The D’Arc Side

INFERNO Excerpt

Here’s a sneak peek at part of the vampire ball scene from INFERNO, which comes out tomorrow from Samhain Publishing…

Inferno

Copyright © 2009 Bianca D’Arc

All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication

The men included the women in their conversation again, talking about the excellent musicians the Deans had managed to hire for this party. To her surprise, they talked about other performers, from rock stars to opera companies that had either played at or been booked to play at future vampire get-togethers. It seemed these immortals liked to party.

Or perhaps the Deans hosted such events in order to keep an eye on their people. Dante had spoken of tonight’s invitation as a summons. Maybe the Deans liked to dress up their public audiences in the form of parties. It made sense. People were less inclined to start trouble at a festive event and more likely to attend, even if they understood there was an ulterior motive.

Sort of like a business conference. You went for the food and freebies and tried not to mind the sales pitches that happened along the way. Very clever indeed of the vampires to use that old stratagem. Then again, they might’ve been the ones to come up with it in the first place.

“Shall we dance?” Sir Heathclif’s cultured tones shook her out of her internal musings.

He offered his hand to Megan and it was nearly impossible to say no to the command in his powerful voice. Still, something made her look over at Dante. She wasn’t seeking his permission exactly. It was more like a quick check on whether he thought it would be safe for her to go off with this strange man. After all, Dante knew more about these people than she did. The very idea that she would instinctively trust her safety to Dante’s judgment was something to ponder at another time.

“I’ve never waltzed before tonight, Mr. Dean,” she said, hoping to find some reason to decline. The hard expression on Dante’s face and his narrowed eyes made her want to say no, though the independent lone wolf inside her balked at any restriction.

“Please, call me Heath. I saw you dancing beautifully with d’Angleterre. All that native agility and grace makes you a natural for dancing, my dear. Please, allow me the honor of partnering you.”

Once again he held out his hand, and she had no choice but to accept. Heathclif Dean hadn’t become one of the most powerful vampires in the country overnight. He’d had centuries to hone his commanding ways and at a mere thirty years old, were or not, Megan was no match for the power of his will.

She put her hand in his and was quickly whisked off to the dance floor. The revelers parted almost magically, making way for the important man in their midst and staring at Megan with assessing eyes that made her uncomfortable. She never liked being the center of attention.

All that was forgotten as Heath led her into the whirl of an energetic yet genteel waltz. He was a master not only of men, but of the dance, leading her with subtle movements that positioned her exactly where he wanted her to go. All she had to do was follow and allow herself to be caught up in the swirl of skirts, the swish of silk and the loveliness of the music reverberating gently over the walls of the large hall.

She lost track of time and space, mesmerized by the dance and the compelling man. He looked deeply into her eyes, and she felt the pressure of his magic against her natural were resistance. He couldn’t influence her, but the dance was dreamy enough, the fact that he was trying to use his power on her didn’t alarm her as it should.

The waltz music drew to a crescendo, and Heath dipped her low over his bent knee. He moved closer. She was in no position to move, much less evade him. Her body was positioned in such a way that she had absolutely no leverage and no hope of escaping the kiss she thought he meant to deliver.

Such a public display would be embarrassing, but she would live through it. She braced herself, and when he dipped even lower she realized he was aiming not for her lips, but for her jugular.

She could see the gleam of his fangs as they descended. He struck fast, the fear only momentary before his bite seduced her senses. Vampire mojo was not to be discounted at close range, she learned, even for a _were_wolf. The bite propelled her into a hazy state of mind where she didn’t fight, only succumbed to the Master vampire.

Shocked whispers erupted all around them on the dance floor as Heath abruptly let her go with a final lick and raised her to her feet. She was dizzy. His big hand steadied her as he guided her from the dance floor, toward their small group.

Megan was in a daze. A kind of shocking sexual hunger had been aroused in her body but left unfulfilled. She’d never been bitten by a vampire before and was unprepared for the way it made her feel. Being unsteady on her feet was not something she was used to. Weres in general had excellent balance. Her balance, of course, was shot to hell by Heath’s disturbing influence.

He brought her directly to a seething Dante. The man was so angry he practically bristled. She saw the fury in his eyes even before he opened his mouth to speak.

Heath preempted him. “Come with me, d’Angleterre. We have much to discuss.”

Heath turned away abruptly, his hand still firmly grasping hers as he led them toward the door. He stopped only once, to tell his daughter he was leaving and that she should continue to enjoy herself that the party.

Thwarted in his fury, Dante followed. Megan caught a glimpse of his heavy stride as he came down the steps behind her and their host. She was ushered into a long black limousine and guided to the seat behind the driver, facing Heath and Dante. Both men looked angry, but Dante won the award for sheer ferocity.

The car began to move and Dante turned on the man who was, for all intents and purposes, Master of this region, though his daughter carried the actual title.

“You should not have done that.” Each word was bitten out between Dante’s clenched teeth.

Heath sank back against the plush cushions. “Oddly enough, I agree with you. She is poisoned.”

Phantom Desires - Releases Tomorrow!

The revamp of this short story - now a novella - will release tomorrow in ebook formats. Here’s a little excerpt to give you a flavor for the new, improved version of this fan favorite…

An Excerpt from Phantom Desires

(c) 2009 Bianca D’Arc. All Rights Reserved.

“Are you going to kill me?” She asked it straight out, with a courage he admired.

He shook his head. “I had given it some thought, but you are too interesting to destroy, Carly. Too intelligent.” He stroked her soft hair away from her face. “Too beautiful.”

“Then what are you going to do with me? Why show yourself?”

He stepped back, releasing her chair completely. He paced away a short distance, his eyes following her movements as she straightened her sleeves unnecessarily.

“Now we come to the crux of the matter.” He sighed. “I have been watching you for some time. Since you moved into the farmstead, in fact.”

“The farm? Why?”

His gaze pinned her. “Because I live there as well.” He paused but she made no comment. “Under your home, several stories down into the earth is a replica of the farmstead. I have been living there in peace and safety for over a century. For all that time, the same family owned the land and house above and we peacefully co-existed until old Jacob died. He had no family to leave the place to in his will, so it was sold.”

“To me.” Her voice was a surprisingly calm whisper.

“To you,” he agreed with a nod. “Now I am faced with the problem of a mortal inhabiting the space above me who has no idea of my existence and no loyalty to the agreement I had with Jacob’s ancestors, binding on all subsequent generations. That agreement is, in effect, null and void now that their line is ended.”

“So you want to make a new agreement with me?”

He smiled. “I thought so at first.” He moved closer to her once again.

“But?” she prompted.

“But I recently became dissatisfied with the old arrangement. I want to broker a new deal with you, Carly. A much more intimate deal.” His hands framed her face, tilting her head up to his. “I want you, Carly. In my bed at night and safeguarding my rest during the day.”

“Does this also include…um…my blood?”

His smile turned carnal. “Indeed. I want to taste you, Carly. I want to drink you and take your essence into myself. But I won’t hurt you. I will only bring you pleasure, like I’ve been doing in our shared dreams, only much, much better.”

“Oh, God.” She was overwhelmed by him…by everything.

“I can see I’ve given you a great deal to think about.” He stood and headed for the door. “Finish your work here and I’ll see you home.” He turned to look at her, his dark eyes pinning her in place. “I’ll give you a bit of time to decide, Carly, but I can’t wait long. I want you more than any woman I’ve ever met and believe me, that is saying something. Call my name, and I will come when you’re ready to leave.”

* * *

How she got through the final installation and testing, she never knew. Around four in the morning, the job was finally done. True, it had taken her quite a bit longer than she had originally estimated but with such chaotic thoughts racing through her mind what else could she expect? It wasn’t every day she was propositioned by an honest-to-goodness vampire.

That thought and several others raced through her mind every few moments despite her best efforts to stay focused on the project. She had to finish it tonight. It was important she settle her work before tackling the much larger personal problem she had just inherited by buying a cursed farm.

How was she to know there was a vampire living under her house? Shouldn’t the real estate agent have disclosed something as serious as that? She laughed inwardly at the thought, knowing the old man who had owned the house before her had taken the secret to his grave as his ancestors had before him.

They had lived with the vampire, apparently with no ill effect. All the people she had spoken to about old Jacob had loved him. He had been a happy old man, always ready with a kind word or a helping hand, or so everyone claimed. No way could he have been some kind of evil servant of the undead. Right?

But Dmitri wanted more from her than peaceful coexistence. He wanted her blood and her body. He wanted her to be his mistress, she realized with some shock. Here she’d been hoping since she was a little girl to find some good man and become his wife. Apparently fate had something different in mind for her. She was to be the mistress of a vampire. Either that…or what? She realized with a shiver that Dmitri hadn’t given her an alternative.

When she could delay no longer, she called his name softly. In moments he was there, his dark gaze boring into her, watching her every move as if he could see into her mind. And perhaps he could, she thought with a gasp.

“Can you read my mind?”

He chuckled. “Actually, not well. Most mortals have surface thoughts that are easy to pick up, but your mind is more complex, Carly. Beautifully complex.”

“Well, thank heaven for that,” she muttered but still, she could tell from his amused expression, he had heard every word.

“Come.” He picked up her coat from the chair and held it open for her.

She allowed him to help her as he had the night before and, as before, he did not release her right away. He held her close, wrapped in the coat and his strong arms while his mouth teased the skin behind her ear and down to where the pulse beat strong in her neck.

She felt his sharp teeth scrape over her flesh. It sent shivers down her spine but whether of fear or arousal was anyone’s call. She knew what he was now and it gave every one of his motions a whole new meaning.

He released her and stepped back, holding the door for her. When they got to her car, he simply held out his hand for the keys before taking the wheel and guiding them safely, if a bit speedily, home. Apparently the undead liked to drive fast.

Sneak Peek: Inferno (WIP)

I’m working on the first draft of this book right now and thought I’d share a little here for those who might be interested…

(c) 2008 Bianca D’Arc. All Rights Reserved.

It was likely they’d seen the last of Patrick Vabian, though his allies in the Venifucus were still enemies to be reckoned with.

But that battle was for another time. For tonight, there were women to bed and blood to be savored. Dante followed Duncan into the night club, well aware they would find more than a few willing mortal women inside. Dante paused to sniff the air, satisfied for the moment with the ripe scent of humanity that assailed his sharp senses, but just then he noticed some other, more subtle scent lacing the air.

It was off to his right.

Dante opened his eyes and looked around, only to meet the gaze of the most alluring woman he’d ever seen in all his long centuries. Lustrous, mink brown hair framed her face and swayed gently with her movements. Snapping hazel eyes fringed with thick, dark lashes batted at him with come hither motions.

She was sitting on a bar stool, surrounded by mortals, but she shone as if she were the only being in the room. She was not human.

Dante sniffed again.

Were.

And she was looking directly at him, meeting his eyes boldly while she raised a glass of red wine to her lips. He followed the line of it as her luscious throat flexed in a swallow and he got hard. Just like that.

This woman was something else.

And she held knowledge in her eyes.

Silently, she stood from the bar and stalked toward him. She moved like a predator, sinuous and sensuous as she held his attention, and his gaze, mesmerizing him. He got the feeling he was definitely her prey and not the other way around. It was a novel experience for him. Never had a woman enthralled him so completely.

And they hadn’t even touched.

But that would soon be remedied.

“She’s a fine looking woman, but beware my friend,” Duncan said in a low voice, “she is not what she seems.”

Dante nodded, his gaze glued on the woman as she approached. “I know what she is.”

“But do you know why? Why would such a creature seek you out?”

Dante shrugged. “Probably for no good reason, but I find it hard to resist the puzzle she represents.”

“Just be certain this puzzle doesn’t get you staked out in the desert at dawn.” Duncan laughed as he moved off, two women already in his sights. “I’ll be near if you need backup.”

*

She didn’t realize he’d be so handsome, but then bloodletters were said to have a Glamour all their own. She also didn’t think she was close enough to feel his influence, but then she didn’t have any personal experience with his kind. Their powers were said to grow with the centuries, and Dante was downright ancient.

There was something about the tall man at his side too. Something that gave Megan the heebie geebies, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what the deal was with him. He wasn’t a bloodsucker. His scent was different, but very, very magical. Not human entirely, but not anything else she recognized either. She would have to tread carefully—very carefully—until she knew exactly what she was dealing with.

Still, the ball was in play now. She’d have to see it through and play the game she’d planned. Just this one last task, and she’d finally be free of those meddlesome Altor Custodis. She’d do just about anything to clear her family debt of honor, but she had to be careful. This Dante fellow was more than likely the most deadly being she’d ever meet.

Squaring her shoulders, she walked right up to him and shifted her weight to one foot, letting her opposite hip jut out toward him provocatively. Dante was certainly a tall drink of water, almost a foot taller than her own five foot four. Of course, she was petite for a wolf shifter, but then, she was only half-were by blood.

She didn’t speak, just looked him over and let him look in return. She saw the flare of interest in his eyes before he banked it to something less obvious. She was close enough to scent his magic now but was well protected against the vampire mojo. Still, he certainly did have an effect and she had to admit—mojo or not, this man was potent with a capital P.

“Do you like playing with fire, little one?”

His voice wafted over her like dark silk, caressing her pelt in the most sensuous way. She had to suppress a shiver of pleasure at the tone and timbre. And this was just his voice!

She struggled for nonchalance. “I know what you are.”

“And still you come to me? You’re a brave little shifter. Does your pack know what you’re up to?”

“I have no pack. I’m a loner.” Her chin rose defiantly.

“Ah, a lone wolf out on the prowl.” He made the words mocking, but she stood her ground. “You are a foolhardy youngster then, out to test her limits.”

“No doubt I’m younger than you, but by no means a child.” She thrust out her chest and was glad to see his gaze snagged by the motion. “I’m curious, I’ll admit. I’ve heard your kind has certain abilities for pleasure.”

Dante leaned back, studying her from under hooded eyes. He was a seducer of the sense in every word, every motion. It would be hard not to fall under his spell—magical or not. Everything female in her wanted to be with this male, regardless of his species or his power.

He watched her, seeming to come to some kind of decision. “My name is Dante.”

She laughed. “Playing with fire, indeed. I get the literary reference, Dante.” She winked at him. “My name is Megan.”

One & Only - Excerpt

Here’s a little tease from my newest release, One & Only.

     When Lissa Adams woke, darkness engulfed her. Straining to see in the absence of light, her breath accelerated as she panicked. Her apprehension only grew when she realized another person lay beside her. A soft dripping sound echoed through what she supposed was some kind of underground chamber or cave. That’s what it sounded like—and smelled like. She felt rough rock and scattered grains of sandy dirt beneath her palms.

     She knew the mountains were dotted with such places, but she couldn’t remember how she’d gotten here. Or why she was so groggy.

     She tried to sit up, but the effort it required nearly blacked her out again. The being beside her stirred at her movement, and she felt more than saw the person rise to lean over her.

     “Where are we?”

     “I moved us to shelter.”

     Rich and warm, his voice bathed her senses in a dark and dangerous way.

     Sexy, she thought. She’d heard that voice before.

     It was accompanied by flashing eyes and chiseled features. A man’s face flickered through her mind. She’d been fascinated by him and instantly captivated. She remembered thinking he was quite possibly the most striking man she’d ever seen.

     “You stepped on my foot.”

     He chuckled at her innocent observation, setting her insides aflame.

     “Indeed. But that was more than twenty-four hours ago.”

     He stroked a gentle finger down her cheek and she shivered, not in fear, but in surprising arousal. If just the brush of his finger could elicit this response, she wondered what he could do if he really tried.

     That thought stopped her cold. Men like this one didn’t usually go for women like her. Better to focus on the peculiar situation she found herself in than daydream about her rescuer.

     “What happened? I remember the bus swerving…”

     “Ah, yes. Just before we rolled down the side of the mountain. You hit your head very hard, I’m afraid. That’s probably why you’re still a bit fuzzy.”

     “Where’s everyone else?”

     He paused only slightly. “Dead.”

     Her breath caught in shock as her mind raced. “How did we…?”

     “Relax, sweetheart.” He moved closer. “I pulled you from the wreckage and found shelter, but I was badly damaged in the accident as well. I’m sorry for it, but I need your essence to speed my healing.”

     “My what?” Hot breath bathed her ear as he settled closer to her side. His strong arms enveloped her shoulders as his mouth stroked over the line of her jaw and lower.

     “Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you, but I need your blood, and I’m too weak to cloud your mind. You’ll have to trust me.” His words whispered against her shivering skin. He dragged sharp teeth back and forth over her jugular as if savoring the moment before the feast.

     She barely had time to take in his words before he struck. A piercing pain registered only for a flash, followed by the greatest bliss she had ever experienced. Intensely sexual, it engulfed her in a way she’d never known. He sucked at her neck, licking at the essence of her, swallowing like a thirsty man in the desert. Yet reverence and gentleness communicated through his tender handling of her bruised and battered body.

     Oddly, she didn’t object. She knew she should be afraid, but an intense arousal overwhelmed her. She didn’t have the strength to voice even the faintest protest.

Buy the eBook Now from Samhain Publishing

Jaci’s Experiment - Out Tomorrow!

Here’s the blurb and a little excerpt from my new book, Jaci’s Experiment, which will be out tomorrow from Samhain Publishing…

“Jaci’s Experiment” by Bianca D’Arc

ISBN: 1-60504-127-0
Length: Novel
Price: 5.50
Publication Date: August 5, 2008

Love… the grandest experiment of all.

As a young Alvian lab tech, Jaci knows her place in the orderly, emotionless society her race has established on the planet Earth. While preparing a batch of experimental skin patches, she is accidentally exposed to a gene-altering agent. In a matter of days, she’s assaulted with raw, primitive, forbidden emotions she has no clue how to handle. If her superiors find out, she’s a dead woman.

Her only hope is to seek help from the human test subjects held captive in pens below the city.

Before the aliens came, cousins Mike and Dave used their psychic abilities to their advantage in business dealings. Now they use them to stay alive, keeping a sharp telepathic eye out for ways to help themselves and others improve their lot… or escape. Their friendship with Jaci has always been more than simply captives and caretaker. Now that her DNA has changed, their shared resonance is the stuff of legend.

Inevitably, Jaci’s emotions expose her to deadly Alvian justice. Suddenly she’s in the race of her life, seeking the only safety she’s ever known… in the arms of her human Resonance Mates.

Warning: This book contains graphic language, ménage a trois, naughty dreamwalking and scorching hot alien loving.

EXCERPT - (c) 2008 Bianca D’Arc. All Rights Reserved.

She couldn’t wait to talk to David and Michael. She moved straight to the monitor when she entered the room. Normally she would mask her maintenance of it with her other tasks so the subjects would have no idea there was any sort of equipment in the room at all. This time, she didn’t care about protocol. She needed to talk to these men without the monitors and she would do so now, before she lost her nerve.

She disabled the system and turned to face them with her hands behind her back and her breath caught in rather desperate apprehension. Both of them were watching her carefully, inquisitive looks on their handsome faces. The moment of truth had indeed arrived.

“What’s wrong?”

David’s concern brought another of those amazing tears to her eyes. She wiped it away, noting their stunned expressions and sank onto the edge of the table behind her, resting wearily against it as she explained her tale of woe.

She told them all about how she’d exposed herself to the agent and it was tall, muscular Michael who came over to gather her into his strong arms, not David as she would have expected. David, instead, watched her in a way that was unnerving. He watched her as if she was some kind of experiment, and she suddenly understood how and why these Breeds resented their captivity and the constant monitoring.

“I’m so sorry.” She sobbed, turning her head into Michael’s strong chest.

“For what, Jaci? You’ve never done anything to harm either of us. You’ve been as close to a friend as one of your kind could be given your lack of emotion. We liked you regardless.”

She cried a bit more, waves of emotion hitting her that she didn’t know how to deal with. Michael seemed content to let her ride the storm out in his arms and she didn’t want to move. He felt so good. So powerful and protective. She wanted to stay in his embrace, safe, for as long as she could.

Of the two, Michael was the larger and physically stronger. David was more cerebral and handsome in a way that made her stomach clench. He had a cunning smile that hinted at deviltry and close-cropped hair that she’d wanted to touch for a long time, just to see if it was as soft and fuzzy as it looked. His sharp features and intelligent, dark blue eyes were aphrodisiacs of a sort different from that of his more muscular cousin.

Because of his almost frighteningly strong masculine form, Jaci would have thought Michael would be less likely to offer her comfort. He had a rough demeanor and more athletically defined physique. He spent a lot of his spare time doing push-ups and other kinds of physical exercise that kept his body at a peak of conditioning unmatched by any of her other charges. She’d been surprised when he’d been the one to gather her close to all that amazingly warm muscle and brawn, but she loved the feel of him against her. With such a man holding her, Jaci felt like nothing could ever harm her.

Mike looked from the sobbing woman in his arms to his watching cousin. Dave was taking it all in, but he hadn’t yet made a move to help the confused young woman, and Mike was surprised. He knew Dave liked the look of Jaci. They’d had enough conversations about her since she’d become their jailer to know that for a fact. She was easy on the eyes and had a graceful manner, plus she never used her position of power to intentionally harm any of her charges. She was thoughtful and kind⎯or as kind as a person without any understanding of emotion could hope to be.

“Why won’t you help her?” Both men were reasonably strong telepaths and had other gifts as well.

“She needs to cry,” Dave said firmly in his cousin’s mind. “When she’s got this out of her system, we can begin to work on integrating the emotions.”

“This could be the break we’ve been looking for.” Mike was excited by the possibilities. “If the aliens are experimenting with reintroducing emotions into their people, it could help us all. I bet the O’Haras had something to do with this development.”

The rumor mill among the Breeds was fast and furious. With so many telepaths among their number, even the separation into cells couldn’t keep many of them from communicating with each other. Word had spread quickly about the O’Hara brothers when an old O’Mara woman and her husband and daughter had been captured. She’d stood right up to the aliens and told them what the eldest O’Hara had told her to say and surprisingly, it had worked. She’d mentioned her maiden name and suddenly the family had been whisked out of the general population. They had friends down in the pens and they’d kept up the communication, telling them what had occurred.

Mike knew there were free humans working to better conditions for them all and the O’Haras were at the forefront of the fight. He’d even heard tell of the half-alien boy one of the brothers had fathered and his work to help his human kin. Harry, they called him, but the aliens called him Hara in almost reverent tones. Mike had watched and listened carefully, compiling information and looking for his own way out of the cells.

Whether that meant a breakout or cutting some kind of deal, he’d had enough of captivity. It was slowly driving him mad. Only his cousin’s calming influence had helped him through the worst of it. Of the two, Dave was the thinker and Mike was the doer. It had been that way since they’d been kids. They’d worked together to build their business. Dave had written the books and Mike had marketed them. Together they’d made millions, but it was all gone now, and Dave was putting his education and talents to use, simply helping those few people he came into contact with stay sane — or as sane as they could given the circumstances.

“From what we’ve heard, the O’Haras have influenced the aliens more than anyone could have guessed. Maybe you’re right,” Dave mused silently to his cousin as he moved nearer the sobbing girl. “Maybe after studying humans for more than a decade, the aliens are finally coming to realize their own lack of emotion and what it’s cost their people as a whole. We’ve heard the rumors about the throwback crystallographer, right? He’s teaching humans now, so maybe they’ve found some link between emotion and their prized crystal gift.”

“We’ve speculated about that before, Dave. We have no evidence to support that theory, but now that we know they’re experimenting on themselves to this radical an extent, it makes sense to think something’s spurring them on.” Mike stroked her hair as his mind raced. Dave drew nearer and reached out his hand. Mike knew his cousin had a healing touch and he could feel Jaci’s tears winding down.

“Give her to me.”

Available August 5, 2008 from Samhain Publishing.

FireDrake Flies Today!

Finally, FireDrake releases today from Samhain Publishing! I say “finally” because it feels like I’ve been waiting a long time to get Drake’s story out there. It’s the start of a new chapter in the Dragon Knights saga with a lot more magic and action/adventure. I hope you like it as much as I do!

Here’s an excerpt - the entire Prologue - to whet your appetite and if you click the “more info” link it’ll take you to the Samhain website where you can either purchase the book or read the rest of Chapter One. Enjoy!

Click Here for More Info

Click Here to Buy Now

Prologue

Prince Nico, Spymaster of Draconia, and now King-Consort of the Jinn Brotherhood walked the battlements. The high towers of the Draconian royal castle were his home, and among his most favored places. His keen eyes searched the wide expanse, built so high in the clouds, until he found the creature he’d come to see.

She was a juvenile dragon, only about twenty-five winters old, in an absolutely stunning gold, pink and soft orange color. That’s what happened, Nico thought as he approached her, when a red and a golden dragon mated and were very, very lucky.

Jenet was one of the prettiest dragons Nico had ever seen, though she was often melancholy and refused to train with the knights and other dragons, since she had no knight. Nor would she choose a knight. She’d made her choice, she would reply when asked, and until the stubborn man died of old age without her, she would choose no other.

So Jenet served as a sort of royal babysitter, watching the younger princes when they flew as black dragons—something only a precious few males of the royal line, who could trace their lineage back to Draneth the Wise, could do. At the moment, Jenet was watching Nico’s younger brother Wil and the younger set of twins making lazy loops in the sky. They were playing tag, but the activity also served to heighten their fledgling flying skills.

Nico walked over and sat next to Jenet, his human legs dangling over the sides of the high parapet. He had no fear of falling, for if he did, he would simply transform into the dragon that shared his soul and soar away on tar-colored wings.

“How goes it today?” Nico had known Lady Jenet all his life, so there was little need for formality between them.

“Passing fair, my liege.”

“Please, Jen, just use my name. I’m sick to death of all this formality. It’s even worse now that my new wife has been crowned Queen of the Jinn. Thank heaven it’s mostly a ceremonial title.” Nico spoke mind to mind with the dragon, as only a few people could do.

A dragonish chuckle, complete with a smoky, cinnamon-scented cloud, answered him as Jenet moved her large golden head to study him. Her jewel-like eyes blinked once, fixing her gaze on him.

“You never coveted your brother’s throne, did you? Perhaps that’s the reason the Mother of All saw fit to grant you one of your own, King Nico.”

Nico groaned and clutched one hand to his chest in mock agony. “You wound me, mistress, to remind me of my woes.”

Jenet laughed outright at that, filling the air with smoky dragonish laughter. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this morn? As you can see, your little brothers are playing on the air currents above and all is secure.”

“I came to see you, actually. I have some news I thought you’d like to hear.”

The fire opal eyes blinked once as she regarded him. “And what is your news, Prince Tease?”

Nico chuckled, relishing the moment. His news could change her life and would definitely brighten her mood, if he knew Jenet at all. He drew out the moment as long as he could, heightening the anticipation, but in the end there was just no way to say it but straight out.

“Drake’s coming home.”

“Drake!” Jenet jumped to her feet faster than Nico would have credited. She was a nimble little thing for all that she was as large as any healthy juvenile dragon. She crouched on all fours, her wings outstretched and trembling in a show of excited eagerness. Her large head crowded him as he stood. “Is it true?”

Nico smiled at her soft, almost frightened tone. “It’s true. I had a special messenger from the Jinn arrive just this morning. Drake sent him ahead to make sure my brother Roland would stay put. Drake’s coming to personally deliver a message from the Doge of Helios.”

“Drake! Coming home!” Jenet rose up to stand on her hind legs and trumpeted her delight to the sky. Her magnificent pearl-like wings flapped happily, stirring up a joyful breeze as Nico watched, gratified and amused. It had been too long since Jenet had been this happy. It was good to see her so alive again.

And it was all because of Drake.

Drake had taken the eager light from her eyes when he’d left home fifteen years ago and she’d pined for him ever since. Now he was coming home, but for how long? Would he spurn her again? Or would he finally accept what was so obvious to everyone else who knew them?

Only time would tell.

Excerpt: Perfect

And now an excerpt from Perfect, my first contemporary novella with Tease Publishing…

“So, what do you think?” she asked when Rich reached for a second pastry.

“Fantastic, Cassandra, as always.” He bit off a large chunk and smiled.

“Come on, you know by now, I need specifics.” She rolled her eyes as they all grinned.

Cody stepped closer and took another pastry, though he didn’t eat it right away. Instead, he held her gaze as he licked his lips, and her blood seemed to catch fire.

“I like the mixture of fruit. Apple and pear, right? With maybe a hint of citrus? Was it lemon?” His smile sent strange signals to the muscles in her womb, though his words were innocuous.

“Lime, actually.” Was that her voice? She sounded hoarse all of a sudden. Cassandra cleared her throat, trying to project calm as the men looked at her strangely.

Rich took the platter from her hands. “Come on, boys. We still have work to do.”

The hands followed the platter back into the barn, right behind Rich. She barely noticed their departure as Cody stayed behind, watching her. He took a slow, sensuous bite out of the pastry in his hand, holding her gaze all the while. Cassandra’s mouth went dry. He even chewed and swallowed sexily. The man was far too potent and altogether hot.

“The pastry is perfect, Miz Cassandra, as usual. Light, flaky and sweet. Tastes good with the filling, but there’s something missing, I think.” Her brows drew together at those words, bringing her attention back to her work. “Here, try it.” He held out the pastry to her, holding it as if he expected her to eat from his hand. She hesitated and he grinned. “I promise, I don’t have any communicable diseases. And besides, this is the only one left. You need to taste it to see what I mean.”

Raising one brow skeptically, she leaned in and took a small bite of his pastry, jarred by the intimacy of the act. She’d never been this close to Cody, though she’d dreamed of being close to him many a night in her lonely bed.

Flavor exploded on her tongue. She tasted the pastry, the sugar, the tart apple and pear with the hint of lime. It was good. But Cody was right. Something was missing.

“Darn it, you’re right.” She looked up at him. “What do you think it is?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Strawberry? Just a touch, maybe. You’re the chef.”

“Strawberry.” A grin spread over her face. “I’m going to try that. Thanks, Cody.”

He nodded as the silence stretched. Tension rose between them as he seemed to study her in detail.

“You have powdered sugar on your face,” he said. She licked her lips, brought up short when Cody moved even closer. “No, let me.” He bent, shocking her into immobility as his tongue brushed over her cheek near the corner of her lips. When she didn’t move, he grew bolder, running his tongue over the seam of her lips with heart-stopping slowness until she yielded, opening her mouth to him.

ORDER NOW FROM ARe

Davin’s Quest is at #1!

I’m thrilled to report that Davin’s Quest hit the Number 1 spot on MBAM’s Best Seller List last night. Thank you to all who have purchased the novel and supported my writing these past years. I couldn’t be more thrilled! 

In honor of that accomplishment here’s a little snippet from Davin’s Quest for your delectation…

Rick woke to comfort. A comfortable bed, soft linens and a soft, decidedly feminine touch on his face. If he were dreaming, he wanted to stay asleep, but daylight tugged at his eyelids until he opened them.

“Good morning.” Callie’s voice floated to him as she sat on his bedside, her hand touching his cheek gently. The look on her face nearly stilled his heart. No woman had ever looked at him in just that way.

“What time is it?” He had to stop thinking about dragging her down so he could kiss her lips the way he’d dreamed of doing since the first moment they met.

“A little after noon. I just came to check on you and see if you were up for some lunch.” At that moment his stomach rumbled and she laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes.” She stood from the bedside and picked up a tray from the dresser near the door.

Callie stopped a few feet away from the bed, the tray still in her hand and just watched him, her head tilted to the side, her eyes narrowed in concentration. Rick started to sweat under her scrutiny. She was so beautiful and she’d never looked at him quite that way before, concentrating on him, on his comfort.

“Something’s different.”

Rick sat up and rested back against a pile of pillows. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Callie placed the tray on the bedside table. She sat on the edge of the bed and stared at him as Rick tried to stay calm. He’d always been careful to school his thoughts around this woman.

She reached out to touch his face, but he shied away. Immediately he regretted the move when he saw hurt cross her face.

“You know I’m empathic.” He nodded, not liking where this conversation was heading but helpless to stop it. “Well, you’ve always been blank to me, Rick.” She spoke in a low voice, her hands cradled in her lap. “But you’re not anymore. I’m starting to pick up…things…from you.” She blushed and looked down at her hands.

Rick swore under his breath. “Ignore it, Callie. Just forget all about it.”

She looked up until her gaze met his. “What if I don’t want to forget it? What if I can’t?”

Sneak Peek: Davin’s Quest Prologue

As promised, here’s a sneak peek at one half of the prologue from my upcoming release, Davin’s Quest. This section introduces one of our heroes and the way humans live in this future, post-apocalyptic world. This book is the second in the Resonance Mates series. Book One, Hara’s Legacy, will be out in print this March and is already available in ebooks formats.

Human 

Richard St. John was a hard case. Raised in the Waste since his early teens, he had only scattered memories of the way the world had been before the aliens came—before the attack from orbit tore apart the fabric of the world.

He’d wanted to be a doctor in the old days, but the crystal bombardment destroyed everything long before he was old enough to go to medical school. His mother died in the first wave, leaving his father heartbroken. But Rick’s father, Zach, was a survivor. He’d packed Rick up and they’d headed for the mountains in his pickup truck. They’d just barely made it before the next orbit when the attacks began anew.

Zachariah St. John had been both a doctor and an Army Ranger in the old United States and he taught his son everything he knew about living off the land and surviving in the wild. Rick’s old man had a sixth sense about nature and was able to keep them both safe through the waves of attacks that followed, each time the Earth rotated fully on its axis. They’d moved farther into the mountains, working their way north, into the deepest recesses of the Rocky Mountains. They kept up with radio reports about the decimated coastlines as tsunamis spawned by the massive crystal shards hitting the Earth’s oceans killed by the millions.

One day, their small transistor radio stopped working entirely. Only static met repeated attempts to tune in a station — any station at all. Civilization, as they’d known it, was over.

“Guess that’s it,” Zach said, stowing the antenna and switching off the radio. “We’re on our own now.”

The last broadcast had listed details of nearly unimaginable devastation. Coastlines all over the world under water from giant tsunamis. California separated down the line of the San Andreas fault. Massive earthquakes brought on by the crystal bombardment from space had finally clipped the golden state nearly in half. The ring of fire was more active than ever with two or three volcanoes erupting violently in the Pacific and Pacific Northwest.

The sky was dark with soot covering the sun, and autumn came early that year, but by the following summer, temperatures started drifting back to normal. The sun shone brightly in the sky—but so did alien craft.

Zach St. John took in the news spreading through the wastelands of the Rockies—now called simply the Waste—with his typical calm. They’d run into a trader one morning who told of tall, fair-haired aliens building a silver city on the plains. Rick asked his dad about it that night at dinner.

“I figured it was something like this, son,” Zach said as he dressed the rabbit they’d snared for dinner. “The attack came from orbit. First thing to go down was my sat phone and GPS. Not many world powers who could do that, and none that could launch an attack on the entire planet. Had to be something from outer space.”

“Aliens?” Rick wasn’t entirely surprised. They’d talked about various possibilities often during the early days. “So they’re not little and green like in the old movies.”

“According to the trader, they look a lot like us, but with elf ears.” Zach finished with the rabbit and looked at his son. “This changes things. Now that they’re on the surface, they might just start hunting. Up ’til now, all we had to worry about was other men. The stakes are higher now, because any race that can do what they did to our planet has got to have superior weaponry. You’re going to have to learn to defend yourself, and we’ll make plans for when they come.” 

Rick thought it significant that his father said “when” and not “if”. 

He spent the next ten years learning from his dad and growing to adulthood. They’d met a few fellow survivors along the way, but not many, and not often. They grew close in those years. 

Zach shared an amazing secret that helped keep them both alive. He had a strong gift of empathy with animals, and could sometimes pick up their thought images and see through their eyes, sensing when the animals of the forest were scared or felt threatened. He could also read people, but only when he touched them. 

Rick had his own secrets. He finally let his father in on the biggest of them. He could heal most wounds by simply laying his hand over them and thinking real hard. That was why he’d wanted to study medicine—to find out how he did what he did, but also to help people with his gift. 

Through their infrequent interactions with other survivors, they realized they weren’t the only ones with psychic abilities. It seemed like every single soul they met had something different about them. Many had small amounts of precognitive ability that had led them out of harm’s way before the attack began. Some were telepaths, some could move things with their minds. Others had combinations of skills that were often benign, but some were downright deadly.

All in all, Rick preferred to be on his own—just him and his dad. They didn’t need the society of others, except for one thing, but hetero sex was hard to come by since there were so few women among the survivors of humanity. Still, Rick grew into a good looking young man and the few women he was able to charm were as eager for him as he was for them. But dalliances were few and far between as the lack of females turned many of the male survivors into beasts. Women went into hiding for their own protection, though few towns existed with even fewer inhabitants.

“I pity women today,” Zach would often comment after contact with others. “They’re traded like commodities, forced into whoring or multi-partner families. That’s not the way it was, son. You should always remember that. You were old enough to know the way it should be. The way our family was. God knows, I miss your mother more every day, but I wouldn’t have wanted her to see the level of depravity to which we have sunk.”

Rick took all his father’s teachings to heart, but especially that one. He’d just been starting to date when the cataclysm happened and felt strongly that girls should be protected, not exploited. Every time he saw some poor, frightened creature creeping about a settlement under guard by one of her protectors, the lesson was driven home again. He’d never sink that low.

The likelihood he’d ever have a woman of his own was close to nil, but Rick didn’t curse fate—at least not too often. He had his dad. That was more family than most people could claim nowadays. So the St. John men lived off the land in their own small cabin out in the middle of nowhere.

Until the Alvians came. 

They heard the ships fly by in the night and then the miniscule sounds of one landing not far away. Silently Zach signaled his grown son to head for the woods behind the cabin. They’d planned for this kind of thing. Each man would fend for himself, since two together were more likely to be captured or killed. They had a rendezvous and backup plan already in place. 

Zach grabbed his son for one last hug before they headed out the doors—Zach out the front, and Rick out the back.

That was the last time Rick St. John saw his father. 

Sweat 70 - Day 3

I managed to write a bit more than 2000 words yesterday, which was great, but I also played a little with graphics. I’ll post some of the results here once in a while to help keep me motivated.   For example…

Now that’s what I call motivation! *sigh* Guess I’d better get to the writing for today, but before I leave you, a little further tidbit from Mr. St. John (who looks a lot like the guy above)   Here’s a tiny bit of his first meeting with Callie, as it stands now. It might change as I edit this manuscript, but this is how I wrote it yesterday…

“You’re an empath?”

She nodded, making an amused yet curious expression as she no doubt tried to feel what he was feeling. Rick redoubled his shielding. He’d be damned if he’d let her read him so easily.

“Believe it or not, I’m a very strong empath, but you’re a tough nut to crack, Rick. Why such strong shields?”

“It’s pretty miserable where we live. It’s become second nature to block.” Rick grabbed at the most likely excuse he could find.

“You have some empathy?” Callie stopped concentrating and looked up at him with an open, friendly expression.

“Some, but not strong.”

“Telepathy?” she asked in his mind.

He liked the feel of her thoughts in the intimacy of his mind all too much. “Some. But not over great distances.”

“Me either. My range is limited to two or three miles.”

“Yeah, that’s about my limit too.”

“So what has you so conflicted about joining Davin’s program? I can assure you he’s not like the other Alvians.”

“Yeah, I get that, though it’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen. I never thought an Alvian could have emtion.”

“It’s rare. But it gives him a unique understanding of what our people are going through. He chose to come here first to test because he knew of all the Alvian settlements, this one treated humans worst.”

Rick was surprised by the statement, but oddly he felt a flare of hope kindle inside him. He looked around the room, glad to see Sadie among those chosen for the program.

Watching the dear older lady, Rick spoke more candidly than he otherwise would have. “I’ve been doing my best to help them. That’s why I don’t know if I should leave. Who will take care of the rest?”

A soft hand covered Rick’s and shocked his gaze back to the beautiful young woman standing in front of him. “You’ve done all you can here, Rick, and you can continue to work toward better conditions for humans even more effectively if you come with us. That’s what Davin wants. It’s what he’s working toward—freedom for us all to live in peace.”

“How do you know we can trust him?”

Callie’s smile lit the universe as she turned back to Davin and took his hand. “That’s easy, Rick. Davin is my husband.”