I shrugged out of the robe, letting it puddle around my feet. Doubt flashed across Nora’s face as I stood there naked. I closed my eyes, reached deep inside of myself, touched the wolf and Changed.
Pain. A tractor-trailer’s worth and more. It burst within me like an explosion, as heat and jagged agony ripped through me. My bones broke, realigned; muscles tore, re-knitted; tendons snapped, reattached. Fur pushed from my skin. I felt my mouth tearing away from my face, my cheek and jawbones shattering as it stretched into a muzzle and filled with deadly fangs. The suffering stopped all at once, as completely as if it had never been. I stood there as wolfbreed, feeling the strength coiling through my muscles, reveling in how alive the world smelled, how crisp and deep the sounds were now.
I leapt forward, and I loved the powerful spring and release of my leg muscles as they launched me toward the counter. When I landed on it, a brass nameplate and a fake spider plant crashed to the floor. I crouched down, my arms dangling between my legs with my long claws curving out of my fingers. The snarling growl I gave Nora was low, but she flinched backward all the same.
“This isn’t—” Nora began.
“Is there anyone else here?” Tom kept the shotgun aimed at her.
Nora shook her head. Her hair brushed against her face, lagging a half second behind the motion of her head. I lifted my muzzle, sniffing, tasting the air.
“She’s lying.” I sent my thought to Tom across our Bond. I could smell another werewolf in the back offices. The scent was faint but undeniable.
“I know,” he sent back. Then aloud to Nora: “Get him out here. Now!”
Fear scent began to bleed out of Nora’s pores. I could smell it mixed with fresh sweat. “I don’t know what—”
I growled again, giving a menacing glimpse of teeth. Nora glanced at me, and then looked back toward the offices. I smelled the Change as the were behind the door shifted into wolfbreed.
“He’s gonna fight,” I sent. “We don’t have much time. They’ve already alerted the pack.”
We’d anticipated their communication across the Bond. If we moved fast, we’d be long gone before any help arrived. The more savage part of me felt regret. Already my heart rate had slowed and my wolfbreed body felt limber, powerful, almost aching for a contest. The wolf urge to battle seethed in my muscles, but I kept it on a double-wrapped chain.
The other werewolf hammered out from the back room, sending the cheap, hollow door splintering off its hinges with a massive hole dead center. He leapt into the hallway, his eyes blazing amber, fangs bared. I’d seen him before, I recognized that bark-colored fur and that swath of black beneath his chin. His smell was familiar, but I couldn’t remember that damn name.
“Handle him,” Tom sent. He kept the shotgun on Nora, whose gaze remained flat and far away. I recognized the look. She was talking across the Bond to the entire pack.
The brown wolfbreed dropped down on all fours and shot out of the hallway. My claws dug into the fake panel counter as I gathered myself and launched at him. Tom never moved the barrel of the shotgun—never even glanced at the oncoming snarling freight train of fur and fangs.
The ultimate battle is waged with one’s heart.
Going the Distance
© 2009 Mandy M. Roth
Paranormal Deathmatch, Book 1
Extreme fighting champion Quinn Padgett once had it all. Fame, fortune, freedom. One fateful night it was all stripped away, and for two years the alpha male has endured a torturous life, doing the bidding of a madman in a different kind of ring. The Deathmatch, where the only rule is kill or be killed.
It’s as primal as it gets, and Quinn must draw on all his werewolf instincts to survive. Especially with Carri. Her very presence brings him to his knees, demanding he do all to protect her.
Carri had no idea how close danger lurked until she witnessed her boyfriend’s sick idea of “entertainment”. Now all she wants is to get away from the bastards who are hell-bent on ridding the world of that which they do not understand. But her boyfriend’s reach is long—and brutal. Quinn is her only hope. And the only man who awakens a fire within her, body and soul.
As Quinn and Carri go on the run in a fight for their lives, they find themselves engaged in an even deeper and more dangerous battle—a battle of the heart.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Going the Distance:
His heart raced. “No.”
It couldn’t be.
She was dead.
Quinn looked harder at the woman, inhaling deeper. There was no denying it. She was the same woman he’d sensed two years prior. She was Carri. The one he’d run to, trying to save only to find himself at the hands of madmen. The very woman he’d sampled paradise with, her kiss divine. A piece of him had died that day. He’d assumed she was gone, her body rejecting the healing agents in his saliva and blood. That’s what his captors had told him. They’d taunted him again and again, reminding him that his attempt at being a humanitarian had fallen flat—leaving a woman to suffer a horrible death at the hospital. When he’d learned of her passing, Quinn stopped planning an escape and resigned himself to his fate. Having her with him, in the warehouse, alive and well rekindled his quest for freedom, for her.
The rush of lust left him wishing he had a free hand to adjust himself. His cock throbbed. No other woman had ever made his body answer so quickly, so intensely with nothing more than a stare. It was as if everyone but her ceased to exist for a fraction of a second. His heart thumped madly, his sinewy body eager to be free of his restraints in order to go to her.
The beauty amongst the enemy.
The light in the darkness.
He blinked, coming to his senses. The angry mob around her, pressed in, knocking Carri to and fro before she disappeared under the sea of people. His body responded violently, hardening, going prone, ready for another fight.
“No!” he roared with the need to protect her at all costs. He’d thought her dead and for twenty-four of the longest months of his life, he’d run the scenario of that night, long ago, through his head. Always wondering what would have happened had he been a few minutes earlier or if he’d have paid attention to his surroundings instead of getting lost in her kisses. Would she have lived? Would they have had the happily ever after so many people preached about?
When he’d awoken to find himself shackled, he had been taunted about her passing. They’d accused him of allowing her to die. Lies. All lies.
She’s here and I’ll be dammed if I let her go again.
Surging forward, Quinn charged the guard as he opened the cage door. He bent his head, going low, using his shoulder to attack the man. The guard fell away and others shouted. All he heard was the soft cry of the female who had captured his attention so long ago and never released it. She was hurt. He could almost feel her pain.
Mindlessly, Quinn yanked his arms, breaking the shackles and freeing his hands. The silver cuffs remained on his wrists. Links of the broken chain dangled, striking his forearms, burning the skin upon contact.
Another guard came at him, carrying an electric prod. Quinn flashed a gleaming white smile at the man, already knowing he looked every bit the animal he was capable of being. He let his eyes flicker to that of the wolf’s icy blue. The guard stopped dead in his tracks before making a hasty retreat.
“That’s right, buddy. Run.”
Quinn knew others would come. They always did. On borrowed time, he charged forth, thrusting people away as he made a line through the now hysterical crowd, pushing in search of Carri.
His entire body responded to the scent of her and he knew he was close. She was the same, yet different. If he didn’t know better, Quinn would have said she still held the faintest hint of his scent upon her. He’d shared his blood with her so long ago that it shouldn’t be the case now. He shoved the last remaining human from his path, revealing the woman to him. His gut clenched. She was bloody and broken, as she’d been two years prior. A deafening sound ripped free of him and h
e bent to scoop her up only to find himself struck from behind. Electricity surged through him, bringing pain with it. His fingers and toes curled as streaking hot, tingling numbness filled him. His jaw set, his teeth grinding.
He just missed picking her up and fell to a knee before her. He used his body as a shield, keeping her from further harm as he was once again struck with an electric prod. His body was so close to hers yet not touching, preventing the current from passing through him to her. The guards spat hate-filled remarks at him. For once, he felt like everything they accused him of being.
An animal. A monster.
The raw need to protect the female below him was all consuming. His mind and body agreed on one vital thing.
She was not to be harmed.
An efflux of strength and resolve pushed through him and he struck out blindly, knocking away two attackers with one blow. Still, the onslaught continued. Admitting defeat wasn’t a possibility. He’d been under the thumb of his keepers for almost two years. He knew how they operated, what they did to assure compliance on the part of the animals they housed. They would use Carri against him. They would threaten her to keep him in line and in the end, they would kill her to teach him a lesson.
“Get him!” one yelled.
Quinn’s lips curled into a smile. Fangs showed and he permitted a partial change, knowing his eyes would burn with the wolf. Another jolt of electricity passed through him, this time seeming to invigorate him more than anything.
He spun, lashing out wildly, scoring a direct hit. He caught hold of one of the prods and the victim became the wielder of the weapon. He struck one of the guards, returning the favor. The guard was human and the energy too much for him to handle. Guilt never entered Quinn’s mind even as the scent of charred flesh reached him. He knew they would hurt or possibly kill the woman he fought to protect.
Someone whistled, catching his attention. He twisted to find a guard standing above Carri, aiming a weapon at her head. Quinn was fast but he wasn’t fast enough to be able to stop the guard should he choose to end the woman’s life.
He put his hands up, stopping his attack almost instantly. He dropped to his knees, signaling surrender.
The guards converged on him, striking with everything they had. A sick thought occurred to him as he struggled to stay conscious.
It’s always a woman who brings me to my knees.
Only in each other will they discover how to be truly free.
Puma
© 2008 Jorrie Spencer
Callie, a cat-shifter, is a loner by virtue of the puma that lives inside her. After a job gone bad, her very human need for contact sends her in search of the only family she has. Callie finds her foster sister in a disturbing living arrangement. Something is seriously wrong in a place where people “belong” to one man and silence is enforced to the point a seven-year-old girl pretends to be autistic.
Dev Malik thinks it’s odd to see a strange woman in the tall grass behind his house, but he doesn’t have the time to ponder why. He’s too busy trying to shelter the child and woman in his household from Scott, the control freak who lives with them.
The truth is more dangerous than Callie imagines. Scott’s control is powerfully real. And Dev’s need to protect the vulnerable is as strong as Callie’s own. Their desire is as inevitable as it is frightening, for only by looking deep within each other will they find the strength to free them all from an unspeakable evil.
Warning: This title contains explicit sex.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Puma:
Instead of replying, or even responding to her statement, his gaze dropped to her mouth. His hand slid over her shoulder, across to her neck; fingers forked up into her hair and made a fist to anchor her head so she couldn’t move. His mouth was a mere breath from hers.
“I’m going to kiss you, Callie.” He watched for her reaction and she didn’t know if she was supposed to give a verbal yes, or not. He must have seen something to encourage him. She thought he would kiss like before: sudden, deep, all his for the taking.
His lips brushed hers and before she could protest his leaving, he returned, caught her lower lip between his gentle teeth, scraped it lightly. Like the end of this morning’s kiss, but this was a beginning. A noise rose from her throat, in question, in desire, and with the fist that held her hair in his grip, he angled her head.
“God,” he said, a guttural sound, before his mouth covered hers, forcing her mouth open, stroking her tongue with his. He tasted of mint and chocolate and Dev; and she tried to welcome him though all she could do was accept as he devoured her. She’d been kissed before and hadn’t much liked it, hadn’t liked the invasion. Dev was different, demanding, yes, but focused on her. His large hand splayed across her back, between her shoulder blades, and pushed her flush against him so they had full-body contact. The flood of sensation, from his talented mouth—she had never felt so thoroughly kissed, his tongue demanding hers to dance, then withdrawing to explore her lips before delving in again—to the warmth of his body pressed against hers.
She actually went weak in the knees.
As she sank against him, he cupped the back of her head, holding her in that kiss, while the other arm wrapped around her waist, anchoring her to him. He slid his hand under her T-shirt and clasped her ribs, his palm and fingers warm against her skin.
His tongue released hers, and he retreated to nibble her lips. He kissed across her jawline and descended to her neck where he sucked at the sensitive skin there. Her throat vibrated, half-groan, half-purr, all pleasure. As he kissed across her collarbone, he said, “Callie, Callie. I want us to make love.”
He pulled back sharply then, as if to give himself a shake, and she reached for him, hands on his shoulders, scared he would go away. She couldn’t stand it, couldn’t take being released by him now.
He eyed her while he raised his hands to rest upon hers. For a terrible moment, she feared he was going to remove her hold on him, return to that “don’t touch” manner he sometimes projected. Instead, he caressed the backs of her hands, feather-soft strokes of his fingertips over her knuckles, between her knuckles and, most sensitively, between her fingers. She trembled in reaction, amazed that her hands could react to his touch so. A warmth gathered in her belly.
He did lift her hands off, but linked fingers with his and brought their arms down together, pulling her up against him again. Perhaps he too craved touch despite his… She bit her lip.
“What, Callie?”
“Earlier you said you weren’t interested in sex.”
He stiffened and she closed her eyes, wishing the thought hadn’t flitted through her mind, wishing she could have lied or at least fobbed him off with a “nothing”, though it was important to her that she be honest with Dev.
She rested her face against the crook of his neck and willed him not to push her away after her reminder. When she kissed him, he shuddered. They were soft, almost chaste kisses, not like his that had ravaged her neck.
He brought her arms behind her, clasped both wrists in one large hand, while with his other, he pressed a palm against the small of her back. Her belly felt him hard against her. Aroused.
That made her smile into his neck.
“Look at me,” he demanded, so she tilted her head back to meet his gaze. “You like that, that you’ve made me hard, that you’ve made me want you?”
“Yes.” She struggled a little, which resulted in her writhing against him, but he didn’t release her arms. Lifting his free hand to her face, he held her gaze to his, palm on her cheek. With the pad of his thumb, he traced the bone just under her eye, traced her cheekbone, then ran that thumb over her lips.
“You’re beautiful.”
It made her breathe faster, these words, these intense caresses, this attention. He trailed fingers down her neck to the swell of her breast. He was watching her very carefully as he lightly palmed her breast and her sensitive nipple began to ache.
“Dev?” She wasn’t su
re what she was asking.
“Hmmm?” His mouth dipped to her neck, teeth scraping the soft skin, then soothing it with a kiss. And again. His hand slipped under the hem of her T-shirt, and rose to catch her nipple between thumb and finger, rolling the nub. “Do you like that?” he murmured as he kissed her throat.
She arched against him and he swallowed her “yes”, his mouth taking hers in a punishing kiss.
Her knees gave out this time, but he caught her, finally releasing her arms, though not her mouth, as he lifted her and she wrapped herself around him. He brought her to the bed.
She tried to contain her disappointment as he set her down on the mattress. He yanked off her shirt, then his, her shorts then his, all in short order. It had been a revelation, this kind of foreplay, but now he was ready to fuck.
He crawled over her and for a moment she thought he was going to move up so he’d fuck her mouth, but he reached back and pulled her up so they were face to face again, her under him. He’d wanted to make love, she remembered, and that reassured her.
“You make me feel, Callie.” The words seemed almost to be dragged from him and she touched his face, roughened because he hadn’t shaved.
“I think you’re beautiful too, Dev.” She wanted to offer him something of her feelings, though that barely described her real emotions. Tentatively she ran a hand through his short hair, which was surprisingly soft to touch.
“Are you scared to touch me, Callie?”
“No.” The question caught her off guard, and it must have shown.
“You prefer that I touch you?” He skimmed a hand down her side and across her stomach. Her underside. It made her feel vulnerable and he seemed to notice, because he crossed his palm back and forth across her soft belly until she relaxed into the touch. “Tell me what you like,” he urged.
She didn’t know. He traced some ribs, but he didn’t release her gaze so she said, “I like you.”
He smiled then, so pleased, the smile wider than she’d observed before, like she was seeing a new Dev.
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