Sneak Peek: The Soul Retrieval by Ann W. Jarvie

[I thought this book sounded really interesting. And the author is giving away a $75 gift certificate as part of her blog tour! ~ Lisabet]

Blurb

Inspired by a true story, The Soul Retrieval is a suspenseful tale of love, loss and healing which follows traumatized southern beauty Henrietta Clayborn as she moves between her home in a small South Carolina town and the New Mexico Native American reservation whose spontaneous healings keep drawing her physician husband back. Tortured by her awful secrets, Henrietta struggles to thrive in either locale, but it is her unlikely friendship with Joe Loco––an eccentric Native American mystic with an Elvis fetish and a gift for healing––that shows her the way to be whole again.

Set in the late 1950s, The Soul Retrieval is richly woven with spiritual insights but also deadly secrets, forbidden healings, a murder mystery, stunning scenery and an unforgettable cast of characters.

A story of transcendent and inspiring power that is both entertaining and enlightening, readers will be cheering for the uptight woman from South Carolina to push through her fears of the forbidden as she searches for truth and healing, faces great obstacles on the frontier of self and ultimately becomes more than she ever thought possible.

Excerpt

“It’s just as Bear foretold,” the Apache said. He closed his eyes and moved his hands in small circles with palms out. “The fire’s burning, but no one’s home in your teepee.”

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t feel like yourself, you’re feeling vacant and disconnected, like something’s missing.” Joe spoke as he opened his eyes.

She gaped at him in stunned silence before whispering: “How … why would you say something like that?” Henrietta’s heart thumped in her chest as she nervously glanced toward the living room. Her husband was still talking on the phone.

“Your soul speaks volumes through your eyes.”

“You see something in my eyes?” And she rubbed them again with her handkerchief.

“I see what was there, what should be there, but is not now.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m fine. My eyes were just watering, that’s all.” She winced, knowing that it wasn’t true, hating that she’d become such a liar.

“It’s okay, I’m here to help,” Joe said. He placed his folded hands on the table after sitting down.

His smile and disarming empathy surprised Henrietta, but she wasn’t going to be moved by what seemed like a sweet and insightful gesture. Joe Loco was absolutely the last person in the world she’d choose to confide in.

…

“Don’t worry. It’s obvious your soul has fragmented and is in need of repair,” Joe said with a calm certainty, as if it was an everyday matter to be dealt with.

“What?” Henrietta put her hands down and stared into space, bewildered by his words. In the quietude, the sizzle of the frying eggs and bacon filled the room like a choir of rattlers. My soul has what? When she looked again at Joe, planning to demand exactly what he meant, his eyes were closed, and he was whispering and holding his palms up as though in prayer.

So she placed the cooked food on a plate, poured a glass of milk and put both down in front of him. He opened his eyes and smiled up at her.

“That’s one of the strangest things I’ve ever heard—a soul fragmenting,” she said. “How would something like that even be possible?”

“It can happen when we believe or experience something bad we don’t want to face.” He took a bite of eggs and grits, closing his eyes again to savor the combination. “Oh, this is yum-yum,” he said.

When he looked up, it was Henrietta who was staring.

“The good news is that lost soul fragments can be recovered and healed. It’s not hard, if you know how, if you know the secret,” Joe said.

“Are you saying you know how to do that? That you know the secret?”

“The Great Spirit works hitherto and I work.”

She crossed her arms. “So what are you, some kind of soul repairman?”

About the Author

Ann W. Jarvie has a B.A. in journalism and more than twenty-five years’ experience as an award-winning writer in advertising and public relations agencies, both in South Carolina and Chicago. She now lives near Phoenix, Arizona, where she spends part of her time as a freelance copywriter and the rest writing fiction.

The Soul Retrieval was inspired by Jarvie’s maternal grandmother’s fascinating life on Indian reservations, where she lived with her physician husband until his mysterious and untimely death.

www.annwjarvie.com

https://twitter.com/annjarvie1

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Enter Ann's giveaway at the other sites on her tour, and increase your chances of winning! 

http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2015/03/sbb-soul-retrieval-by-ann-w-jarvie.html

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Get the Stone Hard SEALs Duet NOW at a discounted price!

By Sabrina York (Guest Blogger)

Last summer, Hot Alpha SEALs took the book world by storm, getting rave reviews for this collection of scorching military romances, and earning spots on the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists.

Ryder’s story was such a hit, readers asked to read Drake’s story as well. Here, now, for the first time, are BOTH adventures!

The duet (a full length novel) will retail for $2.99, but I wanted to offer it at a discounted price during preorder for those of you who  have read Ryder’s story and have been waiting so patiently for Drake. This is a great deal as well for your friends who missed the Hot Alpha SEALs Collection and are new to this exciting read.

Release Date: April 9, 2015

PREORDER NOW

Don't forget to enter to win the Stone Hard SEAL Tiara below!

Tell your friends!

Book One: Ryder

A hostage rescue mission turns Ryder “Stone” Maddox’s world on its ear when he comes face-to-face with his greatest fear: A woman he cannot resist. But he has to resist Lily Wilson. He’s vowed never to fall in love. Besides, as the daughter of a senator, she is definitely off-limits. Lily sees things differently. Irresistibly drawn to this hot, hard SEAL, she is determined to prove they belong together…and that her man does not have a heart of stone.  (Originally published in the NYT and USA Today Bestselling Hot Alpha SEALs collection)

Book Two: Drake

Drake Ronan is all man—a rock hard SEAL who doesn’t need help from anyone. Doesn’t need anyone. But when he’s shot during a dangerous rescue mission, and has to rely on a beautiful nurse to survive, he realizes he has to rethink his resolution. Suddenly he can’t imagine his life without Brandy in it. It’s a damn shame she has a secret that could ruin everything.

Excerpt

“Are you hungry?” He asked because her belly growled loudly enough to attract pirates on the mainland.

“A little.” She licked her lips. “But I’m really thirsty.”

He pulled out the straw of his CamelBak and leaned forward, holding it to her lips. He should have shuttled off all his gear and just handed the damn thing to her because when she leaned in close and he got a whiff of her, he nearly passed out. You would think a woman who had been held prisoner by filthy pirates for nearly a week would smell bad. She did not. She smelled like heaven. There was a light musky odor of sweat—it was hot in the tropics—but it twined with something that was essentially female.

He’d never felt such hunger. It screamed through his soul.

And, on top of that, their faces were close. And she was sucking on the nozzle. And fuck. He was a warrior. A trained weapon. On a mission.

This was no time for a hard on.

But he was hard. Damn hard.

Her lashes flickered as she glanced up at him; she moaned as she swallowed. A shiver walked down his spine. Walked right down his spine and coiled in his balls.

When she sat back with a sigh, he put the nozzle to his lips as well. Not because he was particularly thirsty, but because he wanted a taste of her mouth, while it was still fresh.

What he really wanted was to kiss her. But she was the senator’s daughter and he was a grunt. That wasn’t going to happen. It couldn’t.

“Did…did you say something about food?” Damn lashes. Fluttering again. He had the urge to grab his Gerber and snip them off.

He pulled an MRE from a pocket on his left leg, read the label, and grimaced. He hated the meatloaf. He should have paid more attention when he prepped his gear. He had more in his pack, but this would do for now. “I have this.”

Her nose wrinkled as she studied the silver foil.

Yeah. Wait ’til she got a taste. He ripped open the packet, broke off a piece, and handed it to her. It was messy, because of the gravy, but he didn’t want to unload everything to find an implement. They needed to eat and go.

She took a bite. Her eyes widened. “Yuuum,” she said in an unconvincing tone.

It was all he could do to hold back his laugh.

“What…” She swallowed heavily. “What is this?”

“An MRE.”

“What does that stand for?”

His lips quirked. “Meals Rarely Edible.”

Her brow wrinkled, and then she laughed.

And ah, what a laugh. A melodic trill. Some kind of sound he figured you might hear in heaven.

“Do you eat these often?”

“Not if I can help it.” He shoved a chunk in his mouth and fired it back. “But we have a long way to go today, and these have a lot of calories.”

She froze, a niblette of mystery meat halfway to her mouth. “How-how many calories?”

“About twelve hundred a meal.”

She gaped at him. “Twelve hundred?” She glared at the meatloaf as though it were made of turds. Then again, it might have been. “And you gave it to me? To eat?”

“Yeah. You’ll need it.”

“Why didn’t you warn me?” She smacked him. It was like being batted by a kitten. “Twelve hundred calories is my whole day!”

He grinned. He could burn that much with a good fart. “Perfect. It’s probably all you’ll get. Eat up.”

“For twelve hundred calories, I could have eaten a cheesecake.”

He looked around for the cheesecake.

She shoved her tiny chunk of meatloaf at him. “Here, you eat it.”

He pushed it back. “You eat it. We have a lot of ground to cover today.”

“We do?” She tipped her head to the side. “Where are we going?”

“There’s an island to the south.” He grabbed a stick and sketched out a quick map. “We’re here. At the north end of this island. And the secondary extraction point is here.”

Her throat worked. “How will we get to the other island?”

“Swim.”

She paled. “I-I can’t swim.”

It was probably rude to stare. But really? She couldn’t swim? Who couldn’t swim? “You never wanted to learn?”

“Oh, I wanted to.” She sighed. “My mother was afraid I would drown.”

“Not drowning is kind of the point of swimming.”

“She wanted to keep me safe.” He didn’t miss the exasperation in her tone. “I didn’t get to do a lot of things. Which is probably why— And wouldn’t you know it? The first time?” She gazed at him as though she’d finished a sentence. As though he’d understood a bit of what she’d said.

“Well, don’t worry. We’ll get you home safe. And then everything will be just the way it was before.”

Her sudden frown mystified him.

PREORDER NOW! Arrives April 9th

ARE:https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-stonehardseals-1767628-153.html

KOBO: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/stone-hard-seals

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Stone-Hard-SEALs-Sabrina-York-ebook/dp/B00V7JWF4C/

Read reviews of Ryder's story: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22591884-hot-alpha-seals

About Sabrina York

Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy readers. Her titles range from sweet & snarky to scorching romance.  Connect with her on twitter @sabrina_york, on Facebook or on Pintrest. Check out Sabrina’s books and read an excerpt on Amazon or wherever e-books are sold. Visit her webpage at www.sabrinayork.com to check out her books, excerpts and contests. Free Teaser Book: http://sabrinayork.com/home-2/sabrina-yorks-teaser-book/ And don’t forget to enter to win the royal tiara!

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Sunday Snog #167: The Eyes of Bast

It’s Sunday Snog time once more. As you might expect, I’ve got a sensational, sensual kiss from my new release The Eyes of Bast.

When you’re done with my snog, head back to Victoria’s place for more amazing kisses from your favorite authors.

Before I could stop him, he was standing in front of me, looming over me. I had no sense of threat, though. I caught the heady scent of male sweat, woven with the sharpness of crushed vegetation. I felt the warmth radiating from his body. I felt his power, sheathed, hidden, bubbling beneath the surface.

“You’re blocking the door, Shaina. You’ll have to move if you want me to go.”

Wordless, lost in the storm of emotion swirling through me, I stepped aside. He flipped open the deadbolt.

“Goodbye, beautiful one.”

“No…”

I didn’t intend to speak. The one-word plea emerged without any conscious decision. I reached for him, grasping his arm to hold him back. Some part of me knew that I shouldn’t, couldn’t allow him to leave.

Electricity shot through my arm, sizzled down my spine and ignited in my sex. I gasped.

“You feel it too, don’t you?” With one finger, he tipped my face toward his. His eyes were emeralds set in ebony. They were so familiar—I knew this stranger—recognized him at some fundamental level below rational thought.

Heat hummed through me, rippling out from that tiny spot on my chin where our skin met. I was acutely aware of my bare flesh under the thin cotton, my nipples gathered into tight, throbbing knots, my thighs damp with fluid leaking from my cleft.

I held his gaze, allowing him to see the raw need he inspired. I was totally naked, open, silently inviting him to take me.

He bent to me. His breath warmed my cheek as I held my own in anticipation. Then his lips met mine and reality exploded into a riot of lush sensation. Colors flared around us, scarlet, vermillion, grass-green, velvety jet. A thousand scents teased my nostrils—the sweetness of fallen blossoms and ripe earth, summer-baked hay and rust-tinged water running over smooth stone. Sparks danced across my skin and burrowed beneath, racing through my blood to swell and soak me.

Just the chaste press of his closed lips had this effect. When he opened to slide his tongue into my mouth, a fever swept over me. I grabbed him, wrapping my arms around his back, plastering my body against his, mashing my hungry breasts against his solid chest. I wanted total contact. The parts of me that weren’t touching him felt lost, abandoned. A rigid bulk prodded my belly. I squirmed against him, thrilled by the promise of that hardness.

His tongue flicked across mine, rougher than I’d expected. He devoured me as though he was starved, gnawing on my lips then plunging deep inside. I felt every move in my pussy, as if that agile tongue rasped over my pulsing clit instead of my palate. My nipples were so tight they hurt. I ground my pubis against him, already trembling on the edge of orgasm.

Magic Matched: Betrothed

By Lola White (Guest Blogger)

Witches, Wiccans and Pagans are not exactly the same thing, though many who don’t belong to either of these groups might use the terms interchangeably—but no! I’m not listing every modern ‘witch’ community here because this post is about MY witches, and they are fictional.

But even fiction needs to be based in fact, so—armed with a liberal-arts education in politics and religion, some real-world experience and the knowledge shared by several Wiccan friends—I did my research. Not on general neo-paganism, but on witchcraft, and what I could make of it.

We all know tons of witchcraft history. Witch hunts and witch trials, burning at the stake and drowning in the rivers, pacts with the devil or born with a natural talent, casting spells or raising the dead, flying on broomsticks or transporting their spirit through astral projection, hags and sorceresses… or simple village wise-women striving to combat disease with herbs. Religious texts of nearly every faith share some opinion on witchcraft, which proves that the concept is one of the oldest known to mankind—which isn’t that surprising, really. Even today, witchcraft is something mystical, magical, fearful…

Uppermost in my mind, when I set out to write about my witches, was the day I arrived in the African village I called home for years. The villagers beheaded a woman for ‘bewitching’ someone. As far as I know, that was the only death sentence passed down while I was there, but there were many other cases of witchery brewing (pun intended?) and some were fantastical—a man claimed to have been turned into a dog for years by a witch, children were exorcised and blessed to stop them from being witches… I could go on, but I won’t.

My research of witchcraft naturally led to researching witch hunts. With my first-hand experience urging me on, I found out that a lot of places are still actively pursuing witches—who are still predominantly thought to be women, though men are not completely excluded. For the purposes of my story, I narrowed my focus to Europe, North America, Africa, India… and then threw in some Japanese mythology.

I took pieces of many traditions and beliefs and mixed in real history and politics. I created a society that exists amidst modern-day reality—hidden, of course, to prevent more witch hunts—and constrained by ancient rules. With so much focus on female witches, my society originated as a matriarchy, but I twined fictional events with real history so that men (males) waged war to gain power, and now the witching world is divided into matriarchal and patriarchal covens. In my witching society, magic and politics are the only things that matter, and marriages are arranged for advantage rather than love.

Magic Matched is a four-part series that follows Silviu Lovasz, a patriarchal witch, and Georgeanne Davenold, a matriarchal witch, who must open their hearts to each other in order to unlock their full magical potential. They both have rare talents, which prompted their families to reach across the divide between the covens and betroth them as children, with the hopes that the pair could attain positions of power in their society.

Betrothed is the first book in the series and weaves together two stories. After a ten-year separation that left Georgeanne distrustful of Silviu, and Silviu hungering for Georgeanne’s return, they reunite in Poland, at Silviu’s sister’s betrothal celebration. Georgeanne is the key to Silviu’s rise to power, but she is fighting to gain her own power, in her own coven and he is a threat to her personal ambitions.

Ileana Lovasz is a pawn, with a string of broken betrothals to prove it, and she’s willing to use her body to escape her manipulative grandfather, and gain an edge for Silviu’s political goals. Eliasz Levy has every intention of forming an alliance with Silviu and marriage to Ileana is an ideal way to get what he wants. But when the new couple meets, emotions they never expected change everything.

Ileana, Eliasz, Silviu and Georgie must build an alliance that will help them all get what they want but, with too many lies and too many enemies, the game they’re playing turns deadly. When the two women come under attack, neither Silviu nor Eliasz knows which is the target. They only know they will protect the women their hearts have claimed as their own, even though that means defying the traditions of witching society, risking every goal they hold dear and confronting the dangerous members of their own families.

Betrothed is now available for early download through Totally Bound and will be found everywhere else on April 24^th. Enter the witching world and follow Silviu and Georgeanne as they gather allies for their cause, and learn the true strength behind their magic.

My name is Lola White, and I write any story that happens to haunt me at the time. You can find me at my website, www.lola-white.com and get Betrothed at https://www.totallybound.com/betrothed

Thank you Lisabet for letting me be your guest, and congratulations on your own release, The Eyes of Bast, also through Totally Bound.

Out Today! The Eyes of Bast (comment and win!)

My shapeshifter erotic romance The Eyes of Bast is finally available for early download from Totally Bound. This may be the purest romance I’ve written. It’s got a fabulous villain, too. 

 

Trust your heart. Follow your dreams.

Shaina Williams' grandmother bequeathed her that wisdom, along with a old pendant from the Islands, carved from an ocelot's tooth. When instinct tells Shaina to visit the feral cat trap she'd set in Central Park, she listens to that inner voice, She discovers she's caged a magnificent black tom, but the cat inexplicably vanishes after she tends to his wounds. Seeking the errant feline, Shaina encounters instead a handsome stranger whose slightest touch sets her body on fire. As the day dawns after a night of ferocious passion, her mysterious lover is forced back into his true shape - the tomcat she'd rescued.

Born a cat, Tom was transformed into an unwilling shape shifter by a sorceress who craved a human plaything to satisfy her perverse lusts. Centuries old and irresistibly powerful, Delphine Montserrat will stop at nothing to find her runaway familiar. Shaina vows to do whatever is necessary to defeat the vicious but seductive witch and save the man she believes is her soul mate – even though it might mean losing him forever. 

* * * * 

I’ve got an excerpt for you below. Leave a comment telling me what you think and I’ll enter you into a drawing for a free copy! Don’t forget to include your email address so I can find you.

Excerpt

Tom finally broke the kiss and leaned back with a sigh. “Ah, Shaina! I should never have allowed you near me. But I was so very lonely... I wasn’t thinking straight. Now I’ve put you in danger too.”

“Danger? What kind of danger?” I reached over to flick the switch on my reading lamp, so I could read his expressions. Then I seated myself cross-legged at his feet and clasped his hands in mine. “Tell me, Tom. Tell me everything.”

“You will not believe me.”

“How could I not believe after – after what I saw this morning?”

His brows knotted together. “I never wanted you to see – I was careless...”

“But I did see. And now I know, at least something about you. But I don’t know enough to help you out of whatever trouble you’re in. Tell me the whole truth. I promise I’ll keep it private, if that’s what you want. And I promise I won’t be shocked.”

Tom’s lush mouth twisted in a grimace of disgust. “You might not be able to keep that promise. But never mind. You’ve asked. I’ll tell you.”

He stared off into the distance, above my head. “I was born in a small town in coastal Maine, about seven years ago.”

“Seven years...?”

“I was born a cat.”

I choked down my cry of surprise. How could it be...?

“Yes. I was born under a wharf. I spent the first six months of my life as a black kitten, a stray living off the scraps from the fishing boats and clam shacks. Then she caught me and made me her prisoner.”

“She?”

“I don’t even want to utter her name. There’s danger in the very word. She is a witch, centuries old, a practitioner of the darkest arts – the epitome of evil. Out walking one evening along the rocky shore, she caught sight of me and wanted me as her familiar. It was easy for her to lure me into her clutches.

“At first she just used me to facilitate her spells. The rumored powers of black cats are more than just legend. Before long, though, she began to experiment.”

His ominous tone sent a chill through my naked body. I pulled the towel around me.

“You see, her advanced age hadn’t diminished her lust. Quite the opposite. She wanted a sexual plaything, someone she could use to satisfy her perverted desires. A male body she could own and control. So she delved into her books of magic, seeking a spell that would turn her poor innocent feline familiar into a man – at least when she wanted him that way.

“Her first attempts failed.” Tom shuddered at the recollection. “She barely managed to save my life. I guess she’d grown fond of me at that point – in her own twisted way.”

“Oh, Tom...”

“Finally, she found a ritual that would change an animal into a human during the hours when the sun was banished from the earth. I’ll never forget the terror of that first transformation, when I found myself wobbling on two legs in front of her naked body. It was even worse than what came after.”

“What was that?”

“Oh, Shaina – I was human, but scarcely a man. I was barely thirteen.” 
 

Get your copy of The Eyes of Bast today!

https://www.totallybound.com/the-eyes-of-bast

And don’t forget to enter the contest!

Taboos

By Lacey Reah (Guest Blogger)

Today, I’m honored to be a guest of the sultry and eloquent Lisabet. I only hope that what I have to say is deserving of this spot. Today I reflected on the whole notion of taboos and I was thinking that it is a writer’s duty to tackle them. What are taboos?

These are things that are forbidden. We aren’t supposed to utter them, yet they exist and because we are not allowed to talk about them, they shall always exist in darkness.

Taboos find power in silence. You don’t talk about them because to mention them would take away someone else’s power. Whether it’s the blue code of silence, the disapproval of union workers to let their bosses critique their productivity, the inability of a subordinate to critique his boss or the threat of an abuser not to tell anyone else, silence protects someone else’s power.

Sometimes a taboo is the elephant in the room no one is allowed to acknowledge. Other times, it is a turn on that can’t be mentioned lest it incites us to discover our passions. And we all know what society thinks of unbridled and uncontrollable passion. Lord forbid, a piece of writing or work of art uncovers a deep part of the psyche that makes us dream, makes us desire or drives us to act. The last thing our captors want is for us be moved by something. Best we not mention anything that takes us out of our conditioned, mundane world.

Tackling taboos is the greatest purpose of reading and writing. We must always bring out what is hidden and expose the truth, the lies, or even the great depths of our imagination. There is something enslaving about a culture that thrives on silence, that preaches political correctness and puts boundaries on how and what is to be said. Such a culture is one that wants us to be robots and can’t accept that we are who we are.

Bene Brown said,“Courage is a heart word. The root of the word courage is cor - the Latin word for heart. In one of its earliest forms, the word courage meant "To speak one's mind by telling all one's heart." Over time, this definition has changed, and today, we typically associate courage with heroic and brave deeds. But in my opinion, this definition fails to recognize the inner strength and level of commitment required for us to actually speak honestly and openly about who we are and about our experiences -- good and bad. Speaking from our hearts is what I think of as "ordinary courage.”

According to the dictionary of etymology, the word was initially used in Middle English for “’what is one’s mind or thoughts, hence ‘bravery, but also ‘wrath, pride, confidence, lustiness,’ or any sort of inclination.”

When we tackle taboos we are freeing our readers from isolation. We are letting them see the light, allowing them to be themselves and giving them the “courage” to tell their own story, in any way they see fit so keep writing and reading whatever compels you.

Fireflies by Lacey Reah

Blurb

Linda is a calculating, career-driven woman whose perfect world is shattered when she is seduced and transformed by a vampire-like creature called a nymphomite. Linda becomes a beast, feeding off the energy of orgasmically-charged blood. Convinced that her humanity has faded away, Linda adapts to her new instincts of hunger and sex. She hunts women primarily, for their longer and more frequent orgasms, and becomes a master of prolonging and intensifying their pleasure. But she never expected to find a woman like Jesse, and Linda's decision to spare her life instead of feed off her leads to a shocking turn of events that will make Linda question her beast-like identity and the humanity she thought she had lost.

Excerpt

“Okay, show me,” I say. I’m in the mood for some kind of adventure. I feel the full moon on me and I am restless and alive. I am not as anal as Pierre thinks I am. I’m quite daring when I see an opportunity, and Natasha is an opportunity. An opportunity for something new, something to add to my sexual experiences.

Not that I am dissatisfied at all with my love life. Pierre is the quintessential Latin lover. He’s funny and smart and interesting and thoughtful and romantic. He has the best body. Sure, he has the usual bulging biceps and toned chest that we expect in a good-looking male, all due to fifteen years of playing soccer nonstop since he was five years old. He has a uniquely well shaped ass that cannot be compared to any other. He has a thick penis with a full head that gives me hours of pleasure. He can pound and thrust and gently glide it. He can shoot it like a machine gun and he gives the greatest oral pleasure I’ve ever had. Pierre serenades me with romantic songs in three different languages, just like Julio Iglesias. If I’m cranky, he brings me chocolates and provides me with endless massages. He is never angry, but can be feisty enough in bed to bring out my wild side. Yet he can be soft and sensuous, teasing and sultry. He is loyal. He worships me. Pierre’s well, perfect. Ugh, that word again. Maybe I want to rile things up a bit. If I bring in another woman the result may not be as hot as I have imagined it. It might add strife to our perfect world. Maybe that’s what I want. It would give me something to work on, something to fix.

We walk together, through the many paths of the park. After a while, I have no clue where I am anymore so I rely on her to lead the way. Pierre will be worried. No, Pierre has probably fallen asleep by now. I can imagine the look on his face if I actually succeed in taking Natasha home with me. It would be worth the wait for him, and the thought of seeing the look he will give me urges me to trudge on and not look back.

“Up here,” she says and proceeds to climb a series of rocks up a hill. She is wearing nothing but flip-flops yet can spring from rock to rock with the grace of a mountain lion. I feel awkward in my cloggy sandals and the little black dress which I threw on just for my night walk. “Over here,” she says as she waits for me to catch up.

“I don’t see anything,” I respond.

“They are only attracted to certain things. Sit down with me and I’ll show you how to call them over.”

She pats the rock next to her and I awkwardly lower myself onto the seat she has made for me. I feel awfully close to her and can actually feel the heat and energy emanating from her muscles. Suddenly, I feel her grab my silky hair and pull my lips towards her. Her lips are full and luscious, like two of the softest cushions I have ever felt. Her tongue is long and slithery as it probes every section of my mouth. I cannot resist her. Am I cheating? Pierre is nowhere in sight. She’ll meet him eventually. This is a good thing.

She skillfully runs her strong soft hands over my breasts, arousing me in that sensitive area. I find myself moaning, surrendering to the dexterity of her fingers. My nipples grow harder and she pinches them in a way I have never felt before. Where am I? I don’t know where I am. She has me trapped here. What is going on? “I thought we came here to see some creatures,” I gasp.

“They are coming. They only respond to this. Surrender. Surrender. I can take you to places no one else has ever taken you. I will shatter your world,” she whispers, almost hissing in her intensity.

She kisses me aggressively and presses me against her round, free breasts. Her right hand creeps down my abdomen and down my inner thigh. She rubs it gently and reaches higher and higher. I feel myself pushing my hips towards her, wanting to rub myself against her in any way I can but she shoves me hard against the rocks. She gently sneaks her hand into my underwear and inserts her finger inside me. I immediately squeeze my walls around her. She removes her wet finger and starts to pinch and rub my clitoris. I can feel the wetness of her finger. It is soothing and hot. I feel the heat rising in me and I start to throb within as she rubs me faster and faster. My eyes are closed now but when I open them, I am in the midst of an orgasm. She is glowing brighter than ever. Maybe it is just the result of my state of sexual climax that makes me think so, but I swear she is glowing. She is in some kind of trance as I throb uncontrollably. It won’t stop. I want more. I can orgasm hundreds of times while having sex. I know it’s a girl thing but I’ve been told that I do it more than most women.

In the midst of my moaning I do not hear them, but now I see them appear. They also glow with pale flawless features. Their red eyes are wide with hunger. They gaze at me but keep their distance. Natasha looks up fiercely. She hisses at them and they step back. They are beautiful with wild hair and they all move like she does. I climax harder as I witness the sight of these women. They all look highly aroused but they hesitate to come close.

Then I look up at Natasha and I see the flaw, that unknown flaw that has teased me since I first saw her smile. She opens her mouth and I see her razor-sharp canines, but before I can think anything else, she sinks them into my neck. I flinch at first but my love for her overrides my fighter reflexes. The pain of her bite only fuels my throbbing organ and I can feel the wetness drip all over my thighs as she rubs me. Just when I think I have climaxed, she brings me even higher and I stay here, lost in a world of psychotic bliss. I am screaming now and the others approach. She is busy drinking my blood, sucking with all her might. She continues to rub me enthusiastically as I come and come again and again.

Buy at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Fireflies-Lacey-Reah-ebook/dp/B005EHJYYW/

About Lacey

Lacey Reah has worked as a teacher, a fitness and yoga guru, a healer, an actress and a writer. She has traveled the globe, living in major cities such as Manilla, Sydney, Los Angeles and New York; working odd-ended jobs such as retail sales and being a paid physic. Wherever she has gone, she has taken every opportunity to track every key point of her life and document it. So much has happened in her life and with heavy bouts of sleep apnea that it is difficult to discern the reality from the fantasy. She is on a lifetime search for truth.

http://laceyreah.blogspot.com/

What is it about werewolves that makes us squirm?

By Naomi Bellina (Guest Blogger)

Paranormal romance is a popular genre. Those who read it love everything from vampires to angels, from demons to fairies. Bring on the supernatural hotties. Why do we crave these mysterious creatures and their worlds? For me, it's nice to think there are beings out there, other than boring old humans. Life can get dull and often painful and at the end of the day, it's nice to escape to a whole different world where anything can happen. Yep, that's right. In a paranormal story, the laws of reality don't apply. Which is one reason it's so much fun to write! The only limit is my imagination.

I'm working on a series about werewolves and werecats and I wondered, why do we find these beasts so sexy? There must be a reason we're so drawn to these creature who are human but can shift to a wild animal. Here are my top five reasons to love werewolves:

1. We can be as wild as we want with a werewolf. Since they run around on all fours and hunt small animals, anything we do will be tame compared to that. Leaving our underwear on the floor, burping, yelling across the house to each other, letting the leg hair grow long in the winter, all okay.

2. We don't have to pick at our food or have perfect table manners when eating. In fact, werewolves enjoy a woman with a good appetite and an extra few pounds on her. More to love.

3. They're powerful. Women are drawn to strong men because we know they will protect us and our offspring. As long as the guy doesn't go overboard with macho-ism, strength is sexy.

4. Some of them are tortured. They don't want to be a creature of darkness. When we love them, we help them accept themselves for what they are.

5. They do it like an animal. Yeah, like an animal.

My hero in Ruled by the Moon, Dylan, fights his animal nature since he has a difficult time controlling his wolf during sex and he's harmed a woman once while trying to make love. Morgan has a way to help him, if he'd stop being so stubborn and let her.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this excerpt from Ruled by the Moon.

Blurb

A psychic vet, a secretive werewolf, a menace stalking the shifters. Welcome to Nocturne.

Dylan is a werewolf with a problem. He shifts at the new moon as well as at the full moon. He was born a werewolf, not made like most shape-changers and due to these unique traits he's avoided joining a pack and has given up hope of having a normal life. Morgan is a veterinarian, ready to be on her own for a good long time after leaving a cheating, spineless husband. She has a plan for her life that doesn't include a bossy, furry man.

Both are drawn to Nocturne, a town filled with magic due to a strong convergence of ley lines in the area. Morgan and Dylan recognize a connection when they meet, but neither one is looking for romance. After a harrowing encounter with a panther shape-shifter, they must combine forces and work together to uncover a menace that threatens the town. If they can learn to trust each other and let their guard down, they have a chance to solve the mystery and open the door to love.

Excerpt

“You really should get that lock on your door fixed.”

Morgan stood in the kitchen, leaning casually against the counter, not looking overly concerned to have a shotgun pointed at her.

“You really should knock and not sneak up on people.”

“I did knock. No one answered. I came in.”

He lowered the weapon. “I leave the door unlocked a lot. Most people around here do. It’s not an invitation to enter my home.” Dylan’s heart pounded. She looked unbelievably hot. The air in the room danced with electricity and a shiver of wanting ran through him.

“How about that bulge in your pants? Is that an invitation?”

Aware that his cock was standing at attention, Dylan called up every ounce of self-control he possessed. The very worst thing in the world that could happen right now was for him to be close to this woman.

“Morgan, you need to leave. Now. It’s not safe for you to be here.”

Smiling seductively, she walked toward him. He backed up until they were both in the dining room. Her eyes sparked as she undid the tie on her coat and dropped it to the floor. He moaned. The reality of her naked body was better than his imagination. Full breasts, with brown jutting nipples, a little roundness to her belly and hips that begged for his hands to hold them. She didn’t shave herself bald, revealing the hair on her head to be her true color.

“Look, I know you think this is a bad idea, but I’d really like a chance to prove it’s not. I know you want me. There was enough fire in that kiss to ignite a volcano. Come on, let’s give this a whirl and see what happens.”

Smiling, she walked to him and brushed her breasts against his chest then leaned her pelvis close, rubbing against his pants. The silk material was so thin, he could feel her coarse pubic hair on his stiff cock. Dylan closed his eyes. He knew he needed to get the hell out of that room but he couldn’t move. His body ached with desire.

“Please, Morgan, don’t do this.”

“How about I do this, then?”

Reaching through the opening of his pants, she grabbed his cock and slowly stroked it with her fingertips.

“Damn, you feel good. I’m so ready for you.” She put his hand between her legs.

He could feel her heat and almost taste her wet juice in his mouth. Saliva formed and a powerful rush of energy roared through his body. Don’t, don’t, don’t! His mind told him to push her away and run like hell, while every cell in his body longed to take her.

Just a little, I can have just a little. I can control it.

Calling up every ounce of strength he possessed, he pushed the animal back and wrapped his arms around her, buying his nose in her hair. That smell! It was more intoxicating than his whiskey. As his body made contact with hers, heat seared through him in a path right to his soul. She fit perfectly, as though she were designed for him. His heart leapt, and for just a moment, he thought it was going to work. He was going to make love to this enchanting woman. He was going to see his hunger reflected in her eyes, was going to feel her move with him in that ancient dance of desire. He was going to wake up to her smile in the morning.

Then he brushed his hand across her bare back and his nail dug into her skin.

Morgan yelped and pulled away from him.

“Ow! That hurt!”

Shit. It was not going to work. He couldn’t hold it back, he was going to change.

“Get out of my house, now!” he ordered

Morgan backed away slowly. “Why? What’s going on?”

“Get out!” He turned his back to her.

He stood, panting, trying desperately to stop the shift but it was no use. In a few moments the beast would be in control.

Buy Links for Ruled by the Moon:

Liquid Silver Books: http://bit.ly/1FjkVls

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1tpS6LI

Barnes and Noble: http://bit.ly/1uRHgn1

Kobo: http://bit.ly/11qACIw

Google Play: http://bit.ly/1v3ptb6

All Romance: http://bit.ly/1pg3ZIr

iTunes: http://bit.ly/1E2xeB6

About Me

Naomi lives in sunny Florida with the love of her life and a magical calico cat. She writes for various fiction and non-fiction markets but is drawn to romance because her characters insist on canoodling and falling in love. So she lets them. Her interests include dancing, motorcycle riding, drumming and creating healthy meals. She takes the opportunity to play whenever possible. Her motto: Never pass up the opportunity to have an adventure!

Where to find me (I play around at Pinterest, Goodreads, and other places too)

Naomi Bellina

Provocative tales of love, lust, passion and magic

http://www.naomibellina.com/

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