Dante linked his arm around her. “Since our help is clearly not needed here, I can think of better ways to spend the evening than in the hospital.”
Xandra looked up at him. How had be become the center of her life in so short a time, she wondered, then decided it didn’t matter. It only mattered that he was in her life to stay.
“Okay Officer, your choice of entertainment.”
About the Author
Stephanie BedwellGrime has had an interest in all things paranormal since her parents moved to a house beside a graveyard when she was twelve. Although she never did see a ghost while she lived there, it got her thinking about things that go bump in the night.
To learn more about Stephanie BedwellGrime, please visit www.feralmartian.com. Send an email to Stephanie at [email protected].
Naked. Wet. Pointing a gun at your dream guy. What a way to start the day…
Romancing the Stones
© 2008 Catherine Berlin
Archaeologist Charlotte “Charlie” Blair arrives home from a dig in Peru to find a dead body in her house—and herself suspected of murder. Sorting out the truth, that a serial killer has been using her place to stash his kills, proves easier than shaking off the detective who’s determined to protect her.
Detective Rob Vaiden’s first sight of Charlie is naked, wet, and pointing a Glock at his chest. Oh yeah, this is going to be a hell of a case. Something about the bombshell has attracted the attention of Orion, a killer Vaiden’s been pursuing since his days as a rookie cop. To catch Orion, he needs to be near Charlie. Trouble is, while she’s easy on the eyes, the maddeningly independent woman is determined she doesn’t need his help.
Vaiden gets on Charlie’s last nerve, but she’s got her own problems. The golden rod of Manco Copac, the greatest find in her career, has disappeared. In place of the gold phallus she finds a bag of mythical Ica stones. Stones for which Orion is willing to kill.
Charlie…the stones…Orion. What connects this deadly triangle? Vaiden and Charlie race to figure it out—before Orion chooses his next target.
Warning: This novel depicts a kickass heroine who enjoys steamy sex with a hunky detective, when not otherwise engaged in being chased, kidnapped, and mugged for a solid gold penis.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Romancing the Stones:
Detective Vaiden stared at the shattered edges of the weathered oak door on the Blair residence. It hung sideways with the top hinge completely disconnected from the jamb. Split wood fanned out along the lock like plumes. The boards covering the windows kept the inside of the house dim even though it was late morning. Not a sound floated outside on the cool air to give him a clue about the condition of the home’s occupant, Charlie Blair.
Rob Vaiden drew his SIG Sauer, holding it to his chest just below his jaw. He exchanged a wary glance with his partner, Jarod Ronan. They had wanted to be in and out of here as fast as possible. The investigation was dragging out. Too many false leads. But by the looks of the door, things had changed. So much for asking the homeowner a few questions.
With a nod directed more to himself than to his partner, Vaiden nudged the door inward, then shoved hard with his shoulder. He held his position and motioned Jarod inside. Jarod entered just ahead of him and crossed the room to check for intruders.
A huge black creature streaked out of the shadows near the staircase, rumbled past Vaiden, and escaped to the front yard. Vaiden blew air out quietly, calming his breathing. Just a dog.
He stared at the disarray. A small mountain of papers and books littered the center of the room. The drawers of the file cabinet hung open at varying degrees. The desk nearby had been rummaged to the point of destruction.
Jarod stepped into Vaiden’s line of vision and shook his blond head. No one on the ground floor then.
Vaiden moved toward the stairs. “Call it in. I’ll check the second floor.”
As his foot landed on the first step, he heard the sound of running water. A thief who showers in the victim’s home, he mused. That was a new one. He’d be surprised if anyone could hear him above the roaring water, but still, as he eased upward, he kept toward the wall-edge of the stairs to avoid telltale squeaks.
The bathroom door stood slightly ajar. A sliver of bright light marked the hallway floor. Vaiden swallowed. Please let this be a simple robbery, rather than more of Orion’s handiwork. He didn’t want to find another dismembered body.
Ever.
“Mr. Blair? Police officer. Are you all right?” Vaiden pushed open the door and stepped inside with his gun held out shoulder height. Ugly orange and brown tile, floor to ceiling. He could’ve fit two normal-sized bathrooms into this one.
“Mr. Blair?” He moved to the shower, closed his eyes for only a second, and whipped back the plastic curtain.
An empty bath, with the water running full blast. The musky scent of strawberries, soap, and steam. But no sign of an occupant. It didn’t make sense—until he heard the door close.
He made a note to check behind the door next time.
“Throw the gun into the tub and put your hands up.”
Vaiden scrunched his brows together. A woman? That explained the strawberry scent, anyway. He hesitated, then placed his weapon carefully into the shallow end of the tub, switching off the water with his free hand. He wasn’t worried. Hell, Jarod was right downstairs if he needed him. Given the right distraction, Vaiden knew he could take her down, with or without the weapon.
He straightened, turned his head, and froze.
She was naked. And wet. And pointing a Glock at his chest.
“There must be some mistake,” he said, wondering why his voice had gone thin. “I’m—”
“I don’t give a rat’s foot who you are. And turn around!” Her cheeks were bright red, and he couldn’t help but notice that the flush extended down her graceful neck and across her breasts.
“Now!” Her eyes flashed.
He couldn’t tell if she was embarrassed or angry. But he’d take a perp like this any day. He followed her orders and looked away smiling. He might not be able to see her, but her naked image was burned onto a screen inside his head. Average height, medium length brown hair, and curvy. Very curvy. Hell, it might be worth taking a slug just to have another look.
“Ma’am, I’m with the police department. We came here to speak to Mr. Blair, and discovered the front door had been forced open.”
“A likely story. Now move around toward that wall.”
He shrugged. Jarod had to have heard her shouting. He’d burst in any moment and tackle her. “Maybe you should move away from the door.” He peeked at her over his shoulder. She’d slipped into a huge terrycloth robe and moved toward the window.
“Can I at least show you my ID?”
She frowned, staring at his shoes, but when he inched his upper body forward, she jerked her eyes back to his face.
“I just got here twenty minutes ago. My door was in perfect condition. You’re full of it.”
“Vaiden? What’s going on in there?”
The young woman’s attention wavered for a fraction of a second. Vaiden lunged toward her, in a single motion chopping her wrists with one hand and squeezing them together. The Glock clattered to the tile floor.
Jarod swept inside, recovered her gun, and grabbed Vaiden’s SIG Sauer from the shower. He looked toward Vaiden, one eyebrow raised as he dried the weapon with a towel.
Vaiden pulled her arms behind her back and cuffed her. “Good timing, partner.”
She went from stunned softness to spitfire in three seconds flat. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Vaiden pushed her toward the hallway, careful not to tread on the hem of the terry robe that dragged behind her.
They descended the staircase, Jarod walking in front of her. “You broke in here, wrecked the place, and threatened an officer of the law with a gun. You’re under arrest, lady.”
Vaiden frowned at the newly arrived uniforms milling around in his crime scene. From this
side of the room he could see for the first time the coat rack that had been hidden behind the door. On it hung a well-worn black leather jacket—a woman’s jacket. And a backpack-style purse.
He stopped the woman on the landing, an uneasy feeling creeping over him. “Ma’am, what’s your name?”
Paler now that she had a room full of people staring at her, but still just as angry, she lifted one eyebrow and licked her top lip. “Charlie Blair.”
Being an aspiring witch is daunting business…
Asmodeus
© 2009 Dawn McClure
A Fallen Angels book.
When Brianna Claxton accidentally summons a demon, she is forced to face her mistake head-on. That becomes problematic when her mistake comes in the form of a hot, ancient demon named Asmodeus who refuses to go back to the hell from which she summoned him.
Thoughts of revenge have kept him sane…
Asmodeus is leader of the Rebel Watchers, angels who fell from grace out of lust for human women. He had been subjected to the Abyss, tortured in a virtual Hell in Heaven, until the careless mistake of a human witch released him from the fires. Now faced with temptations of the flesh by the sexy witch who summoned him, he tries convincing himself that embarking on a relationship with Brianna would be a mistake of biblical proportions.
Two lives hang in the balance…
Just when things start heating up, four Death Angels give her a mission: Use her powers to kill him…or face the Abyss herself. Gaining his trust is the key—except the closer she gets, the more he reveals the man he is, not the demon she thought him to be.
Warning: This title contains graphic language, graphic sex, and demons who give a whole new meaning to the old adage sinfully hot.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Asmodeus:
Brianna knew the second Asmodeus was truly asleep. His mouth had gone slack and a soft snore filled the car.
She needed to get away from him, now. Far away. The longer she waited to distance herself, the harder it would become. The consequences of summoning a demon from the Abyss were one thing, but she was sure if she summoned Michael, and Asmodeus had the strength to kill him, they might not overlook her part.
Besides, the bastard had stolen her magical knife.
Kelly had given her that knife. Brianna hadn’t lied when she had told Asmodeus a man had pawned the knife. Someone had pawned the knife—in Kelly’s shop. Kelly had told her the knife had tremendous power emanating from it. Powers that could help in casting spells. Being a practicing witch who needed all the help she could get, the knife meant everything to her.
She’d been thinking of a plan to escape him while he had teetered on the verge of sleep, but nothing had come to her. It was nearing one o’clock in the morning and the streets were deserted in her small neighborhood.
As she pulled to a stop at a red light she eyed the dark streets with longing. How easy would it be to slip out of the car right here and now? She could go home, find a spell to send him back, and since she had the directions to his friend’s house she could locate him later. Better yet, she could go to Kelly’s. He wouldn’t look for her there—and he would look for her.
No. She couldn’t drag Kelly into this. She’d have to do this on her own.
The sight of him asleep, vulnerable in every way, made him look like any other man. Any other man who also happened to be the sexiest, most delicious man she’d ever seen. Her senses were telling her he was never truly vulnerable. If she attacked him right now, with all her strength and a weapon of her choice, he would still come out on top.
Which had everything to do with her flight response. She had to get the hell away from him or she was going straight to Hell with him, and that thought wasn’t particularly pleasing.
Allowing herself no more time to think, she slowly pulled to the curb and put the car in park. She carefully slipped the dagger from his limp hand, stuck it in her bra, opened the door and took off.
The red light turned to green, reflecting its light off the wet pavement as she ran to the Circle K parking lot across the street, jogged toward the back of the store and kept going. When she came to a six-foot-tall fence she whistled to see if the owners had a dog. When none came slobbering up to the fence she pulled herself up and over.
Fence after fence came into view, and she snaked over each one. After a while her hands began to burn from the wood fences. Her legs had several scrapes on them, but the security the backyards gave her made her keep going.
Her legs and back hurt from her exertions. Feeling confident he couldn’t drive and wasn’t going to come running after her, she took a small reprieve and walked down a sidewalk. She had to take a break and catch her breath. Her lungs were burning from her exertion. A runner she was not.
Her cell started to ring and she quickly fished it out of her pocket. The ID let her know it was Kelly.
She stopped to adjust the knife in her bra and answered the cell. The leather sheath was sticking out of her shirt. “Hey, I am so glad you called. I need a huge favor. Do you have a protection spell I can put over my whole house to ward off demon entry?”
She had to get home as fast as possible, ward her house and then find a spell to send him back. The spell book that summoned him should contain something to send him back. All she had to do was get to it in one piece.
“Hold on, let me look. Actually, I think I do. Are you all right? I tried calling you back earlier. What the hell happened?”
Brianna let out a pent-up breath. The darkness that surrounded her, lit with the occasional front porch light, felt like a physical weight. Every sound had her twitching, every shadow had her looking over her shoulder. She started walking again. “I’m all right for now. It’s just a lot of crap happened, and all of it is my fault. Listen, I’ll be home in a few minutes, and I’m sure that demonic bastard—”
A car turned down the street, and she squinted as the bright headlights hit her in the face. She thought about flagging the car down, but decided against it. If Asmodeus did come after her she didn’t want to involve anyone.
She kept walking until the car passed under a street lamp, then she stumbled to a stop.
Damned if it wasn’t Asmodeus driving her car.
“Fuck.” She lowered the phone from her ear and took off in a dead sprint, her heart slamming against her rib cage. She ran through a nicely manicured front lawn and tore across a makeshift garden, petals flying in every direction.
Tripping over a garden hose that hadn’t been put away sent her tumbling into a tomato plant.
She managed to regain her balance, terrified to look behind her and find Asmodeus hot on her heels.
How the hell did you run from a demon?
She didn’t have the answer to that, and she sure as hell didn’t have the time to contemplate it. She practically vaulted over the first fence she came to, not bothering to whistle, knowing good and well she’d rather face a slobbering rottweiler than a demon.
She bolted through the backyard and flew over another fence. A sharp pain shot through her thigh. She fell the five feet to the ground on the other side of the fence. It took her too long to regain her breath, and every second that went by she imagined Asmodeus flying over the fence to apprehend her.
She tried to get up and winced as a fresh wave of pain raked her body. She glanced down to where the pain was coming from.
“Sonofabitch.” She’d scraped the whole left side of her leg on the fence.
She attempted to survey the damage before getting back to her feet. She couldn’t see very well in the dark, so she gave up on her leg and pushed herself up. Through the sting of the cuts she started jogging again, her teeth clenched against the pain.
Only one house away from the next street, and she tasted sweet freedom. She was nearly home. All she had to do was get to her house and slap up a protection spell to keep him out.
Had he stayed in the car? If he had, then most likely he would be waiting for her on that street. If not, wouldn’t he hav
e caught her by now?
She skidded to a stop and decided to go in the opposite direction. She doubted he would think of that. Unfortunately she would be running away from where she wanted to be, but she had no choice. The change in direction might throw him off. She had no idea if he could locate her with his powers or not.
When she made it over another fence she had her answer.
Asmodeus stood in the middle of the goddamned yard looking smug and clearly in better shape than she was currently in.
Out of breath and unmistakably defeated, she put her hands on her thighs, careful not to hurt her injured leg, and bent over in attempt to catch her breath. Nearing late August the air was still considerably warm, and a fine sheen of sweat covered her body.
So much for her grand escape.
“Not a bad first try.” He walked over to her and snatched the dagger out of her shirt.
She jumped when his hand lightly brushed her breast. He didn’t yell at her or physically harm her, and for some odd reason she had known he wouldn’t. He merely took her by the arm and led her through the gate and to her car that sat in the middle of the road.
She felt quite calm considering the circumstances. “Didn’t know…you could drive,” she said between breaths.
“I have too much invested in your current task to let you go. I’m depending on your powers. Please keep that in mind the next time you attempt to leave. I will not be so lenient in the future.”
He’s a centuries-old vampire. She’s a single mother. Evil brings them together, but will their love be enough to keep them alive?
Night Song
© 2007 Sharon Cullen
He doesn’t have time for a fling, doesn’t know anything about kids, and certainly doesn’t do domestication.
Aiden Reed is a member of the elite Rogue Hunters, a band of vampires who hunt down and eliminate those of their kind who cross the line and kill indiscriminately. It’s his job to keep the innocents safe and he’s proud of what he does. Yet once he sees his sexy next door neighbor, he can’t keep his mind, or his hands, off her.
She’s been overworked, overstressed and overwhelmed since her husband left her for another woman.
Feral Passion Page 26