The Opeth Pack – How it All Began

Paranormal Erotic Romance featuring hot werewolves, a sexy witch and more!

Legend has it the creation of wolves was a heavenly thing, and if that was so, it might work something like this:

Emesh stood, arms over her large belly.  Standing in the middle of a clearing, she rubbed her stomach, hoping the beauty inside that was to be born soon would not hate her, never curse her though she would deserve it.

The wind blew, moving wisps of dark hair across delicate pale skin.  Emesh reached behind her ear, tugging loose strands away from her face.  A final glance over the land revealed lush grass and fields as far as the eye could see.  Her goddess powers picked up on the seawater smell of the lake several miles away.   The others promised her the land would be fertile.  They said the wolves could not occupy heaven just yet, they needed to mature first.

When Emesh first heard that her babies would be born on earth amongst the humans, she’d felt afraid.  But the Boldog Asszony, the fertility goddess reassured her that things would be all right.

She’d even helped Emesh find a suitable home for the wolves. They had chosen this land because of it’s breathtaking beauty and diverse landscape.  The flatlands of this land would give her children enough room to roam freely, the lake in the central area of what would be known as Hungary would supply nourishment and prosperity.  The people who would inhabit this land would be noble but would struggle until they reached their purpose.

To show the world that survival was the only option.

Her children, born of wolf and goddess would push forward ideals set in stone by Fate itself, the idea that wolves were the chosen inhabitants of this earth and even though they’d fall, once they learned of the prophecy, they would be given the tools to work with it.

Those the idea of her future grandchildren having to bear such a heavy responsibility pained her, made her heart ache.  Emesh stood still in the circle, eyes closed, listening.


A gentle breeze blew, whispering words that caught her attention.

It’s time.

Emesh opened her eyes, focused on a single point on the ground and blinked.  A bright red and orange flame appeared, several feet high.

Boldog Asszony’s face appeared in the flames, hair spread wide and flowing like the rivers, eyes bright yellow as the sun.  Her lips were blood red, skin the color of the moon, a pale blue that mostly looked ghostly white.  “I would not damn my own.”

Emesh read her creator’s lips and nodded.  Feelings welled up inside her, bringing tears to her eyes.  Still, she would not shed them as she birthed her babies.

The image vanished, leaving behind a smaller flame.

It was now or never.

Emesh trusted that this was the right thing, as she sank down to the ground, felt the energy ball containing the lives of her first pack extricate itself from her body.

For a moment, she felt a giant weight lifted from her shoulders.

As she looked up into the sky, then back at the ball of life, glowing with energy and smelling of lupine, thick with the scent of dirt and fur, she realized he’d only swapped one burden for a much heavier one.

That of the same burden the Christians would place upon their savior.

Tears fell down Emesh’s face as rain began to fall.

The ball of light and life hovered before her, glowing.  Within seconds, it had exploded, sending little bursts of each life in different directions, flying faster and faster from her without even so much as a goodbye, or a thank you.

One sparkle floated before Emesh.

Reaching out, she captured the sparkle of life, felt the warmth and decided then that her babies needed a guardian here on Earth who would help guide them towards the prophecy.

Emesh decided then she would give birth to a human with wolves blood.


“This clearing has power,” Emese muttered to nobody in particular, aware of the fact that she’d been followed.

She knew which pup had followed too.  He would grow to be strong, pack Alpha.  But the madness of the Flower Maiden would catch up to him sooner or later and he would have to be dealt with.

Pulling back dark hair from her face, she realized he might as well at least be given a chance before she wrote the entire pack off.

“I know you’re here Kiba.  Come out.”

Leaves and tall grass rustled, but nothing happened.  It took her a second to find him, but she let him be.  “Fine. Have it your way.  Listen to the spirits tell you of this world and it’s history.”

Emese closed her eyes and knelt down, more strands of dark hair falling into her face, hiding her eyes.

Wind blew, taking Emese’s body from the ground.  She opened her eyes and started to speak.  The words were familiar, but the voice was not her own.

“The lands that used to be the Austro-Hungarian Empire were once filled with a definite, bright spark of life.  Fields of brightly colored flowers and vineyards as far as the eye could see dotted the land.  Lush forests around Lake Balaton breathed life into the region and brought prosperity.

Then there were the inhabitants.  Wolves.

The chosen beings of The Goddess, often talked about the Fertility Goddess or Boldog Asszony.  She was the mother of all fertility, harvests, of mates and all things created amongst the wolves who inhabited the lands.

Then the humans came and brought Christianity with them, converting some of the wolves to Catholicism.”

Emese wanted to stop the story here, but the voice, the power that had control of her body refused.

“There was peace between the humans and the wolves for hundreds of years on the surface, but as humans populated the region and conquered individual lands, the Austro-Hungarian Empire became two separate similarities within the two cultures.

The earth had been burned just to make light that man could see.  Some human was never content with what he had been given in this life, so wars had been started that forced the entire world to pay a price.  Bombs dropped, bullets and smoke filled the lands, making the wolves in those areas sick and killing others.  Just for someone’s pride and discontent.”

Emese sensed the spirits discontent at man’s desire to conquer and claim what was not his.  “So many humans died during the many wars.  Scarcity of food became such a problem that the wolves were forced into hiding to avoid being hunted to remove the competition for what food there was.”

Even as the words came from her mouth, Emese knew that the silver furred pup would take in all the information, would see tears slide down her face.

“While the humans and wolves divided so did those among the wolves. Their magic began to disappear, their lands were taken from them Wolves began migrating and learning how to appear human, using the archaic magic bestowed upon them by their beloved Boldog Asszony.

HisReign_MEDToday, most humans still fear the mighty wolf, carnivore, hunter.  None seem to understand the delicate society created by the wolves in response to the gifts they were given, the paradise they had been blessed with and lost.  Many packs had been broken up and scattered throughout Europe and America.  The Opeth pack, the pack truly blessed by Her gift had managed to remain on their original lands, but only contained a handful of members.”

Tears stung the backs of Emese’s eyes.  With a curse, Emese broke free of the history lesson and dropped to the ground.   Her body was tired from being used by the spirits.  She felt like she’d been filled up by an awesome power that pressed against every bone, muscle and fiber of her being until it threatened to tear her apart from the inside out.

Kiba stood silent like a good pup.  It was bad to mess with the pack witch after events like that when no power could be offered to replace what she had lost.  She was certain he hadn’t learned to use his powers yet to heal.  He was not a healer, only a temporary Alpha until one was born strong enough to lead the pack and not be affected by the Flower Maiden’s disease.

She cried for them that night.  All of her babies, the ones she’d been entrusted to guide by the Fertility goddess, by her great grandmother.  Wolves howled a lonely song in the distance, raising the hair on the back of her neck.  The song wasn’t eerie so much as it was sad.

Hopefully the two born to her recently would survive with the help of the pack.

Kate HIll’s Halloween Hop for Readers!

The entire month of October, author Kate Hill has set up a fabulous Halloween Hop for readers, meaning prizes and more fun stuff than you can shake your broom at!  Her video will give details, but you can see it here!

Guest List:

October 1: Changeling Press + Coupon Code

October 3: Mechele Armstrong (Halloween Thursday 13) + Contest

October 4: Lisa Carlisle + Contest

October 5: Jocelyn Dex + Contest

October 6: Sascha Illyvich

October 7: Mychael Black

October 8: Shara Lanel

October 11: Beth Caudill

October 12: Selena Illyria

October 13: J.S. Wayne + Contest

October 14: Cari Quinn + Contest

October 15: Ana Raine

October 17: Sabrina York (Halloween Thursday 13) + Contest

October 18: Zenobia Renquist + Contest

October 19: B.J. McCall + Contest

October 20: Wendi Zwaduk + Contest

October 21: James Dorr

October 22: Ashlynn Monroe + Contest

October 24: Denise Agnew (Halloween Thursday 13) + Contest

October 25: N.J. Walters

October 26: Dena Garson + Contest

October 27: Lexi Post + Contest

October 28: Candace Sams + Contest

October 29: Melodie Campbell

Kate Hill's site can be found HERE
Published in: on October 1, 2013 at 8:20 am  Leave a Comment  
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#Free #Kindle #Ebook – Wolf Magic – A Romance of Witches and Werewolves in the #Twilight

From the author of the USA Today Recommended novel of lycanthropy and romance, Torn to Pieces, comes this enthralling novella of werewolf and witchTorn to Pieces_USA Today banner. Marco and Selene.He is a sexy, rebellious young werewolf whose anger and violence are legendary. She is a sexy, mature witch into whose care the elders of his pack have given Marco. At once she realizes he is more dangerous and powerful that the other werewolves. To Marco she is the most desirable woman he has ever met, and he knows he will never give up until he possesses her. As she attempts to show him wisdom, he subjects her to his very considerable charms.

Something has to give – and does. As nights of torrid lovemaking and nights of the full moon when he tears himself from her side alternate, neither suspects that they are at the center of a conspiracy by the leaders of Marco’s pack, or that they may all be pawns in an ancient prophecy from the dawn of time. For the love that binds them both is bringing death nearer with every beat of their hearts.

Marco is strong and Selene wise, but these are as nothing to the power of the danger that threatens them in this memorable paranormal romance. And don’t miss Torn to Pieces, Sascha Illyivch’s novel of two werewolves, and the woman they both love. Cover: Laura Givens.

Buy on AMAZON  – to pick this up FREE!

Never Ending Blog Tour

By Sascha Illyvich

By Sascha Illyvich

LOL!  Quite a funny thing happened when I started talking to bloggers.  Turns out, they’d LOVE to have me on their blogs so we’re doing a huge roundup and exposing what is….the Bad Boy of Romance to a larger audience.  The way I see it, the more the merrier LOL!

We’ll be talking about my 1NS books from Decadent Publishing, along with the mainstream erotic romance I’m currently going over edits for, sharing excerpts from that, my Sizzler releases and of course ENDANGERED out from Red Sage in the summer of 2014.

I think there’s a few giveaways too so you’ll want to make sure you peep the schedule often and comment.  I can’t give away books to empty entries!

So far the schedule looks like this: (Post updated as I get links)

July 8th – Heather Long
July 15- Desiree Holt
July 16 – Jessica Subject’s Mark of the Stars
July 18th – Ditterverse
July 23rd Decadent EDGE blog – The Allure of Menage!
July 26th – The Book Tart
July 27th – Deneale’s Blog!
July 29th – Decadent 1NS Blog
July 29 – Ashlyn Monroe
August 2nd – Jessica Subject
August 5th – Tara Lain’s place
August 8th – Susan Johnson (Talking  Paranormal Romance)
August 10th – Tina Donahue‘s place
August 15th – Desmond Haas
August 20th – Cerise Deland
September 9th  – The Writers Challenge
September 17th – Cindy Spencer Pape’s slot for Naughty Author Chicks!
October 8th – Nine Naughty Novelists (Pushing ENDANGERED and Torn to Pieces
October 12th – Romance Junkies
December 2nd – Jessica Subject (she REALLY likes me!)
December 4th – Liz Crowe


Published in: on July 16, 2013 at 11:30 am  Comments (4)  
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Surrender to Love – a short blog update

Livia’s guest post on Heather Long’s blog gave us some insight into the mind of the female dominant, basically from a lessons’ learned perspective and was  a lot of fun to see, wasn’t it?  I hope I’ve converted a few new readers!  You’re going to be seeing a lot more of Livia, Bruce, Siddella and others from my Decadent books online as we start off an unofficial blog tour over the coming months.

I’m looking forward to sharing with you all!



This actually came back to me a few weeks ago but I haven’t had time to schedule or even write a blog post for my own site LOL!  Yeah, I’m THAT busy.Endangered_final_fiona

Anyway, got the final cover proof for Endangered, my upcoming Red Sage release.

Drum roll please…

Ah screw it.  Cover’s the first thing you’ll see anyway!

Livía Ilona, vampire queen of San Francisco, and her lover Isabella, have kept The Syndicate and their drugs out of their territory until recently when a new boss stepped in and started making strict demands.  Tiring of their threats, Livía strikes a deal with The Syndicate’s leader to keep out of Nob Hill.  All she has to do is kill the one man who happens to be causing problems—Joséf Staganov.  Except he’s not just a troublemaking ex-cop, he’s the key to returning Livía’s human soul. 

Rogue cop turned vigilante, Joséf Staganov fights to keep The Syndicate and their drugs off the streets of San Francisco, using whatever means necessary.  Aware that his life is on a short leash, he trusts only himself until even that trust is betrayed by an operation gone bad.  Now hooked on the drugs he’s trying to eradicate, Joséf vows to take as much of the criminal organization down as possible before he dies.  Except during a fight, the Queen of the Night comes with her lover to his rescue and to abduct him. 

Capture quickly turns to seduction until Joséf learns the real reason for his kidnapping:  Recover Isabella’s boy.  The human in him still sees the good of his act, yet the beast Livía accidentally unleashes presents an all new threat.  Can the threesome recover Isabella’s son, topple the Syndicate and stop the threats on their lives?

Stick around for audio excerpts and more as we gear up for the release of the first book in the Nights of Lust series!

Decadent Buck a Book Sale – Blog Hop

Daily Dose of Decadent Blog put this out earlier in the month and I completely missed telling you about it. While my releases aren’t on this list, there are a TON of great books being discounted so be sure to follow the blog hop!


In case you need some Decadence from me:  Unedited Excerpt from my contemporary romance Paula’s Craving follows –

Paula wrapped her legs around Ryan’s hips, enjoying the strength in his body.

He thrust inside her, entwined arms cradling her close like she imagined he would.

The weight of his body blanketed hers now, his mouth fell on her.  He tasted masculine, of honey and whiskey, his aroma a heady scent mingling with their arousal.

He trailed kisses down her chin, nibbling over her flesh, making each nerve stand up and beg its turn for his affections.

She tightened her thighs around him, wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and let him fill her to the brim over and over again.

Ryan caressed her breast, pinched the nipple and took it in his mouth, forcing a moan from her.

She arched her breasts upward, loving the wet suction of his lips and the flicking of his tongue back and forth over her nipple.

He caressed her hips, drove slowly in and out, rocking his hips against hers so he hit her clit just the right way.

Tightness swelled in her belly.  Every bit of her burned for him.  She tangled fingers in his long blond hair and tried to bring his mouth to hers.

He murmured something against her breast, then licked a trail of heat up her chest, over her collarbone before finally stopping at her ear.

“Baby, I’m so glad,” she panted, “Finally!”

Ryan stopped mid thrust, stiffened against her and jerked his head up.

“What?”  She opened her eyes and met his gaze, found the fierceness and some other emotion in the depths of his blue irises.

Quickly, he masked his emotions again and began a slow, rhythmic movement that made Paula’s breath hitch.

She dug her nails into his arms, moved her hands jerkily down to grip his waist and help him thrust harder.

“So close,” she threw her head back.  “So close, come with me, Ryan.  Come with me!”

He took advantage of her open mouth and captured her lips, thrusting his tongue in at the same speed he drove his cock in.

Every movement seemed to be for her.  Hell, even after all this time apart, she swore they fit together perfectly. Ryan had been the shy one in high school but she caught onto his little game.

He’d been on her mind again.  Ryan always occupied her mind at the oddest times, providing unspoken support when she most needed it.  Then, she bumped into him at one of her local haunts and when his eyes met hers, her heart hammered.

Just the same way Ryan’s hips did against hers.

Every bit of contact against his skin wasn’t enough.  She clawed at his hips, urging him on before his final thrust sent her over the edge.

Paula stiffened, moaning his name while running her hands up Ryan’s large frame. “Come baby!”

At that moment, he did, his cock pulsing rapidly inside her.

She squeezed him harder, dug her heels into his ass while she ran her fingers through his hair and stroked him.

His breathing labored, heart pounded loudly against her chest.

Finally, he settled down and lay over her, blanketing her.

A few minutes passed.  Paula shifted, reluctantly slid Ryan out of her, tugged off the used condom and discarded it.  Someday she’d like to feel him explode inside her.  Right now, his suggestion of safe sex both warmed her heart and irritated her.

Padding over to the bathroom, she grabbed a washcloth, cleaned herself off and sauntered back to the bed in her Vegas hotel room.  Looking at Ryan’s muscular frame and the way his hair fell over his face, softening his features, made her heart flutter a little.

Slowly, she crawled back into bed beside him, felt him clutch her possessively.

A smile crossed her lips as she closed her eyes and let the sound of his even breathing send her into dreamland.

The next morning Paula woke up to an empty space beside her.  No note, no remnants, nothing.

Ryan had disappeared.

She grit her teeth and bit back tears at the thought he’d  give her an incredible time then leave without so much as a kiss goodbye.

That didn’t seem like him.  Well, actually it did but it wasn’t the real him.

No man bared his soul in bed to her like Ryan had.

Paula sat up and wiped away tears she couldn’t stop from falling, then steadied her resolve.  “You’re not getting away from me, Ryan.”

Look out soon for Paula’s Craving, coming from Decadent Publishing

First Chapter from Finding Eternity – from Bound After Midnight

1boundaftermidnight1600x2400The ties that bind are not always visible, the universal concept of love, not always seen clearly through the eyes of the wandering traveler.  This is no truer than in the case of Solan, a warrior with an unknown destiny in “Finding Eternity.” Wounded on the battlefield, his rescue by a vampire who yearns to be his proves to be too much for a man with no concept of ownership.



Light from an explosion blinded him. Another detonation rocked the ground beneath him, forcing him to his knees.  Solan gripped the hilt of his sword, pulled it from its sheath and stabbed the ground.  Using the sword for leverage, he forced himself to his feet in time to free the sword and counter the attack coming at him.

His blade connected with the other man’s and rang out, sparks flying.

“You die now, warrior.” Grunting, behemoth swung his blade at Solan.

Solan parried and jumped back.  Eyes narrowed, he focused on the weak spot in his opponent’s armor.  Dressed in leather boots, gauntlets, and clean rust colored armor, the man known simply as an Outsider heaved his sword back.  With one hand, he swung the giant blade at Solan.

Solan jumped away and charged in, swinging his sword across the Outsider’s midsection. He cut into the leather but barely scraped the skin.

The Outsider laughed and struck back, lunging at Solan, fist cocked back.

Solan took the blow to his lungs, wind whooshing out of him.  He swore bone cracked. That wasn’t good.  No hospitals in the area for at least two days journey meant he’d probably have to repair the injury himself, along with other cuts and scrapes he’d acquired in battle.

In rapid fire succession, the Outsider jumped again at Solan, thrusting sword and fist at him.

Solan leapt back and away.  Each time, the Outsider swung, wind from his attacks bit into bite into Solan’s skin.

His strength would only hold up another few minutes at best before the Outsider’s blade cut into him and tore him to pieces.

“I could keep this up,” the Outsider swung again, “for hours.  My strength is legendary.  If you’d left well alone after I brutally killed that petty human, you wouldn’t be in this position.”

Solan said nothing as he blocked the sword coming at his head.  Straining, he parried the blade away and countered with an attack of his own.

The Outsider stopped his advance, held up his free hand. Thick fingers curled and uncurled, a white ball of light formed and hovered above his palm.  Soundless energy swept up into a point, making the air crackle. Solan saw his chance.

The Outsider cocked his fist back and started to throw the light.

Solan ducked, barely missing the strike before he thrust his sword up, catching the Outsider below his ribs.  “Victory will be mine.”

Surprise slowly spread across the Outsider’s face.  He coughed blood and looked down at the new wound in his chest with wide eyes.

“You cannot heal that wound.  This blade is made from special iron and has been blessed by the Goddess Herself.  This battle,” Solan withdrew his blade, “is over.”

The ball of light dissipated into glimmers of light, disappearing and the Outsider fell to his knees, blood dripping down his chin.  Solan had cracked ribs and his blade punched through the attacker’s body completely.  Solid metal pierced the lung, silencing the wounded man.

The Outsider swung one last time.

Too close to deflect the blow with his weapon, Solan spun away in attempt to catch the blade in his weak arm.

The tip of the blade caught him, tearing deep in his flesh.

He grit his teeth, wiped sweat from his brow and looked around, scanning the barren land.  Several hundred yards from where he stood, an army made its way through what used to be lush forest and crystal clear streams.

Now, only soot and gunpowder filled the air.  The blue skies had turned gray, the ground empty, devoid of life.

Another explosion landed near him, sending him flying several feet back.  Mortar and shells fired off in rapid succession as the invaders sieged the lands and pushed back the humans attempting to defeat what Solan knew as otherworldly beings.

He had to get away.  The wound on his arm was one of many he’d acquired.

He’d lost a lot of blood.  Only dedicated skill had saved his life.  The Outsider had him outweighed by at least a good hundred pounds of solid muscle.  His skill, speed and strength combined had him in Solan’s face so using his whip remained impossible.

Two attackers forced him to leave behind his short sword.  He’d pinned them to a tree.  If he pulled the blade, they’d heal. If he left it in, they’d die in hours.

By a miracle, he still breathed.

His lungs burned inhaling smoke and death, his eyes stung, sweat ran down his forehead.  He reached into one of his kilt pockets, pulled out a rag and tore it into strips.  With difficulty concentrating, he tied the makeshift bandage around his arm.

His stomach grumbled.  He hadn’t eaten in two days.  The last village he passed through had been terribly impoverished. His warrior’s code wouldn’t let him take from those with less.

Silence echoed loudly around him, indicating the army had long moved on from this front, Solan found himself left alone with only his thoughts.

“No cut too deep,” he took a step forward.  Then another.  Dirt and gravel crunched beneath his boots.  “No road too long.  No wind too hard…”  The words came out by rote, a chant he’d heard ever since coming to consciousness one day. Strain in his voice became apparent.

Nothing around the desolate battlefield could sustain him.  With darkness setting soon, his only respite would be sleep, if he could find shelter.

The war between humans and the Other raged endlessly.

When he awoke to find the palace he called home ablaze, he knew only one thing.  Find safety, then regroup.  He’d been on the road so long that safety was no longer a priority.  He’d soon discovered the world was in a chaotic state.  The Others tried to conquer the humans, and the balance of power shifted often.

He supposed in the end, he was his own side.

Solan had to survive; he had a destiny to fulfill.

His vision blurred.  Something dug into his uncovered knees and cut his skin.

Someone yelled.

Solan realized it was his scream permeating the air.

Tears streaked down his cheeks. Failure was not an option as long as blood flowed through his veins and his heart beat.  What he wouldn’t give to end his loneliness.

Someone, something, in the air flew toward him.  A figure.  He could only make out slender features in the fog and mist before the ground came at him too quickly and he saw black.

* * * *

Something wet and warm slid across his forehead, bringing him back from unconsciousness.  Solan didn’t move, but he opened his senses.  The softness of pillows and blankets cradled his body.

“No night too dark.”

Dripping water pulled his attention to his left, before warmth of a washcloth brushed over his forehead again.

“No road too long.”

Those words.

The voice was feminine, soft, with a foreign lilt that sounded sweet to his ears.

“No wind too strong.”

A washcloth.  Reality intruded the dull haze he’d been in as muscles ached and he let out a groan.

Carefully, he opened his eyes.

“You’re awake.”

Blurred vision gave way to reveal the face of an angel.

Or a demon.

Midnight blue hair hung straight, framing an oval face. Ruby red lips meant for easing the suffering of man caused him to harden.

Her eyes seemed lifeless at first glance.

Solan stared harder into the pools of her irises, found himself sinking slowly into the depths of Krylon blue before shaking himself out of a trance.

Pain sliced through his limbs.

“Be careful.  I’ve given you something for the pain, but,” she ran a hand through her hair and he imagined what it would feel like to tangle his fingers in her long locks.

She smiled, showed tiny fangs.

He gasped, “You’re a,” he tried to move, agonizing pain cut through him. He clenched his teeth, the warrior in him refusing to scream.

Her brows furrowed together.  “Yes, warrior.  I am the undead.”

“Where did you learn those words?”

“I don’t know,” she set a washcloth back in the basin.  “They have been in my head for many years now.  I cannot remember a time when I didn’t think of them. Why do you ask?”

Solan closed his eyes.  “No reason.”

Her arm brushed against his, sending a jolt of arousal coursing through him.  Again, he grunted, more in frustration at not being able to move or react, than anything else.

“This will sting a bit, but it’s necessary to change the dressings on your shoulder.  The cuts are very deep and we had to replace a lot of what you lost.”

His eyes widened.

“No,” she shook her head, “Not with our blood.  There are willing humans who donate to us as we require in return for our protection.  The damage to your body was so great that our herbs would not cure you.”

The first time in ages he’d talked to someone who wasn’t trying to kill him and she had to be a vampire.  What did that say of his life?  “I see.”  He inhaled slowly, careful not to send another shock of pain through his system.  Exhaling was slightly more comfortable.

“When I found you, I tried to heal you with magic but the wounds wouldn’t close.  Something bad…”

“An Outsider.”  He turned his head to look at the basin and remove her pretty face from his sight.

“Yes.”  She picked up something metal, he caught the gleam of candlelight reflecting off it.  “You’re not-”

Two fingers pressed against his mouth.  “The razor is sharp.  You have bomb shrapnel in you.  I’m simply going to remove it.”

The contact of her fingers against his lips made his throat dry.  He had to have her despite her being…

“Look away, it will hurt less.”

“You don’t have medicine to numb me?”

She swiped the knife through a flame, studied the blade at eye level and blinked.  “I do not.”

Eyes wide, Solan jerked against her, sending pain lacing through his body.  His heart skipped a beat.  “You can’t bespell me?”

She shook her head from side to side.  “Sadly, no.”

His eyes met hers and he found himself getting lost in her gaze, yet it wasn’t the intentional power of persuasion screaming in his head that stole his focus.  It was just…her.

With careful attention, she brought the knife to his flesh and cut along the injured area.

Solan stared down the line of her body, jerked from the knife cutting and pain, but found he liked the way the purple dress fit her.  Large breasts spilled from the lace top. If he had to guess, the dress reached floor length and tapered at the waist.  He couldn’t move past her breasts.

Her eyes met his and her lips curled up in an appreciative smile.  Then she frowned.

“Ouch,” the sting bit into him, and his arm suddenly felt lighter.

She pulled out the metal and dropped it into a container beside her.  “Just as I suspected.   The Outsider’s blade had magic woven into the folding of steel.”

Solan arched a brow.  “You can detect magic?”

She nodded.  “There are many things not understood about our race, but the humans won’t ask. And the Outsiders seek to control us.”

“What do you want?”

Her face lit up, then a mask concealed her former joyous expression.  “We want the same thing every being wants.  Peaceful days.”

“Can you overpower the Outsiders?”

“We can.  But they outnumber us since our race is dying.”

He’d heard.  The Outsiders sought to rule and blanket the world with chaos.  Humans fought bravely but lost out due to the sheer size and strength of the typical Outsider.  Vampires didn’t appear to be a factor.  “Rumors and legends abound about your kind.”

Again, she nodded, and the light reflected off her pale skin.  Shadows danced over her flesh.  Solan swore he saw demons running over her skin but then again, he could be hallucinating.

“The spell works to slow down the opponent upon drawing blood.  It’s as though weight is added to compound the severity of your injuries.  The mind cannot process the additional weight so fast, so you end up spent before your much larger opponent.”

Slowly, Solan let out a deep breath.  “No wonder he seemed so much faster.”

“I am Katherine, by the way.”  She threaded a needle and began stitching the wound in his arm.  “Most of your other wounds I can heal with magic if you will allow.  For now, you should rest.”

Solan started to protest but the pinch of her needle stopped him.  His stomach grumbled.

“I have no doubt a fierce warrior like you needs provisions.  I shall see to it that you are fed.  Right now, we’re hoping the blood we gave you remains in your system.”

He cocked a brow.  “My body could reject your blood?”

“While our magic is strong, our knowledge of medicines and the human body is…lacking.”  Her voice dropped.  Katherine looked away.

Though it pained him, Solan lifted his left arm, grit his teeth and touched her cheek.

He had no idea her skin would be so soft.

Running the pad of his thumb along her jaw line, he turned her face toward him.  “I can only thank you for your kindness. If I can do…”

Katherine smiled.  “Your kindness is all I ask, warrior.  Do you…” she set a hand on his chest lightly, “have a name?”

Heat warmed him, hardened him.  Despite his wounds, intense desire coursed through him for Katherine.  A warrior’s name was something to share exclusively with trusted company.  Right now, Solan felt like he could trust her, even if she was one of the walking dead.  He closed his eyes, evened his breathing and enjoyed the warmth settling around him.


“Very well, Solan.  I shall love you back to full health.”

The last thing he heard was the sound of her breathing before sleep overtook him.

To read more AND find out what worlds authors Bonni Sansom and Margie Church delved into,

Purchase BOUND AFTER MIDNIGHT from Sizzler Editions

50 Gays of Shade – New Release

The cover for the highly anticipated gay Anthology 50 Gays of Shade comes out from Torquerue Press on February 13th.  Best selling author Kiernan Kelly decided to try her hand at editing and came up with this anthology, a brilliant collection of authors all writing the hottest in m/m and BDSM.

My Contribution – Into the Void – involves a dominant who let the noise of the world come crashing down on the relationship he shared with Trent, his loyal, loving 50gaysofshadesubmissive.  That is, until Shade calls and questions David’s character.

Look for the URL to purchase on February 13th!

For now, here’s the cover!

Sexual Fantasy in Romance

The stereotypical image of female romance authors writing in sexy lingerie sent my blood boiling. With that glass of wine and needed inspiration, writing erotic romance became an easy choice for me.  You should see this author at trade shows, always a drink in hand, always surrounded by sexy women and of course I only go to the sexiest, sexy parties.

Damn, wouldn’t that fantasy be nice?  It isn’t “too” far from the truth that I do tend to have a drink in hand at most conventions, more often than not, and whether it’s Cecilia Tan or one of my lovely groupies, I do tend to be surrounded by sexy people everywhere.  I must maintain my image.

Earlier this year I was in Atlanta for Frolicon, promoting myself as an author amongst the kinky crowd and it wasn’t out of place to see me with my arm around a naked woman.  Truth is, said naked woman was one of my hosts and is a nude model and actress, but that’ll be our little secret.  The fantasy I create in my erotic stories should mimic those written by authors before me and those coming after me.  And believe me, those coming after me are usually in a hurry to repeat the process…

I write to escape, I write to give escape.  I write because, what else the hell would I do?

When my publicist and agents said I should give myself a title to distinguish myself from the other three or four (straight) males in this business, I thought Hey, I can do that.  I can be the bad boy of romance.  It’s not too far a stretch, honestly.  I write hard, I play hard.  I relax, hard.  Hell, I’m always hard! 

I’m sure if I thought about it, I could probably tie in the word “hard” to one of my books from Decadent Publishing or Sizzler Editions, but even that’s hard.  Wait, I’m sensing a theme…

The point is I do this for me, I do this for you and I do this because the image of who I am is fun.  At the end of our days shouldn’t we feel like not only have we accomplished something, but accomplished something we WANTED and ENJOYED?  Writing romance gives me that.  To be honest, I’m pretty lucky and I know just how blessed I am.  But I’ll digress as the real reason you’re here is to see what’s underneath my kilt.

Go on, take a peak.  Until next time…

Dark Sensualities and Primal Instincts can be found at Amazon

Published in: on November 20, 2012 at 8:14 am  Leave a Comment  
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