Warrior's Heart: Gifts of the Ancients, Book 1 Page 9

  One & Only

  Rare Vintage

  Phantom Desires

  Brotherhood of Blood (print only)

  Forever Valentine

  Caught By Cupid (print only)

  Sweeter Than Wine

  String of Fate Series

  Cat’s Cradle

  Resonance Mates Series

  Hara’s Legacy

  Davin’s Quest

  Jaci’s Experiment

  Grady’s Awakening

  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.

  Something magic this way comes…

  Wicked Sexy

  © 2010 R.G. Alexander

  Wicked ³, Book 1

  Callie has always known the Abbotts were different. Witches, though they call themselves “Magians”. They are her second family. Harrison Abbott has been her best friend since they were children. Tucker Abbott, her life-long crush. And their brother, Tyghe? A magical pain in her backside.

  When the Abbotts need her human perspective to solve a mystery, she doesn’t hesitate. Especially since it means getting everything she ever wanted. A chance to be one of them, to have magic, even if it’s only temporary.

  Someone is attacking young women at Triune, a ritual that helps Magians find their perfect threesome—the match that will complete their magic and their hearts. Callie expected to be dazzled by her first glimpse into the Magian world, but the bone-melting desire between her and the Abbott brothers isn’t part of the plan.

  Nor is the decades-old secret that makes
her the target of a killer…

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Wicked Sexy:

  Tucker lifted her chin, turning her face up to his. He looked lighter than she’d seen him in a long time. Younger. “Tyghe told me about the energy you were giving off at the salon. I saw for myself what one of us can do to you.” His jaw tightened, almost imperceptibly, but Callie saw it. “We are compatible, Callie. There is no doubt in my mind. Now as beautiful as that dress is, I think its time to take it off.”

  Tyghe surprised them both by ducking his knees and lifting Callie over his shoulder, carrying her, she soon realized, to the wall with the handcuffs. “Oh, hell.”

  He spanked her bottom playfully. “Don’t play coy with us, wicked girl. It wouldn’t be in here if you weren’t at least curious. And I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.” He set her down, lifting her hand to place a kiss inside her palm, his tongue tracing her life line. Callie shivered, and he smiled, slipping one faux-fur lined cuff around her wrist. “In the spirit of honesty, you should know this is not the first time Tucker and I have shared a woman.”

  Tucker swore and Callie flinched, but Tyghe wouldn’t release her free hand, methodically closing the cuff with a loud click. “In fact,” he continued, grunting when he adjusted the chains to raise her arms above her head, avoiding her knee. “For a year or two there, we developed quite the reputation. I’d ‘Tyghe her up’, and he’d ‘Tucker her out’. Remember that, Tuck?”

  Callie glared at him, but it was herself she was angry with. Tied up, the two men staring intently at her, undressing her, she was still aroused. Tyghe unhooked the now flame red dress from behind her neck, letting it drop to the floor, leaving her exposed in nothing but her underwear and heels. She loved the fire that lit in their stormy eyes. She had no shame. They’d done this with other women, and she didn’t care. At least, not enough to ask them to stop.

  That didn’t mean she couldn’t torture them the same way they were torturing her. “Thanks for the history lesson.” She jerked her arms, jangling the chains. “This isn’t my first rodeo either.”

  Tyghe’s smile was tight. “Why do I get the feeling you aren’t talking about what we did the other night? You mean your old boyfriend. How could we forget good old Mitchell? The rebel without applause.”

  “There was nothing wrong with Mitchell.” He just wasn’t Tucker…or Tyghe.

  “There was nothing right about him, either.” Tucker grumbled under his breath, surprising her. The few times he’d come out with Harrison when Callie was with Mitchell, he’d always been polite.

  “He’s the reason Tucker went a little wild for a while. Mitchell was the first guy you seemed serious about, the first one who hung around long enough to meet all of us. I think Tucker fucked his way through half the single females in Boston before he came up for air.”

  “Tyghe, you’re a bastard.” Tucker was unbuttoning his black shirt, his gaze snared by Callie’s hardening nipples.

  “Yeah, I’m the bastard. I just didn’t want her hero worship to blind her to the fact that I’m not the only sinner in this room.”

  Callie started, her gaze colliding with the vulnerability in Tyghe’s grey eyes. They’d been more intimate in the last few days than she’d ever allowed herself to be with another. Made love in positions and places that made her blush to think about. But they’d never spoken of her reaction to Tucker’s touch. Never spoken of Tyghe’s insecurities. Callie had believed he’d gotten over his concerns. Until now. Now she could see that he was still worried, even after all they’d done, that he’d be pushed aside for his older brother. As much as she wanted Tucker to touch her, as much as the revelation that he’d been jealous of her last relationship thrilled her, she couldn’t let Tyghe think she didn’t want him just as much.

  She smiled at him, a little mischievously. “So, what do you do with a woman once you tie her up?”

  What will happen when the hunter becomes the hunted…

  Tempt Not the Cat

  © 2009 J.C. Wilder

  A woman whose chances for love were destroyed…

  After surviving a brutal kidnapping, Erihn Spencer has spent the past eighteen years living in the shadows. Scarred both physically and mentally, she spends her days writing romance novels dealing with the type of relationship she’s avoided. The night before heading into the mountains to start her new novel, a stranger approaches and shakes her world with one perfect kiss.

  A man who could be her savior…

  From the moment Fayne kisses her, the desire to possess this shy beauty is irresistible. Thrown together in a secluded house in the mountains, he’s torn between his need for her and the secrets that are destined to force them apart. As Erihn struggles to break free from years of self- imposed isolation, he finds he is the one who is now trapped by his desires, his dark self.

  Their worlds collide and old secrets lead a bitter enemy to their door.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Tempt Not the Cat:

  She moved like a cat, dainty, her feet barely touching the floor.

  Fayne leaned against the bar, his pint of Scottish ale forgotten. Through the wide arch leading into the coffeehouse, his gaze followed her as she wove her way through the tables filled with chatting patrons.

  Her hair was long and loose, ending just below her backside. To most people, it would appear to be brown but his preternatural eyesight detected glints of red and gold in the long strands. Unbound, it obscured her profile reminding him of Cousin It from The Munsters. Okay, not exactly flattering but the resemblance was undeniable.

  Dressed in a long skirt the color of dirt and an enveloping cream-colored shirt, she was as diametrically opposed to the other women in their barely-there summer dresses as chalk was to cheese. Covered from head to toe with her modest, slightly oversized clothes and long, shaggy hair, she looked as if she were trying to hide from something.

  Maybe everything?

  His chest tightened. He loved puzzles. Curiosity had certainly almost killed this cat a time or two, but that didn’t stop him from his favored pastime. Puzzles drove him mad and women were his favorite riddle. He reveled in their femininity, their scent and their innate sensuality. Basked in the hidden mysteries of their shapely limbs and secretive eyes. Overdosed on their voices and wrapped himself in their beauty while rejoicing in their strength.

  In short, he loved women.

  His eyes narrowed when the stranger stepped onto the stage. Reaching up to adjust the microphone, her slender fingers curled around the base as she raised it to the correct height. With one slim hand she pushed back her hair, allowing him a glimpse of her profile. Dark brows, a lovely cheekbone and a slightly snubbed nose, her skin was creamy pale and her mouth was lush.

  He licked his lips.

  The woman glanced to her left and smiled at her friends as they jostled for better viewing positions on the low-slung couch and chairs. A shy smile curved her mouth and a gentle blush swept her skin. She ducked her head as if embarrassed.

  Even from here he could sense her nervousness. For some of the preternaturals, emotions could be detected by either taste or scent. With the room crowded with people, for most it would be difficult to pick up on any one person. But not him. Her scent was unique and it had already imprinted itself in his brain, becoming part of him.

  Lemon.

  Paper.

  Flowers. Blue Lady roses to be exact.

  And a healthy dose of warm feminine flesh.

  Something dark stirred in him, gently nudging the leash of his willpower. The moon was waxing, and the urge to mate was growing stronger. It’d been over ten months since he’d last taken a woman, and the demands of the approaching full moon were taking a toll on his restraint.

  After the debacle with the vampire Mikhail during winter solstice last year, Fayne’s pleasure-seeking life had been derailed by the unexpected inclusion of a six-year-old mortal child. He smiled at the thought of the boy he called son, Max. Few things were more important to a w
ere-cat than physical gratification and their own creature comforts, but his son was his top priority. Max came first with him.

  Period.

  End of story.

  Even though he loved Max and would sacrifice anything for his welfare, for the next few weeks Fayne was free to do as he pleased. Max was off with his friend Bliss in South America on an archeological dig and having the time of his life.

  Certain that his son was well taken care of, Fayne had other pressing matters to attend to. With only a few more days until the full moon, time was growing short and he had to act fast. He glanced at the women sitting with Shai and Jennifer.

  To Shai’s right sat a stunning brunette with dark red claws. She was lovely, but there was something brittle about her. Across from her sat Melanie Reynolds, the movie actress. She wore a barely-there pink leather dress, and her breasts were in danger of escaping. Too overblown and very married—two things he avoided.

  There was something to be said about subtlety. As he’d prowled through the years, Fayne realized that he appreciated the subtle woman. The one who lightly dabbed perfume on the back of her knees rather than bathing in it. She wore high-collared shirts and demure lace bras rather than crotchless panties and garter belts. A confident woman didn’t need to proclaim her femininity to everyone around her, it simply was what it was. The women most men would overlook intrigued him the most. The shy ones who didn’t command center stage and constantly play the ‘me me’ game. Women who glanced away rather than returning his gaze boldly. Of course they always looked back again, just in case they were mistaken and he hadn’t been looking at them. The subtle shyness, the faint blush of color on their cheeks when they realized it was them who held his attention. They all had their stories to tell—their darkness and their light.

  He lived to ferret out their secrets.

  Turning, his gaze landed on the woman standing on the stage. This beautiful little wren wasn’t so much understating her sexuality as being completely unaware of it. She’d buried her feminine curves beneath layers of ill-fitting clothing and long, heavy hair so that most men would overlook her.