Shifting Winds
Page 8
I love you, Elysia. I have from the first moment I saw you.
I love you too, Declan. The winds have shifted. I have my dragon now, and you’re all I will ever need.
About the Author
Lex has been writing stories and poems ever since she could hold a pencil. A few years ago, she got caught up writing in an online paranormal serial story. The story was very intense and a challenge to her writing skills. As she began to write more and more, fans of the story and her blog readers began to encourage her to submit her writing. Lex lives in Orange County, California with her long haired musician husband and her teen aged daughter. Lex loves loud music, reading hot stories, reading her friends’ blogs and hanging out with them, enjoys building her own computers, and has a propensity for having very weird vivid dreams about Nikki Sixx.
Author Website –http://www.lexvalentine.com
Series Website: http://www.talesofthedarkworld.com
Author Newsletter - http://groups.yahoo.com/group/talesofthedarkworld
Author Blog – http://www.sunlightsucks.com
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Enjoy a glimpse from Tales from the Darkworld 2: Hot Water
By Lex Valentine
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She needed a drink before she contemplated the choice of partners offered by the club’s patrons. As she elbowed herself a space at the end, her nose twitched. The scent of vanilla filled her senses, and her dragon suddenly itched to break free. Holy shit. Who the hell would walk into a social meat market smelling so innocent?
The smell came from her right. She wriggled in the tight quarters, trying to turn. Based on the sweet scent, she expected to see a woman. Instead, she found a tall man with midnight blue eyes smiling down at her.
“You just go right on trying to move,” he quipped. “I’m enjoying it tremendously.”
Eden’s eyes narrowed. Every time she moved, her body rubbed up against his. Her hip dug into his groin and she could feel a slight telltale swelling there. Despite the fact that the man smelled all girly like a sugar cookie, the bulge held promise. She sniffed again. Sweet smelling. Smiling easily. No display of arrogance. A mellow and amused expression, eyes dancing with humor. Beta. He had to be. Her dragon stretched inside her, urging her to take him.
“Oh, really?” She raised one brow and wriggled against him again. The size of the ridge against her hip increased. Oh, yeah. He just might work out after all, she thought as she realized his more than adequate proportions weren’t fully erect yet.
He nodded, his dark blue eyes gleaming as they raked over her from the top of her raven head to the tips of her designer boots. “Of course, we’d both enjoy it a lot more naked in my bed,” he told her candidly.
Eden’s pupils elongated as Blue Eyes roused her dragon. The scent of vanilla intensified.
“You don’t believe in wasting time, I see.” She turned, deliberately rubbing against him, breast to chest. In her boots, she almost matched his height.
He quirked a dark blond brow at her. “And you do? You can’t tell me that the dragon in you isn’t clawing to get at my cock.”
Eden began to smile. He might not be a dragon, but he obviously knew them intimately. Good. One less thing she’d have to train him on. “You’re a bold young thing, aren’t you?”
He laughed. “I’m not as young as you think.” His smile revealed vampire fangs.
Ghost Redeemed
By Mary Winter
Available Now from Pink Petal Books
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Shay’s stomach flip-flopped. Looking at Kyle standing just outside her bathroom door, a boyish grin on his face, made her wonder what would happen if she invited him to join her. She’d planned on taking a shower, figuring that would be the easiest way to wash the wound on her back. But with Kyle there, she wouldn’t need to go to such lengths. Then again, maybe she would anyway.
She stepped back and opened the door, suddenly nervous about her plan. “I guess you’re right,” she said, trying not to sound too eager. “I will need some help.” Turning from him, she pulled her shirt over her head. She swore she heard Kyle’s swiftly indrawn breath. She glanced into the mirror and saw the angry red gash start just below her shoulder blade to disappear beneath her bra clasp. She reached around her and unfastened the hooks. Her peach lace bra hung loosely on her shoulders, and she noticed Kyle trying hard not to look at her breasts in the mirror.
She slipped the lingerie from her shoulders. “The peroxide and some antibiotic ointment are in the medicine cabinet.”
Kyle opened the mirrored panel. She watched, noticing the light glow surrounding his skin. If it weren’t for that, he’d look completely normal standing in her bathroom, reaching for the brown plastic bottle of peroxide. He grabbed several cotton balls and turned his attention to her back. His movements seemed slow, as if he had to think about each action.
“This is going to sting a little. There’s not much I can do about that.” He unscrewed the lid of the peroxide bottle and doused a cotton ball. “Are you ready?”
“I’ll be fine,” she said. His fingers brushed her skin, and tiny shivers darted from the touch. Her nipples pebbled, and she resisted the urge to cover her breasts with her hands. A soft fizzing sound filled the bathroom, and then the wound stung. Shay sucked in a quick breath and gritted her teeth.
“I’m sorry.” Kyle continued to dab the cotton ball on the wound.
“It’s okay,” Shay ground out. She reached in front of her and wrapped her fingers around the towel rod on her shower door. Clenching her fingers around it, she focused on breathing in and out to distance herself from the sting of disinfectant on her wound.
His motions slowed, and she heard the soft clunk of the bottle on the counter. The trash bag rustled as he tossed the cotton ball into it. The room closed in. She became aware of Kyle standing behind her, his body just inches from her. The thudding of her heart sounded loud in her ears. She longed to turn around and see him, but didn’t, afraid of the desire she would see in his gaze. Keeping her eyes down, she waited.
He touched her. His fingers slid across her shoulder, a feather light touch against her skin. Tiny sparks danced at the contact. Telling herself he was a ghost did little good, as heavy warmth filled her limbs. His hand skimmed her side, barely touching the side of her breast. She wanted more. Him. His cock. Her lips parted.
“Kyle,” she breathed.
“Shay.” His other hand reached around to palm her breast, a light touch that soon had him standing against her. The ridge of his cock pressed against her buttocks.
Her knees went weak. She leaned against his strength, not wanting to get used to his warmth surrounding her. The fact he was a ghost mattered little. Some part of her mind rebelled, but she refused to listen. Right now, still aching from the fight and heart-sore from her best friend’s death, she wanted his warmth, his strength surrounding her.
She shifted her weight. Her ankle protested, and she quickly moved her weight to her good foot.
“Let me help you.” His hand slid down her back, to her hip. “Turn around and wrap your legs around me.”
Shay started to turn. “But you’re a gh—” Words died when she saw the naked hunger in his eyes. He wanted her, his gaze sweeping
over her bared breasts.
“Perfect,” he whispered, covering one with his hand. He brushed a thumb across a distended nipple, and Shay closed her eyes. His free hand slid over her back, down to her ass. Pulling her against him, he urged her to wrap her leg around his waist.
She complied. The first touch of his hard cock against her coaxed a low moan from her throat. She wrapped her arms around him and brought her other leg around his waist. He easily lifted her, carrying her out of the bathroom.
“Where’s your bedroom?” He glanced down the hall, before looking back into the living room.
The Purrfect Man
By Mary Winter
Available Now from Pink Petal Books
http://www.pinkpetalbooks.com/index.php/Bookstore/Mary-Winter/Paranormal-Romance/The-Purrfect-Man.html
“I’m sorry.”
The masculine words sounded truly remorseful, and it took Althea a moment to realize she was dreaming. “It’s okay,” she automatically replied, though she knew not who this man was or why he apologized to her. In fact, she couldn’t really see him. Instead, it seemed as if she still lay in bed, though the edges of the room seemed fuzzy. An effect of the sinus medication, she wondered, but she’d never had dreams like this before.
Gradually, her surroundings became visible. A man sat on the foot of her bed. Though he didn’t move, she sensed an inherent lithe grace in his form.
“Wha--?” she asked, coming out of a medicine-induced fog. “Who are you?”
Tawny hair crowned his head and feathered over his shoulders. His brilliant blue eyes held warmth. A straight nose divided his face, leading to the fullest, most sensuous pair of lips she’d ever seen on a man. He wore no shirt, and the view of his chest nearly took Althea’s breath away. Matching tawny hair dusted his pectorals, and then arrowed over a work-hardened set of abs and disappeared beneath the waistband of a gray pair of sweat pants. His feet were bare.
She blinked at the sweat pants. Until that modern piece of clothing, she expected him to be dressed in historical clothing. She didn’t know why. She saw only his body; he hadn’t even spoken yet. Still, something about his manner, the way he sat with his hands resting on his muscled thighs brought back images from a bygone era. She chalked it up to the timelessness of the dream state.
He moved closer, the efficiency in the way he inched toward her pillow reaffirming her belief that this was a man unlike any she’d met. After settling himself next to her hip, he trailed his fingers over her arm. The caress, so light, reminded her of the way she’d petted the cat on her porch.
“I’m Dante,” he said. Reaching out, he brushed his thumb against her lips. “So beautiful. So warm.” He bent over, replacing his thumb with his lips. Gently he kissed her, drawing her deeper into the dream, into him. His lips coaxed, nibbled, ate as daintily as a cat enjoying a tasty morsel. With his tongue, he traced her lower lip.
Althea parted her lips to allow him entrance. Dante’s answering moan sent warm shivers darting through her body. She wrapped her arm around him, tangling her fingers in his silky soft hair. His hard body pressed against hers, and arousal drew her nipples into tight beads. She wanted to be devoured by him, to feel his lips on every inch of her flesh. Allergies forgotten, she clung to him and slid her other hand down over his muscled back to his buttocks. This was a dream, after all.
And thank goodness it was a dream. Her body hungered for the touch of flesh against flesh. Reaching for him, curling her fingers around his biceps, something awakened deep inside. She’d ignored the months of celibacy, hadn’t really thought about them, but now, the need to make up for lost time drove her. She moaned as he deepened the kiss. Passion flared in her blood. She wanted him—her dream man. Now.
A quick tug pulled her shirt free of her jeans. His hand splayed across her abdomen. His touch branded her. He laid her back on the bed, tugging at her T-shirt. She released him long enough for him to pull it over her head. He unfastened her bra and slid it off her shoulders.
Althea reached for him once more. She wrapped her fingers around his hard biceps and pulled him to her.
Dante lowered his head and nibbled along her collarbone. He laved each kiss, each love bite, with a long sweep of his tongue that had her shuddering to her toes. The crisp whorls of his chest hair tickled her nipples and stomach.
She arched beneath him, her breasts begging for his touch. “Please,” she whispered, unaware she voiced her plea.
Keeper
By Shaunta Grimes
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Jude Felini carefully removed all the thorns from a single, perfect yellow rose before biting the long stem. He surveyed the tree-lined street, the rows of neat four-plex apartments, making sure he was alone before his body shimmered and contracted into that of a large orange tomcat.
Clutching the rose between his teeth, he hopped from the ground onto an iron balcony railing, walked across it, jumped to a tree limb, and then up to a second story balcony. Potted plants and flowers turned the small space into a tiny rain forest. Jude loved being here and he often snuck up without the balcony’s avian owner knowing.
The sexy little bird in question had once again jumped headlong into a boatload of trouble. From his position under her window, Jude watched Avery Dove wrap her arms around her slender waist and gaze at the sky. Her up-tilted heart-shaped face was unguarded, and breathtaking in its beauty. She opened the window and Jude leapt onto the sill.
Avery stumbled backward several steps away from the window, upsetting framed pictures off the table behind her, and then let loose with a string of swear words all the more colorful for coming from such a delicate woman.
Laughter rang in his head. He drew altogether too much enjoyment from yanking her chain. If he could get that personality quirk under control, maybe he’d be in Avery’s bed instead of standing outside her window. He took on his human form again as he jumped from the sill to the floor. As he transformed, the rose was tossed in the air. It spun in a slow arc before it landed in his hand. He presented it to her with a formal bow.
She stood with her hands fisted on her hips, her cheeks flushed. Though she struggled to keep her gaze resolutely on his face, he caught the sweep she made of his nude body. “I swear to God, one of these days I’m going to put a collar around your neck and take you in to be neutered, Jude Felini.”
Jude laughed out loud. “You don’t want me neutered, Sweetheart. Trust me.”
“Maybe neutered you wouldn’t be such a pain in my ass.” She took the flower. “Where the hell are your clothes?”
Jude raised an eyebrow and tilted his head toward the window with the tree outside, under which rested his jeans and t-shirt. “Being a pain in your ass sounds fun. Maybe we should give it a try.”
“I hope you aren’t here just to gloat, because I’m really not in the mood.” Avery stuck her nose in the flower, but Jude saw the blush rising up from her elegant neck. No woman had ever done angry as beautifully as she did. “Go get dressed.”
He leaned against her clean, white wall. Everything in her apartment was airy and light, perfectly suited for a bird. “Don’t you think it’ll cause a sensation if I walk down the front stairs nude?”
“So go back down the balcony. You need clothes.”
“Or you could take some of yours off.” He let his eyes slide down her body. Her hands were fisted on her hips and she was teetering on the edge of more angry than sexy. “And I’m not here to gloat. I’m here to lend support.”
Avery looked down her nose at him over the rose. “Sure you are. Stay there.”
She put the flower in water and then stalked off. Maybe needing some air, because it wasn’t like her to give into this particular argument so easily. She’d spent an entire evening pretending that he wasn’t naked before, just to keep from going down and collecting the clothing that he shed during his transformation.
Once he w
as dressed, Jude sat on Avery’s couch and closed his mouth before sexy-angry turned to really-angry. Avery sat next to him. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She was beautiful, fine boned and delicate in a way that made him want to take her in his arms to hold and protect her. But also fiery, she was a small package of dynamite with no fear, no hesitation when she went after something she wanted.
That rebellious streak was how she got into trouble this time.
King of Cats
By Jessica Quinn
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Rita was still on the phone when she marched out to the front desk and deposited the vase onto her desk with a thud. “Get rid of these ASAP, will you?” Mel asked. “I don’t care if you take them to the nearest cemetery or throw them in the dumpster, but I don’t want to see them when I come back out here.” Rita nodded and Mel turned and marched back into her office to retrieve their latest guest for his bath.
The bronze-furred cat was nowhere to be seen when she stepped back into her office, and she frowned. Hiding under the couch, maybe? Most folks would be surprised at how many cats learn to recognize the word ‘bath’. She took a few steps forward, shutting the office door behind her without a glance back so he couldn’t get out that way, and knelt down on the floor to peer under the sofa.
“You don’t really want to let the old man neuter me, do you, sweetheart?” came the purring voice from behind her. A tan, lithely-muscled arm wrapped itself around her waist even as she half-turned, ready to scream.
The eyes she found herself staring up into were copper-gold, brighter than any she’d seen outside of contact lenses. Long, straight, golden-bronze hair spilled over impossibly wide shoulders, gone the color of butterscotch from the summer sun. The broad, hairless chest was equally muscular and tapered downward to a trim, narrow waist, lean hips and a very nice— Oh. My. God. He’s completely naked.