MID WEEK TEASE ~ Happy Halloween

#MWTEASE Happy Halloween!

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In the spirit of Halloween I’ve decided to post a scary snippet from my first novel, Eternity Descendants of Ra Book 1. Meet Roman Nicolis and Stella Walker.

Curled on his body in the middle of Central Park, Roman let Stella sleep. Holding her wasn’t a hardship as his mind wandered to the future, their future. Foolhardy, definitely, but what else could he do when he held the object of his obsession in his arms?

Remember your promise and let her go.

He stroked a wayward lock of hair behind her ear and slid his fingers down her silky cheek. She nuzzled him, turned her face into his palm and kissed him. Every noble intention evaporated like a bead of sizzling water in a hot skillet. Cock rock hard, he had to kiss her, feel her breath on his skin, in his body. In the deserted park, he needed her now.

The fine hairs on the back of his neck bristled. He froze. Battle instincts surged to the forefront, screaming for action, instead, he listened to the night surrounding him and waited. Though not a hub of wildlife, the creatures of Central Park were silent. They also waited. Somewhere, nearby, a predator stalked.

He nudged Stella. She stretched, making him aware of every curve and hollow she possessed, and purred, a sexy rumble deep in her throat. Before she could say a word, he cupped her head and pulled her into a quick kiss.

“Shhh, we’re in danger,” he whispered against her lips.

Her head popped up and she eased off him. In the gloom, her frightened eyes met his. “What?” She mouthed.

“We have to get out of here.”

Crouched low, he took her hand, together they crawled along next to the hedge. He looked over. His keen eyesight picked up nothing and no one. So why did the same excitement he used to get before a battle race through his veins? Stella squeezed his hand. Her wide eyes sent him a question he couldn’t answer.

He drew his gun from the small of his back and the silencer from his jacket pocket.

“Roman?” Her voice wavered.

He spared her a glance. “Whatever happens, do exactly as I say. Understand?”

Her head bobbed on her neck.

“Walk beside me, not in front or behind. Got it?”

Not far from the nearest road, they stuck to the trees and away from the open expanse of the Great Lawn.

Leaves crunched behind them. He’d never run from anything in his life. Even before the curse and his immortality, he stood his ground and killed everything in his path. Now, whatever stalked him, stalked her. His senses told him only one lurked in the darkness, but with Stella to protect, he couldn’t risk it.

The Delacorte amphitheater loomed ahead. He guided her into the shadows. Stationed behind a statue, he aimed and watched the route they had just taken. Stella clutched his jacket, her shivering body pressed close.

“Tell me.”

“There’s someone out there.”

“It could be anyone, ’kids maybe?”

“Maybe.” He agreed purely to reassure her. But as he spoke, one hundred yards away, something peeled away from the shadows of a large tree and charged.

“Stay.” He ordered. Through his jacket, her nails dug into his back. He pulled away, but she wouldn’t let go. He shrugged out of his jacket and advanced. She called to him, begging him to return, but the blood rushing in his ears drown out her voice. He rushed forward and focused on the attacking foe.

Wait. He skidded to a halt. He had a shot, but . . . something was wrong. The height was too short. Whoever ran toward him must be a child—or running on all fours. He squinted at the slice of darkness closing the distance between them. The tree coverage ended and speckled moonlight dotted the Great Lawn, uncovering the thing barreling forward. For a split second his mind tried to unravel the impossible nightmare quickly shrinking the distance, before he fired three shots between its widely spaced eyes. It roared and charged faster.

“Run, Stella!” He fired running back to the theater. She hadn’t listened. Instead of running away, she met him. He grabbed her hand and ran, but she couldn’t keep up and the thing behind them closed the distance.

“Is it him, The Strangler?” she shouted breathless.

They ran past The Preserve, rounded a column and then stopped. Shrouded in gloom, the outline of the pond appeared in front of the Belvedere Castle. He didn’t want her to see what chased them, but before he could stop her, she turned. Her scream pierced the night. Yards away, a bellow replied. He jerked her around and shoved. She stumbled and fell into the water.

“Go!” This time, she didn’t fight. For a second, he watched her swim. Then turned in time for claws to dig into his side.

 

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Cursed for 2000 years, Roman Nicolis has tracked his lovers’ soul through each reincarnation only to lose her horribly every time. Reclaiming their love is his only salvation. He’s been her friend, her father, her neighbor, but never again her lover . . . until now.

A late night walk home throws Stella Walker into the path of a killer. The last thing she remembers are the deep blue eyes of the man trying to kill her—and the first things she sees after a seven day coma are the same blue eyes in the handsome face of the man hired to protect her. Is he truly the owner of a security firm or the man who wants to finish her off? Is it fears she feels when Roman touches her or the memory of something sweeter?

Past secrets haunt them. An angry demon stalks them. 

Roman will do anything to recover what they once had. Though Stella’s ruined childhood has made her close her heart and body to any man, he must get past the walls around her to gain her love and trust, for it will take their union to defeat an unexpected enemy sent from the Egyptian Gods. A man Romans respects, and Stella trusts.

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Only three weeks to release day! You can pre-order Evermore now!

First Contact! And neither Avery nor Emeline will be the same.

A shift in the air alerted him that he was no longer alone. The hesitant whisper of feet gliding across the carpet revealed his intruder. And her scent. She smelled of him—of sandalwood and the night—mixed with her womanly aura that spiked his blood. A growl rumbled in his throat. Could he not have a moment alone? Maybe if he didn’t move she’d go away and leave him to finish meditating.

Silence stretched painfully until curiosity made him open one eye. She sat in front of him, so close he could count the treasure of gold flecks sparkling in her hazel eyes. Her gaze skimmed his face, leaving a trail of hunger he no longer wanted to deny. Her eyes widened when they dropped to his scars. Pity welled.

“Leave. Now.”

Her gaze shot to his. Questions danced in her eyes. Questions he refused to answer. It would serve no purpose to spill his guts to a woman who considered him damaged, less than any other man. Her hand stretched forward. Avery almost leaned into the touch, he craved her that much. But not while pity surfed in her hazel eyes. He’d have none of it.

“Don’t,” he snarled and grabbed her hand.

“It’s…” Her voice wavered.

He held his breath, waiting for her to finish her sentence with any of the words on his personal list: ugly, grotesque, monstrous.

“Beautiful.”

Huh? He hadn’t heard right. Didn’t she see the scars, ravaged skin, and muscles beneath the ink?

“It’s changed. It didn’t look like this before.”

Shit! Sometimes his Ink did change from one indiscriminate mass to a slightly different indiscriminate mass.

“Now it’s intricate with swoops and swirls. Curlicues.”

Curlicues? Not possible. Her hand kept coming. He’d never let anyone touch it, not even during sex. Yet…he wanted her to touch him—all of him—but that was not going to happen. “I did it to hide the scars. Make it pretty. Didn’t work.” He lied.

Again, her hazel eyes filled with skepticism and her hand kept coming, as if he hadn’t ordered her not to. He was about to push her away when her fingers veered to his face. His breath caught, stilled by the possibilities of the moment.

She traced his face with soothing, lazy fingers. Her eyes, fringed with long, sooty lashes, were focused, intent on the torture she inflicted on his flesh. A gleam of interest sparked in their depths and a sultry smile tugged at the corners of her full lips. He’d dreamed this fantasy, never expected it come true. It was wrong to want more, yet her gaze caressed his skin.

Her hand dropped and she swept her thumb over the slight scar on his forearm, a reminder from the fight with her intruders. A jolt raced through him and he sucked in a startled breath.

She studied the slight demarcation. “Your wound? It’s gone. Want to explain?”

Kiss her, part her soft pouty lips and taste her. He shrugged. “Genetic anomaly. I heal fast.” He waited for more questions, but she surprised him when she cupped his face, and rubbed her palm over his day-old stubble. Desire flooded his system, turning the darkness within him into a sea of need.

Take her. Take what you want. Spread her. Fuck her. Take. Take. Whispered, taunted, and finally screamed. Avery balled his hands and kept them at his sides, anything to keep from humiliating himself. If only he could lock away his unending need, treat her as a client and not the only woman who’d ever made his blood simmer.

If he could do that, then he could walk away, but a little bit of Emeline wouldn’t be enough. And if he couldn’t have all of her, he’d rather have none.

He had to leave.

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Poor Avery. He just can’t get a break. Here is another funny, sexy, excerpt from my latest novel Evermore Descendants of Ra Book 3. Available November 11th.  

Avery doubled back to her home. The full-sized bed dominated her small bedroom. Perfume, lotion, and other random bottles were scattered across her scuffed dresser. He opened a drawer and his hand vanished in a sea of frilly items. He extracted a scrap of cream lace and immediately imagined it settled between her thighs. Lust punched his gut.

I’m not going to fuck you, she’d said. As if that was the only thing he wanted from her. He wished things were so simple. Her words imprinted an image of her splayed naked on his bed, awaiting his return.

The lace slid through his fingers. He didn’t feel like a perv until he slipped the panties in his coat pocket. More items drew his attention. Panties and bras, each were inspected as if he were an expert on women’s clothing. Wasn’t a hardship imaging each delicate piece draping her luscious body. Finally, he picked out a red, transparent confection that made all of him hard. He clutched the delicate gossamer in his hand, wishing he held her as he did the strip of fabric.

Focus.

Avery dragged a shaky breath into his lungs and forced his lust to the basement of his soul. A pair of jeans and a thick sweater, some toiletries in her bathroom and her coat from the downstairs closet completed the care package. He locked up and left the house.

Anxiety prodded him when he entered the loft and rode the elevator up to his apartment. Not knowing what you’ll find on the other side of the door would do that to a person. It felt strange coming home to someone. Someone you wanted. He stopped to gather some calm and a nervous chuckle rumbled through his chest. What had she done to him?

Laughter echoed from inside, light and infectious. Raw need knifed him. What had amused her, he wanted to know and see joy on her face, bask in the glow. A deeper, very familiar laugh joined hers.

Oh Hell! He pressed the keypad and entered his private domain. Wasn’t so private with EJ and Emeline sitting on the sofa like long lost pals. Both had beers and stupid grins on their faces. Emeline looked comfortable, as if she liked being around his easygoing little brother more than she liked being stuck with him.

“Hey. I saw your lights on so I stopped in.” EJ climbed to his feet.

No he didn’t. His bike wasn’t parked in the usual spot when he visited. EJ came to snoop. “Now you can leave.” Avery grunted harder than he intended, but EJ laughed.

Emeline stood. He noticed his shirt—and her bare legs. Was she naked? The hem skimmed her knees, that didn’t stop him from imagining her body beneath.

She sauntered up to him. Flashes of her café au lait thighs titillated. “Looks like you’re not going to have to break my legs.”

Damn him if they weren’t gorgeous. Tanned and shapely, the kind of legs a man would love to lick his way up to the treasure between. “Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow.”

“I’ll leave you two alone so you can talk about me.” She headed towards his bedroom.

EJ left the sofa and joined Avery. “Tell me you’re hitting that.” He did not whisper.

Emeline jerked to a stop. She spun and nailed them with a frigid stare. “No one is hitting anything over here.” Her finger swept from the crown of her head to the tips of her manicured toes. Then she stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door behind her.

Avery grabbed EJ by the throat. “Why. Are. You. Here?”

“I came to tell you the game plan. Starting tomorrow, we’re checking out all the abandoned warehouses for the quimaera. I was gonna crash here tonight. Tension’s thick at RockGate. Roman’s all glowy eyed. Everyone’s staying clear of him. Plus, they got a kid now. She’s cute and all, but it’s still weird. Everything is mega weird. And your eyes aren’t exactly normal either. Didn’t mean to cock block.” EJ spoke fast, as usual.

Avery released him and pointed a thumb at the front door.

EJ shuffled off. “She’s funny. And no slouch. She was ready to gut me. I like her.”

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Available November 11th.

There is no such thing as a chance meeting.

There’s no room in Avery Nicolis’s life for an obsession, yet why else does he stalk Emeline Gamble. Lurking in the shadows, he hungers for a woman he can’t have. Between the secrets he guards and anarchy roiling in his soul, his only solace are his glimpses of Emeline. He will resist her, protect her from himself, and deny his desire to claim her heart.

Emeline Gamble was a Watcher for the Order—a secret society of women charged with monitoring the offspring of the gods. For months, she observed Avery Nicolis, an elite mercenary, Descendant of Ra, and enemy of the Order. Never knowing he had her in his crosshairs.

Trapped in a lie, Emeline is forced to accept Avery as her bodyguard. Compelled to spend time with him, she learns to care for his tortured soul and see the hero lurking beneath the assassin’s façade.

But every word out of her mouth is a lie. Every action a betrayal. Because to save her family she is forced to accept a new assignment, deliver Avery Nicolis to the Goddess of Chaos, alive…

And do not fall in love with him.

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The drama continues with Avery and Emeline, but takes a slight detour. Emeline runs into danger…again.

 

Weary, she stretched out on his bed—picked a side—and pulled the blanket, at the foot, over her. He’d locked her in here, and she made herself comfortable. So why couldn’t she fall asleep even when exhaustion dragged her down?

Because it didn’t feel right lying in Avery’s bed, wearing his clothes. All of this was wrong, starting with her. But what choice did she have? Seducing Avery would get him on her side, and temporarily please Ridley. Win-win situation. Her stomach rolled, not because she wasn’t attracted him. The man was hot, and complicated and deadly, all of the combinations she should stay away from, but couldn’t. She never had in the past, and her libido probably wouldn’t let her start now.

Still, she wouldn’t sleep with him in order to trap him. She’d been low before, done things she would never brag about, screwing Avery for Ridley’s agenda—no way. No how.

She tossed her clothes in the dryer and retrieved a butcher knife from a block on the kitchen counter. Determined, she sauntered up to the locked cabinet in the bedroom. Ridley was out there. Emeline would leave, but she wouldn’t go unarmed.

The front door opened. Lost in thought, she hadn’t heard the alarm deactivate.

Damn!

Footsteps—distinctly different from Avery’s—thudded down the short hallway. Who’d come to kill her now? She eased to the bedroom door, knife in her hand, and peered out.

And into the wrong end of a gun.

Never bring a knife to a gun fight. Common sense, but Emeline must’ve missed the memo. Worse, she froze. In the microsecond where she might have had a chance to strike a blow, all of her muscles locked up. Until she heard the surprised gasp and low whistle. A distracted opponent could be defeated.

With her free hand, she knocked her opponent’s arm to the side. Only then did she spot the massive size of the man. She’d thought Avery was tall, this guy was taller and wider. Built like a sixteen wheeler. If he had come here to kill Avery, what would he do to her? She didn’t waste her time throwing a punch that would bounce off his chest, or trying to reach his throat. She went for the gonads, pressed the tip of the butcher’s knife to the seam below the zipper of his jeans. That was the only way to stop a man with intent to kill. Give him something to think about—like ejaculating dust the rest of his life instead of the little swimmers he is so fond of.

“Whoa! My bad. You win.” The gun dangled on one finger in front of her face.

The dim lighting in the hallway kept his face in the shadows but nothing could hide the humor in his words. She hadn’t won. He let her win.

Emeline snatched the gun and pressed the muzzle center mass, right over his heart. She didn’t remove the knife. A bullet in the heart or a wounded dick? Who knew which would frighten him more?

“Back up,” she said not wanting to lead him into the bedroom and give him any ideas. They cleared the hallway and the recessed lighting in the living room bathed his features.

EJ Nicolis smiled down at her.

“Hello, beautiful,” he said.

Shit! DOUBLE Shit!  She couldn’t drop the knife and gun and tell him to have a seat. She didn’t know him. Technically.

“Who are you?” she said.

“I’m EJ. Avery’s brother. Don’t you see the family resemblance?” He tilted his chin and flashed a set of pearly whites. She almost laughed. God, he was cute with his dimpled cheeks and freckles, the complete opposite of Avery’s brooding countenance.

She shook her head. “Not really.” Avery’s record said they had different fathers.

He shrugged. “You’re not the first to say that. But I can prove we’re brothers. Don’t shoot or maim me. I’m cute, but I still need my dick.” Slowly he reached into his pocket and withdrew his wallet. He pulled a battered picture out of a compartment and held the photo up to her. “See, that’s us ten years ago.”

Avery looked the same, big, bald, and angry. EJ had a mop of reddish hair and a skeletal frame waiting to fill out, but the grin and freckles were indelible. “All right, I believe you.” She moved the knife from his precious and lowered the gun as she took a step back.

He held out his hand. “Can I have my gun back?”

Yeah, she had no reason to keep it. But not wanting to look completely trusting, she unloaded the clip and checked the chamber. Butt first she returned his weapon and ignored his raised eyebrow.

“So, what are you doing here?” Emeline folded her arms.

EJ shoved his empty weapon into the small of his back folded his arms which made him appear wider and a bigger threat, not counting the dimples and freckles. “That is my question since I’ve proven who I am.”

“Emeline Gamble. I’m a client of your brother.” Not that she wasn’t sure he knew that already. “I’d shake your hand but I’m not letting go of my knife or your bullets. A girl can’t be too safe.”

“I wish my clients chose to dress like you.” He canted his head and gave her an appreciative appraisal.

“Does that include the men?”

A chuckle rumbled through his chest. “I think I like you, Emeline Gamble.”

Somehow, she didn’t think he said that often and that made her smile.

“Thirsty? I could use a beer. How ‘bout you?” EJ unzipped his coat and shrugged the leather jacket off, exposing two nine millimeters strapped into shoulder holsters and knives strapped to his sides. He tossed the coat on the back of the sofa and kept moving to the kitchen.

Emeline barked out a laugh and followed him. She tossed the useless clip of bullets and placed the knife back into the block. “Yeah, I could use a drink.”

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Coming November 11th.

There is no such thing as a chance meeting.

There’s no room in Avery Nicolis’s life for an obsession, yet why else does he stalk Emeline Gamble. Lurking in the shadows, he hungers for a woman he can’t have. Between the secrets he guards and anarchy roiling in his soul, his only solace are his glimpses of Emeline. He will resist her, protect her from himself, and deny his desire to claim her heart.

Emeline Gamble was a Watcher for the Order—a secret society of women charged with monitoring the offspring of the gods. For months, she observed Avery Nicolis, an elite mercenary, Descendant of Ra, and enemy of the Order. Never knowing he had her in his crosshairs.

Trapped in a lie, Emeline is forced to accept Avery as her bodyguard. Compelled to spend time with him, she learns to care for his tortured soul and see the hero lurking beneath the assassin’s façade.

But every word out of her mouth is a lie. Every action a betrayal. Because to save her family she is forced to accept a new assignment, deliver Avery Nicolis to the Goddess of Chaos, alive…

And do not fall in love with him.

 

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This is a continuation from last weeks posts. The brawl continues with some results.

 

Fists were flying. Men and quite a few women were mixing it up. A few ducks and dodges, deflections and redirected fists,  she avoided being hit.

She grinned as Lincoln crawled away and started after him. He deserved a bit more punishment. A body barreled into her side and knocked her into the table. The punch bowl tipped and drenched her in a fruity concoction. She didn’t have time to wallow in disgust because Avery had one hand clamped around Lincoln’s skinny throat and the other hand machine gunning his grill.

She grabbed Avery’s fist, thinking she could stop him. He shattered that illusion. His fist kept pistoning. “Enough! He’s not worth ending up in jail. Let’s go.”

Avery stood, dragging Lincoln up with him, then discarded him like the refuse he was. He propelled Emeline forward with a hand on the small of her back. Shoving the foolish out of their way, Avery didn’t stop until she was sitting in the passenger seat of the Range Rover.

“Don’t. Move.” He slammed the door and walked around the front of the SUV.

He really liked those one-word sentences, she noted. The creepy sensation she’d experienced lingered, leaving her nauseated and bewildered. What had happened?

Avery climbed into the driver’s seat.

There’s only one way he’d found her. “So where did you plant the bug?” Probably not where he would’ve liked to plant it, she thought waiting for his answer.

“Keychain.” He started the car and drove sedately down the residential street until a speeding police car had zoomed by.

Emeline pulled her keys out of her pocket. He hadn’t lied. A tiny bug dangled like an accessory. She plucked it off her key chain and tossed it out of the window.

“So anxious to see your ex, you sneak out of the house? All you had to do was tell me and I would’ve dropped you on his damn doorstep.”

“I wasn’t there for Lincoln,” she shouted.

“Then why? Why were you at that house?” he barked and took a sharp curve to fast. The tires squealed and Emeline bounced off the door.

She glanced at the hard cut of his jaw, the white-knuckled grasp of the steering wheel. The man wore the bad-ass visage as if it were a second skin, an impenetrable amor. Yeah, he defended her twice tonight. Did that make him trustworthy or just doing his job?

Emeline bit her lip. She needed him in her corner. Should she tell him everything? Could she trust him with part of the truth? She thought of the drool rolling down Belinda’s chin.

“I needed some information about the drawings. Lincoln’s sister, Belinda, is an authority on Egyptian artifacts.” Not quite true, but would do.

Stone-faced, “And it couldn’t wait until morning?”

She crossed her arms and sunk down in the seat. “No.” If she had waited, the miniscule amount of info she’d received would’ve been lost.

“You don’t need a bodyguard, you need a babysitter,” he sneered and swerved around slower traffic.

She grabbed hold of the ‘oh crap’ bar and fumbled with the seatbelt. “You know damn well they’re one and the same. So stop bitching.” She glared into his slightly surprised eyes. “I did it. I left. I didn’t do it to piss you off. If I had waited, to talk you into letting me go, it would’ve been too late.”

She couldn’t get Belinda’s slack-jawed expression out of her head. Whatever they did to Belinda, they were going to do to her. She just knew it.

An indescribable look crossed his face, then he turned back to the road. “What happened in there?”

Emeline looked out the window. Telling him might involve tears and she wouldn’t cry, not in front of him. The silence stretched and the miles ticked by. She rolled the window down, closed her eyes, and let the cold air beat her.

“So Lincoln just happened to be there. Coincidence, huh?”

She didn’t owe him an explanation, didn’t owe him anything. “They’re siblings and that’s her house. I had no idea there was a party or that he would be there. And even if I did, I still would’ve gone. Not that it is any of your business.” So why did she explain herself? “This conversation is over.” She slouched in the seat and closed her eyes.

The car rolled to a stop, jarring her awake. She stretched and a yawn escaped. How long had she been asleep? The driver’s seat was empty. Her car door opened and there stood Avery, face tight, muscles tense. Anger still radiated from him. She shook off her sleepiness and didn’t fight him when he took her hand and helped her from the car. A deep breath filled her lungs with salty air that tickled her nose.

“Where are we?” She looked around at the deserted street. This wasn’t Harlem.

“Westchester. The river is that way.” He turned her toward the front door of the building where they had parked. His hand slid down her back and propelled her forward.

“And why are we here?” She asked, letting him guide her.

He nudged her ahead of him, into the building. They walked down a hallway to a freight elevator and rode to the fourth floor. The door opened to a single metal door in a 5×8 hall. He stopped at a keypad and pressed his thumb against the illuminated console. A low beep and the door opened.

“Wow. Nice place.” She strolled deeper into the apartment. The loft opened to a large living room decorated in different hues of gray with a bank of floor to ceiling windows that had a view of the river. A chrome and steel central kitchen and formal dining area completed the spacious room. She ran her hand over the ash colored leather sofa. The dark masculine colors suited him.

“I didn’t decorate.” He leaned against the wall to the kitchen, his arms folded across his wide chest, long legs crossed at the ankle.

She wasn’t surprised. He didn’t seem the decorating type. “I said it to be polite.” She shrugged. “So, why are we here?”

“Your house has been compromised twice by Vito and you. Here is a better option.”

He hadn’t moved from his spot, yet he seemed relaxed as if being here eased his tension. “So you bring me here without asking me?”

He pushed off the wall and approached with a loose-limbed gait which accentuated his strength and sensuality. “Bodyguards do that sometimes.”

“That’s kidnapping.” She glared at him.

A careless lifting of his massive shoulders, titillated as much as it annoyed, was his answer. He clasped her chin and angled her head to peer at her bruised cheek. “Did you get hit again?”

“No.” His question annoyed her. She could take care of herself. Though she should be grateful he didn’t see her in action. “I’m not staying here.”

His glaze flickered lower, swept down her entire body. “You will stay here or I will break your legs and make you stay.”

His dark eyes threatened, yet captivated, and heated her skin. Her nipples tightened under the tacky sweater. She wanted to pull her coat closed, but wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her flustered. Then again, she was tempted to strip off her coat, no—strip everything off and see if his cool nonchalance shattered.

She couldn’t. That’s what Ridley wanted, to use her like a whore, and Emeline wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Even though she wanted him—badly.

“I’m not fucking you,” she said to herself…then realized the words had actually left her mouth. Horrified, she froze and waited for Avery’s reaction.

His face turned to granite, his eyes flinty. He crowded her with his body so close the heat of him baked her. “I’ve had enough women fuck me.”

Whoa. Her breath left her in a rush, along with anything else she could possibly say.

Avery returned to the front door.

“You’re leaving me here?” Apparently, she did have more to say.

“I’ll be back.” He punched in a code into the security panel. “And yes, I’m locking you in. You’ve blown your trust with me.” The door slammed behind him, clicked twice, and the alarm gave a long beep.

A scream almost tore from her throat when the absurdity of her situation dawned. Avery didn’t trust her. He had every right not to.

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Coming in November!

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AVERY AND EMELINE GET DIRTY!

 

One hundred feet to the front door, soon she’d be home free. She dodged the drunks, the stoners, the lovers, the dancers, and had almost made it to the exit when Lincoln stepped into her path.

Emeline rolled her eyes, sucked in a deep breath, but choked when an unexpected laugh erupted. She doubled over, holding her side, from the sudden hysteria carrying her away. “Of course I would run into you. It’s been that kinda night.”

Lincoln didn’t return her humor. He stood there, arms folded over his chest, trying to appear intimidating. “I was going to let you go. Leave you alone to live your life after seeing you at the club. Then you show up here, to see me.” He signaled to the DJ and the music ended. “You miss me, baby? Came to apologize? Kiss and make up? Start on your knees.” He pointed to the hardwood floor.

A circle formed around them. Emeline scanned the crowd, checking for Ridley and the mysterious goddess. Lincoln whistled, snapped his fingers in front her face. “Don’t have all day.”

What did I ever see in this morally bankrupt, egotistical man? Definitely not her finest moment. He opened his pants. Unzipped his fly. Took out his less than impressive, erect dick and stood there with a stupid grin. He chanted ‘knees’ and the crowd joined the chorus. Her blood boiled at him, the drunk crowd, Ridley, Avery, everything. The crowd wanted a show. Tonight, they came to the right place.

With a sultry grin plastered on her face, Emeline clasped his dick. She stroked up from the base, circled the head, and let her hand slide down. Lincoln’s head fell back and he groaned, deep and throaty. Catcalls swept through the room along with flashes from cell phone cameras as he thrust his hips out and began rocking. “You remember how I like it.” He panted.

How he liked it was pretty much how every man liked it and nothing noteworthy to remember. That was Lincoln’s problem; he thought he was special because of his family’s influence and because his genitals dangled.

She’d fallen for it. So what did that say about her standards? Not much, but tonight wasn’t about reminiscing. After what happened to Belinda, Emeline had a taste for vengeance and Lincoln volunteered to be on the menu.

She cupped his balls, rolled them in her hand. He moaned, gave a throaty laugh and high-fived the dude standing next to him.

Yeah, enjoying it bastard? She tightened her hand, ready to strike.

Awareness pricked her senses. Darkness swirled at the edge of her mind, drowning her in waves of fury. She fought it, retreating would allow the sensation to swallow her. Unconscious at Lincoln’s mercy, and the crowd was not an option.

She shook her head to clear the fog—and collided with Avery’s feral glare.

Though her insides squirmed and urged her to tuck tail and run, Emeline couldn’t move. Avery’s furious glare rooted her to the spot. His lips were peeled back and he growled. She actually heard it. Swore she felt the sound reverberate in her chest. He shoved two people out of his way and broke the circle, just as she twisted Lincoln’s junk three hundred and sixty degrees.

He screamed, went up on his tip-toes, “Get her off! Get her off!”

Emeline jabbed her elbow into his throat and the heel of her palm into his nose. His head snapped back, blood gushed and splattered on her. All the while, she kept his dick and balls in a vise grip. A fist from one of Lincoln’s friends came flying at her head.

Avery blocked the blow and tossed the guy into the nearest wall. Another came at him. A quick jab and an uppercut knocked his opponent senseless. “Wanna let go of his shit or do you plan on taking it home for Christmas?” he shouted over the din while putting a guy in a headlock and flinging him into the wall.

“I don’t want this under my tree.” Emeline kicked Lincoln’s knee and released his parts. He collapsed, cradling his crotch. She picked up a bottle of whiskey next to the punch bowl, doused her offending hand, and dried her palm on her jeans.

She hadn’t come here to start a brawl, but—oh well.

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COMING IN NOVEMBER!

There is no such thing as a chance meeting.

There’s no room in Avery Nicolis life for an obsession, yet why else does he stalk Emeline Gamble. Lurking in the shadows, he hungers for a woman he can’t have. Between the secrets he guards and anarchy roiling in his soul, his only solace are his glimpses of Emeline. He will resist her, protect her from himself, and deny his desire to claim her heart.

Emeline Gamble was a Watcher for the Order—a secret society of women charged with monitoring the offspring of the gods. For months, she observed Avery Nicolis, an elite mercenary, Descendant of Ra, and enemy of the Order. Never knowing he had her in his crosshairs.

Trapped in a lie, Emeline is forced to accept Avery as her bodyguard. Compelled to spend time with him, she learns to care for his tortured soul and see the hero lurking beneath the assassin’s façade.

But every word out of her mouth is a lie. Every action a betrayal. Because to save her family she is forced to accept a new assignment, deliver Avery Nicolis to the Goddess of Chaos, alive…

And do not fall in love with him.

 

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MID WEEK TEASE!

#mwTEASE!

MidWeekTease2

 Here is another snippet from the soon to be release third novel in the Descendants of Ra series. 

This wasn’t how Avery planned to spend his night, on a lumpy sofa guarding the one person he shouldn’t be near. He could kick himself for not letting EJ protect her. But his horny brother would make a play for Emeline and Avery didn’t want to have to kill him.

He balled his hands and pressed them against his closed eyes. Unrealistic dreams lead nowhere. That’s why he’d stopped following her. Following was a gentler word than stalking which made him seem like a sociopath. He’d kept telling himself he wasn’t, though he had to admit he did have some tendencies.

God, things hadn’t start out that way, but yeah, he’d stalked her. He’d seen her at a park in the West Village during the summer. An orange sundress fluttered about her legs like a flag, billowing every few seconds so every man within a two hundred foot radius glimpsed an exquisite pair of brown sugar thighs. He’d stopped and stared at her wide, almond shaped eyes, her heart shaped face surrounded by a dark mop of wild curly hair. All of her captured a man’s attention. And their lust. He’d almost gone to her. He would’ve asked for her name, taken her to dinner, taken her home, and…taken her sweetness.

She wasn’t the type of woman a man did a drive-by. She was the type a man got addicted too. Impossible in his line of work. So, he’d walked away. A job in the Middle East kept him occupied for three weeks.

When he returned, EJ had dragged him to RedZone. She was there, in the skimpiest umpire uniform ever made. Black boy shorts and stripped black and white cropped top hugged a sinful body. His skin shrink-wrapped. Sweat trickled down the center of his back like a coward. He’d wanted to turn tail, yet he forced himself to find a chair and watch her all night.

Watched, wanted, and ached. Watched her flirt with men. Wanted to kill each one of them for stealing bits of her attention that should be his alone. Ached to lick every curve and hollow, take her until the only man she allowed within ten feet of her was named Avery.

Eventually, her gaze found his. Her eyes widened and for a moment, he imagined a spark of desire. Then she turned and walked away. Rejection never tasted so bitter. And was never so necessary.

Hell! What the fuck was he doing here? There was no rational explanation for him being in her home, other than some masochistic wish to torture himself, and his presence placed her in danger.

Before he changed his mind, he had his phone out, his finger pressing seven digits. No ringing, no chance to change his mind. The connection went straight to voicemail.

“I have a client that needs protection. ASAP.” He didn’t leave his name.

He closed the phone and scrubbed a hand over his bald head. A wedge of cold fury settled in his chest. He should be happy. He’d kept his word. McIntosh would take over her care.

The coldness spread through his body to every nerve ending. The muscles across his back seized and that crawling sensation returned like the march of red ants swarming an unlucky grasshopper, chomp, chomp, chomping away.

Avery yanked off his shirt. In the mirror hanging over the sofa, he studied his body. Six months after the burn, a small black dot appeared on his back. Over time, the stain grew and changed, like a Rorschach painting with a will of its own.

Yesterday, it covered his upper back and half of his right bicep. Now, it stretched to his elbow and left shoulder. Never had it progressed so fast.  He twisted around and saw it had spread to the middle of his back. It had no discernible pattern, just a random blotch that had no meaning. What had changed?

Emeline.

He’d caught her scent when he took the water bottle from her, a desert rose mix that promised a dangerous ride, tortured him. His blood flashed hot and a different kind of fury took hold. He hungered, though not for food. And only one thing would satisfy. He looked at his phone still clasped in his hand and forced the regret away.

The memory of what happened at the lake surfaced and the thing that attacked him. Through the water and his clothing, her clammy embrace had immobilized and drained his will. Her voice had reverberated inside his head. Give me, it said. If EJ hadn’t pulled him for the lake—I can’t keep Emeline.

Shit! That came out wrong. I can’t protect her. Especially when something hunted him. She had to go to McIntosh.

A sound came from the kitchen, but he hadn’t heard Emeline come downstairs. He eased to the archway and listened. There it was again, the distinct scraping of a lock being picked. Avery used the remote to turn off the motion sensors and waited. Glass crashed to the floor, probably from one of the window squares in the backdoor.

Avery grabbed a glock and went to the archway. His heartbeat slowed as he shut down his emotions and focused on the kill, because anyone breaking into this house had a death wish he would fulfill. For the first time since entering the home, everything in him relaxed, as his body always had when facing a battle, even as the ants started nipping under his skin again.

He shifted and peered into the hallway.

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COMING IN NOVEMBER

There is no such thing as a chance meeting.

There’s no room in Avery Nicolis life for an obsession, yet why else does he stalk Emeline Gamble. Lurking in the shadows, he hungers for a woman he can’t have. Between the secrets he guards and anarchy roiling in his soul, his only solace are his glimpses of Emeline. He will resist her, protect her from himself, and deny his desire to claim her heart.

Emeline Gamble was a Watcher for the Order—a secret society of women charged with monitoring the offspring of the gods. For months, she observed Avery Nicolis, an elite mercenary, Descendant of Ra, and enemy of the Order. Never knowing he had her in his crosshairs.

Trapped in a lie, Emeline is forced to accept Avery as her bodyguard. Compelled to spend time with him, she learns to care for his tortured soul and see the hero lurking beneath the assassin’s façade.

But every word out of her mouth is a lie. Every action a betrayal. Because to save her family she is forced to accept a new assignment, deliver Avery Nicolis to the Goddess of Chaos, alive…

And do not fall in love with him.

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MID WEEK TEASE!!! EVERMORE

 

#MWTease 

MidWeekTease2

It’s Wednesday! Happy Hump day! And it’s time for a tease from my upcoming release. Evermore, the third novel in my Descendants of Ra series will be available in October.

 

Tires squealed to a stop. It wasn’t long before a pair of combat boots came into her line of sight. Strong hands scooped her up and cradled her against a broad chest encased in a leather coat. Warmth surrounded her, made her want to burrow closer to his heat. Male musk and a hint of something else, something dangerous filled her nostrils.

“I got you.” His voice, guttural and so damn sexy, rumbled through her.

No, he was on the hook. And she had just reeled him in. Her teeth chattered from the cold, his heat, her nerves, the lies.

Avery opened the passenger door and carefully sat her on the leather seat. He hit the overhead lights and gently took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. Calloused fingers brushed her hair away and angled her face toward the light.

“Who did this to you?” Low, his voice promised retribution.

“I didn’t get their number.” She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her. His intensity made her insides squirm.

“I’ll take you to the hospital.”

“No.” She touched his hand. “It’s okay, not as bad as it seems.” She wiggled her jaw and managed only a slight grimace.

He leaned closer. All of him filled her vision. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Captured by his heated stare, she shook her head.

“How many were there?” His finger trailed over her cheek and down her neck.

Her thoughts kinda fizzled at his touch. “Who are you?” She remembered to ask again. He gave her a quizzical look, possibly thinking of a lie, she wondered. Her phone rang. Emeline fished it out of her purse and answered without looking. She listened to Zackary pound his chest about hiring a bodyguard for her. He was so proud of himself and expected a reward. The sick hope in his voice almost made her laugh.

“Describe him.” She ordered watching Avery.

“Big guy, bald, pissy attitude. I wanted his brother, but he volunteered,” Zachary said.

“Thanks, Zachary. I owe you one.”

“Really? Well—”

She pressed end. “So you’re my bodyguard?” Perfect. Zachary finally did something right.

“Until I get someone else.” He stepped back and slammed the passenger door closed.

Why accept the job only to get someone else? Nerves made her stomach flutter as she watched him walk around the front of the Range Rover and climb into the driver’s seat. “Do you have a name or shall I make up one?”

“Avery,” he said without looking at her. The car rumbled to a start. Something loud and angry blasted from the speakers. He clicked it off, though she didn’t mind. She preferred Hip-Hop, R&B, and a little bit of Rap. No love songs, though Luther Vandross could put the most celibate body in the mood.

“Emeline,” she offered when he didn’t ask. A giggle threatened to escape, but her bruised ribs would have none of it. ‘Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.’ Well we are both, well and truly tangled.

“Something funny?” He pulled into traffic.

He’s observant as a killer or watcher should be. No more lapses. She had to be on guard. Emeline noticed his hands gripping the steering wheel. Big capable hands. “Two men. They wore masks. Tried to steal my purse.” He glanced at the satchel in her lap. Damn, she should’ve insisted they take it.

“Two men, one purse?” His gaze locked on hers. “Why do you need protection, Miss Gamble?”

She hadn’t told him her last name. She could call him on it, but he’d say Zachary told him, so she let it slide. “I don’t. I’m not the one who hired you.”

“Your ex is very concerned about you welfare.”

“You know a lot about me in such a short time, Mr.—what is your last name?” The car rolled to a stop at a red light. His head turned to her and she shifted in her seat to keep an eye on him.

“Nicolis. Your ex filled in a few blank spots before I caught up to you. Anything else you want to know?”

“Yeah. Did he fill you in on where I live too ‘cause we’re real close?”

His eyes narrowed and he glanced at the surrounding area. The light turned green. “Your boss said someone broke into your house. Beat up you and your grandfather. Now you’re attacked on the street. Your enemies, who and where are they?”

She lives in a big house on Riverside Drive. I will take you straight to her. “I don’t have enemies.”

“We all have enemies,” he growled. “Some closer than others.”

Ain’t that the truth.

 

BLURB

There is no such thing as a chance meeting.

There’s no room in Avery Nicolis’s life for an obsession, yet why else does he stalk Emeline Gamble. Lurking in the shadows, he hungers for a woman he can’t have. Between the secrets he guards and anarchy roiling in his soul, his only solace are his glimpses of Emeline. He will resist her, protect her from himself, and deny his desire to claim her heart.

Emeline Gamble was a Watcher for the Order—a secret society of women charged with monitoring the offspring of the gods. For months, she observed Avery Nicolis, an elite mercenary, Descendant of Ra, and enemy of the Order. Never knowing he had her in his crosshairs.

Trapped in a lie, Emeline is forced to accept Avery as her bodyguard. Compelled to spend time with him, she learns to care for his tortured soul and see the hero lurking beneath the assassin’s façade.

But every word out of her mouth is a lie. Every action a betrayal. Because to save her family she is forced to accept a new assignment, deliver Avery Nicolis to the Goddess of Chaos, alive…

And do not fall in love with him.

cropped-mediumevermore.jpg

COMING SOON! 

 

C

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DESCENDANTS OF THE GODS CONTEST Day 5

Continue reading

Mid Week Tease

Here is a Mid Week Tease of the 1st novel in my Descendants of Ra Series. #MWTease

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Curled on his body in the middle of Central Park, Roman let Stella sleep. Holding her wasn’t a hardship as his mind wandered to the future, their future. Foolhardy, definitely, but what else could he do when he held the object of his obsession in his arms?

Remember your promise and let her go.

He stroked a wayward lock of hair behind her ear and slid his fingers down her silky cheek. She nuzzled him, turned her face into his palm and kissed him. Every noble intention evaporated like a bead of sizzling water in a hot skillet. Cock rock hard, he had to kiss her, feel her breath on his skin, in his body. In the deserted park, he needed her now.

The fine hairs on the back of his neck bristled. He froze. Battle instincts surged to the forefront, screaming for action, instead, he listened to the night surrounding him and waited. Though not a hub of wildlife, the creatures of Central Park were silent. They also waited. Somewhere, nearby, a predator stalked.

He nudged Stella. She stretched, making him aware of every curve and hollow she possessed, and purred, a sexy rumble deep in her throat. Before she could say a word, he cupped her head and pulled her into a quick kiss.

“Shhh, we’re in danger,” he whispered against her lips.

Her head popped up and she eased off him. In the gloom, her frightened eyes met his. “What?” She mouthed.

“We have to get out of here.”

Crouched low, he took her hand, together they crawled along next to the hedge. He looked over. His keen eyesight picked up nothing and no one. So why did the same excitement he used to get before a battle race through his veins? Stella squeezed his hand. Her wide eyes sent him a question he couldn’t answer.

He drew his gun from the small of his back and the silencer from his jacket pocket.

“Roman?” Her voice wavered.

He spared her a glance. “Whatever happens, do exactly as I say. Understand?”

Her head bobbed on her neck.

“Walk beside me, not in front or behind. Got it?”

Not far from the nearest road, they stuck to the trees and away from the open expanse of the Great Lawn.

Leaves crunched behind them. He’d never run from anything in his life. Even before the curse and his immortality, he stood his ground and killed everything in his path. Now, whatever stalked him, stalked her. His senses told him only one lurked in the darkness, but with Stella to protect, he couldn’t risk it.

The Delacorte amphitheater loomed ahead. He guided her into the shadows. Stationed behind a statue, he aimed and watched the route they had just taken. Stella clutched his jacket, her shivering body pressed close.

“Tell me.”

“There’s someone out there.”

“It could be anyone, ’kids maybe?”

“Maybe.” He agreed purely to reassure her. But as he spoke, one hundred yards away, something peeled away from the shadows of a large tree and charged.

“Stay.” He ordered. Through his jacket, her nails dug into his back. He pulled away, but she wouldn’t let go. He shrugged out of his jacket and advanced. She called to him, begging him to return, but the blood rushing in his ears drown out her voice. He rushed forward and focused on the attacking foe.

Wait. He skidded to a halt. He had a shot, but . . . something was wrong. The height was too short. Whoever ran toward him must be a child—or running on all fours. He squinted at the slice of darkness closing the distance between them. The tree coverage ended and speckled moonlight dotted the Great Lawn, uncovering the thing barreling forward. For a split second his mind tried to unravel the impossible nightmare quickly shrinking the distance, before he fired three shots between its widely spaced eyes. It roared and charged faster.

“Run, Stella!” He fired running back to the theater. She hadn’t listened. Instead of running away, she met him. He grabbed her hand and ran, but she couldn’t keep up and the thing behind them closed the distance.

“Is it him, The Strangler?” she shouted breathless.

They ran past The Preserve, rounded a column and then stopped. Shrouded in gloom, the outline of the pond appeared in front of the Belvedere Castle. He didn’t want her to see what chased them, but before he could stop her, she turned. Her scream pierced the night. Yards away, a bellow replied. He jerked her around and shoved. She stumbled and fell into the water.

“Go!” This time, she didn’t fight. For a second, he watched her swim. Then turned in time for claws to dig into his side.

 

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