by Evie Byrne
“Hello?”
Helena blinked. “I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not. But you don’t seem to be bleeding to death, so we’ll come back to what he did to you. Look, you’re the most rational person I know, and you’re telling me that vampires exist. Let’s leave off whether I believe you or not. The Helena I know would have a stack of research and a hypothesis as to why this is perfectly explainable.”
“I’m working on that. There is a good explanation for it, I just don’t know all the facts yet. But I kind of like being surprised along the way.”
“You hate surprises.”
Helena laughed. “I do. It’s true.”
“And, my dear, you know I love you, but you are a bit of a maniac about keeping a nice house. So how am I going to believe that you consented to get up on your folk’s antique dining-room table for a kinky little blood interlude, permanently staining what was—if I ID’d it correctly while peeing my pants—your grandma’s best tablecloth?”
Helena started to laugh and couldn’t stop. She almost slid off her chair. “It was! I did that! Oh, poor tablecloth.”
“Are you high?”
“Yes. I’m free!” She blurted it before she even knew what she was saying, and then thought about it. “Lacey, I don’t have to control things anymore. Sometimes things stain. Sometimes things break. Some things we never understand. It’s okay.”
“Of course.”
“And sometimes you have to do things that frighten you. Because they frighten you. If you don’t take risks, you don’t know what you’re missing.”
Lacey tapped her long fingernails on the table. “Haven’t I been telling you that for years, girlfriend? But you don’t listen to me. Oh no. You listen to the vampire.”
“He didn’t tell me, he showed me. I trust him. He could have done anything he wanted to me from the beginning, and he didn’t. He makes me feel safe, even when he’s asking a lot from me. And just before you walked in, the most amazing thing happened—”
“What happened, solntsa moyo?”
Alex appeared just behind Lacey’s chair, blood stained and tense enough to snap in two.
Helena heard him. Inside. Her head lifted and her pupils dilated wide when she saw him. And then she smiled. He let go of the breath he’d been holding since she’d run out into the snow, since they’d fought in the car, since he’d first tasted her, first seen her, first heard her name.
“I think I saw love in his eyes, Lace. I think somehow he really loves me even though I’m a wreck.”
Lacey followed the direction of Helena’s gaze and gasped.
Alex walked around her chair and knelt in front of Helena. He bent to kiss each of her knees, then kissed her palms. More of her stories lived in him now. Her bruised heart was infinitely precious to him.
“And the thing is, I think I love him too.”
As soon as she said it, her hand flew to her mouth. Her eyes went wide, as if the thought shocked her, but in just a couple of heartbeats they overflowed with tears. She took a deep breath and lowered her hand. Then she smiled at him again. This smile he’d remember for the rest of his life. “I really think I do.”
About the Author
To learn more about Evie Byrne and her work, please visit www.eviebyrne.com.
Look for these titles by Evie Byrne
Now Available:
Dante’s Inferno
Coming Soon:
Bound by Blood
Her destiny rests in their hands…
Very Much Alive
© 2009 Dana Marie Bell
True Destiny, Book 1
Kiran Tate and Logan Saeter have been on the run from Oliver Grimm for so long they’ve forgotten what it’s like to be free. Ending Grimm’s power games won’t be easy, but this time they have an ace in the hole. PI Jordan Grey, Guardian Investigation’s resident hot shot—and Grimm’s step-granddaughter.
Jordan Grey has her doubts when Logan and Kir show up in her office with a tall tale of how her step-grandfather has framed them for murder. And to top it all off, they’re claiming that they’re really the ancient Norse gods Loki and Baldur, and that Grimm is Odin!
When the two lovers see the sexy detective for the first time, stopping Grimm suddenly takes a back seat to seducing her into their arms. But Grimm never rests, and when his anger spills over onto Jordan, it sets them all on a collision course with a destiny that will rock their world…
Warning: This book contains explicit sex, graphic language, some violence, and hot male/male/female action. In fact, it could be considered a religious experience.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Very Much Alive:
Kir closed the door behind himself and Logan after having seen Jordan onto the elevator. He sighed and closed his eyes tightly, completely mortified.
Fuck. Logan saw my reaction to Jordan.
The knowing gleam in his lover’s eyes did not bode well for the coming conversation.
So it was with some surprise he felt Logan gently push his hand into his hair, pulling Kir’s mouth to his own. The kiss was a languid stroking of tongues, not the usual kiss Logan gave. Logan usually preferred hot, heavy kisses, full of passion and the promise of sex. This one was the kind of kiss Kir preferred. Soft, sweet, and full of the love they both felt.
“I love you, you know that, right?”
Kir focused on Logan’s face. “No more than I love you.”
“We need to talk.”
Kir closed his eyes again, not wanting to see the pain in Logan’s.
“Hey.”
He sighed and moved past Logan’s body and into the living room. Dejected, he sat on the sofa, his head in his hands. “I’m so sorry.”
“For what? The fact that you’re attracted to Jordan?”
Kir groaned.
“Kir.” He looked up, surprised to see the understanding on Logan’s face. “Me, too.”
He felt a surprising flash of jealousy at that, but wasn’t sure if it was for Logan or Jordan. Not good…or very good? “You want her, too?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. She’s a hell of a woman.”
Kir found himself nodding his agreement. “She took everything we threw at her in stride.”
“If I was her I would have kicked our asses out of my office, gone and had a few drinks, then convinced myself it never happened right after I called to have the carpet replaced.”
“So what do we do about it?”
They stared into each other’s faces, reading the promises they’d long ago made to each other and the new, sudden want they both felt. No matter how startlingly strong, there was no way Kir would act on it if it meant losing Logan.
Logan was his everything.
Kir reached out first, cupping Logan’s cheek. “I would never do anything to hurt you, Logan.”
“Ditto.” Logan’s face was flushed with pleasure, that demonic grin of his once again gracing his features.
“So, what do we do?”
He watched Logan slouch down onto the floor at his feet, resting his head against Kir’s knees with a contented sigh. “The way I see it, we have two options.”
“Those are?” Kir’s heart rate picked up. He began absently stroking that fiery hair, wondering if Logan was thinking what he was thinking.
“Option one: we walk away from her once this is all over.”
No!
The instant denial raced through his body, causing him to jump. What the fuck? He never had that reaction to losing anyone or anything…other than Logan.
It didn’t help that Logan started to chuckle. “Thought so.”
“Option two?”
His heart was in his throat right up until Logan looked up at him with a leer. “Don’t you just love the French?”
Kir blinked. “Huh?”
“They come up with words for the most amazing concepts.”
“Like?” Kir drawled. He was pretty sure now he knew where Logan was going, but he wanted confirmation before he s
aid anything.
“Ménage a trois. It has such a sexy ring to it, doesn’t it?”
“Permanent ménage?” The words had left his mouth before he even realized the significance of what he was saying. Something about Jordan just…felt right.
Logan’s expression turned serious. “I’m not sure yet.” He shook his head, smirking. “But tell me you aren’t already a little in love with her, and I’ll call you a liar. I mean, damn. She’s got a smart mouth, hot body, bodacious ass, and she’s clever as all hell. And she wants both of us.”
Kir opened his mouth to say the words and found them stuck in his throat. “Damn.”
“Ditto.”
“How the hell did that happen?”
“I don’t know, but it did.” Logan was frowning again, this time in confusion. “It’s like we’ve found something we didn’t even know was missing. But if you asked, I would walk away from this. You know that.” For the first time, Kir saw Logan’s uncertainty peek through, reminding him of the broken man Loki had been after Baldur freed him from the mountain. The reckless youth he was had been burned away by the snake’s acid, leaving behind a damaged man who tossed and turned at night, screaming denials as he relived everything over and over again. It had taken Kir a long time to ease his lover’s torment. He also knew their relationship was the foundation the now confident, cocky man who was still inclined to take risks stood on.
Which was why he’d been so upset about his reaction to Jordan. But knowing that Logan felt the same eased that guilt Kir thought about taking Jordan and making her theirs. Thanks to Logan’s ability to shift genders as well as shape, Kir had been happily bisexual for centuries now. He’d felt no need to go outside the relationship when Logan could, literally, be everything and anything he needed. Logan, on the other hand, hadn’t been able to explore that side of himself with Kir, since Kir couldn’t change his shape. He knew that sometimes Logan longed for soft, scented flesh, rounded breasts and bellies, all of the things he’d given up when he’d pledged himself to Kir. But Logan, for all his wild youth and unhappy marriage, hadn’t cheated on him once. And not once, through all of the long centuries, had either of them had the urge to add a third to their relationship.
Now, with the advent of one small, half-human woman, all of that was about to change. He could give the touch of a female back to his lover, and have them both for himself. He thought back to the odd feeling he’d had on the beach, that something was about to happen that would change them, and felt that sensation once more before it settled into a comfortable purr.
He saw the relief on Logan’s face as he nodded his acceptance.
Jordan was theirs. Now they just had to seduce her to them.
Just because Fate brings you your perfect mate doesn’t mean it’ll be easy.
Fated
© 2008 Lauren Dane
A Cascadia Wolves story.
Could there be any worse fate than a road trip from Seattle to L.A.—with one’s mother—to attend a wedding? Why yes, when one isn’t married yet, like Megan Warden. Toss in a grandmother and a carload of already married sisters and it’s a recipe for sneaking sips of “special” coffee while someone else drives.
Shane Rosario has better things to do than attend a wedding where his father’s relatives will be at him nonstop about getting married and having children. If it weren’t for seeing his anchor bond, Layla, he’d have taken a pass on the entire weekend. It would be easy, since he’s become adept at hiding who and what he is.
When the two weren’t even looking, Fate steps in and before they know it, their bond is sealed. Bonded pair, married in the eyes of their people. Two people tied together in every way. Trouble is, Shane’s not sure he wants all that comes with Megan. And Megan’s certain she’s not willing to live outside her pack, pretending to be human.
The distance between them is more than geographical. It’s a widening gulf rapidly filling with resentment…an emotional divide only acceptance could bridge. Can Shane can accept himself to cross it? Only if they let love take control.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Fated:
He could no longer hold on once they entered her room and she locked the door. His head swam in a sea of her scent. Of her desire, of the basic imprint of her on the room around him. He. Had. To. Claim. Her.
When she turned to face him, the primal male inside him thrilled to see her eyes widen at how close he stood to her. A soft sigh filtered from her mouth. A mouth he set his own to and fell.
Her taste roared through him. His senses hummed with satisfaction, his body hardened as his brain filled with all that was his woman. He wanted to consume her, wanted every inch of her inside and out. Never in his life had anyone ever held so much fascination for him and for the first time since he’d began to really struggle with who and what he was, he reveled in it. Accepted that he was a werewolf and she was his mate. The freedom of it was nearly as heady as the connection of their two hearts and souls.
Her head fell against the door as he pulled the front of her pretty dress open, the muted sounds of buttons flying and pinging off the carpet and walls filling the space between heaving breaths. Beneath was a feast for his eyes. Acres of creamy skin. A flat belly. Pretty dark blue panties and a matching bra.
Bending his head, he feasted on the smattering of freckles on the curve of her right breast as he popped the catch of her bra, freeing them into his grateful hands.
“Oh!” she exclaimed. “More. Touch me, Shane. Claim me.”
She writhed against him and his body reacted as her scent filled him up to the bursting point. He wanted her with single-minded intensity.
“God. God. You’re so fucking beautiful. I…” Instead of saying more he showed her. Cruised his mouth along her collarbone. Sturdy. Strong and yet totally feminine. He licked along the hollow of her throat, swallowing the frantic beat of her pulse, tasting the echo of his own need as it seeped from her skin.
Her nipples, so sensitive they beaded as he moved to them, tasted like everything he’d ever wanted and never knew he craved. Her arousal hung between them like something tangible. The scent held him, fascinated, enthralled. His cock throbbed along with the beat of her heart under his tongue as he licked up the line of her chest, up her neck, capturing her earlobe for just a brief moment until she cried out.
“Help me!”
With two moves, his pants were down. He kicked them free and she wrapped a long, muscular leg around his waist, drawing him tight to her. Her dress hung in tatters. He yanked off her panties, the sound of ripping silk doing things to him low and deep.
All he could think on was shoving his cock into her even as he knew he should take his time, show her pleasure.
“Inside or I will maim you,” she gasped out and he obliged, guiding his cock to her gate. The slippery entrance bathed the head of his cock in wet heat.
He laughed, totally happy for the first time in his life, as he surged up and into her body with a cry of joy.
He stilled and she felt more than just his cock inside her, it was as if she’d cracked herself open and he’d settled within her. His joy ebbed into her very bones, married with hers. It was so right. Tears swam, blurring her vision. Her view of this man’s face. His beautiful face.
It was then, her gaze locked with his, as he pressed back inside, she saw his wolf there, in his eyes. The loneliness of it struck her deep. This wolf of his wanted to be free, to be loved and she knew then, knew as she knew he was hers, their road would not be easy.
“Your wolf is so beautiful,” she said softly. Despite that knowing, she knew she wanted him forever and would fight for him too. For that moment, she would revel in what they had because it was beautiful.
How do you ditch your Fairy Godmother?
Wishful Thinking
© 2008 Evangeline Anderson
The Swann Sisters Chronicles, Book 1
As her 25th birthday approaches, mild-mannered Philomena Swann lives in terror of her annual birthday wish. Sur
e, she has a disinterested fiancé and a misogynistic boss, but from experience she knows wishing both away could result in disaster. Why? Because she and her sisters are one-eighth fairy. Not enough to give them magical powers, but enough to qualify for a fairy godmother—from hell.
All Phil wants is, just once, to have the courage to speak her mind. She blurts out her wish…and suddenly finds she can’t stop. To her friends. Her boss. Her Nana. And her best friend, hot and hunky co-worker, Josh. Before she can do any more damage, she begs for the spell to be reversed. And it is—with a vengeance. Now everyone else is compelled to tell her the truth. Including Josh.
But the fairy godmother’s not done. One more wish could change Phil’s world forever—if it doesn’t ruin her life first.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Wishful Thinking:
“Phil, don’t you know nothing you could say would make me want to stop being your friend?” Josh stopped in front of her and crossed his arms over his broad chest. There was amusement but also concern in his deep brown eyes. Phil could see herself reflected in their depths, looking like a frightened rabbit. “Okay,” he said, “Come on, hit me with your best shot.”
“What?” Phil was still trying to keep the nursery rhyme lodged in her brain but it was breaking up. Mary had a little…a little…a tall, sexy coworker. No, that isn’t right!
“You heard me.” He had a serious look on his good-natured face now. “Give it to me with both barrels. I want you to say whatever comes to mind about me and I promise not to be offended. Nothing off limits, just go ahead and get it over with.”
“Josh, please don’t make me.” Phil felt like she was going to cry. Mary had a little lamb was dissolving into a senseless blur of syllables. Soon her traitorous thoughts would begin leaking out.
“I can take it,” he said. “You want to tell me I’m a pig or that I need to shut up or—”