But Mark and Brianna are not alone. A presence has been watching them. One fateful night, it makes its presence known. Will Mark and Brianna's love be able to survive when she's been…POSSESSED BY THE POLTERGEIST?
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
~One hundred years,~ her long-dead aunt whispered. She stopped beside Bree's chair, looking down at her as she shrank away in fear. ~One hundred years of waiting, hoping that the next generation would give birth to a woman who would not throw her maidenhood away like a broken toy. One hundred years, until you came along, Brianna. It is time. I lost my life in anger, furious that my virginity could not be given to my one true love, dead and buried half a world away. Now, through you, I will experience that joy. And if God is kind, he will allow me to leave this world to be reunited with Jimmy in Heaven.~
Brianna's throat worked, caught between pity and terror. “Wait, what?”
Mark was looking at her worriedly. “Bree, are you all right?”
She held her hands up, trying to fend off his questions and a world which was suddenly moving too quickly. Her Aunt Hazel, on the other hand, had no such qualms. As easily as she would step from one room to another, she moved towards her and let her ghostly body merge with Bree's.
~Oh, God,~ a voice sighed in her ear. ~To have a body again. And such a fair one. Thank you, Grandniece.~
To her horror, she heard her voice, sounding thick and slurred when it emerged form her lips. “Mark, I'm tired of waiting. Let's go upstairs and make love.”
Mark leaned back in his chair. His eyes, reflecting the flames of the candles on the table, were wide and panicked. “What? No. No way. Bree, what's wrong with you? You sound terrible.”
No! Her head rang with the echoes of her silent shout. I won't let you do this to me! Caught between opposing forces, her body lurched back and forth in her chair. One moment it tried to rise to its feet. The next it settled back with a thump as one woman or the other gained a momentary advantage.
Mark pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and tried to dial, his fingers shaking. He looked at the screen with disbelief as it refused to follow his commands. Swearing, he jumped up and picked up the land line, finding that completely inoperative as well.
~No electronics.~ Hazel's voice was grimly amused. ~None of the tools or toys you use in this decadent age. Only two people, and their love. And me.~No! How can you do this? How can you violate me by forcing me against my will? Have you no humanity left?
~But I need to!~ Hazel's voice wailed. ~Please! I don't know how much longer I can stay sane! You have no idea how terrible my existence is. How much I hate it. Please, I just need to make love one time, then I can move on. Would you have me become a spirit of anger and hatred, haunting this house until no one is willing to live here? Until it becomes a tottering wreck, filled with rats and vermin, fit only for a bulldozer?~
Then work with me, not against me, Brianna countered. Do you think I don't care about you? God, Aunt Hazel, you're my own blood! And if you have been watching us, you know how much Mark and I care for each other. We are in love. It was only a matter of time before I decided to give myself to him. I chose tonight. If you hadn't blighted the mood, we'd probably be in his bed right now.She took a deep breath, ignoring Mark's frantic dithering. If this is what you need to move on, I will help. But you are going to be a passenger in this body. Not its operator.
Gaelic Goddess - Thom Phelan inherits an incredibly sexy fertility goddess from his hated grandfather.
Holy Water - Charlie Schuler returns from war to reunite with a beautiful river spirit who has very erotic plans for him!
The Snow Maid - Bill Carter is rescued from certain death by an immortal nature spirit whose lusty sensuality stuns him!
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
“My parents think I'm strange, you know,” he told Lily. They were sitting companionably on the bank of the creek, tossing pebbles into the clear water, their feet dangling in the stream. The sweet smell of plum blossoms floated by them in the warm breeze.
“I wish you had let Maggie see you when I brought her here,” he continued, somewhat peevishly. “Or Mama. Then they would know you were real, and not an imaginary friend. Mama told me not to talk about you where anyone else could hear me.”
Lilaea ignored the subject, just as she did any she did not wish to discuss. “The turtles are out,” she said with a smile, pointing at three lumpy objects basking in the sun.
Charlie followed her as she turned, and the breeze brought the scent of her hair to his nose. He shifted uncomfortably. Over the past year he had been growing more and more aware of Lily's physical presence during their time together. In fact, it was now a rare day when he did not have to duck into the barn after spending time with her and bring himself to shuddering release.
Today Lily was wearing a dress which seemed to incorporate all the flowers of spring. Thousands of delicate petals were somehow woven together into a multi-hued pastel garment which clung to her body like a second skin. From his vantage point beside her, he could peek down the open neckline and see the swells of her breasts.
She turned back towards him, her eyes wicked, and he flushed crimson.
“What were you looking at, naughty little boy?”
“I'm not little anymore,” he said, stung by her tone. “I'm taller than you are now.” Indeed, that had been a day to savor last autumn, when he finally passed her in height.
Lily flipped a hand dismissively. “All little boys are the same. They all want what they can't have.”
Hardly daring to breathe, Charlie reached out his hand and took hers, their fingers entwining. “I'm not like other boys,” he said.
She turned her head and looked deep into his eyes. He sank into them, feeling as if he were drowning. She cupped his cheeks in her tan hands, the cool skin a balm on his hot face.
“No, you're not." Soft as a whisper, her lips brushed his cheek, making him burn.
But an unexpected inheritance was waiting for his grandson Thomas. An Irish goddess who Mick had ensnared decades ago showed up on his doorstep, begging him to free her from bondage.
Now Tom and Rhiannon must navigate a treacherous road. Will their growing attraction for one another allow them to part the mists of time and release her from slavery? Or will Rhiannon be bound forever, a fate worse than death for this Gaelic Goddess?
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
Tom took a deep breath. “Rhiannon, I ask that you return your body to the form that most pleases you.”
Rhiannon's head snapped back and she gave a low moan. She stumbled unsteadily to her feet, hunched around her middle, bracing one hand on the arm of the couch. As he looked on, wide-eyed, a golden glow began to form around her body, centered on her breasts and her groin. He was forced to turn away, his eyes spouting tears, the light too bright to face.
Rhiannon gave a sudden shout, piercing and clear, and with a last flash, quick as a bolt of lightning, the light went out, leaving them again in the dim light of his living room. Blinking, Tom turned to look at Rhiannon.
She was standing by the sofa, a look of astonished wonder on her face. “By all the gods above and below, I thank you, Thomas Phelan,” she said.
Face flaming, he stood and walked toward his bedroom door. This was too intense. Too private. He felt like he had stumbled across a woman giving birth, or soulmates sharing their first kiss.
He halted in his tracks.
“Thomas,” she said, her voice low and vibrant.
“Yes?” he said, but did not turn to face her.
“I would like it very much if you stayed here with me,” she said.
“Are you sure?” he said nervously.
“Very much so. Who better to witness when Rhiannon, Goddess of fertility and the harvest, reclaims part of her legacy, than the one who made it possible?”
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
“Um.” He swallowed. “I want to apologize. When I was upstairs yesterday, I opened the curtains because I hoped to see you naked.
“You have every right to tell my parents, or call the cops, or whatever else you think is appropriate.
“I’m sorry,” he finished. “I’m really, really sorry, and I will never do anything like that again. Not to you or to any other woman.”
After, a long moment, she blinked. “An apology. Well. Apparently you’re not a complete prick.” She paused, seemingly gathering her thoughts. “So, Jack.” Her tone was chilly. “Here’s the question. Were you spanking the monkey last night because you were seeing a naked woman? Or because I was naked?”
Jack didn’t need to think about it. “It was because of you.”
“Oh? Do you think I’m beautiful?” He thought he could see something stirring in her eyes.
“No,” he answered honestly. “I don’t think you’re beautiful.
“I think you’re hot.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Lots of women are beautiful. Or want to be. And they’re going to spend the rest of their lives trying to hold onto the way they look right now. And the older they get, the harder they’ll try. Eventually, they’ll be nothing but makeup and liposuction and dye-jobs and botox. I’ve seen it with my mother’s friends. It looks like their faces will crack if they smile.”
Jillian’s lips twitched, and that gave him the courage to go on. “But you, Mrs. Murphy. You don’t seem to care. I mean, you look good. But you don’t have to work at it. You have this grace, this natural flow about you. You remind me of a tiger. Or a leopard.”
“Not a cougar?” Damn it, there was a smile playing around one corner of her mouth. For the first time, he felt himself relax slightly.
“Maybe. You’re…you’re just sexy, Jillian. I’ve thought so for years. And I wanted to see you. All of you.”
“Hmm.” For a long moment, Jillian stared at him. She nodded once, abruptly. “All right. Apology accepted.”
He felt his knees buckle. “Oh, thank God,” he said. He turned for the door. “I’m sure you don’t want to see any more of me,” he said, realizing he was babbling, but unable to shut up. “I’ll see you later.”
He felt his shirt sleeve seized in an iron grip. “Oh, no you don’t.”
Her face was lit by some unnameable emotion. “I said I accepted your apology. I didn’t say that I was done with you.
“I. Own. You.
“So here’s how it’s going to be, Jack. You can walk out of here. And sometime in the next couple of days, your entire comfortable little world is going to come tumbling down around your ears. Maybe it’s an anonymous phone call to the cops. Maybe it’s a letter in the mailbox. Maybe I show up on your front doorstep, and walk to talk to your parents.
“So unless you do what I want, I ruin you.”
Jack could almost feel the blood draining away from his face. “So what is it? What do you want?”
Jillian stepped closer, so close he could almost feel the heat of her body. “Oh, don’t look so scared.
“Do you know,” she asked, one hand tracing patterns on his chest, “how long it's been since I've been in bed with a man who found me attractive? It has to be nearly twelve years.
“So here’s the deal, Jack. You show me exactly how hot you find me. And I’ll keep my mouth shut.”
He stared at her. "You're blackmailing me into sex?"
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
Grace watched as a riot of emotions chased themselves across William’s face. Confusion, understanding, a bright surge of hope, an answering darkness as he shook his head.
“I am married, my lady captain,” he said, taking refuge in formality.
Damn the man! Why did he have to be so…so honorable?
She would not, would not beg, she swore to herself. “True.” She backed away and leaned against a bulkhead, crossing her arms under her breasts, using the motion to lift them slightly. Her lip twitched as she caught William noticing. “But do you wish to go to her bed, as her husband, with this hanging over your head?
“One night, William. I offer nothing more. And nothing less.
“You say she is cold to you. I am not. I am not like my sisters. I am not drawn to them. I want…” Their eyes locked suddenly, sea-gray meeting his dark blue, like the twilight sky in the last moments before true night fell. “I want a man. I want to feel him inside me. I want muscles and strong arms and legs and something long and hard I can ride.”
She watched him lift the glass to his lips, swallowing the last of the whiskey. Slowly, he rose to his feet and set the glass aside, and she despaired, sure he was about to leave.
In two long strides, he was next to her. She gasped as she felt his arms close around her, holding her tight. She felt his head nestle against her hair, and she returned his embrace, knowing without being told his need for simple human comfort.
When they parted, his eyes were shining in the lamplight. “So,” he murmured. “How do you want to do this?”
“I want to make love to you,” she answered. She held up her hand as he tried to speak. “Not with you. To you.
“Stand over there,” she said, using her chin to point at the curtained alcove where her bunk lay. “Very good,” she smiled as he obeyed her order. She followed, looking up at him, admiring his well-made body. Even as she did, she could feel her pulse begin race excitedly, her body preparing itself for love.
Seven weeks. Seven weeks since they had left port. Seven weeks since she’d had a man. Touching herself until she gained release was not nearly enough, and even if she had been like some of the other women on the ship, who did not blink at taking female lovers, doing so would have undermined her authority.
“What-“ but she cut him off.
“I am making love to you,” she repeated. She stepped closer, running her hands over the fine cloth of his shirt, feeling the strong muscles underneath. For once she was glad William was not dressed in his customary finery. He looked very well in the clothes of a lord, but getting him out of them…
That would take far too long.
But now a new age is dawning. Rome, with its mighty military and its new gods, thinks little of the tribes of Britain. If Finian and Eilonwy are to weather the storm, they will have to learn to work together, despite their differences. And what role will Aurelia, half-blood daughter of the governor of Corinium, play in our tale? She has seen the future through the gift of her mother's people, but will she have the strength to embrace her fate?
Old foes become new allies, and desire erupts in the most unlikely of places. Because, despite all they can do, Eilonwy, Finian, and Aurelia are all caught in the web of…The Dryad's Passion.
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
“What,” she asked, “was that?”
Finian grinned up at her like a fool, his face full of a joy that echoed her own. “Humans call it an orgasm.”
“And human women…have these…orgasms…often?”
He shrugged, seemingly embarrassed, and sat back on his heels, the movement bringing more of his magnificent body into view. She eyed it with unabashed hunger. “I think they can. I don't know if they do. The woman who…who was my first lover…taught me how to please her. I am very happy that what works for women works for dryads as well, Eilonwy.”
She was suddenly consumed by a blazing fire of jealous fury. Another woman had dared to lie with her beloved? Had she taken his seed within her? Born his child?
She forced the anger away, another thought striking her. “Can…can men have this orgasm, as well?”
A lopsided smile pulled his mouth into an attractive curve. “Oh, yes. We can.”
“And how is it done?”
He made a cautious gesture towards his shaft, which was still rising proudly from its nest of pubic hair at his groin. “With your hands. Or your mouth.” She felt her eyes widen in surprise. That in her mouth? She fought back a giggle. Of course, a few moments ago, you would never have thought Finian would put his mouth where he did. And look how pleasantly that turned out.
“Or, if you allow it,” he continued, his face as red as his hair, “I could…we could…” he stuttered to a halt.
Suddenly realizing what he was trying to say, Eilonwy lay back in the grass, letting her legs sag apart lewdly. Her eyes were drawn to his groin like a flower following the sun across the sky. His male hardness bounced in time with his heartbeat. “Inside me?” she whispered. Despite everything, she felt a tiny stab of worry. How would he…gods, how would he fit?
“Yes.” Although quiet, his voice throbbed with need.
“Then come, my love,” she said, letting go of her fear and allowing her own desire fill her voice. She held out her hands to him. “Come to me.”
Calvin Smith had an ordinary life as a country vet. But the half-dead wolf he rescued turned to be a beautiful woman. Now, with their mutual attraction increasing, will they be able to reclaim Laura's place in the pack?
Dive into a world where fantasy meets reality. Where the world you know meets the world of what might be. Wolf-shifters, ranchers, veterinarians, and the ordinary people of Larkspur, Wyoming form a tantalizing backdrop for a work of fantasy erotica. Laura and Calvin's journey will thrill you as they learn what it is to truly love.
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
After showering, Laura lay in her bed, her thoughts a whirlwind.
She turned over on the narrow mattress. She ached, with an intensity which was almost painful, to be out in the wild, stalking the nightlife, hunting for a meal.
Suddenly her nostrils flared, catching a familiar scent. Familiar, but at the same time, wholly unexpected. The scent of an aroused male.
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ignore the tempting aroma, but it seeped into her mind, elusive and seductive all at once.
She swung her legs out of bed. A drink of water. That's what I need.
She walked down the hall to the kitchen, keeping her eyes away from the door to Calvin's room. She almost staggered as she passed, the scent so strong it took all her control to keep herself from flinging it open.
She pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge and leaned back against the door, drinking thirstily. It had been too long since she'd had a man. During her last weeks with the pack, Graham had been too worried to make love often.
I bet Cal wouldn't be like that. He's only twenty-seven. He could be my lover for decades.
She sank to the floor, suddenly tempted to burst into tears. Why does God hate me so much? I didn't ask for any of this. Every time I have a tiny slice of happiness it gets taken away from me.
Her fists clenched, and it took all of her self-control to stay in human form. She wanted nothing more than to shift and to run. Run up into the mountains and kill something small and helpless to fill the emptiness inside her.
Instead she capped the bottle of water and shoved it back in the fridge, and trudged back towards her room. But as she passed Cal's room for the second time, her dark-accustomed eyes caught a glimpse of movement. Her head turned, and she stopped, motionless.
Oh, my God. He's beautiful.
Eyes closed in silent reverie, he lay on his bed, nude, his pale skin glowing in the moonlight. He seemed to shine silver, as if captured moonlight was gleaming through his flesh. One hand was clasped around his rigid shaft, slowly stroking. The other hand held a small wad of tissue, and even through the sudden jolt of lust, she couldn't help but give a tender smile.
Her voice, when she heard it, startled even her. “You're driving me crazy, you know.”
She slowly stalked into the room, letting him see her body. Her breasts swayed slightly with her sensual strut. “Do you think you could jack off and not have me realize what you were doing?” She bent over the bed. She whispered, “Who were you thinking of, Cal? Some bimbo on TV?”
His throat worked as he swallowed. “It was you,” he whispered. “You're the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life. I can't...I can't stop thinking about you.”
She let her lips curve in a slow smile and set her hand on the inside of Calvin's thigh. Inch by inch, it crept up until her palm was pressing against his scrotum. Calvin eyed her nervously, and she knew what he was thinking. Had his declaration touched her? Or had it insulted her to the point where she would crush his testes in her hands?
“Thinking of me, were you?” She let her voice fill with quiet menace.
“Quiet. You're playing a dangerous game, Calvin Smith. And you don't even know the rules.” She let her hand slide up his length. Oh, it was lovely. “Did you know,” she went on conversationally, her hand now stroking him, “that wolves mate for life?”
~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~
The angel sighed, shaking her head. “I cannot understand.” She raised her eyes to meet Althea's. “I do not fault you. A child is not responsible for her birth. But what your father did, taking a human wife and siring children on her. I cannot comprehend defying God's will in such a fashion.”
“Can you not?” Althea cocked her head curiously. “It's not that strange, you know. Lilith, my mother, had been cast out of the Garden for having the audacity to not submit to Adam's rule. And my father had been thrown out of heaven for daring to question God's will.
“Was it any surprise that when they met, they each found a kindred spirit in the other? And I am sure it made their love all the sweeter.”
“The danger.” She set Lillian down in the stroller. The sleeping infant gave an inelegant burp, and nestled down in her bed of blankets. Under the pretense of feeding John, she slipped the other strap of her dress off her shoulder, not bothering to raise the first. Now naked to the waist, she took her son from Doriel's arms. She sighed contentedly as her son's mouth closed around her nipple and her milk began to flow.
“Someone is going to see you,” Doriel observed. Her voice was low, but her eyes were wide at her shameless display.
“No one will notice who I don't want to notice. I am a succubus. I have more than enough power to hide us from prying eyes.” Little John was not very hungry. After only a minute or two of nursing, he turned his head away from her breast. She extended her thought into his mind, already going drowsy. He was well-content, warm and loved and with a full belly. She set him down beside his sister, hiding a smile. The two were always happier when they were close; a situation Althea was sure would continue into their adulthoods.
“You cannot know what it is like, Doriel. When you are doing something you know is forbidden. The rush of excitement throughout your body.” She set a hand on the angel's thigh, feeling the slow burn of heat begin in her middle. Did she dare? Could she dare? She leaned close, catching her eyes with her own. She did not try to use her powers. Only the most basic one of all. Her own beauty.
“It rushes through you, making an activity which is pleasant into an ecstatic one. When I am bedding Yasna, or Alex, or Maria, or best of all, some combination of them, along with my other wives and husbands, I know there are thousands, millions of humans who would disapprove. Who would condemn our love as unnatural or evil.”
The hem of the dress had ridden high as she spoke, gathered in her grasping fingers. She pushed it even higher, exposing the lovely lines of Doriel's thighs. Her skin was softer and smoother than silk. “Father told me what sex was like, among the angels,” she whispered. “Almost an art of its own. But is there passion? Is there true desire? Is there the sense of spitting in the face of death itself, knowing our days are numbered, and each crumb of happiness we seize is a candle lit in defiance of the darkness?”
Doriel shook her head. Althea could feel her trembling. “No. There is not.”
God, she was soaking. She was as wet as she had ever been for Rachel, or Maria, or Yasna. Or her wonderful husbands, for so she considered them in her own mind. She knelt in front of the angel, parting her thighs. “Let me show you,” she said, pulling down a fragrant wisp of underwear.
“Let me show you.”