Tactical Magik (Immortal Ops)

by Roth, Mandy M.

  The man was dynamite in bed. She didn’t think any other could compare and she didn’t ever want to try another out. Eadan was hers and she didn’t need another man.

  Just her mate.

  My mate, she mused.

  “Mmmhmm,” he whispered against her ear, finding a rhythm as he made slow, sweet love to her.

  She dug at his back, clinging to him, wanting him to push through her. He increased his pace and within seconds she was on the verge of coming. He pushed in and held deep, his magik caressing hers. Suddenly, it felt as if fingers were rubbing her clit.

  Gasping, she came hard, digging her nails into his flesh. She could smell his blood welling. Something primal in her took over. She brought her hand around and licked the blood clean. Her eyes burned for a fraction of a second and the magik around them increased.

  Inara looked up at Eadan as he lost control and exploded in her. He looked surprised. She barely managed to cover her mouth before a sneeze broke free from her. There was a loud boom and the room shook.

  Eadan stayed in her and began to laugh.

  Inara blinked at him. “W-what happened?”

  He glanced to the side. The tray of food that had been on the table was thrown to the other side of the bedroom. That wasn’t all. The dresser was on its side. And the table was pressed against the door.

  She gasped. “Ohmygod, what happened?”

  “You happened.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Your lycan side just claimed me too.”

  She rubbed her nose. “Why did I sneeze again?”

  “I have that effect on you.” Eadan kissed the top of her head. “It’s our one day anniversary of being man and wife.”

  “It's probably time you tell me you love me, don’t just think it,” she said, already knowing he did.

  He waggled his brows. “I love you.”

  She smiled up at him. “I love you too. Mostly for your body. The rest of you is all right too. Though, they should really market an allergy tab for you faeries. I bet pixies wouldn’t make me sneeze so much.”

  Eadan lost it, kissing her neck, making her cackle in his arms as he tickled her. He stopped his sensual assault and looked down at her, his hair spilling all around them. “Inara, when I was getting food from the kitchen, I got a call.”

  She waited for what he had to say. It looked important.

  “About Jimmy.”

  She closed her eyes. “I know. He’s dead.”

  “That’s just it,” Eadan said. “PSI doesn’t think he is.”

  She stared up at her husband. “You’ll look for him?”

  He let out a slow breath. “For you, yes.”

  “And that is just another reason I love you.”

  THE END

  About the Author, Mandy M. Roth

  Mandy M. Roth grew up fascinated by creatures that go bump in the night. From the very beginning, she showed signs of creativity—writing, painting, telling scary stories that left her little brother afraid to come out from under his bed. Combining her creativity with her passion for the paranormal has left her banging on the keyboard into the wee hours of the night.

  She’s a self-proclaimed Goonie, loves 80s music and movies and wishes leg warmers would come back into fashion. She also thinks the movie The Breakfast Club should be mandatory viewing for...okay, everyone. When she's not dancing around her office to the sounds of the 80s or writing books, she can be found designing book covers for NY publishers, small presses, and indie authors.

  Mandy writes for The Raven Books, Samhain Publishing, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Harlequin Spice, Pocket Books and Random House/Virgin/Black Lace. Mandy also writes under the pen names Reagan Hawk, Mandy Balde, Rory Michaels and Kennedy Kovit.

  To learn more about Mandy, please visit www.mandyroth.com or send an email to mandy@mandyroth.com.

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  Act of Mercy (PSI-Ops Series / Immortal Ops) by Mandy M. Roth

  Paranormal Security and Intelligence Operative Duke Marlow has a new mission: find, interrogate and eliminate the target—Mercy Deluca. She’s more than he bargained for and Intel has it all wrong. She’s not the enemy. Far from it. Intel forgot to mention one vital piece of information—she’s Duke’s mate. And this immortal alpha werewolf doesn’t take kindly to her being in danger.

  Excerpt from Act of Mercy (PSI-Ops / Immortal Ops) by Mandy M. Roth

  Duke Marlow finished typing the last of the reports due in to his handler. Corbin handled more than one Paranormal Security and Intelligence Operative (PSI-Op) and Duke already knew he was Corbin’s most trying. He enjoyed getting under the man’s skin. Corbin was a panther shifter and everyone knew cats and dogs didn’t mix well together. As a full-blooded, born werewolf, Duke tended to get a kick out of giving Corbin as hard a time as possible.

  Duke rotated his neck, working out a kink as he sniffed the air, the wolf in him catching the scent of pending rain. He grinned, knowing he’d be running free in it soon enough. Well, as soon as he finished this damn paperwork. He didn’t understand the point of it. It wasn’t like the organization existed to anyone who asked about it. They were ghosts. Operatives who never were and never would be, at least on paper.

  What the fuck did they want with a paper trail, then?

  The truth of the matter was most of the people within the organization had been there a hell of a long time. Immortality afforded them that luxury. They had some young ones—people under the age of fifty often seemed like pups in his eyes. When you got to his age, most everyone seemed young.

  He looked across the main office in PSI headquarters. Rows of desks filled the large bullpen. There was a raised walkway that circled the rounded room. Various doors dotted it. Some were offices. Others interrogation rooms. Some were termed briefing rooms. One was a hallway to restrooms and a kitchen area and the one he disliked visiting most was just past that—the infirmary.

  He’d been alive a long time and lost too many people to count that he considered friends, even loved ones. He didn’t do well around hospitals or anything of the like. They made him itch. Not as much as planes or anything that flew did.

  He fucking hated to fly.

  He’d had to fly more times than he’d cared to for the week prior when he’d been called in to help a fellow PSI-Op. Eadan Daly was someone he’d consider a friend. Eadan was young yet, barely thirty, but like Duke he’d stopped aging. Somehow, Eadan, even at his young age within the immortal world, had managed to find love and happiness. He and his mate were together. That was what was important. Not the how or whys of how they’d come to be that way.

  Longing still lingered deep within Duke. He wanted what Eadan had. What so many of the I-Ops had—a mate. Wouldn’t happen. Not at his age. If his woman had been out there, he’d have found her by now.

  He focused on his reports. While they may be done, they still needed to be emailed. Damn, he hated computers. Everyone around him seemed to love them, but he liked putting pen to paper, not fingertips to keyboard. He took a lot of grief at the office about his aversion to certain technologies. He wasn’t a luddite, but the others in PSI seemed to enjoy calling him one.

  While he wou
ld forever look to be in his mid-thirties, he was considerably older. With that age came the reluctance to accept change with ease. Plus, he was stubborn by nature. And, truth of the matter was, most of what he was given technology-wise ended up breaking. In his opinion it was shit.

  He’d seen a lot in his life-span. Some good. Some not so good. And some downright horrifying.

  An auburn-haired giant poked his head into the room. Striker McCracken was there, grinning him a grin that said he was ready to be up to no good. He was Dougal only to his momma, who had been buried over a century. Duke knew his real name because he’d actually met the man’s mother, way back when. She been a sweet woman who managed to be half her son’s size, yet still keep him in line nicely.

  “You almost done?” asked Striker, traces of the Scottish accent — which had once been so thick Duke had a difficult time understanding the man — showing through. “I’m positive the bar at the corner has beers with our names on ‘em.”

  With a groan, Duke emailed off his reports. “I fucking hate this thing,” he said, as he tried to get the computer to go to sleep, but it kept instantly waking back up.

  “Name one thing you do like.”

  “Women,” returned Duke.

  Laughing, Striker came to his recuse. He took the wireless mouse from Duke’s grasp. “It’s nae gonna shut down with you bumping the mouse. Here. Let me.”

  Duke slid back in the chair and then stood. “Keep the fucker.”

  Striker continued to laugh. “You know, if you tried a little harder, you might actually learn to like the thing.”

  Sliding his long-time friend a hard look, Duke stood silent. No words needed to be spoken. He’d never bond with his damn computer.

  Administrative Control (Immortal Ops) by Mandy M. Roth

  As Director of Operations for the Immortal Ops Organization, Colonel Asher Brooks has his hands full. When he’s not trying to keep six alpha males in line, he’s trying to help them defeat the enemy. Brooks isn’t the type to share about his personal life. When given the opportunity to have quality time with the one woman who rocks his world, he takes it, regardless of the cost.

  Excerpt from Administrative Control (Immortal Ops)

  Colonel Asher Brooks stepped out of the shadows near the old warehouse. The warehouse had been the scene of one hell of a throw-down. Brooks had seen worse.

  Much worse.

  Truth was, this was hardly a drop in the bucket for him.

  The entire area smelled like a mix of death and fish. Neither were great on their own, but combined they were nauseating. He avoided deep breaths as he surveyed the situation.

  Carnage.

  No one had seen him arrive. They never did. That was how it should be. He needed to be someone the supernaturals he worked with trusted fully without fearing or questioning his loyalty.

  His allegiances were his own and not up for debate with the group or the organization. When he’d been brought into the Immortal Ops program, it had not been lightly. The people who thought they had control of it were wrong.

  Dead wrong.

  Bad decisions had been made. Good people had lost their lives. Brooks was their answer to that. A one-man clean-up crew, if you will.

  He checked his watch. The current crew should have already been done with the warehouse and the pier. The I-Ops and the PSI-Ops had left one hell of a mess. He couldn’t blame them. Helmuth had an army at the ready and had used a portion of it to attack the I-Ops. Sure, the dead were paranormal thugs hell bent on being part of the new wave of supernaturals, but still, a mess was a mess.

  Your men all returned alive. You can’t ask for anything better.

  He could ask that the violence stop, period, but that would never happen. Since the dawn of time, good had been pitted against evil. It would continue to be until the end. There was no changing it.

  He knew. He’d tried.

  He walked up behind the cleanup crew, who had yet to notice his arrival. He’d have a talk with them later about that. They should always be on the ready.

  “Speed it up,” he barked. The two nearest him almost jumped out of their skin.

  They needed to get their shit together and clear out soon. He wouldn’t risk any of them learning personal information about him. He’d been alive too long and seen too many turncoats to trust anyone with what he held precious.

  Or rather, who.

  For more information about these titles and other bestselling Mandy M. Roth titles please visit www.MandyRoth.com

  The Warrior Prince (Dragon Lords) by Michelle M. Pillow

  Bestselling Dragon Shifter Romance

  The Survivor…

  Though no one could ever command her, this warrior would try to conquer her heart…

  Physically scarred in childhood in an act of betrayal, Pia has never been considered an attractive woman. One horrible mistake and she is on the run. Desperate to hide her identity, she makes a deal with Galaxy Brides—in exchange for a new face, she’ll marry anyone they put in front of her. Never did she realize her future husband would be the most handsome warrior of the Draig.

  The Warrior…

  Though no man could thwart the brave Draig leader, a woman would be his undoing…

  Zoran of Draig is a man who knows what he wants. He has to. Being a Prince and the Captain of the Draig Guard, he has to make swift decisions, be ready to battle at a moment’s notice, and most of all, he always has to be in control. When his wife, the one person who should obey him refuses to, Zoran discovers the battle for his heart’s desire is fiercer than any he has ever waged before. Could the conqueror become the conquered?

  The Warrior Prince (Dragon Lords) Excerpt

  “Maybe you ladies should let a man show you how it’s done,” a voice from the crowd called.

  “Ach,” Agro cried. “You’re hardly a man, Hume!”

  Pia flashed a grin at Hume, who immediately crushed his hand over his heart. She took her new set of knives Zoran had given her, weighing them carefully in her hand as she tested them. Getting to the third one, she lifted it and studied the blade. Frowning, she went to her husband and handed it to him. Zoran uncrossed his arms and took it from her, letting his finger slyly glide over the pulse at her wrist. His mouth twitched but gave nothing away as Pia shivered.

  Pia looked him directly in the eye, moving her hands to his waist, she lifted his tunic aside and let her nail scrape lightly over his skin as she retrieved a replacement blade from the back side of his waist. His stomach tensed, but his face gave nothing away as she withdrew a blade and began testing it as she had the others. His eyes, however, glinted with just enough liquid fire to leave her body very excited.

  When he glanced curiously at the replacement blade, she announced loudly for all the men to hear, “You need to check the balance on that one. It will pull a fraction to the right.”

  With hardly moving a muscle, Zoran threw the blade over her shoulder. It stuck just to the right of the target. The men laughed heartily in approval.

  Not turning around, Pia said, “Told you.”

  Zoran’s lip curled up at the side, excited by her confidence. He stood, waiting for his wife to take her first turn, his stomach tight as he waited to judge her skill for himself.

  Going before the target, Pia took a deep breath. She’d seen the challenge in Zoran’s gaze. She would make him proud.

  Flinging one of the blades at the post, she didn’t wait for it to land before rapidly dropping to the ground to throw two more in roll. Then, coming to kneel, she threw the last two. The fourth blade struck against Zoran’s to knock it free, before sticking in its place. On the fifth throw, she turned her arm and it missed the post completely. The warriors watched in stunned silence, their eyes following the path of her last throw. It was a foot before Hume, sticking hilt up and tipped forward to the man.

  “You missed,” Hume said, to break the silence. The men went wild cheering. Pia took a graceful bow. The women jumped in excitement, basking in Pia’s vi
ctory.

  The Dead Tell by Jaycee Clark

  Book One in The Dead series.

  Some people talk with the living, some speak with the dead…

  Paige Holcomb enjoys her life in New Orleans. Friends she considers family, a man she can’t figure if he’s a friend or more, and of course the others. The others being those who aren’t breathing and who gravitate to her for help. Why she’s cursed, she’s never figured out, but help the ghostly women she will.

  Nothing much shocks homicide detective Mike Killian, but the stubborn woman he’s been after constantly manages it. Paige gives wary a whole new meaning and he’s given her space and time. But he’s done waiting. She’s his and it’s time she came to terms with that.

  When the ghosts of murdered women start visiting Paige, Mike will do whatever he must to keep her safe while she learns to use her ability to help stop a murderer before it’s too late.

  To find out more about these books or to read other books from The Raven Books visit www.TheRavenBooks.com