Fabulous Friday Reads: Impossible
TGIF! Let’s kick off the weekend with Allyson Young’s hot new Romance On The Go™ Impossible, now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine online romance. Take it away, Allyson!
Both being extremely independent and familiar with rejection, Celeste Hill and Elliot Godwin have a short but intense time together, something very special.
She heads off to a coveted job, leaving him to puzzle out how he might pursue a connection he’d never dreamed of having. And, despite pursuing her dream, Celeste can’t stop thinking about Elliot and what might have been.
Returning home before he can follow her, she tells him they are pregnant. Impossible. Believing he’s sterile, the reason his wife left him, Elliot is devastated—and lashes out. Celeste flees his cruel words, putting distance between them, and now determined not to name him as the father of their child.
But miracles do happen and men can come to their senses. Elliot follows his heart and Celeste again opens hers for their happily ever after.
Story Excerpt
Knowing the majority of her response was hormone-fueled did nothing to mitigate the meltdown. How hard had she held herself against the news until now, sharing with no one but him? Forgoing the acceptance and excitement of her friends and family… Doing the right thing, notifying the father first. She sobbed and choked until she thought her throat would tear and her lungs collapse, her cheeks raw with the deluge. Her baby… She pressed a hand against her abdomen, whispering a heartfelt reassurance. Not about you, sweetheart. I love you.
It felt like hours but was, in reality, a few short minutes before she wrestled back her composure, albeit as a soggy wreck of exhaustion.
Impossible. She’d sorted out the reasoning—and ensuing rejection—behind his flat comment in short order. But it wasn’t impossible. He was capable regardless of what he believed. The tiny seed in her belly was living proof.
But it didn’t matter. He thought she’d come to him, pregnant with another man’s child, to cadge… She couldn’t bear to think of what he thought of her. His opinion didn’t matter either. Asshole.
Fumbling for a wad of tissues, she mopped up what remained of her makeup and took a shuddering breath, pushing any thought of Elliot Godwin from her head.
A tap on the window drew a muffled shriek as she started, turning to stare at his unwelcome bulk hunched over her little car, his handsome face only inches away. His silvery eyes were narrowed, cold and impenetrable, not at all like the turbulent wash of emotion when he’d been as deep inside her as any man could be in a woman. Planting their child.
As emotionally drained as she was, she couldn’t help the faint shiver of that arousing memory before dispatching it. Stupid hormones.
She eased the window down a notch. “What?”
His gaze took in her face and she knew what he saw. She never cried prettily, but then she rarely cried. Make that never. Tears were for the weak. He would know that.
“Are you all right?”
Like he cared. She was a slut, remember? Well, maybe not—Elliot didn’t judge, at least about consenting adults sexing things up. So, what then? What was a woman called who tried to stick a guy with a kid that wasn’t his? Something far worse in his eyes, for sure.
“I’m fine.” She whirred the window back up and threw the vehicle into gear.
With cautious regard to his proximity, she drove forward and then guided the car back onto the pavement, ignoring his tall form in the mirror.
Where to Buy
Evernight Publishing | Amazon | Kobo | Barnes & Noble
About the Author
Allyson Young lives in cottage country, Manitoba, Canada with her husband and numerous pets. she has always enjoyed the written word, and after reading an erotic romance, quite by mistake, decided to try her hand at penning one.
A best selling Amazon author, a hybrid author, as of December 2017, along with her alter ego and three co-authors, she has published four series and several standalones in contemporary, sci fi, fantasy and suspense genres–50 books in total.
Allyson will write until whatever is inside is satisfied, until the heroes man up and the heroines get what they deserve. Love isn’t always sweet, and she favours the darker side of romance.
Mid Week Tease: To My Muse #MidWeekTease #MWTease
Hello, lovelies! This week To My Muse was released, and I want to feature a rather nice scene between Tom and Lily.
Many thanks to Angelica Dawson for hosting us, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
If I’d had to spend the time before the party alone with Tom, we were not staying out of that amazing bed, and once that happened I’m not sure I’d have the strength of character to get dressed and go to the party. I wouldn’t put it past our hostess to realize that and take steps.
I followed Ana’s assistant to the other side of the house, where she showed me down a hallway to a luxurious bedroom suite done in shades of teal and cream that was easily large enough to host one of my grandparents’ parties. Nathan was nowhere in sight, but what sounded like a Bach cantata drifted out of a side room. “She’s waiting for you,” Sue said, waving at the doorway.
I poked my head in, and immediately fell in love with one of the most gorgeous old school dressing rooms I’d ever seen. The dominant tone was a warm, feminine peach that went beautifully with the immaculate white woodwork along all the walls. More white woodwork surrounded glass-fronted shelves over wide drawers and an amazing number of closet compartments. An elegant black ironwork chandelier with frosted glass lampshades rimmed in terra cotta hung from an oval cutout in the ceiling, and a huge custom vanity table had been built into another wall with more shelves on either side of a ginormous mirror in an antique square silver frame.
Ana sat at the table wearing a silk robe with her hair skimmed back behind a head wrap, calmly dabbing some cream onto her face. I wasn’t used to seeing her without makeup on; I knew she was somewhere in her late sixties, but she had that Helen Mirren gift of good skin that had held up extremely well over the years. There were wrinkles here and there, yes, but they looked tasteful and appropriate, as if a completely smooth face would have been unbearably gauche.
She smiled at me in the mirror. “Hello, Lily. Did you have a pleasant time today?”
“Yes, and thank you so much for sending us to Huffington’s,” I said. “Wait until you see the dress Tom bought.”
“What color?”
“Deep sapphire blue.”
Her eyes lit up. “Oh, that will look marvelous on you. And that works out well for me, too. Sue, bring the Bulgari Festa set, please.”
The PA disappeared through yet another doorway, returning with a black velvet case. She opened it and I gasped. Inside was a spectacular pendant necklace made up of what I had to assume was white gold, with sprays of diamonds and sapphires around a perfect cushion-cut sapphire that was big enough to choke a horse. The chain was constructed of white gold teardrop loops crusted with more diamonds and sapphires, each loop interspersed with a solitaire diamond.
“Oh, Ana, that is completely gorgeous,” I said, every sparkly-loving atom of my being lusting after that magnificent necklace. “Are you wearing this tonight?”
“No, my dear. You are.”
Screech. “I—what?”
She smiled. “If you’re wearing the sapphire blue Christian Siriano that Taffy mentioned to me, then this will go perfectly with it.” She turned to Sue. “I believe the Le Magnifiche Creazioni earrings will go well with this.”
Sue beamed at me. “They’re in the bottom of the case, madam.”
“Excellent. I do appreciate your foresight, my dear.”
Aaaaand motor functions came back on line. “I can’t wear this!” I squeaked. “This is Bulgari!” I knew Bulgari jewelry, had mooned over it in Vogue and other fashion magazines, but never thought I’d be allowed within touching distance. To wear it? Holy Kali and all her hands, this one necklace had to be worth more than everything I’d ever owned put together. “What if I spill something on it? What if I drop it?”
“Well, if you spill something on it, you can always wash it off,” Ana said practically. “It’s the nice thing about metal and gemstones—they’re very hard to stain. And the latch will make sure it stays in place.”
The practical side of me recoiled from the very idea of touching that gorgeous pendant, much less hanging it around my neck. The princess side of me wanted to squeal and go show it off to Tom. “Ana, I can’t—”
“Yes, you can. In fact, I’ll be very disappointed if you don’t wear it tonight.” She gave me a faux-stern look. “And you don’t want to disappoint your hostess, do you?”
I swallowed hard. It would be rude to turn down such a generous gesture, that was true. And it wasn’t as if I’d be wearing it outside where something bad could happen. They’d have security at this party, right?
“No, I don’t,” I said in a small voice. “Thank you.”
“There, that’s settled.” She tapped her lips. “I thought you might want to get ready here, since there’s plenty of room. Sue will show you to the shower and you can freshen up, then we’ll have Celeste get to work on your hair while Matthiu does my makeup, then we’ll trade. It’ll leave Thomas with your bathroom to himself. That way, you won’t need to dance around him to get at the mirror.”
The thought of Tom getting ready in the bathroom, fresh out of the shower with a towel wrapped around that muscular waist, made my eyes cross a little and a whole lot of regret gush through me. Before I could say anything, a gorgeous black woman in a sleek black pinstriped smock and a man with a purple-tinted beard came in. Ana gave them air kisses and introduced me while Sue bustled around pulling more items out of the closets.
Celeste clicked her tongue as she studied my hair. “Oh, you’re going to be a handful, gorgeous,” she said in a cheerful East End accent. “What products do you use?”
I rattled them off with an apology for presenting her with my nightmare cloud of hair. She waved it off. “Don’t fret, pet. I’m an expert with curls. We’ll tame them into something spectacular, wait and see.”
Meanwhile, Matthiu stroked his beard as he stared at my skin. “Absolute silk,” he declared. “What are you wearing tonight?”
“Um, a dress?”
“I meant color, angel.”
“Cobalt blue,” Ana advised. “With a fairly deep V neckline, so make sure the makeup carries over onto her chest.”
That earned her an eye roll for the ages before he turned back to me. “Right, you. Off to the shower, and I want your face clean and bare. Don’t moisturize—I’ll take care of that.”
“Uh, okay.” This was starting to remind me of family weddings where various aunties would pull me into a bedroom and get me dolled up in proper Hindi maiden finery since that was out of Mom’s wheelhouse. At least tonight I didn’t have to worry about someone hovering with a giant needle and wondering if they had time to pierce my nose.
I hoped.
****
After a long shower and a relaxing orgasm assisted by a fantasy of a naked and very enthusiastic Lily, I touched up my shave and cleaned my teeth. Once that was done, there was nothing else to do but wander into the empty bedroom, a towel wrapped around my waist in case my spunky screenwriter came back early. Although I doubted that was going to happen. Ana had clearly taken her in hand and was going to work some supermodel magic tonight.
Which, if I was being honest with myself, bothered me a little. I’m sure the results would be spectacular, but I rather liked Lily in her capris and Vans, hair loose and curling around her face. If Ana did the job that I knew she could do, Lily would wind up suitably coiffed and dressed for the cover of Vogue. Worse, she could well wind up the belle of the ball tonight. Assuming that Nathan invited his usual mix of industry movers and shakers, vencap types, and a few out and out billionaires, it meant that there would be any number of rich, handsome men at the party tonight who would take one look at her and offer to sweep her off to a Vail ski lodge or Lake Como palazzo without a second thought.
Whereas I couldn’t even pay her for a script treatment. The more I thought about it, the more I regretted haggling on her points with Theresa. I must have come off as a skinflint bastard.
Well, that settled it. Even if it had to come out of my share, I was bumping up her percentage to a full two points. I’d let her know as soon as she got back. Hopefully that would be enough to stop her head from being turned by some A-lister with a private jet.
Grateful that I’d remembered to pack dress socks, I got dressed from the skin out in my new duds. Once the fancy silk tie was in place, I settled back down with La Popessa, running through the now-familiar text and mentally casting various roles. I had just hit on Liam as a good fit for one of the monsignors when the door opened and I looked up. “Finally. I thought I’d have to send the fire brigade—”
The joke died on my lips as I stared at the vision that floated into the room. Oh, Ana, you wicked, talented woman, you. I wasn’t going to have to fight off studio execs and venture capitalists. I was going to have to fight off every straight man in the place, and probably a few lesbians for good measure.
I already knew that the ridiculously expensive but gorgeous frock skimmed Lily’s curves like a McLaren performance vehicle on an Alpine road. But Ana hadn’t stopped there. A professional had taken brushes and makeup to Lily’s face and made her skin glow and her eyes sparkle. Her dark curls were now twisted and tamed in an elegant updo that let delicate little ringlets frame her face, and whatever scent she was wearing should have been marketed as “Devastating” and only sold to licensed dealers.
If that wasn’t enough to throw me for a loop, the sapphire that hung over her deliciously plump décolletage could have choked a Christmas goose. “My God,” I murmured. “You’re beautiful.”
She bit her lips gently as her blush deepened. “I feel like Cinderella.”
“Good. You should.” I stood, tugging my jacket straight and trying to will my libido down. Thank God for tight boxer-briefs is all I can say. “I take it the jewelry is Ana’s?”
Lily touched it gingerly. “She insisted I wear it. I’m freaking out just thinking about it.”
“Don’t. She was right.” I went to her, pulling her into my arms. “It makes you even more stunning.”
Close up, her eyes were captivating pools of rich brown with the tiniest flecks of gold around the iris. How had I gone for so long without looking into them? “Are you ready?” I asked.
Her arms went around my neck, holding on for dear life. “Do I have a choice?”
“I’m afraid not.”
She took a deep breath. “Then I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
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Wicked Wednesday Reads: The Beginning
Whee, it’s Wednesday! Never fear, for today I’m here with Angelica Dawson and her astounding new erotic paranormal romance The Beginning, now available from Amazon and other online sellers. Take it away, Angelica!
Sophia is on the run. A newly reborn vampire, she finds herself alone after an attack on her home. Running across Europe, she seeks a place to hide, and eventually, a place to fit in. She happens upon three adult sisters, orphaned and down on luck. If she can help them succeed, she might find her own success as well.
What would you do to find a family after yours was burned to ash?
How much pain could you stand to help a friend?
Where does a vampire really fit, anyway?
Story Excerpt
Arriving at Stephan’s tiny home, Sophia was relieved to find he, at least, was what she had taken him for, a young man starting off on his own. He released her arm to take her hand and pull her inside. She pretended to stumble and fall into him. He quickly put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her.
His hands didn’t move, but Luke’s did, sliding over her skirt and slowly hiking it up. His rough fingertips seemed to burn as they slid up her leg. He pressed into her from behind, pinning her between himself and Stephan.
Stephan broke the kiss just long enough to say. “You will stop us—”
“Don’t stop,” Sophia gasped, pulling Stephan’s face to her bosom. Luke worked her skirt up and his trousers down. She felt him hard between her buttocks and she rocked into him.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, “and so wet.”
She kissed the top of Stephan’s head and then his ear, nipping it with her sharp teeth to open a small gash that she sucked until it closed. Before it did, the men had manipulated her and her clothing to their advantage, the loose laces of her dress opening for her breasts in front. Stephan held one, his thumb brushing her nipple, while he suckled the other.
Luke wasted no time penetrating her and his thrusts made her breasts bob in Stephan’s hand and face. Her breasts were aflame at the light brushing of his fingertips and lips and she started to squeeze Luke inside her.
Stephan moved his hands lower, taking up her dress where it was bunched and pulling it off entirely. Luke reluctantly let go long enough to remove the garment. Sophia dropped to her feet and then knees, taking Luke in her hand and grabbing for Stephan as soon as he freed himself. She sucked one cock while stroking the other, switching often and reveling in the sounds each man made.
Her own need grew as each man approached his own climax. Luke pulled her up, wrapped her legs around his waist and thrust into her roughly. Her head fell back in ecstasy as he filled her. Stephan’s arm wrapped around under her arms and over her breasts. Her head came to rest on his shoulder as Luke drove his cock in and out of her at a fever pitch. He wouldn’t last long, despite how desperately she wanted him to continue all night.
Stephan kissed and licked along her neck and she closed her eyes, turning her head to put her nose into his hair, under his ear. His cock left a hot sticky trail along her lower back and she knew in a few moments it would be his turn to fill her.
Where to Buy
Amazon Smart URL | iBooks | Nook | Kobo | Goodreads | Books2Read
About the Author
Angelica Dawson, USA Today best selling Naughty Nights Press author, has been writing for several years and having sex a lot longer than that. Angelica is a wife, mother and environmental consultant. Her love of plants and the outdoors is not diminished by the bloodsucking hoards — mosquitoes and black flies, not vampires.
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To My Muse 99¢ release SALE
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Amazon CA
Amazon AU
Smashwords
Ever do something really, really dumb?
When too much tequila and an enabling BFF put Lily Nayar’s romance novel Feast of Lovers into the hands of its inspiration, sexy British actor Tom Morrison, Lily is horrified. Now she’s determined to get her book back, even if that means breaking into Tom’s hotel room to do it.
With the help of a strategic lie and an Oscar-winning knight, Lily’s screwball plan catapults her into the middle of her very own Cinderella story, Hollywood style. But will a vengeful actress ruin Lily’s shot at a real life HEA with Tom?
I still get nervous
T
o My Muse is my ninth full-length novel, not counting the various novellas, novelettes, and short stories I’ve written since becoming a professional writer in 1995, and the fifth I’ve self-published. I should be used to the process by now, but I still get anxious the night before release day. Did I cross all my Ts and dot all my Is? Are there errors in the finished version (there are. There always are. I have come to accept this as part of being human)? Did I send out ARCs to all the reviewers? Am I doing enough promo? Am I doing too much promo?
Will people like it?
That’s the big thing, of course. Will people see my amusing ads and catchy blurb and think, “Yeah, I’ll splash out on this, what the heck.” And if they do that, will they like it or think, “Aw, man. I should’ve gotten a venti Frappucino instead.”
I’m hoping people like it. I’ve gotten a response already from one reviewer (which shocked the heck out of me because I didn’t think she’d be able to get to it until June) and she’s giving it five stars. The betas all liked it, the editor liked it, the sensitivity reader liked it (Lily’s half-Indian. You bet your ass this white lady used a sensitivity reader, AND I fixed the things she told me to fix). But I still worry. That’s normal. And I know there will be people who don’t like it, and that’s also normal. I can’t entertain all of the people all of the time. Mainly, I hope I won’t offend anyone with my story of Lily and her family. Indian culture and diaspora is magnificently detailed and exhaustively extensive, and I’ve very much enjoyed my research into it in order to create the Nayar family in as accurate and respectful a manner as possible. I also know, however, that there will be things I missed, and for that I apologize and ask your indulgence.
Contemporary romantic comedy is a new subgenre for me, but hopefully Muse won’t be my one and only entry in it. I have other books planned, in between new entries in my existing series. I promise you, I will make the time to get them written.
And now, back to work on Shifter Woods: Snarl.
Sick? I don’t have time to be sick. I have a book to edit.
Bah. Virus, be gone. I have too much work to do.
So, To My Muse is off to the betas and editor, I have the media packet put together, it’s currently churning through Amazon for pre-order, and I’ll brave the Smashwords Meat Grinder tomorrow to get the doc ready for that so that I can collect all the non-Amazon buy links, put them in my media packet, and send that off to bloggers, reviewers, and other folks who might talk up my work.
This was … a scarily easy edit. I’m not sure if that’s good or not. As I explained to Ramón, editing is normally more like wringing each page until blood drips out of it and the words reluctantly fall in a pleasing order. For TMM, it was more like, “Oh, that’s funny … and that’s funny … hee!” There were definitely things that needed to be edited, but it wasn’t nearly as soul-wracking as it usually it. I don’t know if it’s because this is a standalone, a contemporary romance, or a romcom. Getting feedback from the betas and my editor will either reassure me that I didn’t do anything wrong, or explain gently but firmly that I was fooling myself about this story and there’s lots I need to fix. We’ll see.
But in the meantime, I think I’ve pretty much done everything I can apart from the Meat Grinder for promo prep. Part of me wants to go make jewelry. The other part wants to collapse in bed and watch RuPaul’s Drag Race. Decisions, decisions…
Some news on TO MY MUSE
It’s done! Yes, I finished it on Friday, and it’s currently simmering while I get pending jewelry projects done and generally play catch-up on things that fell by the wayside during my final push (like the housework, the laundry, paying bills, getting my car’s safety inspection done, making calls to various people to get things sorted with them, you know the drill). I have to say, I’m very happy with how the story turned out, and I’m really hoping that everyone likes my first stab at a contemporary romcom. I think it’s funny as hell, but I would — I wrote it. Also, it has a running Penguins of Madagascar joke in it, because I’m all about the pop culture.
Now, onto more important stuff — the release date is scheduled to be 5/15, and I’ll be putting together a Facebook launch party with giveaways and all kinds of fun and frivolity. I also need to set up advertising, put together ARCs and get those off to bloggers/reviewers, plan out the print version, and generally run around like a headless chicken for the next two weeks (hence my spending THIS weekend doing cleaning and laundry).
Although I did take a break this evening to watch Westworld. I think I may know where they’re heading with Glory and why it’s so important to Dolores and William/MiB (let me just ask you this — what would rich people who already have all the money and power in the world really, really want? And how could a place like Westworld deliver that to them? And how does Robert keep speaking through all those hosts, anyway? GREAT cameo by Giancarlo Esposito, by the way — I’m really hoping he turns out to be someone they bring back in later episodes/seasons).
But that’s the lovely thing about Westworld. There are layers within layers within layers, characters who are literally played by different actors, games with time, location, and consciousness, and it all spins like this beautifully intricate Victorian clockwork piece. It’s a freaking joy to watch, and SO much fun to tease out what I think are the narrative threads. Even if I’m wrong, hey, who cares — I got a book series out of it!
Want to watch Nicola lose it? Give her cable problems during Westworld.
*sucks in long, controlled breath through nose* There may have been some screaming in Casa Cameron this evening when we had problems getting the premiere of Westworld Season Two to play on the TV. I was able to watch the final 45 minutes by going upstairs and watching it on my iPad via the Spectrum app, but I’m going to have to wait for On Demand to catch the first fifteen minutes. And I will be calling Spectrum tomorrow and getting them to send a tech out because I am tired of not being able to watch HBO, BBC America, and other channels on the big screen because there’s something wonky about our splitter box/cable card.
In re: WW–no spoilers, but they’re clearly going to be playing with location as well as time this season, which will be hugely entertaining. One of the things I treasure about this show is that they always manage to surprise me, and as a veteran writer that takes some doing. And I may have squealed when they revealed yet another unexpected host. Looking forward to a functioning cable box and next Sunday!
Mid Week Tease: Shifter Woods: Snarl #MidWeekTease #MWTease
Hello, lovelies! This week I’m continuing on from my most recent snippet of Shifter Woods: Snarl. When we last saw Jack and Kate, he’d just informed her that any shifter at Cougar Ridge Ski Lodge would be able to smell the fact that she’d just enjoyed a solo morning orgasm. After that, things get—complicated. Yeah, let’s say complicated.
Many thanks to Angelica Dawson for hosting us, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
Jack winced as Kate jerked back in her chair, green eyes wide with shock. He hadn’t meant to be so blunt, but the heady scent of her satisfied desire hung in the air like a shimmering cloud of delicious, cock-hardening perfume. He wasn’t going to be able to stand up for a few minutes as it was, and the only thing stopping him from flipping over the table, grabbing her and taking her back to bed was the knowledge that Commander Chandler would undoubtedly boot him from the lodge for that. But damn, it would be worth it.
“You—you can smell that?” she stammered.
Christ, could he. “Yeah. And so can every other shifter in the lodge. Just wash up again, maybe get some fresh underwear.”
Biting her lip, she dropped the fork on her unfinished omelet and stood up, hurrying past him. A wave of guilt stung him and he grabbed her wrist. “Wait.”
She jerked free, not looking at him. “What?”
“I’m—I’m sorry. I just—” Don’t want you going out there smelling so goddamn good. It was bad enough watching the male cougars at the lodge stare after her like she was the hottest thing on the mountain. Which, of course, she was, but they weren’t supposed to look at her like that. His wolf howled in agreement. If she went out there smelling like sex in the bargain, one of them was bound to make a move, manager or not, and then he’d have to act. “I didn’t want you to be embarrassed,” he finished.
“Yeah, little late for that.” She crossed her arms defensively over her chest. All that did was plump up her breasts under the pretty sweater she was wearing, making his cock throb harder. “I’m not responsible for what happens in my dreams, okay?”
She still wouldn’t look at him, blooms of color tinting those sharp cheekbones and making her even more appetizing. A tantalizing thought occurred to him then—was I in her dream? Did her subconscious recognize him as her mate? It would only be fair, seeing as she was starring in all of his wet dreams this last week.
But there was a hot scent of rising anger under the humiliation, and pissing her off at this stage wasn’t smart. “I know, and I’m sorry for being so blunt. It’s like—telling you that you have a piece of spinach in your teeth.” He shrugged, wishing he was better with words. “You could be a little bit embarrassed in front of me, or really embarrassed in front of every shifter at the lodge. Including your dad.”
Her lips pursed at that. Finally, reluctantly, she nodded. “I see your point. In that case, thank you.”
If he hadn’t been able to tell from her scent, the terse tone would have told him she was still embarrassed. He searched for something reassuring to say when she added, “Does it smell … bad?”
There was no way she could ever smell bad to him, especially not at the moment. If he got any harder he’d rip through his damn jeans. “No,” he said roughly. “No, it smells … really good.”
“Even to you?”
Celadon eyes filled with another question, one that that caused his wolf to howl again, urging him to claim his female. It took every ounce of self-control to remain seated when his entire body ached with the need to touch her, pull her down on his lap and prove how much he wanted her. “Especially to me,” he breathed.
She swallowed hard at that. “I … I’d better go.” Ducking her head, she didn’t quite run out of the kitchen, but it was close.
Alone, Jack gazed at the remnants of his breakfast, then pushed the plate away. This couldn’t go on. He had to talk to Chandler. And then he had to figure out how to tell Kate the truth.
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Marvelous Monday Reads: Caelan’s Captive
Welcome to another edition of Marvelous Monday Reads, darlings! Today I’m featuring Faye Avalon and her new fantasy romance Caelan’s Captive. Take it away, Faye!
Escaping the king’s harem, Lahna finds herself at the mercy of a warrior prince who holds her captive and makes no secret of his desire to have her. Lahna hasn’t fled from one tyrant only to become the captive of another, and she certainly has no intention of warming the bed of the fearsome prince…even if he does make her body burn and her senses reel.
Caelan suspects his voluptuous captive may have been sent to spy on him and discover his plans to liberate his land from the tyrannical rule of the king. But her arrival provides him with the perfect opportunity to set those plans in motion. First, that means making her his, and in doing so he might just satisfy the craving for her that heats his blood and fires his loins.
But can Caelan really trust her? And can Lahna trust him to keep her safe when it matters most?
Story Excerpt
He had markings on his skin, the type that were forbidden by the king. What looked like intricate black ribbons circled his muscled upper left arm. He also had scars along his right arm, the kind made by weapons of battle.
He caught her staring at him and she looked away, sipping at the water again.
“You find something of interest?”
She swallowed before glancing back at him. “You are not what I expected.”
His expression darkened and a tension moved into his big body. “Indeed. And what did you expect?”
At the coldness in his eyes, Lahna reached for her inner strength and all the bravado she could muster. “You wear the marks of battle and your hair is long.”
His gaze held hers, searching for some hidden answer for which she didn’t know the question. Then he leaned closer. “Before anything else, I am a warrior. You would do well to remember that.”
She pushed her head back into the pillow as he leaned farther down. When her stomach pitched again, she wondered at the wisdom of eating too much bread. Except this feeling didn’t feel like over-indulgence.
Only when he straightened did she breathe once more.
“What is the name by which you are known?”
What kind of game was he playing? Of course he knew her name. “Lahna,” she sneered, lifting her chin.
He said nothing, but narrowed his blue gaze directly at her.
She wouldn’t be intimidated. “How long am I to remain here?”
“As long as you wish.”
“As I wish?”
Pointedly, he looked around him. “Do you see locks on the doors? Bars on the windows?”
No, she didn’t, come to think of it. At least, none that were visible. But was it a ploy? Was he trying to lull her into feeling secure and then he would pounce? She didn’t trust him. Couldn’t afford to trust him.
“There are more ways to imprison a woman than with locks and bars.”
“Why would I want to imprison you?”
Was he genuinely trying to provoke her? “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? I’m little more than your prisoner, your captive. I appreciate you letting me regain my strength before I face my fate, but I would prefer to have an indication of what to expect when I am back to full health. What is to be done with me?”
“Now why would you expect that I intend to do anything with you?”
Infuriating man. He was toying with her like an animal trapped in a snare.
“I am in your quarters, am I not? Why am I here if not to be punished in some way?”
“May I remind you that you sailed into my waters uninvited? Had I not plucked you out of the reef, you would now be food for the fish.”
Sailed into his waters? Uninvited?
Everything inside her grew warm. Had she truly made it out beyond the horizon to where she had heard people lived freely? Unencumbered by the king’s tyrannical rule?
Her heart began pounding with joyful relief at the thought she might be free. But if that were so, where was she? This man spoke the same language, ate the same foods.
Maybe it was a trick and the king had meant to test her, find out why she had tried to escape. Had he tasked her guard to ingratiate himself with her, to learn of her plans, her reasoning? To pretend that he didn’t know who she was?
Yet, if this man really didn’t know her identity, and had no idea from where she’d come, maybe she had sailed far from the king’s clutches, to another land.
Regardless, she had to play things very carefully. It didn’t matter where she was. The king’s reach was vast. This man could be in the king’s employ whoever he was, and wherever he lived. The islands that were now under Zomotian rule would never dare go against their new ruler, the king.
She had to think. Had to remain vigilant.
The man surveyed her closely, suspicion heavy in his hypnotic gaze. “When your health is recovered, I will arrange for you to be sent back home.”
Grasping for courage she didn’t feel, she angled her chin into the air. “S…sent back?” Everything inside her went to ice.
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About the Author
Faye Avalon enjoys writing sexy stories about strong men and the savvy women who rock their world. She has taken a roundabout journey toward her writing career, working as cabin crew, detouring into property development, public relations and education, before finally finding her passion: writing spicy romantic fiction. Faye lives with her super-ace husband and one beloved, ridiculously spoiled dog.
Nicola Cameron Writes 