The door slammed open then, and she spun on her seat to face a large, broad-shouldered man who strode towards her with purpose. She wanted to pull her own fear together, shape it into a weapon and strike him down—except this wasn’t a dream. So she rose to standing and braced herself, though for what, she couldn’t imagine.
He pulled up short and leaned down to inhale deeply. He held that breath and while he did, his eyes, a vivid blue, changed from angry to…bemused. He blinked once before he exhaled.
“Can I help you?” she asked as coolly as possible. She didn’t like gazing up at him as he stood above her, too close, and she was not used to strange men sniffing her. She didn’t care if that was the norm in this town—along with stealing credit cards.
“I hope so.” His mouth curved up on one side, an attractive warm expression at total odds with the determined, flat look he’d worn as he’d first entered the restaurant, and she found herself overwhelmed by his mere presence. “But first, let me welcome you to Wolf Town.”
She stood at such attention that Angus almost expected a salute. He’d come in here a tad angry, yes. Jancis announcing that someone was after Caleb hadn’t put Angus in the most welcoming frame of mind. But this young woman was a) not a werewolf, b) frightened and c) smelled good.
Okay, she did smell good to him in an appealing she-attracts-me way. Not that it mattered since she was human. But he meant to focus on the fact his nose told him she was on the side of good. His most famed characteristic in the world of shifters was his nose, which managed to suss out when someone was essentially a decent person. Or not.
This dark-eyed young lady with hacked-off hair—was it the style these days?—did not deliberately do people harm.
So perhaps she’d been coerced or manipulated into this. Or perhaps she was being followed unawares. Maybe Caleb knew her. Angus didn’t believe in coincidence.
He realized he’d been circling her and she was trembling, her heart rate not only increasing but accelerating. Obviously his words of welcome couldn’t be taken quite at face value. And his actions were too wolf-like to be comfortable for a normal.
He backed off to sit on a stool two over from where she’d been seated. Then he cut to the chase. “I’m Angus MacIntyre. I’d like to know why you’re visiting us here in Wolf Town.”
Her eyes widened. Recognition of his name, he assumed, given that newspaper articles and such tended to mention him as the one in charge. Some even called him a mayor.
She glanced behind her where, yes, everyone was staring, all five of them. Could be she expected to be attacked. While he disliked some of the assumptions normals made about wolves, he also didn’t intend to bait this woman. He wanted to know about her connection to Caleb.
He could see what it was like for her. She wondered if she’d made a terrible mistake, if she’d stumbled into some kind of trouble she didn’t know how to get out of.
She also didn’t know how to lie, because whatever she was trying to say didn’t come out. Finally the stiff set of her shoulders relaxed in a kind of surrender, though she remained standing.
To the customers and Eden watching, he called out, “I’m trying to have a private conversation here.” They turned away, not that they wouldn’t hear everything anyway, but a semblance of privacy had its uses. To the strange woman, he said, “No one is going to cause you harm in this town. But you’ve shown an interest in one of my people and that interests me.”
Her mouth dropped open and the surprise, almost shock, was real. “Caleb is here?”
“Caleb who?”
“Yes.” She appeared to forget she’d been frightened moments earlier, her intense interest in Caleb surpassing everything else. And it
wasn’t malevolent interest, he was sure of it. Maybe she’d been sent by Caleb’s mother? Though Shanna hadn’t tried very hard to reach out to Caleb since they’d decided to separate to survive Caleb’s father. Angus disapproved of her lack of effort, though he didn’t intend to disparage Caleb’s one non-psychotic parent in front of the boy.
“Yes,” the strange woman repeated. “There are many Calebs in the world.” A line formed between her eyes and she asked the question like so much was riding on it. “He’s not a young boy, is he? A teenager, I mean. He’s not…” her voice dropped to a whisper, as if she could barely believe she was saying the words aloud, “…a skinny black wolf?”
He stared at her. Because of course Caleb was a skinny black wolf, and wouldn’t she be sure of that if she was searching for him? Why would she be looking for someone she didn’t know? He let the silence build, waiting to see if she’d say more. But when he didn’t answer, she seemed to come to a conclusion and covered her mouth with her fist. Her next words made even less sense.
“Oh my God, he’s real?” she said, aghast.
Sabine
Moira Rogers
A curse can erase her from his mind, but never from his heart.
…and the Beast, Book 1
After three years at war, the High Lord of the Forest returns to his lands, a victorious wolf leader intent on claiming his mate. Instead Ciar finds an empty bed and a court with no recollection of the woman he loved. Following her long-cold trail proves far easier than facing what awaits him at the end.
Sabine’s first instinct is to beg her beloved to leave. The High Lord’s mother hired a witch to curse Sabine, desperate to wipe the lowborn wolf from her son’s mind. But the spell worked too well, and Sabine has vanished from the thoughts of everyone who sees her. Including her own family.
The edges of his memory already blurring, Ciar and Sabine must race to find a way to reverse the spell. Yet every searing moment together is not enough to stop the curse’s inexorable progress. His only chance is to bind Sabine to him too tightly to be forgotten, before she disappears once and for all.
