"Wild for Him" by Katie Cody (Paranormal Romance)

Genre:  Paranormal Romance

Summary:  Zara Lockhart's dream vacation turned into a nightmare when she and her father were kidnapped by criminals after stumbling upon bandits in the jungles of Africa. She escapes her captors only to run into the deadly animals that lived among the jungle's dense vegetation. Her only hope of survival and the rescue of her father hinges on Lutalo Gund, a mysterious man who seems at one with the jungle. He and his tribe have promised to help her rescue her father, but she cannot help wondering who will save her from Lutalo's desire filled gaze.

Lutalo Gund is a gorilla shifter living in the jungle with his family and fellow shifters. In the wilds of Africa they live in peace except for the few diamond hunters who ransack their nesting grounds. It is during one of their scouting missions to check on the diamond hunter's camps that he finds a lone woman running for her life. He realizes instantly that she is his destined mate, but with the hunters still terrorizing the area and her father in danger he cannot celebrate quite yet. Now he must find a way to not only keep her safe, but convince her the jungle is where she belongs.

Excerpt:

Chapter 1

The thick rope chafed against her skin causing blood to drip down her arms and slicken her hands. She stifled her yelp of pain, fear and perspiration flowing down her body. Their guard was on a bathroom break, but he wouldn’t be gone for long.

“Don’t worry dad, I’m almost free,” she whispered. He sat across from her bound in a similar fashion. However, unlike her he was in far worse shape. Their captors beat him when he tried to protect her. She knew if they stayed much longer they would be killed. She continued working the small knife against her restraints, thankful she had kept it in her boot.

A snap and she was free. She took a moment to work her wrists and savored the feeling of being able to move them once again. Wiping them on her cargo pants to clean the blood off she quickly made her way over to her father.

“We’re getting out of here now,” she murmured to her father working on the rope binding his hands.

Suddenly rustling in the nearby leaves signaled that the guard was coming back. Her heart rate spiked and she tried to work faster, but the ropes were thick and the knife she had was barely bigger than a match. It was a decoration piece she had hoped to bring back to her sister, but it was all she had.

“Zara, you must go. There’s no time,” her father pleaded brokenly. His voice revealing the depth of pain he was experiencing.

Tears sprang to her eyes as the footsteps sounded closer, “I can’t dad…I can’t,” she kept working, but one look in her father’s eyes and she saw the hopelessness there.

She was about to tell him to quit thinking like that when someone ripped her back, “You bitch, what are you doing,” the rough voice of their guard shouted, hauling her away from her father and making her drop the knife in the process.

“No,” she screamed, but it was too late. She would never be able to save her father now. Thinking fast she kicked out at the man, pleased when it connected with his gut, causing him to double over and release her in the process.

Taking the chance, she ran, making her way into the dark jungle. The vines and leaves tearing at her clothes as she ran.

The thick jungle stretched out before her. Dark shadows creeped through every corner and for a moment she feared the unseen dangers lurking there. Doubt crept in and she wondered how she would even survive the night with the darkness already creeping in.

Her thoughts were interrupted by shots being fired from somewhere behind her, spurring her on. She shook her head knowing she had no choice, tearing through the brush she prayed any nearby predators would be scared off by the gunfire.

She had just run through a bunch of leaves and vines when she felt the ground disappear from underneath her. Looking down she saw the drop and sucked in a breath before tumbling head over heels down the hill.

Her body burned where the various branches tore open her clothes adding to her wounds.

When she finally came to a stop she slowly pushed at the ground gasping at the pain. With great effort, she made it to her feet only to freeze instantly.

She stood in a clearing surrounded by giant trees and foliage that nearly blacked out the sun. Staring back at her all around the clearing was the angry glare of gorillas. They hooted and stamped, growing louder by the minute.

Her whole body grew cold. She knew now this would be her end. There was no way she could outrun them. Nowhere to hide.

Stepping out of the throng was the biggest gorilla yet. He stood tall and defiant, eyes locking with hers.

She felt something surge in her at that moment. Something like excitement, but she quickly lowered her eyes. She remembered that you should never look a wild animal in the eyes as it was seen as a challenge.

Lowering her eyes seemed to have the opposite effect however, as the gorilla seemed to become enraged.

Bellowing so loudly it sent a chill down her spine the gorilla stalked toward her.

When he was inches from her he bent his head sniffing at her hair. She did her best to remain still, but a small whimper escaped.

He snorted and when she peeked up she noticed he no longer glared, but instead looked…concerned. She shook her head at the thought knowing how ridiculous it was.

Her heart jumped to her throat when she felt the rough hand of the gorilla lightly brushing over one of the more serious cuts on her shoulder. She flinched, “Please don’t.”

Almost as if the gorilla understood her, he slowly retracted his hand. Hooting softly, he bent down to gaze into her eyes.

Despite herself, she looked up and gasped. She knew she must be going crazy because when she gazed back at the gorilla his eyes seemed almost human. Without realizing it she moved closer and found herself reaching for the fearsome creature.

She was snapped out of her daze when a bullet whizzed just inches from her head. She fell to the ground in surprise and fear.

Looking up she saw the gorilla had now positioned himself in front of her. With a fearsome growl, he stood on hind legs and beat his chest bellowing in anger.

She saw the guard from before standing at the edge of the clearing gun raised. Before he could get another shot the gorilla charged. The ground shuttered as all around them the gorillas screeched and howled.

Within moments the gorilla had reached the guard whose eyes had widened in pure fear. A scream bubbled in her throat as she saw him being thrown into a nearby tree, “Oh god,” she whispered frightened beyond belief at the gorilla’s fury.

Another shot rang out from somewhere near the first guard and for a second she thought they must have hit the gorilla. She didn’t have long to question her sudden distress at the gorilla’s possible demise when she felt the searing pain bloom in her right shoulder.

Looking down at her blood-stained shirt she felt numb. The world seemed to spin and the edges of her vision began to turn black. The last thing she saw before the world slipped away was the enraged face of a gorilla charging toward her.

Chapter 2

“Lutalo,” his friend Darth growled from behind him, “We searched the area, there is a camp not far from here.”

Lutalo grunted, “We move out at once, if they have camped here more will follow soon after.” He didn’t know what these humans were doing so far out into the jungle, but it was never good having them so close.

“Have you sent for Rashidi? The wound is bad and will need attention right away,” he ordered looking back to the woman in his arms with concern. His blood boiled at the memory of her fall when she was hit. The blood staining her clothes causing a red haze to cloud his vision. The screams of pain from the foolish human who dared threaten her wasn’t enough to quench his thirst for blood.

“Of course, Lutalo,” Darth assured him, “He will be with you as soon as we reach the nesting grounds,” he looked to the woman a little dubiously.

He had to suppress the urge to lash out at his friend. He was already on edge from the attack and having males so close to his female had him dangerously close to losing it.

That was the one thing he knew for certain above all else, this female was his. He knew it the moment he saw her tumble into his territory. The sight of her dark hair and milky white skin lit a fire in him he was sure would never be extinguished, but her scent was what did him in. The most intoxicating aroma he had ever come across belonged to the small woman he now held. It told him all he needed to know about her, whoever she was, wherever she came from, she was his mate.

He lifted her in his arms, careful not to jostle her too much. The rest of his group were still in gorilla form, but he had shifted back to make carrying her much easier. She barely came up to his chest even in his human form. Her small body fit easily into his arms and in her unconscious state she snuggled closer to him. He savored the feel of her body against his as he made his way to their nesting grounds.

When they reached they reached the pack he made his way to Rashidi, “She needs medical attention now,” he growled.

Rashidi stood unwavering in the face of his anger. He was the only one who didn’t cower before him having taken care of him since he was an infant, “What have you brought home this time,” Rashidi asked looking down into his mate’s face.

Rashidi carefully examined the various wounds marking the woman, “Most are only minor cuts, but her shoulder will need stitches. Bring her to the hut and I will get to work,” he said before walking on ahead. He was one of the few still in human form as he didn’t shift into his gorilla as often as the rest of the troop since he was the healer and found it much easier to work with human hands.

Lutalo watched the healer work and thought back to the moment he saw her. She was running from something that was for certain. She wore cargo pants and a white t-shirt that looked like it had seen better days, but it was a tourist outfit for sure. She also didn’t seem to know the jungle very well. Going in with no protection was never a good idea, but it no doubt had something to do with the humans who had shot at her. He would have to question her once she was awake to find out why they were chasing her and maybe figure out why they were so close to his territory in the first place.

“There, all done. She should heal fine, but you’ll need to make sure to change the bandages every so often to avoid any infection,” he wiped the sweat off his brow, “So you finally found your mate,” he asked blue eyes twinkling, “Never thought I’d see the day.”

Staring down into the angelic features of the woman before him he couldn’t keep the grin off his face, “Yes, it seems so.”

“You’ll probably want to stick to your human form for a while. The girl looks like she’s been through a lot and frightening her as a gorilla will do more harm than good,” Rashidi said, running a hand through his greying hair.

He grunted, “I agree. I think I’ll keep her away from the troop for a while as well. Just until I mark her.”

Rashidi gave him a knowing look, “Mating fever riding you hard?”

He nodded without saying a word. The only reason he could be so calm with Rashidi working on his mate was because he was already mated. The rest of the troop consisted of mainly unmated males. Unlike normal gorillas they didn’t have quite as many females and so their troops were smaller and largely male. It was why he was so surprised to find a mate. He was truly blessed and until he could mark her and bind her to him properly he intended to keep his distance from the rest of the troop.

“I understand, but before you go I have one last thing,” Looking through his stack of medicine he pulled out a small tube of ointment before handing it to Lutalo, “This will help protect her skin from the sun, she seems to be getting a little pink and with her complexion she will need it.”

With a nod in thanks to Rashidi, he gathered the woman in his arms and made his way back to his nest. Where he planned to care for and woo his mate.

Once inside his nest which was a small hut built into one of the highest parts of the trees he carefully laid her out onto a bed of leaves before grabbing the ointment for her skin. He added a good amount to his hands before gently applying it to her skin starting at her neck. He gently massaged the cream onto her, making his way down her chest. He made sure to avoid the cuts and scrapes she had, but also made sure to get any visible skin. Once he finished her arms he reached down to her ankles reveling in the warm softness under his fingers.

She started to stir and let out a small moan at his actions. The sound sent a shiver of desire through him, but he kept going until he reached the tops of her thighs. Once there he could feel the heat of her and groaned.

He shook his head not wanting to take advantage, but the sight of her flushed skin and parted lips was almost too much too bear. Before he could think too much he found himself inches from her lips, “Just a taste,” he whispered.

Pressing his lips to hers in a gentle caress his mouth watered at the sweetness he tasted. He suckled first the bottom and then the top before deciding to stop, but before he could she began to respond.

Slow at first, but then stronger she pressed her silken lips to his molding to him so sweetly he could barely hold himself in check. Hands to either side of her head he coaxed her lips to part and flicked his tongue against hers.

She moaned long and low before her eyes fluttered to meet his. He found himself staring into forest green depths that suddenly filled with fear.

Before he could react, she was pulling away and rushing to the other side of the hut. She stood trembling and vulnerable against the wall, “Who…who are you,” she stuttered.

He closed his eyes willing his desire to cool before meeting hers once more, “I am Lutalo Gund, your mate.”

Chapter 3

“What do you mean…I’m your mate? Look buddy, I don’t even know you and I’m not that kind of girl,” her voice trembled.

Zara stood, back against a wall that looked a lot like bamboo shoots. Before her stood the most magnificent man she had ever seen. He stood at least six feet, his head nearly scraping the wall of the simple hut they now stood in. His eyes were a light brown that reminded her of her favorite chocolate and his hair hung down to his shoulder in black waves, but she could swear it looked to have a faint silver streak right down the middle.

His jaw was hard and covered in a dark stubble that hid the ends of a few scars that ran down his cheeks. He had broad shoulders with bronzed skin she wanted to run her hands down, if only to see if he was as solidly built as he looked.

She tried to shake the insanely lustful thoughts from her head, but with him so close it was impossible. She didn’t know the first thing about this man. He could be a killer or one of the men who had taken her hostage and here she stood, wanting nothing more than to rip the thin t-shirt from his shoulders. It was not proper in the least and even more frightening was the tingling in her lips she could still feel after waking up to his kiss. The memory stopped her cold.

“I am very glad you are not that type of girl,” he almost purred moving slowly closer, “I would like to know you much better, though. What is your name lovely one?”

“Zara, my name is Zara Lockhart,” she breathed.

“Zara,” his voice seemed to caress her name, “It is very nice to meet you Zara.”

Her throat suddenly felt dry and she tried to look anywhere, but his eyes. It only made things that much worse when her eyes landed on his plump lips.

Reaching a hand up she touched her lips, “You…You kissed me,” she breathed.

His chocolate brown eyes seemed to melt into amber gold as he answered, “Yes…and you kissed me back,” his slow rumble sent shivers of excitement through her.

“No…no I thought I was dreaming. I didn’t…I wouldn’t,” she stammered, backing away further.

Undeterred he stalked closer, “Yes, you did….and you loved it,” his voice was firm, confident.

The sight of him closing in on her had her knees trembling and something low in her belly clenching. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. No man had ever interested her before, let alone made her feel so strange. It frightened her and yet she didn’t know how to fight it.

Raising her arms in front of her face she tried to ward him off, “Please, stay away.”

Surprisingly, he stopped. She lowered her arm in confusion, but yelped when it pulled at her hurt shoulder.

He was there in an instant, easing her back down onto the pad of leaves, “Take it easy, you are still injured,” he calmly explained.

Looking to her shoulder she saw the bandage covering the spot she was hit, “Did…did you do this,” she asked hesitantly, looking up at him.

He shook his head, “No, our healer, Rashidi, did,” he explained as he checked her bandage in case she tore something.

“Our? There are others,” she asked suddenly alert. Seeing the way, he was so concerned for her injury she doubted he was part of the same group who had kidnapped her and her father, but that didn’t mean that he was innocent.

He searched her face curiously, “Yes, we have a small…tribe out here in the jungle. We found you not far from here. You were injured and so we took you here,” he paused, “You looked like you were shot, but it passed through cleanly. May I ask why you were out there all alone in the jungle? Are you in trouble,” the last part came out a bit rough and confused her.

He seemed to genuinely care, but how did she know it wasn’t some trick. Of course, if he was telling the truth they might be able to help her. She bit her lip in indecision.

He furrowed his brow, “You have my word, I do not intend to hurt you. I only wish to help,” he said it so solemnly she couldn’t help, but believe him.

So far, he had brought her to his home and had done his best to take care of her injuries. Aside from the disturbing kiss, he had made no move to harm or assault her in any way. Thinking it over she decided to tell him the truth. If he wanted to harm her he would have done it by now and if she revealed her plight she might be able to gain his help in saving her father as well.

She sighed, “I was with my father on safari…to see the gorillas,” she started, watching to see his reaction, “When we came upon some men on the trail. Our guide seemed very agitated and went out to confront them,” she paused biting her lip.

He set his hand down on her thigh in a comforting manner, “It’s alright. Take your time,” he soothed.

The low timbre of his voice was like a balm to her nerves. Swallowing she continued, “He started yelling at them and one of the men pulled out a gun and…and shot him,” she covered her face in her hands, “I never anything so horrible in my life,” she choked.

He could take it no longer, seeing her in such pain caused his heart to burn in agony. Moving closer he gathered her into his lap and she went willingly. He gently stroked her back as she sobbed into his chest.

She looked up at him after a while, eyes full of tears, “I didn’t know what to do. They surrounded us immediately and tied us up,” she cried, “When they brought us to their camp the man who shot the guide made some…inappropriate advances. My father tried to stop him and for his trouble they…they beat him,” her tears soaked through his shirt.

The rage building in his Lutalo’s gut was unlike anything he had ever felt before. He couldn’t bear to see her like this and he fully intended to find the men she spoke of and relish their screams of agony as he rid the jungle of their presence.

The feel of her burrowing further into him, seeking shelter, melted his insides. This woman who he barely knew was making him feel things he never dreamed. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but he wasn’t about to give her up either.

“Shh, it’s alright liefie,” he murmured running his hand down her arms, “You escaped and I will not let you come to harm. I promise you, you are safe here.”

Her eyes shone as she gazed up at him and in that moment, Lutalo knew he would do anything to see her look at him that way forever.

Too quickly it was gone replaced by a sudden frown on her upturned face, “Wait, I really appreciate all you’ve done, but you must help me save my father. He is still there and I can’t leave him,” she begged clutching at his arms as if he were her only lifeline.

His heart sank, he knew the men she spoke of would likely have already killed her father. He had seen it happen too many times before, but seeing her look at him as if he was her hero made him curse that fact. Despite knowing how dangerous it would be he couldn’t tell her no.

He caressed the side of her cheek with the back of his hand, “Liefie, when you look at me like that it makes me want to give you the world.”

With a sigh he stood, “I will do my best to find your father, but that is all I promise.”

Her eyes lit up and he knew he’d done the right thing, “Oh, thank you, thank you thank you,” she squealed wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace.

Realizing what she had done she quickly moved away and Lutalo immediately regretted the loss, “You must stay here while I go talk to the others to see about looking for your father. I will be back soon,” he gave her one last look before making his way out of the hut.

He shook his head as he climbed back down the tree he resided in. If he wasn’t careful he knew she would be the death of him, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.

Buy this story on Amazon.

"Beckoning Spirit" by Stacey Coverstone (Paranormal Romance)

Genre:  Paranormal Romance

Summary:  Following a year of one disappointing turn after another, Devin Fuller has been dreaming for weeks of a mysterious woman in white beckoning to her from atop the island lighthouse. On the anniversary of her grandma's death, Devin feels a supernatural push to visit Grandma’s grave on Monhegan Island. However, the last ferry has been cancelled due to an approaching storm. In steps local Maine fisherman, Kipp Sullivan, who offers to ferry her across the bay. Although they’ve never met, both feel an immediate connection the moment they look into each other’s eyes, as if they’ve always known each other. When their hands touch, an electrical charge jumps between them, and time and space blend.

Once they cross the storm-tossed sea and reach the island, Devin has an eerie encounter with ghosts, and she and Kipp become acutely aware of the strange coincidences piling up around them. The lighthouse, an old oil painting, and spirits from beyond the grave appear to be pieces of a puzzle meant to bring the couple together. But do they believe in reincarnation? And if so, can the mistakes of the past lead to happily ever after in the present?

Excerpt:

Devin lifted her head as a sudden cold gale carried an eerie whistle upon the wind. As though she were a puppet on a string, her neck rotated toward the abandoned lighthouse. The light was on in the tower.

How could the light be on? She knew the light hadn’t worked in years.

Stumbling to her feet, she dashed between the maze of headstones and out the cemetery gate. In the manner of a typical island storm, the wind and rain blew into a frenzy within moments. She jerked off her sandals and ran barefoot to the base of the lighthouse. Shaking from sudden exposure, she stared up at the small oval window fifty feet above. A jagged bolt of lightning sliced through the darkened sky, and in one sharp instant, Devin saw her. The woman stood at the window, her shadowy face staring down. Rain slashed at the glass, and the small window rattled wildly in its ancient casing, caught in the fury of the burgeoning storm. With a blink of her eye, the vision was gone.

Her fist flew to her mouth. Had she really seen someone? Or was her imagination playing tricks? Thunder boomed and another jagged flash lit up the sky, illuminating the window again. The figure was still there! The woman’s long auburn hair lay curled around her shoulders, and the wide lace collar of her white dress accentuated the slender arch of her neck.

Devin stood trancelike as the ghostly shape of a man magically appeared at the woman’s side. He placed a spectral arm around her waist. His hair was dark and he wore an odd-looking shirt with a ruffle down the front. His face, like hers, was cast in long shadows. An icy thread wound its way up Devin’s spine when he tenderly took the woman’s chin between his fingers and brushed his lips against hers.

Another clap of thunder wrenched Devin from her trance. She jumped and blinked, and the two smoky shapes dissipated into thin air.
“No! Come back!” she shouted.

She pounded her fist upon the small lighthouse door. It was padlocked. “Open up!” she called desperately into the wind. She pounded again, and the lock magically broke apart and the chain thudded to the ground. With her mouth open in shock, she flung the door open and planted one foot on the bottom step of the old wooden stairs. Her gaze lifted at the exact moment the two phantoms glided down the staircase, hand in hand.

Buy this story on Amazon and be sure to check out the author's website.

"Transforming Love" by Debra Smith (Paranormal Romance)

Genre:  Paranormal Erotic Romance

Summary:  Jenny never expected her thirst for freedom to lead to her capture. Family secrets prevent her from running from the only man tempting enough to make her submit to her body's desires.

Gryph is dark, sexy, and determined to win Jenny in the Slag, a contest revered by his kind. As the leader of his Clan he's used to getting his way, until her. Can he give Jenny her freedom while winning her heart?

Excerpt:

Gryph pointed at Jenny, “You come with me before you start a riot.” He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her to the door in the back of the bar. He opened it roughly and the hinges squeaked in protest.

He motioned to the sturdy black leather couch. “Sit.”

“I would prefer to stand, if you don’t mind.” She stuck out her chin, tired of pushy males.

“Sit. Down.”

Okay, so he minded. Jenny decided not to anger the only chance of help she had. Jeez, she felt like she was in the principal's office after her senior prank. It wasn't her fault the chickens pooped all over his brand new leather interior. He shouldn't have left the top down on his Mustang. She figured the chickens would all sort of…hop out. Gryph growled, low and menacing. She blinked, drawn back to the present.

“Fine, I would love to sit.” She took a deep breath.

“How did you get here? And don’t say you walked.” He leaned against the large wooden desk and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well I did walk, but before that I drove.” She shrugged, still distracted by her hunger.

Gryph clenched his jaw. “Let’s start with something easy. What’s your name and where are you from?”

“I’m Jenny, well Jenifer, but I like Jenny better. I’m from Colorado.”

“What’s your clan name?”

Jenny scrunched her eyebrows. This guy was crazier than a roped mustang. “Clan?”

“Yeah, your clan. What do you think I would want to know, your shoe size? You walk into my bar, looking like you do. Are you really that stupid? Most of the males here don’t have mates, and honey, you're ripe for the picking.”


Yep, he was totally crazy. She needed to get the hell out of there and fast.

“Look, I’m leaving.” Jenny stood, and before she could open the door, he had her pinned to the wall. Her heart raced as she struggled against his crushing grip. His scent hit her nose, sending heat to pool in her belly. Her head spun trying to decide what it was, undeniably something dark and dangerous. His lips grazed her ear, and his breath fanned along her flushed skin.

“You expect me to believe you really have no idea what I’m talking about? That a female in your state just happened to walk through my door? Your leader is either stupid or playing with fire. I can't believe he thought I would fall for a scrawny thing like you.” Gryph bristled.

“Listen, I have no idea what you are talking about. I have no clue what town or even what state I’m in right now. I just want to go home.” Tears began pooling in her eyes. So much for being independent, once again she’d bitten off more than she could chew.

“Sit down.” Gryph shoved her in the direction of the couch.

She eyed the door, ready to run back to her car. His lips tilted in a knowing smile, saying just try it. Fear made her mind hazy, like everything played in slow motion. She could still feel the heat left by his touch. God. She was crazy just for thinking of her jailer in a sexual way. She could use a drink, or the next best thing, chocolate. Jenny looked through her purse for the rest of her candy bar. She needed some comfort, and it was all she had. She watched Tall, Dark, and Scary step over to the front of a large wooden desk and braced himself on his hands. He shook his head, deep in thought. She took a moment to look at his features: his body was all powerful muscle, the tight black t-shirt did nothing to hide the flexing muscles of his back and his ass was incredible. He looked like walking, talking sin.

“What’s your last name?”

She narrowed her eyes, “Why?”

“Do you want to go home or not?”

“Fine, Koning. My last name is Koning.”

“You have to be fucking kidding me.” He ran his hand through his hair.

“I assure you, it’s true. I can get my driver's license if you would like.” Jenny grabbed her wallet and handed to him. Gryph looked at her ID and closed his eyes.

"Shit."

She was the one being held against her will, and he was upset about her name. It certainly wasn’t her problem if he believed her or not. She genuinely didn’t see why it mattered. She was hungry, tired, and with a lunatic. She bit down on her candy bar and let the flavors give her brief moment of peace. God if she ever saw that used cars salesman, she was going to have her dad take him for a shovel ride. You know the real fun kind where only the shovel comes back. She opened her eyes, and he was staring at her with a familiar heat in his eyes. Her body responded with a heat of its own, and she squirmed in her seat.

“Can I have a taste?”

She almost said no, but she actually did need his help. If giving him the rest of her chocolate bar would influence his decision, it was a sacrifice she was willing to make. She nodded and held out her candy.

She shook it impatiently, almost regretting her choice to share. It was Lindt Milk Chocolate, for Pete's sake, as close to heaven on earth as you could get. His lips curved into a seductive half smile. Before she knew what was happening, he grabbed her outstretched hand and pulled her off the couch and up against his body. He had her trapped, caged by his thick arms, and drugged by his intoxicating scent. He was warm and smelled like crushed pine needles and mountain air.

“W-what are you doing?”

“I’m going to taste you.”

Buy this story on Amazon.  Check out the author's site.

"Tragedy of the Virgin Bride" by Xavier Edwards (Paranormal Romance)

Genre:  Paranormal Romance, Historical

Summary:  After centuries in the extended family, the old manor — once a castle — looks like it is to finally pass from the family line. For Josephine, this is just the latest tragedy she has had to face and, from her point of view, there is nothing but heartbreak in her future.

All it not as it seems — leaving Josephine struggling with the massive upheaval to her normal routine. Amongst this, she continues to hope for final redemption with her husband.

Excerpt:

Of all the tragedies in the family, there was one that stood out above all others.

The family was just at the peak of their power and influence. A marriage had taken place between the eldest daughter of the lord of the castle and a young man from a respectable family who had only recently been knighted. The entire village had turned out to celebrate the wedding, with many being invited back into the great keep for the wedding feast that would go long into the night, before the bride and groom would retire to consummate the marriage.

Up to the midpoint of the feast the day had been perfect, and it looked like the happy couple would enter married life on the best possible terms. It all changed when the great keep door was violently thrown open and a breathless horseman in bloodied and damaged armour crashed to the floor in front of the top table. What happy chaos had marked the feasting collapsed into complete silence as the gathered host waited to hear what momentous news had nearly cost this man his life. If it wasn’t important enough, he was sure to see the inside of the dungeon for having disrupted the wedding feast.

After excusing himself to the lord, he turned to the newlywed couple and addressed the knight. A revolt had arisen, led by a traitorous duke who, with the support of some complicit barons, had raised an army and was preparing to take on the King. The urgent call had gone out for all men under arms to ride for the border city to prepare for a decisive battle. Immediately. The lord of the castle tried to argue for a night’s grace to allow his son-in-law a night with his bride. It was the King’s order, so, as the knight prepared for departure, he and his bride said a tearful goodbye at the top of the grand staircase. He promised her he would return for her, turned and left for his duty.

The battle never happened. The rebels moved around the site selected for battle and destroyed the loyalists’ supply caravan. From that point on there were running skirmishes as the loyal forces tried to regroup. Several smaller castles were besieged, this one among them.

Days turned into weeks, then into months, and the siege continued. News managed to filter in that the rebels had faced several significant defeats elsewhere and that the young knight was just now leading men to come and break the siege. It couldn’t happen quick enough, as the defenders were running low on supplies and it looked like the curtain wall wouldn’t last much longer against the bombardment from the besiegers.

Preparations were made for the lady to make her escape in the night and she re-attired herself in her wedding dress so that she would be properly dressed when she met her husband again. It was now that the wall fell and attackers streamed into the castle grounds. Unknown to the defenders, a small squad had already entered the keep via the postern gate and the cellars, and were working through the keep, looking for a quick way to end the battle.

The first sign of their presence in the lady’s bedchamber was the several inches of steel blade that now protruded from the lady’s abdomen. The sword was withdrawn, replaced by a spreading stain. She ran screaming through the upper galleries, searching for a defender, making her way towards the keep entrance, reaching the landing of the grand staircase before finally falling, drained of life, watching in pain as men fought to the death on the floor below her.

While she could still draw breath, her husband appeared in the doorway of the keep and fought his way inside. Once he saw what had happened, he moved all out of his way to reach her. Crossbow bolt after bolt found him as he reached the stairs and made his ascent. He was finally felled by several bolts agonisingly short of his bride. Both were mortally wounded, stretching out their hands for a final touch, tears of love in their eyes. She was in her virginal wedding dress, awaiting him making it through the lines.

Stained red as her life ebbed from her, the dress would become her shroud as the last breath drained from her. Her husband struggled to at least touch his bride but his life gave out and the couple died, so close to each other with the tragedy of not gaining that last touch. All around them the battle raged. The main bloodline of the family died with them.

Buy this story on Amazon.  Also check out this author's Goodreads page and website.

"Night Sighs" by Emma Meade (Paranormal Romance)

Genre:  Paranormal Romance

Summary:  It’s good to be alive, when you’re dead!

Meet Alex & Tristan, modern star-crossed lovers of the supernatural variety. Alex is running-on-empty, one year on from the death of her fiancé, and the only thing that keeps her going is her romance with the young vampire Tristan. Tristan, meanwhile has a serious obsession with Bruce Springsteen, and is battling a ‘can’t-live-without-you’ sort of love for Alex. He’s trying to persuade her to come over to the dark side, but so far she’s resisting his efforts.

So come and sing along to Tristan’s band, The Dead Beats, the hottest group in London right now, and walk with Alex as she teeters between this life and the next. Because when you’re around Tristan, you’ll see, how much fun it is to be alive when you’re dead….

Night Sighs is a sensual, adult paranormal romance, following the relationship & adventures of Alex and Tristan through five short stories: The Dead Beats, The Ancients, Until My Body is Dust, Bourbon & Jazz and West of Forever.

Excerpt:

Dawn rose, blazing hot. Standing by the attic window her skin looked pink and luminous. Heat and light were promised on her lips as the last shadows fell, leaving her naked and in full control. The London street outside was still quiet, its squalid alleyways no longer hidden under night’s friendly mask. Daylight was not everyone’s friend.

**************

“She left me that morning,” Tristan spoke to his avid audience. “Crept out into the light, knowing I couldn’t follow. Saving herself and me is how she put it. Because the night was too dark for her…”

A roar rose up from the 50,000 strong crowd in the rural landscape miles outside London. Tristan stepped back from the microphone and lowered his head. His long black mane had been cut into jagged spikes. Silver crosses hung from his ears and on a chain around his neck, gleaming brightly against his black t-shirt and dark ripped jeans. A glance behind at his band told him they were good to go.

The moon illuminated the five vampires on the roofless stage, spotlighting Tristan as the opening bars on the piano sounded. His fans screamed again. Some were crying, others fainting, many more were as high as the grey clouds overhead.

Because the Night was a favourite cover the band liked to perform. Another haunting note on the piano followed and then the first strum of Tristan’s guitar. His thumb scraping well used strings was met with the wild screams of teenage girls. He satisfied them with a few more twangs.

And then. Silence. The band stopped. The crowd was unsure, excited and dizzy with anticipation.

Tristan lifted his head and stared straight ahead. The cameras focused on him for a close up and his face appeared on the dozens of temporarily erected screens throughout the park. He blinked, deliberately, emphasising his sad, wicked eyes all the more. Several young women dropped to the grassy ground. And then he sang.

The screams were deafening yet Tristan’s gruff, melodic voice rose over their noise as he spoke of the night belonging to lovers. His mouth touched the mic as he sang, loud, strong and clear. Those closest to the stage broke out in goosebumps. The sweetness of the piano seeped into their pores and they were more aware and more alive than ever. Tristan knew what they were feeling; he shared it with them every night on tour. Haunted. He, the band and the fans were held together amidst something beautiful but fleeting, an intermingling of love with the divine. The band had been both Tristan’s salvation and damnation. For every night through the music he felt so much, too much for one being to stay sane. The loyal crowd shared his burden.

The audience sang along with him, their shouts mixing with the sultry tones that slid so seductively off his tongue and into the hearts of every woman listening to him, and some men too.

His music embodied him entirely; it was moody, sorrowful, artistic, compelling and ultimately self-destructive. And this song captured the beauty of his pain perfectly.

Tristan strolled across the stage, one bare foot stamping down hard in front of the other, feeling the wood beneath his feet and the splinters drawing blood. He moved gracefully but there was a predatory sway that always ensured the enthrallment of his spectators. He knelt on one leg and sang to a group of young girls in the first row. All four friends were weeping, screaming and laughing, and begging him to take them up on the makeshift stage.

He winked at them and returned to centre stage, grinning at his bandmates. The red and yellow lights beat hotly against his forehead and his pale visage became ivory and near transparent. Like a ghost. He played his guitar heavily in time with the drum beats and almost drowned out the soft romance of the piano.

The elation of the audience was building as the notes rose higher, rushing towards a crescendo that was not unlike sex. His voice, always husky deepened to an overt show of masculinity.

No one his age should possess a voice like that, Tristan recalled one New York music journalist writing. He smiled in amusement.

His voice portraying carnal hunger drifted to the furthest corners of the gathering.

She was at the rear of the crowd, standing close to a fifteen foot screen mounted next to a great oak. It wasn’t his true face she was looking at now but that was enough to swell her heart and tug the memories loose. Tristan was separated from her by thousands of crazed fans. Distance didn’t seem to matter. Alex was as enthralled and on fire as the girls she could see screaming in front of her. They all wanted him and knew nothing. Those big brown eyes filled the screen until some of his hair came free of its gelled spikes and fell across his eyelashes. Tristan blew it out of his vision and carried on singing.

Two years had passed since they had last set eyes on one another but it may as well have been two minutes. Nothing had changed, not his luminous vitality or her longing to be with him. She thought that he may still love her, definitely thought of her but also possibly despised her now. Alex shivered as she listened to him. A rock star, she thought with faint amusement.

Tristan had spent years hiding from the human world and now he was one of its most famous players. The Dead Beats finished their opening number to a storm of yelling, whistling and clapping.

Alex didn’t move. What was she doing here? Why this concert and why now? Time had moved painfully slowly since she had left Tristan but some old semblance of herself had returned and the days and the nights held beauty again, and loneliness.

Without conscious thought, her legs moved of their own accord and Alex found herself walking forward through the throngs. Eyes fixed on the dot that was the stage, she was wholly unaware of the nasty comments and the irritated looks on the faces of the girls she swept past. Her progress was gradual but effective. One song melded into another and then another as she approached the front few lines of dedicated groupies, and then finally she was at the foot of the stage.

Alex shut her eyes to truly hear him, and it was his real voice now that floated over her, not an imitation that blew through the loudspeakers across the park. Soft, sensual, erotic and deadly. Cobain, Morrison and now Tristan. A long line of powerful, doomed rock stars, too big to exist comfortably in a repressive world. Would Tristan fall to the same fate? She feared he was drawing too much attention to himself and that many in his secret society were already displeased. Then stop him Alex, her inner voice urged and she opened her eyes.

He had moved on to singing Secret Garden. He always did love Springsteen, she thought wryly, remembering how he would pop on a record many a time after sex. Raw, passionate and oozing sex appeal, Tristan was all these things and more. Up on that stage now, he even sounded more than a little like the Boss. Alex listened to the words. Was he singing about her?

Tristan was on the far side aiming his words directly at a particular young girl, perhaps only a teenager. Alex’s lips curled up in a smirk. Some things never changed. And then he was glancing across the crowd, and then at the front row. Alex’s breath stopped and she clutched her locket as a reflex.

At that moment he saw her and stared. His lips no longer moved and the crowd filled in the words instead. Alex met his shocked gaze and offered him a shrug to let him know she was as confused as him. He recovered himself and completed the song. A moment later Tristan announced a short break and disappeared back stage.

Lively chatter ascended from the concert goers and Alex slipped away to the sidelines, walking numbly through empty space away from the lights and friendly noise. Shadows enveloped her, removing her from the view of the crowd.

She felt his presence behind her but didn’t move, preparing herself for his questions. Finally Alex turned to face him.

“Tristan I- ”

He flew at her bird-like and she hit the soft ground silently. Falling over her, Tristan clamped a hand over her mouth.

Check this story out on Amazon, Smashwords and Goodreads.

"Claire: the Lost Fae" by Aithne Jarretta (Paranormal Romance)

Genre:  Contemporary Paranormal Romance

Summary:  Solitary CLAIRE BRINAWELL moves from place to place chased by the forces of darkness. Even in slumber when dreaming usually fills the mind and soul with beauty, a hateful hound from Hades finds his way in with deadly intentions. Claire isn't safe anywhere.

LEESON, Worthy Prince of Baderon in Annwn, lives Earthside of the magical Annwn veil. He has been sent to find Claire. Leeson arrives at a pivotal moment and confronts two Hounds of Hades in a battle over Claire.

Triumphant in his first skirmish with the darkside, they must return to San Francisco's sacred pyramid. Leeson discovers Claire has a mind of her own. His stubbornness meets Claire's feisty determination. Will they unite in purpose and free Claire of her daemons?

Excerpt:

Claire tilted her head and stared up into blackness. An odd sensation gripped her throat. She fought through the fear, and finally squeaked, "And exactly what destination is that?"

"Up the rungs and through a stone on your left."

"Wonder if I believe that one." She started climbing. "Heights," she muttered. If there was anything she truly didn't like, it was being high in the air. Give her the ground under her feet. A car or even a train was her idea of perfect traveling.

Claire climbed. Magical lights on either side of them lit the earthly shaft with just enough glow to see their direction.

Higher and higher up through the earth they journeyed.

After what seemed like fifty rungs, she stopped and looked down. "Whoa!"

Leeson's wand, stuck from a loop on the back of his long coat. The tip lit the shaft.

Seeing how far they had climbed sent spikes of fear through all five senses. Her knees went weak.

She gripped the rung in front of her and took several breaths. The smell of earth soothed frazzled nerves.

Claire couldn't help but think of the old well behind the convent. There had been a legend about a young boy surviving a fall into the wet depths.

Claire shivered as the memory passed through her thoughts.

"Nice view, isn't it?" Leeson's voice came up to her edged with laughter.

"You better not mean my butt!"

"Now that you mention it..."

She shoved her right foot downward. The only thing her foot found was empty air. Embarrassment made her flinch. The worn leather sole of her left boot slipped off the ladder rung.

"Ahhh!" Heart pounding, Claire realized her fingers were slipping. She kicked empty air. Fingers seeking something to grip scratched at the walls.

Panic!

"Easy."

Strong arms surrounded her.

Claire gasped and sputtered. Masculine scent filled her lungs. Words eluded while supercharged heat raced through her veins. The fabric of his coat was suddenly the dearest lifeline.

Buy this story on Amazon.  Visit Aithne's website here.