It's Raining Men
Page 5
Michael lifted his head to glare at our other mate. “Whatever, fairy-boy.”
“Who’re you calling a fairy, fairy?” Stephen flicked his hand dismissively. “It’s Fae, thank you very much.”
A wicked grin lit the human’s face. His palm curved around the back of my neck possessively. “I’m not all fairy.”
Equal possession flashed in the siren’s emerald gaze, and he wrapped his fingers around Michael’s wrist and my ankle. “Me neither…guess that makes us both halflings, doesn’t it?”
Michael’s broad shoulder lifted in a shrug. “As long as Candy gets the other half, sure.”
“Hell yeah.” Pure male ego oozed from both of them.
I rolled my eyes, but cupped my palms around each of their jaws. “The two of you are insane, you know that, right?”
“Yeah,” both men echoed. Stephen stuck his tongue out and crossed his eyes. “But you love us anyway.”
“And we love you.” Michael arched an eyebrow, heaving that patented long-suffering sigh at the Fae’s antics.
I laughed so long and hard, I had to wrap my arms around myself to hold in the mirth, and still it kept coming. Like the tears, I couldn’t stop it. And I didn’t want to. This is what pure joy felt like. This is what belonging was. I’d been so long without the close bonds of family that the ache of it was wonderful. Yeah, they were crazy. And they were going to drive me crazy…for years, I hoped. But this was all I’d ever wanted. Love, contentment, belonging. Now it was mine for the rest of my life. And so were they.
About the Author
Crystal Jordan began writing romance after she finished graduate school and needed something to fill the hours that used to be eaten away by homework. She is originally from California, but has lived and worked all over the United States. Currently, she serves as a librarian at a large research university in the Rocky Mountains and writes paranormal, futuristic and erotic romance.
To learn more about Crystal please visit www.crystaljordan.com. Send an email to Crystal at crystal@crystaljordan.com or join her Yahoo! group to join in the fun with other readers as well as Crystal! http://groups.yahoo.com/group/crystal-jordan
Look for these titles by Crystal Jordan
Now Available:
Treasured
Total Eclipse of the Heart
Big Girls Don’t Die
“I will always love you.” Not just a figure of speech when you're undead.
Big Girls Don’t Die
© 2009 Crystal Jordan
In the Heat of the Night, Book Two
Six months ago, Andre St. James committed the ultimate one-night-stand party foul by turning Cynthiana into the spawn of Satan…also known as a vampire. He insisted he knew they were meant to be together forever and ever, so why wait for her to be on the same page with him to suck the life out of her?
What. Ever. The only thing the two of them share is chemistry that blasts off the charts. So she drop kicked him out of her life and told him to never come back. He listened. Until now.
Andre knows Cyn has trouble dealing with his take-no-prisoners approach to life, and that turning her against her will was a mistake. But he’s got patience born of centuries of immortality, and he’ll do whatever it takes to get back into her good graces and stay there forever. Including wait until she has no choice but to turn to him.
After all, no one understands forever like a vampire. He’s loved her from the moment he saw her…and he always will.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Big Girls Don’t Die:
My hands clenched on the steering wheel. I had to get to my cousin. That’s all I could think. Please, please let Desi be okay. I loved that little girl so much. I was going crazy right now. Worry gnawed at me like a hungry werewolf. One quick look at the speedometer told me that I was about ten miles over the speed limit. They wouldn’t pull me over for that, would they? I pushed my convertible Mini Cooper a little faster.
Flicking a glance down while I punched the speed-dial, I tried to get Misty on the phone for a progress report on Desi. It was a few hours to Las Vegas from Los Angeles, but if I hurried I could be inside the hospital before dawn. Something else to get pissed at Andre for. No reflection, no sunlight.
My stomach rumbled. Oh, yeah. Cravings for blood. Another lovely side effect. When was the last time I had fed? I meant to have something substantial before I went to Eclipse, but Andre had sort of interrupted that plan. I’d barely taken any blood from him, so my stomach felt as if it was digesting itself right now.
“Hi, this is Misty and Desiree, leave us a message—”
“Damn it.” I huffed out a breath and tossed my cell phone on the passenger seat.
My gaze swept the barren landscape along I-15. There wasn’t anything for as far as I could see except dirt and stars and a few ragged Joshua trees. When I glanced back at the road, a large white jackrabbit hopped in front of my car.
“Shit.” I jerked the wheel and swerved to miss it, but the crunch of bone sounded as it bounced against the underside of my car. “Oh, that is just nasty.”
And then my tire blew up. Rubber popped. The Mini Cooper’s back end spun out. My heart stuttered as my pretty little car made grinding noises when the metal of my tire rim hit pavement.
“Shit, piss, motherfucker. Oh God. Oh God.”
Skidding off onto the soft shoulder of the road, the car finally came to a stop. I sat there and panted while my heart rate galloped. My knuckles showed white on the wheel, and I had to force myself to relax my grip and reach down to shift into park. My hands shook on the door handle when I hauled myself out to go look at my tire. I walked around the car to the passenger side and kept an eye out for crazy-ass drivers who might be too blind or stupid to see the emergency flashers on my car and hit me. Oh, yeah. That was the flattest tire I’d ever seen. Little bits of rubber hung off it and flopped on the ground.
“Spare tire, Cyn. Put it on and get the hell to Vegas.” Popping my trunk, I—What the hell?—Where were the jack and tire iron? I had forgotten to check for them in this car when I bought it from the used car dealership last week. Now that I needed ’em, they were nowhere to be found. Fan-damn-tastic. Time to call in reinforcements.
I opened the passenger door and fished around for my cell phone. Please, please, please let me have cell phone service. I was in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, not daring to look. My breath whooshed out when I saw I had full bars. I pulled in a deep breath while I dialed my roadside assistance number. The number was programmed into my phone, just in case. You never knew when a Rambo-wannabe jackrabbit would hang on to your bumper and use his last breath to shred your tire. Fucking bunny.
I punched in all the appropriate numbers and listened to a recorded voice tell me to call 911 if it was a life threatening emergency. Well, duh. “Hello? I have a flat tire, and I need someone to come put on my spare—”
The woman dispatcher’s professionally concerned voice cut me off. “Okay, ma’am. Are you in a safe area?”
I looked around at the miles and miles of dirt. “I’m kind of in the middle of nowhere, but I guess I’m safe.”
“Good. Now where are you exactly?”
“I’m not sure. I’m eastbound on I-15 about a hundred miles west of Las Vegas. I don’t see a call box or any mile markers.”
“So, you’re east of Las Vegas—”
“No, I’m west of Vegas going east toward Vegas.” I rolled my eyes.
“What city did you just pass?”
Did I just speak English? I swear I’d told this woman I had no idea where I was. I was worried about Desi, not about where I might pop a tire. “I’m not sure. I know I’m about a hundred miles west of Vegas.”
“All right, ma’am. We’ll dispatch someone, and they should be there in about twenty to thirty minutes.”
“Thank you!” I could be with Desi soon, then. I shivered as the cold desert night air hit my bare shoulders and legs. Hurrying back to the driver’s s
ide, I slid into my seat.
Twenty minutes later, my phone rang. Oh, good. Must be the tow truck driver.
“Hello?”
An older female voice responded, “Hi, Ms. Trent. I’m sorry, but we won’t be able to dispatch anyone until we know your location. Can you tell me exactly where you are?”
I blinked. “Um. I already told the last lady I talked to.”
“Can you tell me again?”
Okay, stay calm. I’d only been on the side of the road for about half an hour. Everything was fine. “Sure. I’m not one hundred percent sure of where I am, but I’m eastbound on I-15 about a hundred miles west of Las Vegas.”
“Are there any mile makers nearby?”
“No.” And I sure as hell wouldn’t wander around in the frigid ass desert to look for one.
She was silent for a long moment. “Um. All right, ma’am. We’ll dispatch someone, and they should be there in about twenty to thirty minutes.”
“Sounds good.” I sighed and dropped the phone on my lap.
Twenty minutes later, my phone rang.
“Hello?”
A pleasant male voice answered. “Hi, Ms. Trent. I’m sorry, but we won’t be able to dispatch anyone until we know your location. Can you tell me exactly where you are?”
A deadly crash changes the fate of one lonely vampire.
One and Only
© 2008 Bianca D’Arc
A Brotherhood of the Blood story
Vampire enforcer Atticus Maxwell stands at the edge of his own oblivion…until the faint heartbeat of a desperately wounded mortal woman calls him back. The terrible crash that almost took both their lives has brought him a charming, intriguing woman who just might give him a reason to live again.
Lissa was headed for a conference at a resort in a last-ditch attempt to find a job. Instead, on a rain-slick mountain road that almost killed her, she finds the love of her life. A love with the most eligible, reclusive vineyard owner in Napa Valley—one that isn’t quite human.
No barrier—not even breaking the news to Lissa’s friends—seems too great to hold back their blossoming love. Until they learn the accident that brought them together wasn’t an accident at all, but a murder attempt by an unknown enemy.
Atticus saved Lissa once. Can he keep her that way in the face of a renewed threat?
Enjoy the following excerpt for One and Only:
When Lissa Adams woke, darkness engulfed her. Straining to see in the absence of light, her breath accelerated as she panicked. Her apprehension only grew when she realized another person lay beside her. A soft dripping sound echoed through what she supposed was some kind of underground chamber or cave. That’s what it sounded like—and smelled like. She felt rough rock and scattered grains of sandy dirt beneath her palms.
She knew the mountains were dotted with such places, but she couldn’t remember how she’d gotten here. Or why she was so groggy.
She tried to sit up, but the effort it required nearly blacked her out again. The being beside her stirred at her movement, and she felt more than saw the person rise to lean over her.
“Where are we?”
“I moved us to shelter.”
Rich and warm, his voice bathed her senses in a dark and dangerous way.
Sexy, she thought. She’d heard that voice before.
It was accompanied by flashing eyes and chiseled features. A man’s face flickered through her mind. She’d been fascinated by him and instantly captivated. She remembered thinking he was quite possibly the most striking man she’d ever seen.
“You stepped on my foot.”
He chuckled at her innocent observation, setting her insides aflame.
“Indeed. But that was more than twenty-four hours ago.”
He stroked a gentle finger down her cheek and she shivered, not in fear, but in surprising arousal. If just the brush of his finger could elicit this response, she wondered what he could do if he really tried.
That thought stopped her cold. Men like this one didn’t usually go for women like her. Better to focus on the peculiar situation she found herself in than daydream about her rescuer.
“What happened? I remember the bus swerving…”
“Ah, yes. Just before we rolled down the side of the mountain. You hit your head very hard, I’m afraid. That’s probably why you’re still a bit fuzzy.”
“Where’s everyone else?”
He paused only slightly. “Dead.”
Her breath caught in shock as her mind raced. “How did we…?”
“Relax, sweetheart.” He moved closer. “I pulled you from the wreckage and found shelter, but I was badly damaged in the accident as well. I’m sorry for it, but I need your essence to speed my healing.”
“My what?” Hot breath bathed her ear as he settled closer to her side. His strong arms enveloped her shoulders as his mouth stroked over the line of her jaw and lower.
“Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you, but I need your blood, and I’m too weak to cloud your mind. You’ll have to trust me.” His words whispered against her shivering skin. He dragged sharp teeth back and forth over her jugular as if savoring the moment before the feast.
She barely had time to take in his words before he struck. A piercing pain registered only for a flash, followed by the greatest bliss she had ever experienced. Intensely sexual, it engulfed her in a way she’d never known. He sucked at her neck, licking at the essence of her, swallowing like a thirsty man in the desert. Yet reverence and gentleness communicated through his tender handling of her bruised and battered body.
Oddly, she didn’t object. She knew she should be afraid, but an intense arousal overwhelmed her. She didn’t have the strength to voice even the faintest protest.
He drank for what seemed a long time, his hands moving over her body, molding her breasts and stroking her skin. Only then did she realize she was naked. She gasped as his long fingers stroked down between her legs, angling inward, invading her most intimate places as his mouth caressed the tender skin of her throat.
He knew his way around a woman’s body. Those skilled fingers knew just where to stroke, just where to pinch to drive her excitement to the highest possible point. She teetered on the precipice as his fingers slid in the arousal he drew from her body. His mouth sucked at her neck, his breath feathering through her hair, his pleasing masculine scent teasing her senses. And the feel of him. He was hot and heavy against her, hard as only a man could be and muscular in a way she hadn’t expected.
One hand cupped her breast, teasing her nipple as his fingers finally pierced the imaginary boundary, sliding inside her, where few men had ever been. But this man—though she’d known him only a few minutes, really—was like no other man she’d ever encountered. He fired her senses like no other, sending slick, hot arousal to her core. Even the thought that he was some sort of dark creature out of legend couldn’t stop the most intense sexual experience of her life.
That one tantalizing finger pumped into her, stretching her. He added a second digit as she whimpered in need. She hadn’t had sex in a long time. She was tight, but her body remembered pleasure, and this man—this vampire!—proved himself a master at manipulating her responses. He owned her pleasure.
Two long fingers stroked within, his thumb teased higher, rubbing in perfect counterpoint. She came with a wrenching jerk of hips that threatened to dislodge him, but his great strength kept her easily in his clutches. He continued the stimulation, extending her orgasm for long, intense moments while his upper body covered hers, his lips feeding hungrily from the small incisions he’d made in her neck. The pleasure washed over her in the most intense waves she’d ever known and right then she didn’t care if he was a vampire, werewolf or Indian chief. All she knew was his mastery. And she already knew she wanted more.
Never look back…
Midnight Reborn
© 2008 D. McEntire
A Watchers story
After suffering years of abuse as the virtual prisoner
of a drug lord, Robyn Andrews has had enough. A carefully planned escape is her only hope for survival. Her past nipping at her heels, she boards the first bus out of town and heads for Louisville, Kentucky.
Trigg is a Watcher with two missions in life. One, to hunt and eliminate Rogue vampires. Two, to be left alone. Yet he can’t bring himself to harden his heart against the petite woman who looks so lost standing in the rain. And when Robyn joins him in a battle against Rogues, the little spitfire shows the bravery of ten Watchers. She’s someone special, someone he needs in his dark life.
Someone he can never have. He’s vampire; she’s human. A future for them is impossible.
But the past has a way of catching up—and changing destinies with deadly speed.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Midnight Reborn:
Trigg woke up with a start. His dreams had plagued him while he slept and left him feeling heavy, both inside and out. His mind suddenly jumped to Robyn and he wondered if she had found the note he had left.
When he had first gone to bed he lay there awhile, trying to drift off to sleep. Robyn’s clothing situation had popped into his head. He slid out of bed, went downstairs, and left her a note about the cash they kept in the office for emergencies, as well as the closest place for her to buy clothes. He hoped she found the clothing store on Fourth Street easily and enjoyed herself.
Something inside made him want to cheer Robyn up and see her smile. Her eyes held much sorrow and pain. There was no light, no spark in them and it made his heart ache.
Trigg took a deep breath, let it out and prepared to meet those eyes once again, dreading to see condemnation in them for the monster that she most likely believed he was. She had probably spent the day thinking about what she had seen last night, what he had done to the Rogue, not to mention how he had lost control with Vane.
Robyn removed the biscuits from the oven and set them on the table. The aroma of roast and biscuits wafted up towards the bedrooms. She smiled when she glanced upstairs and saw both Rayne and Vane open their doors at the same time and poke their heads out to check out the smell. It wasn’t long before they came bounding down the stairs.