Myla By Moonlight

by Inez Kelley

  Bryton pulled Taric to his feet and gripped his forearm tight. A silent nod and they reaffirmed their friendship, their responsibilities and their commitment. They needed no mark to be bonded as brothers. But Bryton, being who he was, had to let his mischievous humor into the ceremony.

  “You just couldn’t stand the thought of me not having a scarred-up chest like you, could you, Lord Justittydumb?”

  The men in the room sniggered and Taric’s cheeks twitched with his grin but he did slide a glance toward Katina. “A wedding on the crown would make an awfully nice reward, wouldn’t it?”

  Katina blushed and Bryton flushed the same shade as his hair. “What’s the penalty for knocking a not-yet-crowned big-mouthed king on his royal ass?”

  “You have to answer to me,” Myla purred with a predatory growl.

  Every man in the room erupted into snickered laughter except for Bryton. He didn’t take her words lightly. He knew. Once a warrior, always a warrior. Myla would always protect what was hers. Taric was hers. For always.

  About the Author

  Inez Kelley writes what she reads, which is pretty much anything with a romantic flair. Deep in the boonies of Appalachia, she lives with her hero, three school-age sequels and two cats. Following the logic of her scattered mind, she took her honors-level advertising degree and became first a restaurant manager and then an E911 dispatcher. Finally the voices in her head became too loud to ignore.

  She now divides her time between creating stories that touch your heart and picking up piles of dirty underwear and socks off the floor, since no one in her family has the ability to actually hit the clothes hamper. The NBA is safe from her genes.

  Stop by www.inezkelley.com and drop her a note. Or you can check out one of two blogs: www.chicks-n-scratching.com or http://talesfromthecrit.wordpress.com/.

  Look for these titles by Inez Kelley

  Now Available:

  Jinxed

  When opposites attract, they are screwed three ways from Sunday

  Jinxed

  © 2009 Inez Kelley

  Frannie learned the hard way that a McHottie doesn’t always equal marriage material. She’s happy with her vanilla life. She has friends, a career and a double-D-powered vibrator. Then Fate shoves her, literally, into Prince Charming’s lap. His declaration of love at first sight is cute—and spikes her bullcrap meter into the red zone.

  She’s more than willing to give in with her body. But she’s barricaded her heart behind castle walls—and permanently welded the gates shut.

  Tragedy taught Jinx that time is too precious to waste, so when a series of uncanny coincidences thrusts Frannie into his life, he holds on tight. He knows she thinks he’s several fries short of a Happy Meal, but he’s determined to breach the fortress around her heart and give her a Happily Ever After.

  Even if he has to carry her fanny-first into his kingdom.

  Warning: includes jelly shoes, a narcoleptic cat and meatloaf. The steamy sex scenes may lead to fogged windows and wet panties so proceed at your own risk. Do not attempt to read without tissues, napkins for spewed beverages, and a booty call on speed dial.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Jinxed:

  After slicing two pieces of cheesecake, hers less than half the size of his, Frannie went to the coffeemaker. When she offered Jinx a cup, he agreed but a dare seeped into his tone. “Take one guess how I like it.”

  As she poured liquid creamer in her cup, she smirked. She added an equal amount of the rich white cream to his cup and handed it to him.

  Chuckling, he took a small sip. “Perfect.”

  “You know, this has got to be some kind of cosmic thing.” She pulled her knees up under her on the chair. “It’s unreal how similar we are.”

  “Well, there are some important differences,” he pointed out, hiding a smile behind his coffee cup. “I don’t have three romance novels tucked underneath my thong panties.”

  “You went through my suitcase!” The accusation in her voice should have made him feel guilty. Instead, he just laughed, arching that devil-black left eyebrow.

  “Tell me you didn’t do the same.”

  Since she couldn’t, Frannie wisely stayed silent and sipped her coffee. A panicky thought burst through her brain. Had she packed anything embarrassing? No. Her vibrator was still in her nightstand drawer and she hadn’t needed the acne cream so far this month, so she was covered. But just knowing his fingers had touched her underwear made her blush. Peering over the rim of her cup, she caught him studying her with intense eyes. The crackle of mutual attraction electrified the air.

  Before she could think of a response, Hocus and Pocus wandered into the kitchen. Idly, Jinx reached down and stroked one silky cat as it twined through his feet. A love-starved Pocus pushed his broad head against Jinx’s calf. With a deep chuckle, he reached lower to pet the animal. A second sneaky black paw darted out from behind his chair. Suddenly, he jerked his arm up, hissing in surprise and pain.

  “Hocus! Pocus! Out!” Frannie scolded, sending both cats scurrying into the living room at breakneck speed. Flirtation fled as mortification barreled into the room. Three long scratches just above Jinx’s right wrist oozed blood. He took a paper napkin and dabbed at it as she ran water on a clean dishcloth.

  “I’m so sorry. Hocus doesn’t like men but he’s never drawn blood before.” Face burning, she handed him the cloth.

  “It’s okay, it’s just a scratch, but it stings like hell.”

  My luck he’ll get some weird cat fungus and sue me. “Come in here. Let me wash it out and put something on it.”

  Frannie led him to a small half bath off the hallway. She poured peroxide on the thin red lines and tried to ignore the way he seemed to take up all the space in the tiny room. There was barely enough room to turn around with him standing beside the sink, and she fumbled with the bottle lid. He was too close, too male, too delicious. The scent of pure masculine essence intoxicated her. She couldn’t think straight.

  It’s not fair. No one should be capable of making a bathroom a sexy place.

  But he did, just by being there. Gone was the easy friendly presence and harmless flirtations which had developed in the kitchen. Here in the tiled closet, he oozed sex appeal. And I like the ooze, damn it! He stepped even closer. Concentrating on drying the foaming bubbles from his arm, she tried to ignore the jerk in her heart. His quiet voice fanned the hair at her temple.

  “So, no husband, but is there a boyfriend I need to worry about?”

  “What?” Why do I always turn into an idiot around this man?

  “If I kiss you, is there a boyfriend somewhere who’s going to clean my clock?”

  Frannie raised her head and stared directly into the deep pools of his eyes. Thick lashes framed his searing gaze, rekindling the smoldering fire he had sparked on the plane. He’s a snake charmer and I’m dancing to his tune. Mesmerized, she couldn’t speak and simply shook her head. He took the damp cloth from her hands and tilted her chin fractionally upward with his knuckle. Her eyes closed as her mouth parted in anticipation. Since the encounter on the plane, she’d been dying to taste his kiss. Soft as a snowflake’s landing, his lips settled across hers.

  Like met like and the electric surge shocked them both. In the same instant, their eyes flew open and locked. A battery charge, the sexual tension sparked with a blue-hot sizzle. Chemistry collided and exploded into immediate and frantic lust. The kiss rocketed from a timid first taste to frenzied longing.

  Frannie moaned as the drum deep inside began pounding. Passion sang through her veins. He nipped her mouth and, without thought, she nipped back, sliding her tongue across his bottom lip. Jinx knew how to kiss—or at least how she liked to kiss—and gave as much as she took, took just what she could give. It was perfect—not too wet, not too dry and just enough oh-my-Gawd-do-that-again. With a half-muttered groan, Jinx pulled her to him, her arms already seeking his shoulders. Like water on satin, her fingers weaved through his hair.

&nb
sp; Good Gawd, if this is heaven, take me now. She met and challenged each thrust and parry of his tongue until they were both breathing harshly. He tasted of creamy coffee and rich cheesecake, two of her weaknesses. A strong suspicion grew that he could easily become a third weakness. She swayed against him, her skin aching to be closer.

  Jinx hefted her up until her butt met the cold marble of the sink vanity. Caught between her widespread knees, he framed her face in large hot hands while he drank his fill from the well of her lips. The increased height perfectly positioned her dampening crotch against his straining zipper and he pulled her hips closer. Her feet met behind his legs as she arched to him. The rough fabric of his fly ground into her flimsily covered slick center. The tightening bud nestled there hardened and throbbed, and she let her head fall back, giving full access of her throat to his heated mouth. He found a spot just below her ear that turned her bones to jelly.

  So maybe this flavor-of-the-month thing had benefits.

  Consumed with the need to feel his skin, Frannie tugged at his shirt collar and he raised her tee shirt hem. Both tops landed on the floor with a soft thwap. Heat engulfed them as passion arced higher. Flesh on flesh, the sparse hair on his chest pricking her nipples, she gasped into his mouth. Jinx seemed as hungry as she was. He cupped a small breast and lightly pinched the tip, swallowing her cry of pleasure. She arched her hips into his groin and felt through thin cotton how hard he was, how hard she’d made him in so short a time. Power surged through her. Clamping her thighs around his hips, she pressed herself harder against the hidden steel. A deep masculine moan sounded low. The rumble deep in his chest vibrated against her swelling breasts, thrilling her. He grabbed her hips once again, pulled her hard against him and rocked his hips forward, lips never leaving hers.

  This is going to be good. It’s like he’s reading my mind. Let’s hear it for similar brain patterns! Wahoooo!

  His maddening mouth slid down her jaw. With her head back against the mirror, she whimpered. Her neck beckoned for his tongue and he skimmed her throat as he tasted and caressed down to her swollen breasts. At last, his lips captured one aching peak. An internal spotlight shone on her, intensifying every zing of pleasure Jinx plucked from her sizzling flesh. Hot and teasing, his tongue provoked each bud to stinging awareness before drawing them into the warmth of his mouth. A soft hum buzzed the pebbled crests.

  Every nerve ending in her body sat up and screamed his name. The soft brush of his hair in her hands was more noticeable than the bite of the faucet in her lower back. The feel of his hot skin against hers created a firestorm, baking her in its heat. Her core turned to molten lava, she pulled his head back to hers and kissed him. Gawd, hurry!

  “Where’s my shaving kit?” he asked between nips of her lips.

  Why does he want to shave now? Oh, wait…shaving kit…condoms. Hallelujah! “Upstairs on my bed.”

  At her last word, he groaned into her mouth. Wanting him more than imaginable, Frannie was reluctant to leave the warmth of his embrace. The bed could wait one minute longer. With lusty patience, Jinx made no move to unseat her, but allowed her tongue and lips to trace a blazing trail down his neck to his shoulder, where she nipped him with sharp teeth. The untamed savagery brought a shiver which spiked her desire another notch.

  He caught her lips once more before whispering, “Let’s go upstairs.” She nodded into his kiss. “I love you, Frannie.”

  Like a bucket of cold water, his words ripped Frannie from her sexual haze and she shoved him away. He stepped back against the wall and her ass slid into the sink basin. The washcloth soaked her ass, cold seeping into her skin.

  “What did you say?”

  “I said I love you.” Wide devil-dark eyes gaped at her.

  The stunned expression on his face might have made her laugh if she hadn’t gone from incredibly horny to incredibly pissed-off in two-point-two seconds. Struggling to pluck her rear end from the sink, she flailed her legs until her thighs, still feeling his body’s crush, caught on the edge and pulled her free. She hopped off the vanity, grabbed her shirt and threw his at him. It hit him squarely in the face as he followed her out of the small bathroom. Her hair poofed with the force of her cotton tee being snapped over her head.

  “You have no idea how royally you just screwed up. Two minutes ago, you were pretty much guaranteed a piece of ass. Now you can get the hell out of my house and stay out!”

  He destroyed a continent. Dethroned a god. Now her love will destroy him…

  Ilfayne’s Bane

  © 2009 Julia Knight

  Oathcursed, Book 1

  Hilde is shunned for her strange looks and ability to dream the future, both unwelcome gifts of the half-kyrbodan blood that flows in her veins. One of those dreams summons the legendary mage, Ilfayne. Beneath his cynicism and penchant for melting eyeballs, she discovers a tortured man driven by demons as cruel as her own. And the only man who doesn’t recoil from her.

  Condemned to four thousand years of loneliness and regret, Ilfayne finds a rare thing in Hilde: a friend. For that, he will do anything to keep her safe. Just as he gathers the courage to reveal the tender feelings he thought he’d lost, her kyrbodan blood forces her to bond with a man of her own race. To deny the bond means she could die. Either way, she is lost to him.

  Now llfayne’s oldest enemy has resurfaced, a sorcerer who will stop at nothing to destroy him. Including targeting their greatest vulnerabilities—Ilfayne’s hidden love for Hilde, and Hilde’s guilt-wracked conscience.

  When the sorcerer makes his move, Hilde holds the lives of two men in her hands—and faces a terrible and deadly choice. Loyalty…or love.

  Warning: This book contains a jaded hero, sarcasm, violence, and magic spells involving aggressive turnips.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Ilfayne’s Bane:

  Hilde woke to cool moonlight and a sense of foreboding. The shadows seemed darker and full of menace as she waited for her hands to stop trembling. She fumbled to put the pendant over her head and stood.

  Something was here, something that held nothing but evil intent. A shiver worked its way up her spine. She swore silently and pressed her back to the tree. The horse shied, pulled itself free with a scream of fear and plunged into the darkness. Dread settled on Hilde’s shoulders like a blanket. She pulled her knife from its scabbard. Her free hand grasped at the rough bark of the tree behind her. The feel of it reassured her she was awake, but that comfort was slim. She could wake from a dream.

  Something white gleamed in the dark, like moonlight on teeth. The shadows shifted. The form of a man stood with her, except this was like no man she had ever seen, more like some malign animal that had worked out how to stand upright. Its skin was a glossy midnight blue, its fangs as long as her knife. Claws tipped its fingers, and a long tail whipped about behind it. It lifted its snout in her direction and scented her while its long tongue ran up and down its fangs.

  Blood drained from her face and her lips felt numb. How little use her knife would be against this beast that towered over her by a head and more, but there was nowhere to run even if she had the strength for it. Someone moaned close behind her and she whipped her head round, but there was only darkness. She turned back to the beast.

  It spoke and the guttural words sounded like someone being sick. In the midst of it, there came a word she knew. “Hilde.”

  Her heart ran to a stop in her chest and then the thing came for her, its claws outstretched to take her by the throat. Her heart started again, to hammer at her ribs like a frantic bird.

  She twisted out of the way to put the tree between them but with a snarl it was on her. A clawed hand grabbed her left arm with what felt like enough force to snap it. The feel of its skin on hers drew a scream from her and she slashed at it. The blade skittered over its skin.

  Its smell threatened to bring up the meagre contents of her stomach, but she bit, kicked and hacked at the beast with all her failing strength. It hissed in pain at a lucky stab tha
t managed to just pierce the skin, and its grip relaxed for an instant. Long enough for her to wrench herself free. Her quiver and bow bounced as she tried to put as much distance between them as she could. It ripped at her, close enough that the breeze washed over her skin as she ran for her life.

  Something crashed amongst the trees, and she shied away until a voice bellowed curses. “You stupid bugger, what have you done this time? Where in the gods’ names…”

  A man, and he spoke the language she knew. She ran towards him. Even vicious nomads would do right now. The beast’s hand dragged at her shoulder and claws dug into her skin to spin her round. A second hand grabbed for her throat to cut off her scream. The claws clenched without mercy, stopped her breath and the blood to her brain.

  The angry voice came again, along with a metallic jangling as though an armoured man had tripped. “What are you doing down there? Get up!”

  Her struggles were no match for the beast’s strength and it dragged her away. If she did not call now she was lost. She twisted in its grip and managed a strangled cry before the hand clamped down again. The creature lifted her by her throat and ran. Stars spun in front of her eyes. A black spot in her vision grew, almost took her, and then the creature threw her to the ground where she gasped and heaved for breath.

  With a roar and a muted flash of steel, a sword buried itself in the beast’s shoulder. Dark rancid blood splattered over her and stung her skin.

  A new voice, soft and menacing, spoke some unknown language. A burst of flame on the creature’s face made it scream and claw its eyes. The sword struck again, straight through its chest, and it fell dead. Its body ignited the grass briefly before the flames sank back to a sullen glow.

  A shadow loomed over her and resolved into a face above mail armour. She scrambled away from him and bumped into another pair of legs. No armour on these, just the slippery leather of breeches.