Crymsyn Hart's Blog, page 8

Lila has been tending bar for five years at Hell’s Gate. She is content with her life. However, when Draig walks into the club her world is thrown asunder. There is something about the exotic man that haunts her. She watches him night after night tie up women and can’t help but feel jealous. Draig tries to ignore her, but he can’t get her out of his mind. The only thing he knows to do is push her away.

Until the one night she finally confronts him and gives him a piece of her mind. Draig tries to keep her out, but he realizes Lila is something special. If he keeps her out, then his one chance of freedom will fly away.

EXCERPT

Draig’s back muscles rippled when he stood and dragged a hand across his forehead to wipe the beads of sweat from his brow. Etched over his spine was a full-blown dragon, wings outstretched. When he moved it, it appeared that the wings were flapping. The tattoo was inked in blue and silver hues. The work was so detailed she could make out the minute scales along its feet right before they turned into dangerous claws. Whoever had done the skin masterpiece was truly an artist. She wondered where else he might have some tattoos.

Draig turned. Her cheeks burned from being caught staring. She quickly averted her eyes and pressed the cloth to her head. The coldness eased some of the pain. But she figured she would have one hell of a lump in the morning. Getting whacked on the head twice in one night wasn’t typical. Lila barely ever dropped a bottle of beer. Tonight two of them had slipped from her grasp. Leah wouldn’t dock her for the inventory, but she wouldn’t be happy if she knew.

“All put up. Is there anything else you need stocked?” he asked her.

“No. Thanks for the help. Just gotta go home.” She slid off the stool.

Once her feet hit the floor, she stumbled again. The world spun a little. She put her hands out to catch herself, but instead found herself against his chest. His arms wrapped around her and clasped her back. Her breasts barely touched his chest. Her head came just under his chin. She inhaled and smelled his pure masculine scent mixed with a fruity aroma that must have been the soap he used. Lila laid a hand on his flesh to steady herself. Her entire being flushed with heat from the close contact. An overwhelming urge to fan herself hit her, but she didn’t want to tear her hand away from his solid form. It seemed she was glued to this perfect stranger. Whatever magnetism drew her to him, it was the strongest she had ever felt with a man.

Draig peered into her eyes. Flames ignited in his green ones. A gasp formed on her lips, watching his eyes glow. Before Lila could utter a sound, he claimed her mouth, his full lips covering hers. Her head said she should shove him away. They shouldn’t be kissing because it would only bring trouble. But before she could grasp on to that, the world fell away. She was floating, and nothing could bring her feet to solid ground again. Her body temperature spiked. Just the pleasure his lips brought to her was unlike anything she had experienced before.

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Amelia has been a ghost for almost a century and haunting Hell’s Gate is getting old. She wishes for a change of pace only to have that come in the form of a ring that can make her flesh during the night. On her first night being alivish, she meets Barrett. A hunky man in a kilt who wants nothing more than to worship her.

Barrett comes to Hell’s Gate to indulge in his fetish. When he meets Amelia, he knows she’s the one for him, especially since she has beautiful feet. After their initial meeting, he can’t get her out of his head. He will do anything to have her, even transcend death. Even then, nothing will stand in their way for them to be together.

EXCERPT

Barrett waited a moment before looking up at Amelia again. She flashed him a nervous smile. “Is this your first time doing this?”

“Is it that obvious?”

The corners of his mouth turned into a smile. “Yeah. It’s okay though. I won’t bite your toes. Unless you want me to.”

The laugh that trickled from her lips was intoxicating. It sent a quiver down his spine and seemed to wrap him in a spell. At that moment, he would do anything this woman wanted of him. Not because it was her first experience with foot fetishists, but because she was beautiful and unique. He couldn’t put his finger on it.

“No biting please. What do you want to do?”

“Can I take the shoe off from your right foot?”

He studied her pale face and didn’t see any creases of makeup when the lines formed on her forehead. She was just naturally white. He could see the spider webbing of blue veins through her translucent skin. A dimple appeared in her chin when she sucked on the corner of her bottom lip. Barrett waited patiently for her to answer. He didn’t want to spook her because this was her first time. Their encounter could get pretty intense if she wanted it to. For now, he wanted to start slow.

“Okay.” She finally relented.

Barrett took her shoe and slowly eased the button through the hole of the strap. He took a moment to admire the feel of the silky pump. When he inhaled, he smelled the leather. His dick shifted, but he pushed his own desires aside and slipped her shoe off. His fingers slid over the smooth heel of her shoe. They had been worn a lot. Up close, the small grooves from the worn in leather were visible. He figured they must have been her grandmother’s. Setting the shoe on the floor before him, he gently took hold of her foot. Through the stockings he saw her dainty toes. She has amazing feet. I want to take those babies between my lips and dart my tongue along her toes to see how she tastes. A shiver of pleasure gripped him, and he had to remain very still before he lost control. Losing control with Mistress Sandra was an automatic expulsion from the area, and he would be on probation for three months.

“So what do you want me to do?” he asked.

“What do you normally do?” The uncertainty in her voice made him yearn to please her more.

He ran his finger along the arch of her foot. Amelia jerked slightly from the light touch. He glanced up at her and saw the wavering smile on her lips. He grinned back and watched her expression. Barrett applied a little more pressure to her instep. When her eyes widened, she wasn’t feeling ticklish any longer. As he pushed this thumb into her arch and dragged it along the bend of her foot, a small groan came from her lips. Her pale skin took on a pinkish hue. The more he touched her foot, the more Barrett realized that her skin wasn’t warm. Some people had bad circulation, so he didn’t think twice about it. He yearned to slowly undo her garters, roll down her stockings, and run his tongue over the silky skin of her feet. Maybe even brush his tongue across the tops of her toes before pulling one into his mouth.

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Just when Kalliope’s picking out her wedding dress, Anubis, the Egyptian God of the Dead, comes begging for help. Not able to refuse him, she finds herself up to her ears in sand, rampaging mummies, and a jealous ex-lover who’ll stop at nothing to keep her from getting married.

The only thing that keeps her going is her love for Lugh. Not even he can help Kalliope out of her sandy situation. With her trusty frog familiar at her side, she braves ancient tombs and Egyptian curses to make it to the altar on time.

EXCERPT

“What the hell? That has to stop happening,” he said.

Kalliope wasn’t sure what to make of him. “What has to stop happening?”

“I don’t know what it is, but ever since I woke up here, my power has been flickering in and out. It’s like I’m disconnected from my body. Sometimes I’m solid, and other times I’m not. This is very strange.”

She wasn’t sure what he was rambling about, but he reached out and took her hand. This time, it didn’t pass through hers. The inside of his palm was soft and silky the way whipped cream was on the top of a cheesecake. The image of a cherry-covered cheesecake came to mind and then she shook it from her thoughts.

Her stomach growled. It has to be because of the lack of food.

“What are you doing here anyway?”

She gazed into his intense hazelnut brown eyes. “I’m sorry, but do we know one another?”

He seemed puzzled. “Kalliope, it’s David. You know, the hunky, smooth cheesecake god that you lust after all the time.”

She glanced at her ring and back at him, but her gut said that he wasn’t the one who gave it to her. She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know who you are. And really, are cheesecake gods real? That seems a little absurd.”

He stood up and dusted himself off. After a moment, he snapped his fingers and his very shape changed. She gasped because before her was no longer the deviously striking man, but a large, plain round cheesecake. All his appendages and his facial features appeared as if they were off a Mr. Potato head doll. She backed away. This whole scenario was already a bad nightmare. Now it was just getting worse.

“Good God, what the hell are you?” she cried.

The cheesecake’s red plastic lips turned into a frown. His plastic, round, black eyes squinted. The more she gawked, the more she found him comical. There was no way this being before her was a god. Of course, she was saying that three-foot talking spiders didn’t exist either, but they did. He walked toward her with his oversized white hands outstretched to her. “I won’t hurt you. Whatever they did to you, you have to know I would never hurt you. You mean too much to me for that to happen.”

He reached out and touched her chin. When he did, his appearance changed. Fleshly fingers touched her skin instead of the fake limbs she had just seen. His gaze bored into hers. Whatever magick he had pressed upon her evaporated. She smelled vanilla and peppermint. She licked her lips. He leaned in to kiss her, but stumbled right through her. Kalliope gasped at the sudden cold chill that followed.

“Argh. This is so annoying. Let’s try this again.” His brow furrowed, and she couldn’t see through him any longer. He gave her a cocky grin and kissed her lightly. At first, she didn’t mind the kiss. It was soft and nice. It made her remember that somewhere out there, people did exist, and she wasn’t stuck wherever she was stuck. David deepened the kiss. His power washed over her full force. She got all hot and bothered and began to return the kiss, but halfway through, it didn’t feel right.

Placing a hand on his chest, she reluctantly separated from him, already missing the warmth of his body. “I’m sorry, but this…whatever it was, although it was really nice, you and I aren’t together in that way. I may not know you, but I do know that. Whoever I’m with, I really wish I could remember him. Do you know him?”

David touched her cheek. Her knees shook when he did, but she was not going to let her body dictate whose arms she was going to fall into. She was all about finding the person who gave her the ring. “They never should have done this to you.”

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One naked god, a breast-obsessed frog, and three snake-haired goddesses trying to take over the world!

After taking some medicine to ward off her cold, Kalliope discovers she’s been loaned out to Mt. Olympus. Zeus charges her with saving the world from The Furies, three serpent-headed cowgirls who want to enslave humanity by kidnapping all the CEOs of every fast food restaurant in the world.

As her journey continues, Kalliope meets Apollo. By this time, her cold medicine is wearing off and Apollo is looking like a piece of prime Greek god hunk. When her fever reaches its pinnacle, Kalliope finds herself in a hot mess. The Furies are bearing down on her and she doesn’t know where she’ll end up. What’s a witch to do when saving the world is on her plate, but all she wants to do is stop sneezing? 

EXCERPT

Kalliope pushed her hair out of her face. She took a moment and calmed her nerves. She really did want to interrupt the sorceress because she had to find away to get the arrow out of Apollo, the sword out of the stone, and get rid of her cold. “Don’t really have a choice.”

She walked past the hearth and pushed aside the curtains hanging in the door. When she did, she was transported to a tropical paradise. There was a path overgrown with large ferns, but it was passable. The aroma of flowers scented the air. Birds squawked overhead. It reminded her of being in a rain forest. A light mist drizzled down through the canopy, making everything appear to have a rainbow attached to it.

She heard voices not too far ahead of her.

“Morgaine?” she called.

Kalliope heard a moan. She pushed aside the fauna and walked up the path. There was a bed in the middle of a clearing with a brook babbling next to it. A cool breeze lifted sheer bed curtains. Kalliope saw her friend’s back through the drapes. There was someone else in bed with her.

“I thought I told no one to disturb me!” Morgaine yelled.

Kalliope realized her friend was extremely occupied and quickly hid behind a large palm so the sorceress would not feel uncomfortable.

“Sorry. But I really need to talk to you!” Kalliope called. “Kalli?”

“Yeah.”

“Now is not really a good time. I’m kinda —err—busy. Can’t you come back later? We can work out whatever magickal problem you’re having then.”

Kalliope sighed. If only it were that easy. She could only image how the centuries old sorceress was going to react when she saw Apollo. At least he’s alive. I don’t know what I’d do if I’d killed a god or had been the cause. I’m sure Zeus would say something. I don’t feel like being the one filing his toenails for all eternity either.

“Trust me, it wasn’t som-ome th-thing…” Damn. She sneezed again. When she did, there was a large thud. Morgaine and her companion landed on the ground.

The sorceress sighed. “I’ll be right there. I can never get any time to myself.”

Kalliope waited. Finally, her friend emerged from the foliage wearing jeans and a black band T-shirt.

“Sorry.”

Morgaine said nothing, but motioned for her to follow. When she crossed over the threshold back to Avalon, Apollo was no longer on the floor. He was on Morgaine’s bed. The sorceress turned around and glanced at Kalliope. “How did Apollo end up dead on my bed?”

“He’s not dead.” Flidais chimed in. “He’s only stunned from the arrow.”

“Great. Have you tried to pull it out?”

“I didn’t know if it would hurt him. Flidais tried, but it wasn’t budging,” Kalliope explained.

“Sometimes I wonder why you’re a witch and why this one is a goddess.”

“Ex-goddess on the way to becoming a goddess, thank you,” Flidais corrected.

Morgaine shook her head. “Whatever, I don’t care what kind of a goddess you are. Kalliope, get on that side of him. Flidais, hold him down.”

Both of them did what they were told. Kalliope held down Apollo’s uninjured shoulder. His face was turned toward her and he seemed peaceful. Flidais sat on his feet. Morgaine straddled his back and gripped the shaft of the arrow with both hands. With one quick tug, she yanked the arrow out of his shoulder. There was no blood on the tip.

“Kalli, don’t let him—”

Once the arrow left his body, Apollo opened his eyes and saw Kalliope. “Hello, gorgeous.” He popped up out of bed and swept her into his arms for a deep kiss. “—look at you.” Flidais was too late.

Kalliope melted in his arms. She felt completely at home. With the first touch of his lips, the fever burned in her body. She desired nothing more than to bed this beautiful hunk that had her in his arms. Any thought of Lugh vanished from her mind. Apollo’s hands grabbed and squeezed her butt underneath her dress. That made her jump up into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist. He didn’t seem to mind at all. He turned and was about to lay her on the bed. Kalliope didn’t want him to stop, not caring that there was an audience. She was sweating. The fever in her brain had blocked any rational thought except sating the wanton lust consuming her. God, he was a great kisser. His lips were full. His chest was oh-my-God-lick-off-chocolate-syrup good. She kissed him harder and—

Was suddenly dosed with frigid water. When that happened, her senses returned. She scooted away from the god, who looked at her with big puppy dog eyes. He was not wet at all. What have I done to Lugh? What’s wrong with me?

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What would you do if a naked god appeared in your bed?

Every spell Kalli casts lately backfires. Going to bed disgusted, she awakes to find a gorgeous, naked man in her bed. The witch discovers that her naked burglar is a god named Lugh. Kalliope yearns to be touched by him, but before that can happen, another prowler comes into her life. Cromm, a death god, arrives to collect on a promise made before she was born.

While trying to escape Cromm, she finds herself spirited away to a realm of gods and goblins. There, Lugh’s ex-lover captures Kalli, keeping her prisoner in an oak tree. While captive, Kalliope meets a goddess who gives her three magickal apples. From the first bite, her world changes forever.

EXCERPT

Something tickled the side of her face. It drew her into half-wakefulness, but not enough to force her to leave her dream about the naked man she had met in the woods. He really had made an impression. He was in the middle of giving her a massage that was leading to other things.

“Kalliope.”

The sound came from her dream man’s lips. She smiled at the way his mouth formed the syllables of her name. It made her quiver inside. His hands were firm on her shoulders, easing the tension out of the deepest muscles. He sat on top of her, digging his fingers into her back. His hot, firm member poked against her rear. The faint smell of pine lingered around him. God, he knew what he was doing.

“Harder,” she whispered.

He chuckled. His fingers plowed into the lines of her neck, relaxing the spaces between her vertebrae. His breath hot against her cheek, her dream man smelled so good, a combination of fresh rain and musk. The touch of his fingers stirred her passions. The massage he was giving her was amazing, but she wanted more.

She endured a few more strokes of his palms and then turned over, staring into his eyes. Rising up, Kalliope locked her lips to his. He stiffened, seeming surprised she had kissed him. She had wondered if he was ever going to, but hey, this was her dream, so she could do whatever she wanted.

Her hands entwined in his hair until he responded to her lips. His hands cupped her butt, getting a firm hold. He was erect and warm against her inner thigh. All she had to do was move a little and he would be buried inside of her. His fingers tickled along her back and his lips traced the line of her jaw. Meanwhile, she pressed herself into him, feeling the lines of his stomach. Her breasts fit perfectly against his pecks. Everything on him was defined muscle. Kalliope had never had anyone like him.

Her dream man’s hands played with her hair and his lips nipped the hollow of her throat.

“Kalliope.” This time, when he whispered her name, she realized she was more awake than she’d thought. The caresses she felt were not just from her dream. Comprehension brought her to consciousness. A jolt of fear, anxiety, and surprise ran through her. Oak leaf green eyes stared down at her. The heat from his body warmed the sheets and radiated onto her, making her very aware of him. She scrambled out from underneath the covers and escaped the bed.

A man in my bed! Oh my goddess! How did he get in here?

“You! What are you doing in my bed?” She gasped.

He was propped up on one arm with the sheet draped over half of his chest, covering his lower anatomy. His tanned skin shone in the low light of her nightlight. His face was firm with a rounded jaw, defined nose, and perfect teeth. His dark brown tousled hair had highlights of red and gold woven through it and curled around his ears, touching the top of his shoulders. For a long moment, Kalliope stared at him. He didn’t blink, and he studied her just as she did him. She recalled her dream and felt her cheeks redden. The aroma of pine and fresh air filled the room. For a split second, all her anxiety and doubt melted away. Calmness and serenity overwhelmed her. His smile widened, and he patted the place on the bed she had leapt from.

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Wyr is a dragon hybrid who has been alone for over a hundred years and an outcast among his own kind. When mistaken identity makes him the priest for a local village, he takes up residence in a cave within a volcano. While he gives advice to the town, he keeps his true heritage hidden.

Tahan is the son of a local merchant with an arranged marriage looming over his head. He wants nothing of his father’s business or the marriage. Instead, Tahan has a few secrets of his own and has eyes for the village priest. Tahan admits he knows the priest’s secret only to face his anger, but when Tahan touches him Wyr realizes his true affections for the man.

In order to save the man he loves from the volcanic eruption, Wyr must reveal his true nature. By doing so, his existence is threatened. Still he would do anything to make Tahan happy and see him safe. Even give up his life.

EXCERPT

I’m not afraid of you,” Tahan said. “That should be evident by me coming here, falling to my knees and begging you to let me stay here. By touching you and kissing you the other day. I’ve seen how you looked at me when I’ve visited in the past, the longing in your eyes and how you stiffen up when I get close.” Tahan squeezed his cock once more.

A moan escaped Wyr’s throat. Beads of perspiration slid down his temple. He yearned to wipe them away, but didn’t dare move in case the sudden movement agitated his fragile state. “None of that matters.”

A devilish smile turned Tahan’s mouth up. He stepped closer and conformed his body to Wyr’s. “Yes, it does. You’re just fighting it because you don’t believe I’m really attracted to you. You’re thinking I’m only doing this because I want sanctuary. But I’m not. I’ve wanted to be with you for a long time. All those times I’ve watched you, I saw the hurt you held inside. It was in the way you carried yourself. Anytime you come to town you try to remain aloof, but I see the longing in your eyes. The council doesn’t see it, but I do. Please let me stay.”

Wyr’s muscles trembled as Tahan’s warm breath blasted against his flesh. The other man rested his head on Wyr’s shoulder, placing kisses along his collarbone. The ache to wrap his arms around the other man nearly crushed him, but Tahan had said exactly what was on his mind. He was showing him affection because he needed a place to escape from the world and he had hoped that Wyr could provide that. Of course the more he thought about it, the more he yearned to have him for a companion. It had been a long time since he had been with anyone. Tahan flicked his tongue along Wyr’s Adam’s apple and spikes of delight rammed through him nearly overcoming the twisting of his muscles from the change. His cock grew firmer from the contact and he was burning up from the inside out.

“Let me stay,” Tahan whispered. He met Wyr’s eyes.

His will was crumbling. He sighed and tore his gaze away. “Fine. You can stay, but don’t think that you have to…”

Tahan placed a finger to Wyr’s lips. “Trust me. This is what I want to do. Just relax. Please.”

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When Larissa moves into her new apartment, she realizes that it also comes with a roommate, a little ghost girl, but that isn’t the oddest thing that’s included. An hour after sunset, she continually hears a loud banging erupting from the downstairs apartment. Worried about her landlord, she goes against the realtor’s warning to leave him alone, and finds that the man she lives above is as mysterious as he is gorgeous.

Little does she know what she’s truly getting herself involved in.

When a steamy dream turns to lust, Larissa can’t keep herself away from Gregor. Entranced with her landlord, she discovers his dark secrets. Even when he warns her to keep away, all she craves is to make her dream a reality. The only thing standing in her way is the curse that binds Gregor.

EXCERPT

My landlord stared at me from the bathroom door. I jumped and banged my head on the tile, but for some reason it didn’t hurt. I looked around, and there wasn’t anything to cover up with. He laughed, a rich and deep sound. In the illumination of the bathroom lights, I saw just how pale his skin truly was, almost as white as my bathroom tile. His eyes were more amber in the light. He wore a pair of tight jeans and no shirt with a torso that was covered in dried blue paint. I wondered if he was really a smurf underneath the handsome exterior.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” I swallowed, feeling my breath catch in my throat as he stepped further into the bathroom and knelt down by the tub.

“I need you, Larissa.” He said nothing else, leaned in, and picked me up from the warm water, not caring that I was soaking wet.

“But you hardly know me,” I whispered as his lips came down and met mine. Once their softness touched me, I was lost. Gregor was tender, pressing me against him so I could feel the warmth of his flesh now that the cool air assaulted my body. I began to shiver as he kissed me, working his way down my neck. I felt his teeth nipping my skin. He laid me on the bed, but I placed a hand on this chest. He jerked back as if I had burned him and searched my eyes.

“Don’t you want me?” he asked. The pain in his voice and expression nearly broke my heart.

Swallowing, I tucked my knees under me and knelt on the bed. I smiled and caressed his face. Gregor’s skin was soft, and I couldn’t feel any stubble. My lips sought his. I realized how much my body craved to be under his, feeling the push of his sculpted muscles against mine. My kiss took him off guard, but after a second of hesitation, he returned it with a hunger that matched my own desires.

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Jada is selling her childhood home. She takes one last look in her old bedroom hoping to reconnect with Rhydian—the man who lived in her closet. After losing her family, he is the one hope she clings to. The only way she can get to him is by stepping from her world into his.

Before Jada can find Rhydian, she’s attacked by a witch. When Rhydian saves Jada, he’s intrigued but doesn’t remember her. A spell has erased his memories and Jada doesn’t know how to break it.

An evil still lurks in the darkness, out for Jada’s blood. Together, Rhydian and Jada must face the evil if they ever wish to be together and break the spell.

EXCERPT

He grunted. “I read the letters. You were right. I found the responses in the trunk. Many of them I salvaged. The others had deteriorated. They tell an interesting tale. Maybe you’re in league with the witch.”

Jada pulled the gown over her body. It fitted her tightly and left her neck and the tops of her breasts exposed. “I’m not in league with her. This isn’t how I expected our reunion would be.”

“What did you expect? Flowers and sweet words?”

“I don’t know what I expected. I came here hoping that I could … I had nowhere else to go. Everything’s gone. You were the only thing I had left.”

“Do you want me to pity you? The person in those letters is nothing. I don’t know him. I don’t know you.” He scattered the pages across the floor between them.

Seeing her precious recollections strewn about was almost as bad as if he had torn them to pieces. She knelt down and tried to gather them up. Jada noticed mud covered his leather boots. The sides showed wear. His cape frayed at the edges. Rhydian had always kept his things pristine. Something else to indicate how much he had changed.

He stepped on her memories and forced her to look up at him. Jada told herself Rhydian didn’t remember her. Before her was a true creature of darkness she had read and written about. Now she had been thrown into one of her books. In this one, Jada didn’t know the outcome of the plot. The witch explained he could only be drawn out by the one who created him.

How can that help me now?

“Would you mind moving your foot, Rhydian?”

“You address me as though you know me intimately. You should be calling me, count, or my lord, or master.”

She snorted. “I don’t think so. No one owns me. Move your foot.”

“Why do those sheets mean so much to you? They are old, from a person who no longer exists. I recognize the hand, but the words are foreign to me.”

Jada stood slowly. He told her the truth. That person was no longer there and she had to connect with the man before her for this to work. Maybe this experience had to occur for her to say good-bye because she had said good-bye to everything else. “The letters were a solace after the accident. They gave me something to hold on to while I dealt with the grief. Maybe my coming here is a way to prepare me to get back to my family.” A sense of peace came over her as she realized the solution.

“Your family would be dead, I take it, from the way you’re talking,” he stated.

“Yes. Killed in a car wreck. By some simple twist of fate, I remained alive with this to show for it.” Jada gestured to the scar on her face.

Rhydian clutched her jaw once more and ran his finger over the mark. She trembled. “Not as bad as mine. You’re saying I should feel sorry for you for this?”

“No. I wouldn’t expect that. I was just stating a fact. I assume you’re here because you want to kill me.”

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Fed up with feeding candy to zombie fairy princesses, Celeste takes a stroll in the local graveyard. Under the full moon, her hidden power calls to Tristan. Once in his arms, Celeste realizes he is not what he seems to be.

Tristan has been running from himself and from his past. With Celeste he is forced to face his dark desires. If he doesn’t, the past will come back to haunt him, and he could lose his new found love to an evil he hasn’t confronted in ages.

Will they survive his past? Or together will they discover their true destinies?

EXCERPT

“We can’t.”

“Why? You didn’t stop last time.” I kissed him again, nipping at his neck. The T-shirt fit him a little too snugly, like a second skin. I dragged my nails over the back of it.

He pulled me away from him after a moment. He didn’t want me to stop. The expanding bulge in his jeans told me that along with the mixed emotions on his face and the lust in his eyes. “You’re still recovering from the other night and if we do, it would mean—” He looked away.

My hand rubbed his cock which pressed against the denim. His eyes fluttered closed, and he had to bite his lip to hold in a moan. His fingers crushed my bandaged wrist, and I didn’t cry out. The more I touched him or he touched me the more intoxicating I became for him. My body was alive with him there. My nipples were hard just thinking about what would happen between us. God, I wanted him.

“What would it mean?” I whispered against his ear.

He snarled then bared his lengthening fangs. He kissed me hard, and his incisors cut my tongue. A drop of blood fell onto his tongue. He deepened his kiss and thrust his tongue into my mouth. Tristan’s free hand wrapped in my hair, and he yanked my head back. He didn’t wait to see my expression of ecstasy as he licked my neck and bit down hard. I waited for the sucking to start and him to draw my life into him, but he didn’t. He purred low in his throat and nipped my ear.

“It would mean you lose your humanity, and I damn my soul even more.”

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When Barnabee is dumped out of Santa’s sleigh on Christmas Eve, Julian takes pity on the half naked man in the snow on his front lawn. As Barnabee wakes up Christmas morning, he’s overtaken by Julian’s kindness and the smell of gingerbread.

Barnabee struggles with telling Julian the truth about his origins. With events moving so quickly, he has to come clean. While their newfound love is a Christmas miracle, can Julian accept Barnabee for what he is? And when the sheriff comes knocking to bring Barnabee back to Holly Town, what will Barnabee decide? Can this reindeer’s Christmas wish be realized or is he up the gingerbread creek without a candy cane?

EXCERPT

I’m not seeing this. He rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn’t sleeping and realized he wasn’t. The deer were larger than anything he had seen before, but so was the sleigh. It seemed to be the size of an eighteen wheeler and yet it fit on the roof of a house. The reindeer were the size of buffalo except, for the lead deer which actually had a red glowing nose that cut through the darkness like a mega flood light. He shielded his eyes when it hit him. Julian watched the sleigh move off of the roof and come toward his house.

The entire building shook. He gazed up at the ceiling and heard a voice muttering in the darkness. He pressed himself to the window and twisted his head up to see if he could make out anything else. Something moved downstairs in his living room where his tree was. He wanted to race down the steps to see if he could spot the red-suited man himself, but instead another large thump hit the roof. A blur rolled off his roof by the window. Julian gazed outside. Something had just landed on his row of holly bushes and then onto the lawn.

Bells jingled above him in the snow sparkled sky.

He looked up, but the sleigh had disappeared from sight. Peering back down, Julian realized a man was sprawled on his lawn. He shoved his feet into his ancient cat slippers and grabbed his robe. He rushed down the stairs and opened the door. A blast of cold air hit him so he could barely catch his breath. However, he sucked it up and waded through the foot and a half of snow to the man who appeared to be some deranged snow angel.

Julian poked him with his foot. “Hey.”

The google eyes on his slippers wiggled into a menacing stare. The man moaned. At least he’s alive. Julian examined the roof and noticed the trail where the stranger had bowled down and landed on his bushes. Although the evidence of it was already being covered up by the snow. I can’t leave him out here to freeze to death. In the pale light, it was easy to see the man had gone through something. If he really did fall out of Santa’s sleigh, then there had to be something to him.

I can’t believe I’m doing this. He lifted the man from under his arms and slowly dragged him through the snow back to his front door. Julian’s feet were freezing, and his cat slippers’ fake fur was plastered to their furry blue bodies. If they had been real cats, they would have been hissing at him. He closed the door to his house and locked it.

He brought the stranger into his living room and got him up on the couch. The light from his tree gave Julian enough illumination to see this man had been in a fight recently. Both of his eyes were black and his lip was swollen. Although underneath all the bruises, he was handsome. And there was something else Julian couldn’t put his finger on.

The man murmured something indistinguishable. Motivated by cold and being wet himself, Julian dashed to the fireplace and flicked the switch to get the gas going. When he came back up, he hit his head on one of the stockings he had hung.

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