His Most Wanted Release Blast @SJonesRomance @TastyBookTours @samhainpub

His Most Wanted

by Sandra Jones

The River Rogues, Book 2

Enter to Win a
$15.00 eGift Card to Choice Book Seller
Releasing Nov 17th, 2015




It’ll take more than a badge to get her to confess her secrets.

Kit Wainwright only meant to stop the thief making off with his beloved uncle’s ashes. He wants to hang up his gun, become a law-abiding citizen and leave his violent past behind. But the mayor takes notice of his sharpshooting skills, slaps a badge on his chest and puts him in charge of cleaning up this lawless town. Starting with tracking down the notorious Velvet Grace.

Bordello owner Cora Reilly never meant to become a crusader. But after shooting the last corrupt sheriff in self-defense, she’s spent the last few months turning her hastily donned disguise into a local legend to defend the girls in her town from riff-raff.

There’s no way Cora can trust the handsome new sheriff. Yet Kit’s kisses leave her wanting to open her arms—and her bedroom—to soothe his grief. Even if it brings him too close to the truth that could send her to the gallows.

Warning: Contains a reluctant sheriff with a keen eye for a moving target, and a take-no-crap madam who isn’t about to let him get close. Okay, maybe just a little bit closer. Just this once…



a Rafflecopter giveaway


Sandra Jones is a multi-published author of historical romances. A former bookseller and librarian, she’s always had her nose in a book. 

When not researching or writing her next novel, she enjoys being with family, reading, cooking for her husband, and watching British TV. At home in the South, her house overlooks a river and a farm, where most days you can find her working to the sounds of wildlife and cattle.

Sandra loves to hear from her readers. Visit her website at www.SandraJonesRomance.com

Don’t Miss the first in the River Rogues Series

His Captive Princess Release Day Blitz


His Captive Princess
by Sandra Jones
Genre: Historical Romance

Publisher: Samhain Publishing

Release Date: April 28, 2015



Earned respect is sweet, but deserved revenge is even sweeter.

Warren de Tracy was assured the Welsh village of Dinefwr would be an easy conquest, as would the widow of its fallen prince. Wedding her will appease the locals and win the respect of his liege, the usurper King Stephen.

Instead, Warren is ambushed, taken prisoner by a hooded Welshwoman with skin that glows like moonlight. If he must die at her hands, at least his honorable death will silence the whispers of disloyalty hanging over his name.

Princess Eleri has never seen a knight as stoic—and as eager to die—as Warren. She’d love to oblige the bastard, but something in his ocean-blue eyes stays her hand. Plus, suspicion nags at her, for the arrows that wounded him and killed his men are Norman, not Welsh.

A ghostly prophecy portends danger that thrusts the enemies closer together, where hate explodes into passion that won’t allow Eleri to surrender Warren to her vengeful clan. But returning him to his king breaks more than it mends…and for Warren, retaliation will be sweet, indeed.



Copyright © 2015 Sandra Jones

All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publicationCantref Mawr, Deheubarth, Wales, Winter 1136 A.D.

Warren de Tracy had led battles on two different continents against formidable enemies of the Church and his Norman kings, and for his efforts he’d won spurs, a barony, more than a few scars and a complete lack of fear, which had served him well. Ironically, of all his venerable foes, a lowly dog killed him.

He watched the speckled greyhound resting on its dead master’s chest, growling low at him, the stranger in its territory. The mongrel had already betrayed his Welsh owner’s hiding spot in the dense thicket by protectively snarling at one of Warren’s mounted knights. Then his hotheaded young soldier had wheeled back for the rebel enemy without caution, earning him a fatal arrow to the heart.

Making perhaps the worst tactical error of his life, Warren had followed to check on his fallen man. The dog, far from done, howled over its master’s fate, thus calling attention to Warren’s presence, too. That was when an arrow from God-only-knew-where in the surrounding woods took him by surprise, its force unseating him. Quick and efficient, these archers were so stealthy he’d never seen their faces.

Now left to travel afoot with a useless sword arm, Warren collapsed at the base of an ancient yew a few yards away from the two bodies. He stripped off his gloves and snapped the arrow’s wooden shaft in half, leaving the barb lodged in his muscle. Ice-hot pain exploded through his chest.

Sang Dieu!” He cradled his throbbing arm and waited, head swimming and shoulder bleeding, as the voices from the skirmish went silent.

All five of his men were dead. He felt it in his bones. Soon he would join them, but not nearly soon enough.

Ever since King Henry had died earlier that year, the Welsh princes had led revolts trying to take back lands they had lost in the Norman invasion. King Stephen, the new usurper, had ordered Warren to claim the Welsh Deheubarth camp of Dinefwr for Warren’s own. All Warren had ever wanted was to gain the respect of his liege. King Stephen had also told Warren to take one of the Welsh princesses for a bride, which, along with promises of clemency and protection, would surely appease the locals. Furthermore, his liege had suggested, the widow of one of the recently fallen princes would be “receptive” to the offer.

How wrong the king had been.

If only Warren had known there would be a rebel spy waiting upon the shore when they landed. Now the entire conroi was dead as a result.

At least none of Warren’s brothers had been with him this time. He could die without more shame hanging over his head. His half-brother would live to look after their little sister. With Warren dying honorably in battle, there would be no more questions of his loyalty, no more whispers of treason.

The dead soldier’s quick end was a blessing compared to Warren’s wound. The arrow in his shoulder wouldn’t budge, proving it was a ruthless Norman barb, probably stolen from one of Warren’s men, and the broken shaft offered no purchase with which to maneuver it. Each time he touched the splintered wood, a burst of fire spread through his chest. His heavy sword was meant for hacking bone, not useful for quickening his death, but perhaps he could knock himself unconscious while he waited for the arms of everlasting rest.

He leaned against the tree and battered the back of his skull, but the beating only made his head ache and his vision blur. The agony of his shoulder remained.

He closed his eyes before the reeling made him vomit.

Despite the absence of wind, the nearby trees rustled softly. Warren cracked an eye open. A hooded rebel stood near De Gouin’s body. As silently as the first, another dark-hooded figure dropped from the branches above. Dressed in deerskin chausses and heavy tunics, they studied the soldier’s corpse. Bon sang!Welsh rebels. Or Cymreig, as they called themselves. The smaller one nudged the dead knight’s arm with a booted foot. Bows resting casually on their backs, the pair hadn’t seemed to notice Warren.

His left hand tightened around the sword’s hilt. One good throw would fell one of the lightweight bastards, but he had no way of fending off the other.

As if sensing Warren’s intentions, the greyhound’s growl deepened, and it glanced uncertainly between Warren and the rebels. The archers were still too far away to hear, too absorbed in retrieving his soldier’s weapons, but the dog might change that. His barking would bring them around, turning their attention to Warren. He couldn’t let that happen. He was ready to die but not to be shamefully taken alive as a hostage for the local chieftain, where he would surely find unimaginable tortures.

He adjusted his grip on the sword in his left hand. His arm shook from the loss of blood.

The beast hunkered over his master’s body, putting more of its belly on top of the man’s chest. Caesar, Warren’s own trained mastiff, would do the same. Now staring into this animal’s brown eyes, he saw unwavering loyalty and trust, so like Caesar’s.

The greyhound licked the dead Welshman’s face, and the sight put a knot in Warren’s throat. He’d never harmed an animal before, nor would he this day.

Before the wary tension in his muscles could relax, the dog woofed in his direction.

Damned traitor!

The enemies swiveled around. Assessing the situation, they drew their swords.

In Warren’s foggy vision, the two swarmed toward him like sylvan elves, multiplying as yet more rebels fell from the tree, at least a half-dozen of his enemies.

The first pair stood over him with weapons extended, while the newcomers surrounded their own fallen warrior and his canine.

Gorthwr fud.” The one who’d kicked De Gouin spoke at him in a puzzle of confusing sounds, but the sneered tone was perfectly clear. More puzzling than the guttural language Warren had been trying to decipher since arriving on the Glamorgan shore a few days ago was the fact that the rebel’s voice was female, low and husky. The accented tones would be interesting, he reckoned, if they weren’t so full of hate.

He blinked hard to clear the cobwebs in his vision. A pale oval shape loomed before him, and soon he focused on a pair of dark golden eyes in a face with skin that seemed to glow as if lit by moonlight. She dropped her hood for a better look at him, revealing wild plaits of flaming red hair, which dangled around her perfect face.





Sandra is the author of historical romances, including the River Rogues series, set in frontier America. With more than 20 years working as a bookseller and then a librarian, she found her true calling in writing. Always looking for the next story to tell, she makes her home on a river in the Ozark Mountains. When not working on her next book, she enjoys doing genealogy research (she’s a descendant of a Norman knight), playing cook for her husband and being the servant to her old grumpy tomcat. She has two sons in college and loves sharing lengthy discussions about the books they read. Sandra also loves hearing from her readers.







His Moment to Steal Release

His Moment to Steal

By Cathryn Fox

In the Line of Duty, Book 4

His Moment To Steal

ISBN: 978-1619229198

Samhain Publishing


About the Book

Once a thief, always a thief…and he’s just walked away with her heart.

In the Line of Duty, Book 4

Ex-military security specialist Luke Phillips would like nothing more than to walk away from his latest job, especially when he realizes the upscale market owner is the daughter of the man responsible for his year spent in juvie. Except he promised the kids at the community center new and updated equipment. He has no choice but to keep to himself and try not to get mixed up with Emery Vincent. No matter how sweet and sexy she is.

One look at Luke starts Emery’s heart fluttering-along with other specific body parts. But she knows better than to act on those urges with a bad boy who looks at her like he’s been living off rations and she’s the market’s hot lunch special. But when he rescues her and bandages up her scuffed knee, the heat between them explodes. While a future between them is impossible, hot, sweaty sex is guaranteed-at least until the job is done. Unless Luke can let go of the past and risk it all for love.

Warning: This book contains a smoking-hot ex-convict from the wrong side of the tracks, and a silver-spoon lady who gets oh, so much more than she bargained for when she hires him for a job.

Purchase Links

Amazon ~~ Kobo ~~ B&N ~~ iBooks

summer holidays and dating concept - couple in the city


He started into traffic, making his way to Sky Bar, but decided to take the long way around. He drove by the market, wondering if Emery was still working, but when he saw her once again walking down the street, a shopping bag tucked under her arm, he cursed.

He followed her, determined to find out exactly what she was up to this time. Once again shadows came out of the woodwork, and while he wanted to get to the bottom of matters, he couldn’t stand back and do nothing when her safety was at risk.

He revved his bike and pulled up beside her.

She turned toward him, and her eyes went wide.

“Luke?” she said, sounding breathless.

“What are you doing?”

She clutched the brown paper bag tighter. “I could be asking you the same thing.”

“Okay, then I’m following you. Your turn.”

“Why are you following me?”

“Answer my question first.”

“I’m…” She looked into her bag. “I’m doing a delivery.”

He stared at her, reading her body language. “Try again.”

She lifted her chin slightly. “It’s true.” She looked behind her. “At least, I was doing a delivery until you scared them off.”

Luke searched the shadows. “Scared who off?”

“If you must know, I was delivering the day-old bread to a few people.” She shrugged, like it was nothing. “It gets thrown out anyway.”

His heart nearly stopped beating, because he knew it wasn’t nothing, and he knew exactly what was going on. “What people?”

“Just some men my father banned from the store a few years ago.”

“Go on.”

She stepped toward him and lowered her voice so that whoever lurked in the shadows couldn’t hear her. “They’re good people. They’re just hungry.”

He braced one hand on his knee, and said, “Put the bag down and get on.”

She gave a hard shake of her head. “Last night they missed out because—”

“Emery,” he said, cutting her off. He stole another glance around. “I’m guessing whoever I frightened away is still watching and will get the food when I leave, right?”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“So get on.”

When she hesitated, he reached out to her, grabbed her by her blouse and tugged her closer. As soon as she was close enough, he reached for his spare helmet and put it on her head. Even though he’d taught her how to use the buckle, he did it for her anyway. Once he finished he gestured to the bag.

“Now put it down. You’re coming with me.”

She set the bag down on the sidewalk, and he crooked his finger when she looked like she was going to hang around a moment longer.

“I’m not leaving you here alone.”

“I come here every night. I’m fine.”

“Yeah, well last night you weren’t so fine. You got hit by a car.”

“I was distracted.”

“And I’m not taking a chance that you’ll get distracted again. Besides, I don’t like you out here by yourself. If you want to give away day-old bread, can’t you make the exchange at the store, before dark?”

“If my father ever…” She stopped speaking and folded her arms. “Why are you doing this? Why are you following me?”

“Because you clearly need someone to watch out for you.”

Going on the defensive, she shot back, “I’ve been taking care of myself since I was a child. I’ve pretty much mastered it.”

“Then maybe it’s time you let someone else do it.”

He slipped his hand under the helmet clasp and urged her closer, until their helmets bumped. “I’m not leaving here without you.”

“Fine,” she said. “You can take me back to the store.”

“I’ll take you home.”

“I’m not going home.”

He stiffened and wondered if she had another date with that asshole Lane. Today he’d made her go out with him, and now he suddenly found himself ready to walk barefoot over a bed of nails to stop her. Fuck. Talk about a mood swing. Maybe he should check to see if he was menstruating, or better yet, head on over Sky Bar and get one of the guys to kick him in the ovaries.


About the Author


New York Time and USA Today Bestselling author Cathryn Fox is a multi published author in the romance genre under two pen names.  Cathryn is a wife, mom, sister, daughter, and friend. She loves dogs, sunny weather, anything chocolate (she never says no to a brownie) pizza and red wine. She has two teenagers who keep her busy with their never ending activities, and a husband who is convinced he can turn her into a mixed martial arts fan. Cathryn can never find balance in her life, is always trying to find time to go to the gym, can never keep up with emails, Facebook or Twitter and tries to write page-turning books that her readers will love.

A maritime native and former financial officer, Cathryn has lived all over Canada but has finally settled down in her childhood hometown with her family.

Connect with the Author

Newsletter Sign up

Website ~~ Blog ~~ Twitter ~~ Facebook ~~ Goodreads

Fading Light Book Tour

Fading Light

Shadow Born #2

by Angela Dennis



Published:  September 23rd, 2014

Publisher:  Samhain Publishing

Word Count:  72,000

Genre:  Urban Fantasy

Content Warning:  Sexual Material and Violence

Recommended Age:  18+




Everyone has a breaking point.

Her hundred-year penance lifted, Shadow Bearer Brenna Baudouin returns to the Earthly plane with her partner, Gray Warlow, to keep the peace between humans and supernatural creatures—and to prevent another apocalyptic war from happening.

The attraction between them is nearing a critical point, but their checkered history has left Brenna unable to trust either her heart or her instincts.

It’s chaotic business as usual until humans begin turning to statues of dust. There is no explanation, no sign of magical foul play or a biological toxin. The humans are convinced it’s the work of a deviant supernatural faction, twisting the knife in the already tense relationship between their species. Brenna and Gray agree—the deaths have a former comrade-turned-rogue stamped all over them.

In a race against time, they enlist the help of both friend and foe to save the human race and stop the impending civil war. Along the way, they are forced to come to terms with their past and decide, once and for all, whether they will come together or fall apart.

Warning: Contains a heroine who knows her weapons but not her own heart, an outbreak of supernatural proportions, copious bloodletting, and a race to save an endangered species—humans. All tied up in a tight bow of sexual tension.

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

 Fading-Light (3)


It is my pleasure to welcome Angela Dennis, author of Fading Light, to Room With Books.

Angela, what do you do when you are not writing?

You’ll usually find me at my day job or spending time with my husband and son.

Is there any particular author or book that influenced you in any way either growing up or as an adult?

Ann McCaffrey definitely influenced me in a BIG way. She was my introduction to epic fantasy. Once I got ahold of DRAGONFLIGHT, I was a goner.  Victoria Holt was also a major influence. THE PRIDE OF THE PEACOCK is still one of my favorite books. Her books introduced me to the romance genre, and I never looked back.

Can you tell us about your challenges in getting your first book published?

It took years of hard work and honing my craft to get to the point where I could write SHADOWS OF FATE.  Ironically, I didn’t write SHADOWS with the intention of trying to sell it. I wrote it as a way to help deal with my stress when my son was hospitalized. One of my best friends convinced me to submit it to Samhain Publishing, and the rest is history.

If you could have any superpower what would you choose?

I’d want to travel through time. There are so many events in the past I would love to see and experience.

What was your first job?

I was a coffee barista. My coffee addiction spiraled downhill from there. 🙂

What types of books do you write?

I write Urban Fantasy with strong romantic elements.

Who’s your main audience?

I like to think my books appeal to both Urban Fantasy fans as well as paranormal romance fans. They are definitely a good mix between the two.

Out of all of your characters, which is your favorite?

I love Brenna. She is such a survivor, and a great example of a strong woman who refuses to be a victim.

What does your writing schedule look like?

Erratic. In all seriousness, I make myself write every day, even if I don’t feel like it. I average about 2,000 words a day, but most days I write a lot more. It just depends on how crazy my life is at the time.

Do you use your OWN experiences?

No, not really. My experiences definitely color my writing, but I don’t consciously try to incorporate them.

Was it easy to pick the title for your book?

Not at all. For me, picking the title is one of the most difficult parts of the writing process. You should hear some of the things I’ve come up with, you’d be appalled. Thankfully, my husband acts as my filter. My titles are usually a joint effort.

If you could pick one profession, which would you choose if you were not an author?

An attorney. I have the degree, might as well use it. 🙂

What are you currently working on?

I am wrapping up the fourth book in the SHADOW BORN series.  The third book, Piercing the Darkness, will be out Spring 2015.


What is your favorite flavor of ice cream?  Ben and Jerry’s Chubby Hubby

Night owl, or early bird?  Definitely, night owl

Red, or white wine?  Both, but I prefer red.

Roller Coasters or Water Rides?  Roller Coasters, the scarier the better.

Swimming in the ocean or a pool?  Ocean

Walking or fitness club?  Fitness club, mainly because I’m competitive, so it motivates me to be around other people.

Any last words?

I’d like to thank everyone that has supported this series. It’s been incredible.  I’ve made some fantastic new friends along the way.

Thank you, Angela, for taking the time to chat and for allowing Room With Books to be part of your tour.


Fading-Light (3)

About the Author:

Angela-DennisAngela Dennis lives outside Cincinnati, Ohio with her husband, son and a sheltie with a hero complex. When she is not at her computer crafting stories, she can be found feeding her coffee addiction, playing peek-a-boo, or teaching her son about the great adventures found only in books.


Amazon Author Page | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads | Website | Blog


Fading-Light (3)

Giveaway Details:

There is a tour wide giveaway. Prizes include the following:

  • $25 Amazon GC & eBook copy of Fading Light (1 winner)

Giveaway is International.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Forsaken Super Book Blast


by Sarah Ballance



Cover_ForsakenHer past is back to haunt her—and this time, it’s got a gun.

When Gage Lawton finds his brother shot to death on his back porch, every shred of evidence points to one person: Gage’s ex-lover, Riley Beckett. The only gun in town that fires a bullet of that caliber belongs to her.

Certain the shooting is payback for his part in the loss of her parents, he abandons his promise to stay out of her life and confronts her, his rage backed up with a revolver. Yet when she steps through the door, all thoughts of revenge burn to ashes.

A year after Riley unwillingly walked away from Gage, she enters her home to find him sitting in the dark, gun pointed at her head. One look into those achingly familiar blue eyes reminds her how wrong she was to let him go. But now there’s more standing between them than their heated past.

A twist of fate—and a hail of sniper bullets—puts them in the cross hairs of a killer, leaving Riley with just two slim options: trust her greatest betrayer, or face a murderer alone.

This book has been previously published.

Warning: Prepare to get caught in a crossfire of profanity, danger, and desire. Intense violence may trigger the desire to wear body armor…and take it off. Very, very slowly.

Buy Links:

Samhain Publishing – http://store.samhainpublishing.com/forsaken-p-73612.html

Amazon – http://www.amazon.com/Forsaken-Sarah-Balance-ebook/dp/B00K7YXB4Q

Barnes & Noble – http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/forsaken-sarah-ballance/1119867315?ean=9781619222625

Kobo – http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/forsaken-25

iTunes/iBooks – https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/forsaken/id878566015?mt=11&ign-mpt=uo%3D4

Google Books – http://books.google.com/books?id=F5OSAwAAQBAJ&dq

Amazon UK – http://www.amazon.co.uk/Forsaken-Sarah-Ballance-ebook/dp/B00K7YXB4Q/

Amazon CA – http://www.amazon.ca/Forsaken-Sarah-Ballance-ebook/dp/B00K7YXB4Q/

Cover_Forsaken (2)


Without taking his attention from her, Gage climbed out of the chair, cursing when he realized his foot was asleep. He tucked the .38 in the waistband of his pants and limped through the pins-and-needles sensation wreaking havoc in his left boot.

Hell of a time to feel ticklish, he thought, staring at Riley’s wild mane of dark waves sprawled over the floorboards. Not the stark contrast he’d seen over a crisp white pillowcase.

His mind played flashbacks. Memories of dragging his lips over her heaving, sweat-slicked skin threatened his plans…and his resolve.

The flood of emotions shouldn’t have surprised him. He was as stoic as a block of granite when it came to everything—and everyone—except Riley Beckett. He never could put the feeling into words, but just being around her made him feel free, like standing in the middle of the prairie with the sun, and the breeze, and the vastness…and the promise of something he didn’t dare believe.

And he didn’t. Gage knew good things didn’t happen to him. But she’d captured a piece of his soul with her laughing eyes and damning innocence.

The purest woman he’d ever known and he’d destroyed her.


 Cover_Forsaken (2)

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Sarah BallanceSarah and her husband of what he calls “many long, long years” live on the mid-Atlantic coast with their six young children, all of whom are perfectly adorable when they’re asleep. She never dreamed of becoming an author, but as a homeschooling mom she often jokes she writes fiction because if she wants anyone to listen to her, she has to make them up. (As it turns out, her characters aren’t much better than the kids.) When not buried under piles of laundry, she may be found adrift in the Atlantic (preferably on a boat) or in search of that ever-elusive perfect writing spot where not even the kids can find her.  To learn more about her work in contemporary, historical, and supernatural romance and romantic suspense, please stalk accordingly.

Social Media Links:

Website: http://www.sarahballance.com/

Blog: http://sarahballance.wordpress.com/

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/sarah.ballance.author.news

Twitter: https://twitter.com/SarahBallance

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/SarahBallance34/

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4103362.Sarah_Ballance

Cover_Forsaken (2)


Sarah will be awarding a $50 Amazon or Barnes & Noble gift card to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour, and a $25 Amazon or Barnes & Noble gift card will be awarded to a randomly drawn host; hosts will earn EXTRA entries for posting a review of the book.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Room With Books encourages our readers to follow the tour and comment; the more you comment, the better your chances of winning. The tour dates can be found by clicking on the tour banner below.


Roman Reunion Book Tour

Roman Reunion

Destination Desire # 3

By: Crystal Jordan


Releasing September 2, 2014




Karen Patton’s life is falling apart. She signed divorce papers, quit her job, and moved back to her hometown into an apartment that couldn’t feel less like home. With two weeks of free time before she starts work at the Half Moon Bay Public Library, she’s crawling the walls, trying desperately not to miss the man who chose his career over her.

When an old college friend invites her to Italy for an impromptu wedding, she jumps at the chance to focus on something other than her own misery.

Tate Patton is doing his best to ignore the divorce papers that just landed on his desk. A rational, reasonable man would sign and be done with it. Instead, he seizes upon a wedding invitation to do something completely impetuous—ignore the papers and fly to Rome.

When they lay eyes on each other, the sparks fly as hot as the first time they met. Maybe the more mature versions of themselves can fix what’s broken. Their love is too strong not to try…

Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22953334-roman-reunion

Buy Links

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Roman-Reunion-Destination-Crystal-Jordan-ebook/dp/B00MO9WHHE

B&N:  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/roman-reunion-crystal-jordan/1120137849?ean=9781619222311

iTunes:  https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/roman-reunion/id908936949?mt=11

Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/roman-reunion

Samhain: http://store.samhainpublishing.com/roman-reunion-p-73608.html



Karen had forgotten how vibrant the city was, especially the narrow, sloping alleys that made up the Trastevere rione where she’d gone to college and where Valentina and Gio still lived.

Karen had always loved it here. The rush of cars at a breakneck speed they’d never dare in America, the mass of people from all over the world who’d come to visit, the historic architecture, museums, and monuments. She dragged in a breath…and the tantalizing aroma of Italian food hit her nose. There was a restaurant on the bottom floor of Gio and Valentina’s building. Karen’s mouth watered, her stomach growled, and she was forcefully reminded that it would be breakfast time if she were in California. A nine hour time difference could really mess a body up.

Her old friends lived on the top floor, so Karen had stepped outside on the balcony to escape the wedding preparation madness. She was fairly certain every single female relative of Valentina’s had managed to cram themselves into the apartment. And they were loud and boisterous and happy. But mostly loud. Propping her elbows on the railing, Karen looked out over the skyline. A thousand different levels of rooflines, a few cathedral duomos, and she could just see the Vatican peeking between some of the buildings. So different from what she was used to.

A wave of laughter spilled out of the apartment, and she glanced back with a grin. They were a nice family—one who’d welcomed her for every holiday during the year she’d spent in Rome. Glancing at her watch, she saw it was well past time when she could check into her hotel.

It took her another half an hour to say goodbye to everyone because they all insisted on a hug and a kiss from her, told her how beautiful she was, how much they liked her new hairstyle, insisted she come back and join them for dinner. Finally, Valentina laughed, grabbed Karen’s elbow and thrust her out the door or she might never have escaped. She was still grinning when she hit the bottom of the staircase and entered the lobby.

And slammed into someone trying to go up the stairs. She stumbled back, an apology on her lips, but it never formed as her gaze collided with her soon-to-be-ex-husband’s.

“Tate,” she said faintly, falling back another step. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

The flash of utter shock on his face told her he’d had no idea they would both be in Rome either. He cleared his throat and shrugged. “The same thing you are, I’d imagine. Attending an old friend’s wedding.”

There was no way he’d had any more notice on the invitation than she’d had, which meant he’d done something spontaneous for the first time in years. She crossed her arms. “You dropped everything, just like that? You?”

He snorted. “Got one too many calls from Dad the night Gio invited me, so I ran away from home.”

The mere glimmer of a smile crossed her lips. “About time.”

Shaking his head, he huffed out a laugh. His gaze flitted over her. “You changed your hair.”

“Yes.” She flicked the tips with her fingers. “A new look to start my new life. I like it.”

He winced. She tried not to cringe because, really, she hadn’t meant to rub his face in it. It was just the standard response she’d come up with every time someone asked why she’d cut it.

Then there was an awkward moment where she had no idea what to say. She hadn’t expected to see him, didn’t have a list of banal conversational topics ready to save her from uncomfortable silences. “Uh…okay.” She glanced aside. “I need to go check in to my hotel. I, um, guess I’ll see you at dinner tonight.”

“Yes.” He let her get halfway across the lobby before he called out. “Out of curiosity, which hotel are you staying at?”

“The Gianicolo.”

“Me too.” An ironic smile tilted up one corner of his mouth. “Giovanni recommended it to you too, huh?”

She pressed the tips of her fingers against her temple and rubbed at the building pain. “I may have to murder him.”

“Not if I beat you to it.” A muscle ticked in his jaw, and he waved her off. “See you at dinner.”


Then they went their separate ways. As usual.


Author Info

Crystal Jordan is originally from California, but has lived and worked all over the United States as a university librarian. An award winning author, Crystal has published contemporary, paranormal, futuristic, and erotic romance with Kensington Aphrodisia, Harlequin Spice Briefs, Ellora’s Cave, and Samhain Publishing.

Author Links

Website:  http://www.crystaljordan.com/
Facebook:  http://www.facebook.com/CrystalJordanFanPage
Twitter:  http://twitter.com/crystaljordan
Goodreads:  http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1366478.Crystal_Jordan
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/cjbooks
Tumblr: http://crystaljordan.tumblr.com


Rafflecopter Giveaway

  • $20 Amazon or Barnes Gift Card’ and
  • 3 eBook copies of Vegas Vacation: Destination Desire # 1 by Crystal Jordan

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Link to Follow Tour:  http://www.tastybooktours.com/2014/07/roman-reunion-destination-desire-2-by.html

New Button


Bielman, Robin: Veiled Target, Veilers #1

Enter to Win
$15.00 eGift Card of Winners Choosing


Veilers #1

Robin Bielman

Released July 22nd, 2014


Never take Fate along on a date. The kiss goodnight could be deadly.

Tracking down Veilers—non humans—is only a sideline for Tess Damon. Vengeance for her fiancé’s murder is her reason for living. But with two botched jobs on her record, if she fails to eliminate her next mark, she’s dead. She’s not afraid to die, but not before she gets even. Too bad fate has a really bad sense of humor.

Hugh Langston, a wolfen half shifter, lives to keep both humans and his pack safe. But when rogue humans kidnap his apprentice, his rescue mission is compromised by a hot-as-hell, kick-ass woman who makes him think only one thing: mine.

Tess tries to ignore her feelings, but temptation trips her up. Especially when Hugh figures out he’s her next target and forces her into an inconvenient alliance that tests all the laws against their attraction. Now, with the line between good and evil getting blurrier by the minute, it becomes clear Tess’s only hope of living to see another day—and finding a murderer—lies with the one man she’s supposed to kill.



a Rafflecopter giveaway

“Cut the crap, Tess. Why were you following me?”
“How do you know I was following you?” Oops. She meant to say, “What makes you think I was following you?”
He gave a knowing smile—that looked ridiculously sexy rather than irritating. “I know you don’t want to insult my intelligence so let’s just say for argument’s sake, if you were following me, why would that be?”
At least she’d gotten him to change his tone.
“Truthfully?” She leaned a little closer to him. She couldn’t help it.
“That would be nice.”
“I’m really not a very nice person,” she announced.
“Neither am I.” He reached out and moved a strand of hair behind her ear.
Was he trying to confuse her? Because it was working. She’d nearly fallen into his hand before he pulled it away. He was indeed a very bad man.
“That’s good. I hate nice guys. So where does that leave us?”
“I haven’t got all night, Tess.” He lowered his chin, indicating—she presumed—he was growing tired of their banter.
She lifted an eyebrow. “No? That’s too bad. I’m a night owl. I can—”
“Answer my question before I haul you to your car over my shoulder.” His tone sent a little zing of pleasure right to the tips of her breasts.
“As if you could—” She was over his shoulder in one second flat. He moved swiftly, quietly and with superhuman strength. Uh oh. “Hey, put me down!”
He started down the alley, seemingly unbothered by her spastic attempts to get him to let her go. “You ready to walk and talk now?”
“Fine,” she conceded, although the view of his backside was pretty damn good.
When both feet securely hit the ground, she tugged down her dress and shifted the V-neck into place. He watched her squirm to put the rest of the material back where it belonged and his roving eyes heated her from the inside out.
“I followed you because I wanted to help.”
He started walking. “Do I look like I need help?” A little gleam—and major interest?—flickered in his sideways glance.
“Well, no. But I’m very capable and I didn’t feel like going home, so I decided there was no harm in making myself available to you should you need me.” She took a deep breath. It was time to put the question out there. “Did you know Dane is a—”
“Wolfen? Yeah I know.”
“How do you—”
He stopped and turned toward her with confusion and passion in his deep blue eyes. For several seconds he stared at her, like he was trying to get inside her head. Guess what she was thinking. “I’m the leader of the Night Runners,” he finally said.
She imagined he’d told her something he’d never told another human being before.
What the hell was she going to do now?

USA Today Bestselling Author Robin Bielman lives in Southern California with her high school sweetheart husband, two sons, and crazy-cute mini Labradoodle, Harry. When not attached to her laptop, she can almost always be found with her nose in a book. She also likes to run, hike, and dip her toes in the ocean. Filled with wanderlust, she longs to visit many different places and fulfill her curiosity. She wouldn’t mind indulging her sweet tooth in every location either. She’s a lover of sticky notes, cable television shows and coffee drinks. Writing is a dream come true, and she still pinches herself to be sure it’s real.

She writes contemporary and paranormal romance and loves to connect with readers. Learn more and sign up for her newsletter on her website at http://robinbielman.com. She can also be found online here:

Facebook: http://facebook.com/RobinBielmanWriter

Twitter: http://twitter.com/RobinBielman

Goodreads: http://goodreads.com/robinbielman



Couper, Lexxie: Getting Played, Heart of Fame #7

Getting played


Getting Played

(Heart Of Fame #7)

by Lexxie Couper:


Getting Played CoverAfter yet another month without a lead singer, the band Synergy is on the verge of calling it quits. Which drives Jaxon Campbell, keyboardist and perpetual player, to do something dangerous—hit up a woman with contacts—and curves—in all the right places. Trouble is, the last time he saw her, he kind of broke her heart. And stole her cherished, autographed AC/DC album.

Natalie Thorton, Dean of the Sydney Conservatorium of Music, knows everyone who’s anyone in Australia’s music industry. She’s driven and utterly professional and doesn’t have room in her schedule for relationships.

When Jaxon strides into her office, all of Natalie’s suppressed sexual urges—the ones born in Jax’s arms—surge to the surface. He wants something from her? Well, she wants something from him. Orgasms. Lots of them.

How can Jax say no? He’s never forgotten her, and it’s not like they’re going to fall in love. But just who’s playing who? And whose heart is going to fall first?

Warning: Contains a sexual challenge involving sex in public places, sex in private places, sex in moving cars, sex against windows and sex in the company of an oblivious federal politician. So basically, we’re talking about getting laid. A lot.

Amazon // B&N// Samhain


Release Date: July 22nd, 2014




The Heart Of Fame series by Lexxie Couper:

#1 Love’s Rhythm

#2 Muscle For Hire

#3 Guarded Desires

#4 Steady Beat

#5 Lead Me On

#6 Blame It On The Bass



“I’ll find you a replacement for Nick Blackthorne,” Nat said, her voice a raspy, rapid breath. It was as if she was having some surreal, out-of-body experience, except she suspected it was actually her body in charge of her brain and mouth and tongue and voice box. Her body, after all, had never forgotten what sex with Jax was like. And never forgave her for denying it more. “On the condition you give me—”

“Sex?” he cut her off, lips twitching.

. . .

The way he used to.

“Not just sex, Jaxon,” she corrected, her brain slowly catching up with her body’s licentious intent. If she was doing this—and it appeared she was—she was doing it big. The bastard had stolen her AC/DC album, after all. It was high time she got something back. “Mind-blowing, earth-shattering sex. Let’s call them a series of sexual challenges, shall we? For each challenge you achieve, I’ll introduce you to a possible candidate to replace Blackthorne.”

Jax studied her, his expression ambiguous. But there, in his eyes, was that promise. It made her sex constrict and her breath quicken.

Nat sucked in a slow breath. Damn, this was a risky move. But if she played it right, kept her heart protected, the payoff would be amazing. The best sex of her life with the only man who had ever truly satisfied her. She’d come dangerously close to falling in love with him all those years ago. It had only been a stubborn sense of self-preservation that had saved her, but she was older now, wiser, more jaded about romance. She didn’t want romance from Jax. She wanted sex. And he’d just presented her with the perfect way to get it.

Unattached, no-strings, make-him-suffer sex.

She bit back a soft whimper at the unnerving, enticing thought and cocked an eyebrow at Jax. Who she noticed hadn’t uttered a word since sex. “Well?” she said, leaning closer to him, heart fast, lips curling. “You said you’d make it worth my while.”



About Lexxie Couper:

lexxie couperLexxie Couper started writing when she was six and hasn’t stopped since. She’s not a deviant, but she does have a deviant’s imagination and a desire to entertain readers with her words. Add the two together and you get erotic romances that can make you laugh, cry, shake with fear or tremble with desire. Sometimes all at once.

When she’s not submerged in the worlds she creates, Lexxie’s life revolves around her family, a husband who thinks she’s insane, a indoor cat who likes to stalk shadows, and her daughters, who both utterly captured her heart and changed her life forever.

Having no idea how old she really is, Lexxie decided to go with 27 and has been that age for quite some time now. It’s the best of both worlds – old enough to act mature, young enough to be silly.

Lexxie lives by two simple rules – measure your success not by how much money you have, but by how often you laugh, and always try everything at least once. As a consequence, she’s laughed her way through many an eyebrow raising adventure.

Find out more about Lexxie Couper: Website // Facebook // Twitter // Amazon Author Page



Kay, Karen: Spirit of the Wolf, The Lost Clan #2

Spirit of the Wolf-RDL Banner


The Spirit of the Wolf
by Karen Kay
The Lost Clan #2
Publication Date: July 22, 2014
Genres:Historical, Romance
Purchase from:  Amazon • Nook • Kobo • Samhain Publishing

SpiritoftheWolf-The cover

Add to Goodreads.


The end of a curse hides behind a riddle—and the final clue in the heart of a woman.

The Lost Clan, Book 2

Grey Coyote stands on the knife edge of desperation. An ancient curse dooms his people to a half-life in the mists, neither living nor dead—unless he can solve a deceptively simple riddle. As time runs short, he’s sure the answer lies in beating a white trapper in a game of chance.

Among the trapper’s possessions, though, is a prize he never expected. A golden-haired woman as beautiful, delicate and stubborn as a prairie rose.

One moment Marietta Welsford is wondering how long it will take her hired guide to finish his game so she can hurry home to Rosemead, the English estate to which she hopes to lay claim. The next, she is abandoned with a man whose magnetism tugs at her body and soul, and makes her heart out-thunder the storm.

With so little time to lift the enchantment, Grey Coyote at first views Marietta as a trickster-sent distraction. But as sure as the star that guides him, it soon becomes clear she is the clue that could ultimately free his people…and capture his heart.

vector-colored-pencils-913-1856 (4)


It was with a shock she realized she had no recollection of what had happened or where she was. How had she come to be leaning against another human being? Slowly, she drew in her breath, and without daring to move her head—which had fallen back on a muscular shoulder—she opened her eyes and peeked downward.

Sure enough, she was sitting astride a horse, and there was an arm around her middle…a buckskin-clad arm. Curiously, she studied the brown-tanned hand of her captor, noting the long fingers…fingers that held her tightly within their grasp.

This was not the hand of Jacques LaCroix.

Where was she?

Gradually, gently, so as not to alert the one who held her, she turned her head to the side, glancing upward at her captor’s face.

She gasped aloud.

“Careful,” said a male voice in English, his words colored with an unusual accent. He gazed down at her. “You might frighten the horses.”


Again, she chanced a glance upward. This time she sat upright and screamed.

It was an Indian holding her, one who was painted for war, or at least he might have been once upon a time. The paint was almost gone now, rivulets of it running down his face.

The man sighed before he said, on a note that held little patience, “If you must wail like a child now that you are awake, I will have to place a cloth around your mouth. I fear that if you scream again, you will scare the horses.”

Scare the horses? What about her?

Where was she? Who was this man? Where was LaCroix? Yellow Swan? What had happened?

She couldn’t remember anything, except an early morning, Jacques LaCroix offering her coffee, and…

“He…he…” As the previous events fell quickly into place, she stumbled on her words, fearing to speak. After a moment, she could no longer hold her tongue. “You…you drugged me.”

“I have done no such thing,” said the man, whose arm still remained around her, as though to steady her.

“No, but you managed to bribe my guide to do it for you, didn’t you?”

Hiya. You are upset. That is to be expected, but do not accuse me of things that I have not done.”

It was odd. The man’s voice, sounding quietly bored, seemed to reach out to her. And although it calmed her, Marietta was beyond such tactics. “If not that, then why am I here?” She scooted forward as well as she could, trying to put distance between her hips and this man’s. But the pony was small.

“Before he put you to sleep, did your husband not tell you all that was to happen?”


Hau, husband.”

Marietta shook her head, hoping to clear her thoughts. Had she gone to sleep only to awaken in a different time and place?

When she shot another glance behind her to better see her enemy, her eyes met those the exact color of the blackest night. Her stomach dropped.

This was not simply an Indian. This was the man from the Minnetaree village, the same one who had been gambling with Jacques LaCroix, the man she had dared to think might be handsome.

And he had stolen her.

Glaring at him, she murmured, “I remember you.”

She witnessed his brief nod before he gave her a considering glance. “I am surprised.”

“Surprised?” She waited in vain for an explanation.

After several moments he said, “Perhaps your husband did not make his meaning understood.”

Marietta opened her mouth to refute that word, husband, but the Indian was continuing. “I won the game of Cos-soo. You were part of the winnings, and—”

“I was what?”

The man behind her drew in yet another long breath, as though he were weary of the whole affair. In a voice he might have used to address a five-year-old, he said slowly, “Your husband told me that he…informed you of this before he gave you too much corn liquor.”

“Before he…?” She gulped. “Pardon me, Mister… Ah, I don’t know your name.”

The Indian didn’t answer the indirect question.

Marietta tried once more. “Mister…? You do have a name, don’t you?”

The man still didn’t reply, and Marietta attempted again to scoot forward.

At length, the man sat up, appearing like he were about to say something of importance, but he hesitated, while Marietta held her breath. “A warrior does not speak his own name.”

“Oh.” Marietta shot a glance over her shoulder. “Then what am I to call you?”

He shrugged but didn’t enlighten her.

Marietta closed her eyes and shook her very wet head. “Oh, this is perfect. Well, Mr…” she hesitated, “…Rainmaker-who-steals-women…”

She thought she saw him smile, but the gesture was so swiftly gone, she was not certain of it.

Another silence ensued. However, after a moment or two, she squared back her shoulders and began, “Well, Mr. Rainmaker, as I was saying, this may come as a shock to you, but I am not married. I have no husband.”

Again, she chanced a quick glance behind her, but perhaps her look was too swift. She could discern no reaction from the man at all. When he spoke, all he said was, “I am talking about the man who brought you to the Minnetaree village, the scout, LaCroix.”

“Scout LaCroix? Oh, you must mean Jacques LaCroix, of course. He is not my husband.”

“Yet you travel with him.”

“Yes.” Her ire rose. “Good Lord, is it a crime for a woman to travel with a man in this country? I did hire a maid to accompany me. I employed Jacques LaCroix to take me to a particular village. He is not my husband.”

“But he is.”

“No, he is not.”

The man paused. “You do not understand. In this country, when a woman travels, she goes alone, with her husband, or with other women. To be with a man who is not her husband…alone… Her reputation will be marred.”

“Yes, well, perhaps it is a good thing then that my birth does not originate from this country, and that I don’t care about my reputation.”

The man didn’t utter a word, but by his silence, Marietta felt that he must certainly disapprove. It compelled her to say, “Mr. Rainmaker…”

“Grey Coyote,” he finally supplied. “My name is Grey Coyote.”

“Very good. Thank you.” She nodded, her demeanor sweet and one that might have spoken well for her had they been discussing a harmless subject over a cup of tea and a tray of biscuits. “Now, Mr. Coyote, understand, I was not alone. Yellow Swan, my maid, accompanied me. Also, where I come from, a woman may travel anywhere she pleases, and she may even hire a guide to take her to places, particularly if she does not know the lay of the land. And this is what I did. I engaged Jacques LaCroix, paid him money—gold—to bring me to St. Louis…a town farther south of here. That is all there is to it. Jacques LaCroix is no more my husband than you are.” She paused for emphasis. “And yet I am traveling with you.”

The rain began to fall a little harder, drowning out whatever the man might say. Despite this, she thought she heard Grey Coyote state, “I am your husband.”

“What was that?” she said, addressing the man behind her.

Patiently, as though women were a breed apart from men, Grey Coyote repeated slowly, “I am your husband.”

vector-colored-pencils-913-1856 (4)

About the Author:

Karen Kay

Author of seventeen American Indian Historical Romances, Karen Kay aka Gen Bailey, has been praised by reviewers and fans alike for bringing the Wild West alive for her readers.

Karen Kay, whose great grandmother was a Choctaw Indian, is honored to be able to write about something so dear to her heart, the American Indian culture.

“With the power of romance, I hope to bring about an awareness of the American Indian’s concept of honor, and what it meant to live as free men and free women. There are some things that should never be forgotten.”

a Rafflecopter giveaway


Dennis, Angela: Shadows of Fate

 photo Shadows-of-Fate-Blast-Banner.jpg


Title:  Shadows of Fate
Series:   Shadow Born Series #1
Author:   Angela Dennis
Published:  April 8th, 2014
Publisher:  Samhain Publishing
Word Count:  87,000
Genre:  Urban Fantasy
Content Warning:  Sexual content and mild violence
Recommended Age:  18+


 photo Shadows-Of-Fate.jpgRedemption lies beyond the veil between truth and lies.
After witnessing her husband’s brutal murder, Brenna Baudouin lost control of her Shadow Bearer powers and wreaked havoc on her home world. Her penance: one hundred years policing hordes of supernatural misfits that spilled onto the Earthly plane after a cataclysmic war.
She’s on a routine exorcism run when she learns she’s been assigned a new partner. But there’s something about this Shadow Bearer that sparks her suspicions. Particularly when people closest to her start turning up as piles of ash.
Gray Warlow holds tight to the glamour that allows him to get close to the woman on whom he plans to wreak vengeance for betraying his people. Yet as he skillfully manipulates his way past her distrust, he begins to see her not as the heartless monster he was led to believe, but a strong, vulnerable woman.
As they work to put together the pieces of a killer’s macabre puzzle, an attraction deeper than blood and bone flares between them. And they must reveal their deepest secrets to avoid becoming the final targets.
Warning: A thrill ride of supernatural proportions. Contains violent battle scenes, nail-biting suspense, crazy hot sexual tension, and enough twists and turns to make your head spin.
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

Excerpt from Shadows of Fate by Angela Dennis

Copyright © 2014 Angela Dennis
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication 
Her gaze stretched to the bar. Beneath the glittering liquor bottles and burnt oak, a bottle of Jack in one hand and Grey Goose in the other, stood her target. Dirty blond hair brushed past his eyebrows, the rest tied back in a rubber band. He seemed innocent enough. As he flipped a glass bottle behind his back, muscles rippling on his shirtless body, magic seeped from his skin. It flowed around the women stretched across the bar, their assets on display as well as their lust.
Thankfully, he didn’t get much bang for his buck. This one was weak. Newly possessed, the demon hadn’t had time to gain a strong enough lock on the victim’s body. This shouldn’t take long. The piles of paperwork she had left on her desk might even get done tonight.
She pushed through the crowd, stripping her leather duster off her shoulders as she went. The black corset underneath, paired with tight leather pants, flattered her figure. She turned heads, especially the demon’s. She released the hair tie at the back of her neck. With a quick shake, her burnt copper curls slid down to her waist. She stopped at one of the tiny tables and threw her coat across the barstool.
Eyes closed, she pretended the music was something more aesthetically pleasing as she stepped onto the dance floor, keeping her mark at the forefront of her mind. She felt his eyes on her body as she swayed to the music. Hips gyrating to the heavy beat, she pulled on her glamour to blend in with the other dancers as she let her magic wrap his body. Losing herself in the music, she let him watch her move, feeling his desire amp. His energy vibrated as he made his way through the crowd, his power wild.
His hands draped her hips and he pulled her to him, his magic sliding over her body. Darkness tinged her aura, but she shrugged it off. Dealing with demon magic never got easier, but his wasn’t powerful. Grinning, she wrapped her hand around his neck, pulling him close until her lips brushed his ear. His burning skin jumped against her touch.
They stilled for a moment as the DJ switched tracks. “Think you could get me a drink?” she breathed, brushing a hand down his bare back. “I’m thirsty.” She grinned as he nodded, eager, the demon jumping beneath his skin.
“Anything for you, darlin’.” He wrapped a possessive arm around her waist, moving her toward the bar.
“What’s your poison?”
“Whiskey. Straight.”
A grin played on his lips. “My kinda woman.”
Pushing past the other bartender, he grabbed a bottle of Jack and poured her shot. She caught it as it slid across the splintered wooden bar. Tossing it back, she reveled in the slow burn of the liquor. It was an old favorite. Just cause she was working didn’t mean she couldn’t treat herself.
She tossed back a second shot, thankful she didn’t have the ability to get drunk. Giving the demon her best longing look, she leaned forward. “Thanks. I needed that,” she murmured. “What’s your name?”
Leaning forward, she traced a finger down her cleavage. “Do you think you could give me a ride home, Zed?” she asked. She bit one finger in a nervous gesture, knowing he was buying it. “My friend went home with some guy and left me here. I can wait.”
His eyes flashed, and she knew she had him.
“Sure.” He glanced at the other bartender. “Give me a second. I got off an hour ago.”
Sure you did, she thought.
A few seconds later he was back, pulling on a t-shirt as he walked. The gesture was surprisingly human. With the demon hiding inside, the brimstone dancing in his blood would keep his body uncomfortably hot, eventually burning him alive from the inside out. It may be the middle of winter, but he would never feel the cold.
He held up his keys as she rose to meet him. “My truck’s out back.”
She moved closer, letting him drape an arm over her shoulder. “Let me grab my coat.” The duster was where she had left it. She draped it over her arms as she turned on her psychic link with Xavier. The mage accepted, and Brenna turned to the demon, knowing Xavier was watching through her eyes. At this point, the mark’s lust was so inflamed he wouldn’t notice the slight change of color in her irises.
Wrapping her free arm around Zed’s waist, she led him through the mass of patrons to the exit. As they stepped into the wintry air, she noticed the bikers again. They stood beside their Harleys, watching her warily as she passed. She worried the tension might give her away, but Zed was oblivious.
She led him over the cobblestone to where Xavier waited. As they closed in on the shadows, she could feel Zed’s eagerness spike.
The darkness moved over them, hiding them from prying eyes. Xavier’s power sang in the night, a compass pointing her to the van. Leaving Zed to follow behind, she moved to the gray van and pressed her back against its side. Zed moved toward her, all pretense of humanity stripped away. The graceless stride betrayed his hunger as green scales peeled away his skin and his eyes turned to blood red slits.
Brenna waited until he was on her, scales chaffing the sensitive skin of her face, then she dropped her glamour. The demon jerked back as her magic wrapped around his body, but it was too late. In one swift movement, she pulled the blade strapped to her back free and ripped the already tattered t-shirt away from his chest. Shifting her body weight, she slammed him against the vehicle even as his body mass grew, the demon pushing its way to the surface. One hand held Zed steady, the other slipped beneath his jeans to feel the skin of his hip.
“A little to the left,” the demon growled, body shaking, titillated despite itself.
He shifted his weight and slammed her against the brick wall behind her. His body pressed hard against hers, he ran a scaly tongue across her cheek. “You don’t have to get hostile, darlin’. I don’t mind if you like it rough.”
She let her power surge and kneed him in the crotch. Sparks flew as her spell sent him flying against the van. Keeping him in place with a holding spell, her fingers found the rune carved on his hip. She ripped away the denim as she tried to control the squirming demon.
“A little help?” she called out. She had pulled back the spell. Her full body weight was pressed against the demon, but he was starting to get free. Her magic had to be focused on breaking the possession; she couldn’t waste it restraining Casanova.
She released the demon as Xavier stepped from the shadows and slammed it against the van again. Subdued, the creature glared at them, its red eyes filled with hatred. Another hard slam dazed the creature, but only for a moment.
A flick of her hand and the back of the van opened. Xavier shoved Zed inside. As soon as he was strapped into the harness, Brenna ripped off his jeans. His hips now bare, she was able to see the rune carving, fresh as she had hoped.
Her ceremonial blade pulsed in her hand as she charged it with her energy.
Zed spit at her. The saliva sizzled across the corset, burning a hole in the leather.
Damn. That had been one of her favorites.
“Stuff something in its mouth. I need to concentrate.”
“Deal with it. Even in the harness this thing is a bitch to restrain.” White lines creased Xavier’s eyes, and Brenna worried his injuries were more severe than he let on.
Zed’s fingers began to work the trappings of the harness, but Xavier pulled him back, one arm around his scaly neck. In an explosion of power, Zed pulled free, knocking Xavier into the side of the van. Saliva dripping from his fangs, Zed growled at Brenna, and snapped the other wrist free. Jumping across the van, he pinned Brenna beneath him. Spittle fell from his lips, scorching its way across her skin. She pressed her palm against his face and pushed with all her strength, ignoring her burning flesh. Then, suddenly, he was gone.
Getting to her feet, she saw Xavier had strapped the beast back into the restraints.
“You got it?” Once she started, she wouldn’t be able to help him anymore. All of her energy would go into the exorcism.
“Yeah. Hurry.”
A sharp giggle jarred Brenna’s attention. Looking up, she caught Hilda peering through the glass from the front seat. “If he passes out, I can help.”
“This isn’t a game.”


About the Author:

 photo Angela-Dennis.jpg

Angela Dennis lives outside Cincinnati, Ohio with her husband, son and a sheltie with a hero complex. When she is not at her computer crafting stories, she can be found feeding her coffee addiction, playing peek-a-boo, or teaching her son about the great adventures found only in books.

Giveaway Details:

There is an international tour wide giveaway. Prizes include the following:
  • $15 Amazon gift card
  • ecopy of  Shadows of Fate

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 photo JGBSBanner.gif