These are
ADULT titles
SUMMARY:
After
Clovis becomes king of his tribe of Salian Franks he reunites with
Nimia. He soon realizes how useful her Phannic gifts will be, and with
her help, plots to take down Soissons. She is in love with Clovis,
however, and while he says he loves her, too... there is a calculating
coldness in his eyes sometimes that makes her wonder if he knows what
love is.
Sygarius, meanwhile, is outraged that Nimia fled, and he too has
realized that she has useful powers. He wants her back. And he is
prepared to fight for what’s his.
EXCERPT:
Terix
heaved a put-upon sigh. We’d had this same argument a hundred times
over the past month and a half as we fled from Sygarius and toward . . .
toward . . . Well, that was the issue. Toward
what? The only answer that had any meaning—to me, at least—was to
find my lost people, the Phanne. And the only clue I had to finding
them was the story that a tattooed man named Maerlin had once met my
onetime lover (and
only one time, gods rot his betraying heart), the Frankish prince
Clovis, on the shore of the channel. Maerlin had told Clovis that he
was of the Phanne and going to Britannia, and that Clovis must remember
this fact, for someday it would give him what
he sought.
An annoyingly mysterious statement, that.
“He’ll want more from you once we’re on his boat. You’ll have to give it to him, too,” Terix tried.
I hoped so.
Hades, what had come
over me? This was not the Nimia I was familiar with, for most of her
life untouchable and untouched, the consecrated sexual-toy-to-be of
Sygarius.
Or maybe I was the
same Nimia: I had spent those untouched years lusting for the feel of
another’s hand on my skin. Perhaps it should be no surprise to anyone,
least of all myself, that once my virginity
was gone I would seek to gorge myself on that which I had so long been
denied.
Jax was the first attractive opportunity to do so. How convenient for me that we needed his help.
“Better a cock rubber . . .” I said, reviving an old joke between us.
“Than a pot scrubber,” Terix answered, but then made a face.
“That was only funny when we were slaves with no choice.”
“There’s
never a choice for the likes of us. Not here in Gaul, anyway, with
Sygarius hunting us. We have to get beyond his reach.”
Terix threw up his hands. He knew I wasn’t going to be dissuaded.
“It’s your cunny.”
“My cunny isn’t part of the
deal, you know that.” At least, not yet it wasn’t. One look at my
tattoos, and no matter how horny Jax was for me, he’d be a lot hornier
for the ten-soldi reward. “It’s the only way,
Terix.”
Terix turned his shoulder to me, and made grumbling comments to his cup of mead that I chose not to decipher.
I slid my gaze to Jax, and sent him my answer in a small smile and a nod.
Jax rose at once, leaving his
friends to their dice and drink. He wove through the crowd, coming
toward me with an easy, natural confidence, his arms relaxed, his narrow
hips and sinewy frame moving without hurry,
but with purpose. A sudden certainty came to me that a man who moved
through a crowd like that, with no sign of either arrogance or caution,
was a man who didn’t blink at killing anyone who got in his way.
A shiver ran down my spine and landed in my loins. I was a fool if I thought I was in control of this situation.
My cunny pulsed in response to the thought.
“All is agreed?” Jax asked
when he reached me. His Latin had an accent I couldn’t place; I guessed
that he’d not grown up amid Romans. How old he might be, I couldn’t say:
deep crow’s-feet spread from his eyes,
and grooves ran from the edge of his nose to the corners of his mouth,
but a life on the water would do that to even a young man. His hair hung
thick and dark brown, and his teeth flashed white in his tanned skin.
I nodded.
He took my elbow in a gentle
grip and guided me from the tavern into the scorching heat of the day.
The sun felt like flames on my skin. My stomach fluttered as I realized
this was happening; I was going alone
with Jax to the stables. I had agreed to suck his cock in exchange for
his agreeing to take us on as paying passengers, and he was not a man
who would let me change my mind.
Link continuing the excerpt to
XOXOAfterDark
-------------
SUMMARY:
The huntress becomes the hunted in this sizzling paranormal romance from
New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Gena Showalter, previously published as part of the Deep Kiss of Winter anthology with #1
New York Times bestselling author Kresley Cole, now available as a stand-alone ebook!
With only skin-to-skin contact, Aleaha Love can change her appearance,
assuming any identity. As an AIR (Alien Investigation and Removal)
agent, her newest mission is to capture a group of otherworldly
warriors. So imagine her surprise when the hunter becomes
the hunted, and she’s taken captive by dangerously seductive Breean, a
golden-skinned, iron-willed commander, who threatens everything Aleaha
stands for—and makes her want to be only herself, for the first time in
her life.
EXCERPT:
They were coming.
Warriors unlike any other.
Monsters of unimaginable power. Otherworlders. Fierce creatures with the
ability to look inside your soul, glimpse your greatest fear, and
present it to you with an unrepentant smile.
Should’ve stayed home, Aleaha Love thought. ’Cause we’re gonna get spanked.
Hard. And not in a good way. Instead, she’d
answered her cell and her captain’s call to action, and now found
herself crouched in the middle of a gnarled forest, staring into a
snow-laden clearing, moonlight shooting bright amber rays in
every direction as flakes wafted in the breeze like fairy dust.
Though she wore white from
head to toe, had a pyre-gun stretched forward, and was burrowed in a
drift as cover, she felt exposed. Vulnerable. And yeah, damn cold.
What in the hell did I get myself into?
“Everyone in position?” a voice whispered from her headset.
A whisper, yeah, but it startled her. She managed to cut off a yelp, but couldn’t stop tremors from sweeping through her.
Steady.
She’d never hear the end of it if she accidentally fired her weapon before the fight had even begun.
“Premature weapon ejaculation,” they’d say with a chuckle, and she wouldn’t be able to deny it.
One
by one, twenty teammates uttered their assent. They had wicked cool
nicknames like Hawk Eye and Ghost. Her turn, she said, “Lollipop, in
place.”
She
rolled her eyes. “Dress her up and watch her play bad alien, delicious
cop,” the boys had laughed before giving her the stupid moniker her
first day on the job. “Naughty lawbreakers will want to taste her,
not outrun her.”
That
had been, what? Five weeks ago, she realized with a jolt. Oh, how life
had changed since then. From hiding in the shadows, afraid of what she
was, to working cases with New Chicago’s elite team of smart-asses,
content with her somewhat pampered existence. A pampered existence she
didn’t deserve and hadn’t earned, but whatever. No guilt for her.
Really.
“Need
someone to snuggle against, Lolli?” a quiet, amused male voice asked.
Devyn, supposedly a king of some sort and a self-proclaimed collector of
women. He wasn’t really a member of Alien Investigation and
Removal but was a special contractor, as well as the man who’d once
wired her gun to blow bubbles rather than fire at target practice.
Word on the street, he was
more powerful than God and deadlier than the devil, though no one would
tell her outright what he could do. He was an otherworlder, that much
she knew. That, and most of AIR’s flunkies
kept their distance from him. They feared him, which only heightened
Aleaha’s need to keep her own secrets.
She, too, was different.
She didn’t know whether she
was human or alien. Or both. She didn’t know whether there were others
like her or not. She didn’t know who her parents were or why they’d
abandoned her on the dirty streets of the
Southern District—a.k.a Whore’s Corner—of New Chicago, and she didn’t
care. Not anymore. All she knew was that she could assume anyone’s
identity with only a touch. That person’s face became hers; their height
became hers; their body became hers.
For years, she’d lived in
fear of being found out, of being hunted and tortured for her unnatural
ability, afraid that everyone who looked at her saw the truth and knew
she wasn’t who she claimed to be. But she
couldn’t drop the mask. As herself, she was wanted for theft, assault
against a police officer, and more theft. And then maybe kinda sorta
murder. Not that she was culpable. He’d deserved it.
She’d rather lose a limb than spend any more time in jail.
Her fear of discovery was waning, though, and she was settling comfortably into her newest life as Macy Briggs.
Maybe one day I’ll even be worthy of it. Again, not that she felt guilty.
Really.
But
with Christmas only a few weeks away . . . ugh. Worst. Holiday. Ever.
Her “friends” would bake Macy’s favorite foods, not Aleaha’s. They would
give her gifts meant for Macy, and reminisce fondly about good
ole days she knew nothing about, and she would have to smile through
every minute of it. And yeah, okay. Fine.
Then she would feel guilty.
“What,
ignoring me?” Devyn said with another of those snarky laughs. “Wasn’t
like I was going to ask to feel you up or anything. I mean, I was just
gonna surprise you with my handsiness.”
God, she was on the job, yet she’d lost track of her thoughts.
Mortifying. “Can you take nothing seriously?”
“Hello, have you met me? I take making out very seriously.”
All the men on the line
snorted in their attempts to muffle their laughter. They might be wary
of him, but they couldn’t help but enjoy his perverted sense of humor.
“Fuck you, Chuckles,” she said, trying not to reveal
her amusement. Irreverent bastard.
“Excellent. We’re on the same page, because that’s exactly what I’m trying to do to you.”
Give herself to Devyn? Not in this lifetime, and not because he wasn’t attractive. If anything, he was
too attractive. Hell, he was total screw-like-ananimal
perfection. Tall, with dark hair, wide amber eyes, and skin that
glittered like a jewel; there was no one else like him. There
was a recipe for his smile, though: wicked desire dipped in acid,
wrapped in steel and sprinkled with candy. The recipe for his laughter?
Well, that was wicked desire tossed in the gutter, wrung out in a
whorehouse, and slathered with scented body lotion.
Women threw themselves at him constantly, and he ate it up like they
were his own personal smorgasbord.
They
probably were. Thank God she wasn’t in the market for a boyfriend. Or,
rather, a lover, since that’s all someone as fickle as Devyn could ever
amount to. Macy—the real Macy—had been dating a piece of scum
Aleaha was still trying to lose and she didn’t have the time or
patience to throw anyone else into the mix.
“Temper, temper,” Jaxon
Tremain chided. He was one of two agents who hung out with the sexy
otherworlder, and the resident smoother. There was something unnaturally
calming about his presence, as if he could
slink inside a person’s psyche and wash away her fears. “Would you kiss
me with that mouth?”
“Funny,” she said dryly.
She could hear the others chortling and snorting with more surprised amusement. Someone said, “Soliciting kisses from women, Jaxon? Mishka will kill you for that.”
“If by kill you mean seduce,
then yeah,” Jaxon replied. “You’re right.”
Mishka was Jaxon’s wife and a
hired killer who possessed a robotic arm. Aleaha had only seen her
once, but that had been enough to scare ten years off her life. Never
had she seen eyes so cold or heard a voice
so uncaring. Of course, the moment Mishka spied Jaxon, her entire
demeanor had changed. So had Jaxon’s, for that matter. Usually he was as
con- servative as a priest. One glance at Mishka, though, and he’d
morphed into gutter man.
Aleaha had marveled at the
change in him, a change she was witnessing once again. Empathetic as he
was, perhaps he was veering onto the perverted track now to get her mind
off the bloody massacre sure to begin.
Apparently, though, she didn’t need help today. She couldn’t
concentrate worth a damn. What was wrong with her?
“Well,” Devyn said, drawing
the spotlight back to him. As always.
“Be a good lollipop and answer the
man. Will you kiss him or not?”
“I could give you a list of all the things I’ll never do to you with my mouth,” she muttered. “How ’bout that?”
Devyn laughed, and, yep. It
was wicked desire. “She reminds me of Mia when she talks like that. Tell
us, Lolli, is that list for everyone or just Jaxon?”
“All
right, team,” Mia Snow herself interjected before Aleaha could reply.
“Save it. You know I only want you to stun these men. Do not burn them. I
repeat, do not burn them. An open wound will bleed and that
will spread their infection. And believe me, I will kill every single
one of you myself if that happens.”
There was a moment of
frightening silence. Infection. What a delightful reminder. Not only
were the warriors coming here vicious, there was a possibility that they
were bringing the plague with them.
“Good,” Mia continued. “I’ve
got your attention. Solar flare approaching in ten.” She was inside a
van about a mile away, watching the action on a night- vision monitor
with a handful of backup agents. “Nine.”
Aleaha tensed. A few months
ago, a big case had busted wide open and AIR had learned that
otherworlders were traveling to Earth through interworld wormholes that
initiated with solar flares. Then, a few weeks
after that, another case had come to light. Members of a race of aliens
known as the Schön had descended, their bodies carriers of a virus that
passed to humans through their blood and ejaculate. This virus turned
men and women into cannibals. Their queen—or
living host of this sickness—was on her way here, due to arrive in the
near future.
Tonight, ten members of her
horde were supposed to utilize one of those wormholes. Their purpose: to
smooth the way for her. Which meant, destroying AIR.
“Six.”
Shit. The countdown. Despite
the frigid temperatures, sweat beaded on Aleaha’s brow, dripping from
the brim of the white cap she wore.
Stay calm. You have to stay calm.
“Five.”
Though her résumé claimed she’d worked as a cop for more than two years, this was actually
Aleaha’s first mission.
What seemed forever ago but
had only been a few months, she’d stumbled upon the body of a woman
who’d been raped and killed in a back alley—a woman she’d recognized as
Miss New Chicago’s Finest in Uniform calendar
girl, Macy Briggs.
She’d almost walked away. The higher the public profile, the more scrutiny she received. But . . .
Already tired of the
adult-toy-store clerk identity she’d previously stolen, Aleaha had
seized the chance to better herself, hiding the body and shifting so
that she was an exact match to Macy’s appearance, thereby
claiming the woman’s life as her own.
Only later had she learned
that Macy had applied to AIR and been accepted. To back out would have
looked suspicious and changing identities yet again hadn’t appealed. So
she’d done it. She’d attended that first
day, then the next. And the next. They’d watched her suspiciously, as
if they knew the truth, but they had never accused her and she’d
realized she was probably paranoid.
Soon they’d even relaxed, accepting
her as one of their own. Now, here she was, done
with trials and on mission one.
“—was actually your warm-up,” Mia said, cutting into her thoughts.
“Ten. Nine.”
Shit. She’d missed the end of the first countdown? She was practically begging to be killed tonight.
“Seven. Six.”
Oh, God. What if she did, in fact, die out here? What if she lost everything she’d worked so hard to gain? Her gun hand shook.
You have to stay calm, damn it.
With bouts of extreme
emotion, she shifted from one identity to another without any control.
“Four. Remember, guns set to stun and only stun.”
Her
pyre-gun was already dialed to the proper setting, so she curled her
index finger around the trigger and swallowed the hard lump in her
throat.
Breathe in, breathe out. You do know how to fire a weapon, at least.
A skill she’d learned from her only true friend, Bride McKells. A
vampire, and her champion. They’d been separated more than a decade ago,
chased apart by cops who’d caught them
breaking into homes for food, and Aleaha hadn’t been able to find her
since. She’d never stop looking, though.
“One.”
Link continuing the excerpt to XOXO
After Dark:
************************
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. She has graciously provided a Smashwords copy of this title plus a copy of her companion cookbook, 
which releases on Tuesday March 18th! This scorching anthology of sexy Cowboy stories is bound to please. I have a blogpost with an excerpt from Sabrina York's title at this 
