by D McEntire
After the debacle with the vampire Mikhail during winter solstice last year, Fayne’s pleasure-seeking life had been derailed by the unexpected inclusion of a six-year-old mortal child. He smiled at the thought of the boy he called son, Max. Few things were more important to a were-cat than physical gratification and their own creature comforts, but his son was his top priority. Max came first with him.
Period.
End of story.
Even though he loved Max and would sacrifice anything for his welfare, for the next few weeks Fayne was free to do as he pleased. Max was off with his friend Bliss in South America on an archeological dig and having the time of his life.
Certain that his son was well taken care of, Fayne had other pressing matters to attend to. With only a few more days until the full moon, time was growing short and he had to act fast. He glanced at the women sitting with Shai and Jennifer.
To Shai’s right sat a stunning brunette with dark red claws. She was lovely, but there was something brittle about her. Across from her sat Melanie Reynolds, the movie actress. She wore a barely-there pink leather dress, and her breasts were in danger of escaping. Too overblown and very married—two things he avoided.
There was something to be said about subtlety. As he’d prowled through the years, Fayne realized that he appreciated the subtle woman. The one who lightly dabbed perfume on the back of her knees rather than bathing in it. She wore high-collared shirts and demure lace bras rather than crotchless panties and garter belts. A confident woman didn’t need to proclaim her femininity to everyone around her, it simply was what it was. The women most men would overlook intrigued him the most. The shy ones who didn’t command center stage and constantly play the ‘me me’ game. Women who glanced away rather than returning his gaze boldly. Of course they always looked back again, just in case they were mistaken and he hadn’t been looking at them. The subtle shyness, the faint blush of color on their cheeks when they realized it was them who held his attention. They all had their stories to tell—their darkness and their light.
He lived to ferret out their secrets.
Turning, his gaze landed on the woman standing on the stage. This beautiful little wren wasn’t so much understating her sexuality as being completely unaware of it. She’d buried her feminine curves beneath layers of ill-fitting clothing and long, heavy hair so that most men would overlook her.
But not him.
What did she look like with no clothing on? Did she prefer serviceable white cotton lingerie or was she the kind of woman who dressed like a schoolteacher on the outside while wearing miniscule thong panties?
His groin tightened.
Either worked for him as lingerie had a tendency to get torn off women’s bodies when he was around. Be it cotton or silk, the only thing he wanted to see it on was the floor.
Glancing over at Shai’s friends, he smiled. No, he’d found his mate. He smiled as he turned his attentions back to the woman on the stage. She’d do perfectly.
It was time for the cat to prowl.
She holds the key to unlock his past—or unleash hell.
Love’s Alchemy
© 2009 Ciar Cullen
Sidra Patmos has the ability to see the real underbelly of lower Manhattan—a horrifying world where wraiths, demons and a few quirky mortals battle for supremacy. Desperate, she seeks out a paranormal researcher to tell her why her life is a waking nightmare.
Instead of answers, her meeting with the dark and irresistible Van Barlowe unleashes a chain of events far more dangerous than her blackest visions. And a desire she can barely manage to hold at arm’s length.
After three desperate centuries, Van has finally found the Alchemist. Sidra. Somewhere locked deep inside her lies the knowledge that will rescue his family from ruin. The only way to reawaken her abilities is to hold his enemies at bay long enough to convince her to step through the mists of time.
Redemption waits there, and a timeless bond ignited by the undeniable pull between them. The missing ingredient: Sidra’s willingness to risk that Van’s attraction runs deeper than sexual chemistry…
Enjoy the following excerpt for Love’s Alchemy:
Sidra sat on the bed and thought about the intense longing for Van that pulled at her, longing older and deeper than possible in the few days she’d known him. She rubbed her palm across the shades of brown silk artfully covering the enormous bed.
“I think he’s still in love with you, Van. I think part of me feels his pain, his fear, his excruciating need for you. I don’t think it died with his body.”
“You finally believe, then?”
Sidra nodded. Since her vision of the past, the evening before, tiny flickers of memory beckoned to her, but she’d been pushing them down. She lay back on the bed, closed her eyes, and with a quick prayer for protection, opened herself to the realization that she was really remembering another person’s life.
“Do you remember any more?”
“Bits and pieces. Nothing important, I’m afraid. The smell of wood burning, the sound of heavy glassware, the laughter of men. Utter exhaustion. The feel of a pen in my hand, my arm shaking from tiredness, my eyes burning from sleeplessness. I feel pangs of unfamiliar pain, emotional pain, as if life itself had become such a burden as to be intolerable. Right before I woke this morning I thought I saw men and women gathered around me as I lay in bed. They were crying.”
“That all makes sense to me.” His eyes looked strained, and Sidra wanted to ease his troubled heart.
“Do you want me to try to understand him, to reach out to him for you?”
Van sat by her side and squeezed her hand. “No, not now. I want you, Sidra. Whatever you might feel for me.”
Sidra opened her eyes. “You only have feelings for your Maker. This has nothing to do with me.”
“I can’t separate the two, love, I’m sorry. I only know that I haven’t felt this way before in my life, and that this is not what I felt for Isaac. I’m desperate for you, Sidra. I know I come with a heavy price tag for a woman who’s lost too much already. Maybe it’s not worth it to you? I can’t promise I won’t die, that we’ll figure this out.”
“We’ll figure it out. We have to.”
“Why?” Van leaned in and kissed her on the lips, moved to her neck, nibbling his way down her cleavage. “Tell me. Say it, Sidra.”
“Let this be enough, Van.”
“I need to hear it from you.”
Sidra fought to keep the last thread of resistance alive. “I’m sure enough women have told you they were in love with you.”
“Many. I wasn’t in love with them.”
“You’re not in love with me. You’re all caught up in your past.”
“Don’t deny me my own thoughts, Sidra. Isaac gave me life, but he also gave me free will. I’m asking for both from you. Tell me you love me back.”
“I love you back,” she muttered.
“You’re really annoying.”
Sidra pulled off her shirt and bra and stepped out of her shoes and jeans.
“Get back here,” he gasped through clenched teeth.
“You’re pretty impatient for a guy who’s been around a couple hundred years.”
“I feel like I’ve had this hard-on for a couple hundred years.”
“Let’s see what we can do about that, impatient one.” Sidra helped him out of his slacks and boxer shorts. Sidra ran her palm along the taut length of his shaft, tracing her fingers over the large veins pulsing with his life’s blood.
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