The Huntress by J. Risk

Chapter One

I didn’t even get both eyes opened and focused before I knew something was wrong.

Where was the color? I was only seeing sepia? Everything was brown. Blinking rapidly, I tried

to readjust my eyes to see if there was any other hue. It didn’t change a thing and for the life of

me I couldn’t figure out why.

Sitting there, I tried to decipher what was going on and why I was sitting on the ground.

Looking down I ran my hand over the dried dusty surface. Why was I on the ground? Craning

my neck as far as I could in all directions, I looked around. Okay, where was the pavement and

cement? The buildings and streets I called my natural turf?

The why’s flying around in my brain suddenly decided the top question, was what the

hell was going on?

Squeezing my eyes shut, I struggled to recall the last thing I remembered doing. I was

hunting down a bounty—a nice one with a large dollar sign attached to her. I had tracked her ass

down and…

I confronted her? Yes, I was minutes away from calling Frank and telling him to get out

his shiny pen and sign my check.

So what happened between then and now? Not to sound repetitive, which is something

that drives me nuts, but what the hell was going on?

Startled, I started to check for bullet holes or the deep crevices that knives leave behind

in flesh. That had to be it, I’d taken a beating and this was that in between place you sit when

you’re near death’s door, but not quite ready to see what lies on the other side.

Finding no critical injury, I slumped forward and rubbed my head. There was some

rational explanation for this, there had to be. Had I been drugged? It could be some crazy

hallucination. Any minute now I was going to either wake up in my bed at home or some

hospital with a cheery nurse leaning over me, reassuring me we are going to be just fine. I only

had to wait it out a little longer and all would be normal.

To kill time until I woke up, I looked around some more. Wherever this was it looked

like a burnt out world. Not the charred kind of burn, but depleted and completely used up sort.


Sitting still wasn’t really a strong trait of mine, so I figured I’d get up and take a look

around, there had to be something to see around here. If my body was actually somewhere else

for safekeeping, what harm could come to me, right?

I staggered like I’d never stood before, struggling to get my balance. Whatever was

going on with me, my equilibrium was totally shot. Standing there swaying like grass in the

breeze, I turned carefully trying to see if there was anything around me except rust tinted dirt and


My heart stumbled around in my chest when I spotted someone coming in my direction.

Yes! I wasn’t the only one in this soulless place.

The closer it got to me made me the more I questioned my original conclusion. I didn’t

know, exactly, but it was not someone it was a something. No one label could describe it.

Standing over six feet, it had the shape of a man dressed in jeans and a large, very out of fashion

gingham snap up shirt. When I reached the face, I can only describe it as part wrinkle puppy dog

with floppy skin crossed with Freddy and Jason after the slash scenes.

It stopped in front of me and instinct had me reach around behind me under my jean

jacket for my raptor claw knife, which I put on as regular as underwear when dressing; and that

would be everyday, by the way. Relief washed over me when I felt the small circular handle. At

least while waiting to survive I got to bring my toys with me.

Big brown eyes assessed me slowly and I wanted to make the call that it was harmless,

but yeah, having tracked down anything from a sicko killer to a card shark in the last three years,

I knew better than to fall for sappy looks.

“Are you a magishian? You juisht appeared.”

A male voice, even though he spoke with a heavy lisp that randomly inserted ish into his

words. Then again if I had saggy lips like he did, I’d be happy to talk at all. I sized him up for a

few more seconds, trying to gauge whether he was really in front of me, or if I was having some

sort of psychotic episode. Was a magician good or bad? I decided the play dumb, being blonde

did have some advantages. “A magician?”

Those brown eyes developed a nervous quiver. Magician equaled bad. “No…”

He looked relieved. “Oh good. I didn’t want to have to bash you over the head.”

I grasped my raptor tightly and shrugged. “Yeah, me either.”

The sky brightened and began to glow a rust orange color. When I asked for some color,

I’d hoped for something out of the orange family.

“We better go, they’ll be coming soon.”

“They?” I glanced around quickly, not wanting to take my eyes off him for long.

He nodded and pranced on the spot, the nervous movement had me on high alert. “The

daywalkers.” He whispered.

Daywalkers? Did I even want to know? I didn’t think so, but this bizarre nightmare

wasn’t going to be complete if I didn’t ask.

Looking me over a few times, his eyes widened under the pressure of his drooping

forehead; that was quite the expression. “You’re not one of them are you?”

I walked in the day, night and even at dusk, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. I decided

honesty might work, if not violence was always a good backup. Judging by his expression

daywalker ranked on the bad list with magician. “I—I don’t know what you’d call me.”

Those sappy eyes looked me up and down a few times trying to figure me out. “You

better come with me. It’s not safe to leave you wandering around.” He looked behind him and

then motioned behind me and started walking.

I knew in my gut it was a mistake, but as I had no other real options… I didn’t know

where I was or what was going on and so far he knew more than I did. “Where are we going?”

Pausing he glanced over his shoulder and then lumbered along again. “I’ll take you to

Troy, he’ll know what to do.”

My eyes were starting to strain as the sky brightened. “This Troy, he’s in charge?”

He stopped so suddenly I almost ploughed right into his back. When he turned and

looked at me, his eyes weren’t a sad brown any more but were leaning more towards red. It had

to be from the strange color of the sunrise. “You’re not from Alterealm are you?”

“Is that where we are?”

He nodded.


That nervous jitter of his seemed to return all at one. “How did you get here?”

A reasonable question that I had nothing to offer that resembled an answer. “I don’t

know that either.”

His red eyes darted to the sky. “We have to go.”

Turning, he began jogging toward, well, nothing that I could see. Not wanting to find out

what he was afraid of, I ran along behind him. All I could think was this Troy person, if he was

a person, better have some answers.

He stopped again and dropped down onto his knees. Was he hurt? Surely that short jaunt

hadn’t winded him that much. He began tapping his hand on the ground. What was he doing?

Looking all around us, I kept watch for anything really, not wanting to meet these daywalkers

in the slightest. Just when I’d had about enough of his short break, he grasped something in the

sand and pulled a door in the ground open.

“We’re going to have to use the shortcut. We don’t have time to get to the main gates.”

Looking down into a hole with a ladder, I glanced around again and despite every muscle

in my body telling me to run and get the hell out of here, I started down the metal rungs into a

deep hole that would take me, hopefully back to friggin’ reality.


The Huntress
The Alterealm Series
J. Risk
Genre: New Adult Paranormal Fantasy
Publisher: First Realm Publishing
Number of pages: 200
Word Count: 121,000
Cover Artist:  Jared at Off the Wall Creation
Book Description:
What would you do if you woke up in another realm where the residents are beings from fictional tales?
Where all those things that go bump in the night are real and other realities do exist!!
Damariss Maxx just woke up in a world where all those things that go bump in the night are real.
An alternate realm where the residents are beings she thought only existed in fiction.
Will she find the way to keep life normal and simple for those unknowing without losing her own sanity?
All she has to do now is find a way to protect the people in her world from the nightmares that have bleed from this other realm into it and fulfill a prophecy that says she’s their huntress queen or doom this other world to a bleak, violent existence.
Available at First Realm Publishing and Amazon

About the Author:
I wanted to write a story that would fit into young adult, new adult and adult levels. Something that was serious with fun paranormal and afntasy elements that everyone could read and enjoy.
I’ve even decided to use J. Risk as the pen name for this to separate  this series from my other writing which is definitely adult reading  material.
Author Jacqueline Paige-Multi-published Paranormal Romance author of The Magic Seasons series, The Hidden Senses Trilogy, The Dream Series and more

Lovely by Elizabeth SaFleur



by Elizabeth SaFleur

Chapter One

The Jefferson Suite had a reputation. Everyone said so.

Christiana Snow watched Henrick, the sous-chef, slip a red rose into the silver bud vase on

the room service tray she’d been tasked to deliver. “There are some naughty stories about the

guests that stay in that suite.” He winked. “Let me take you to dinner, and I’ll tell you all about

She turned her back on Henrick’s smirk—and his eyes that never seemed to travel farther

north than her neck. Since the day Christiana started working at The Oak she’d fought the desire

to bend her knees to force his gaze to her face. It would only give him the wrong idea.

Instead she threw back two ibuprofens with her milk and then set the glass into a nearby bin

She felt Henrick’s eyes travel her body as she pushed the room service cart into the elevator.

“For a reporter’s daughter, you aren’t very curious,” he called after her.

Curiosity wasn’t the issue. The Oak, which stood mere blocks from the White House,

attracted politicians and paparazzi—and dozens of men, sporting earbuds attached to wires

disappearing into their dark suits, sent to watch them both. It took real concentration to ignore

the stories that the hotel’s staff collected like trophies.

At least the tips were good at the boutique hotel and restaurant, and the mundane work gave

her time to think—or think forward, as her father always said. And that’s what she was going to

do—think forward and move forward. She didn’t have time to get wrapped up in other people’s

lives and certainly not the pseudo reality of the D.C. politicos.

The elevator creaked to a stop. Water sloshed in the silver pitcher as Christiana leaned over

the cart to push the slatted metal door aside. A dusty, oil-paint smell greeted her as she started

down the hallway, lined with canvases of hunting scenes set in over-sized, gilded frames higher

than she was tall and wider than her arms could stretch.

Christiana took in a lungful of the stagnant air as she reached the Jefferson Suite’s double

doors at the end of the corridor. She knocked and listened for the sound of footsteps. No one

Her leg danced with impatience. Mrs. DeCord’s order was Christiana’s last task of the day,

and she wanted to finish it as fast as possible to rush off to meet Avery, her best friend.

Christiana had agreed to be her “date” at some society fundraiser that afternoon.

Christiana studied the rich mahogany crown molding, lining the long hallway. Gold brocade

wallpaper led her eyes to images of smiling women, draped in gossamer swaths of pastel blue

and green fabric. They stared down from their ceiling mural home, their eyes cold and full of

Christiana knocked on the door once more. After no response, she pulled her master key card

from her apron pocket and slipped it to the lock slot. The door cracked open but stopped against

something on the other side. Through the gap in the door, she saw a man’s shoe lying on its side.

She called into the room, “Hello? Room service. Ma’am?” No one answered though muffled

Well, she couldn’t wait. She pushed harder on the door, and the shoe slid aside.

The cart’s wheels whispered over the marble entryway floor. She announced herself one

more time. No reply. She picked up the man’s dress shoe, an expensive leather smell wafting to

her nose. She set it down beside a tufted chair in the hall.

A male voice echoed from the bathroom off the suite’s master bedroom. “No, Yvette.”

“Please take me. I won’t say a thing.” Mrs. DeCord’s voice reverberated off the tile.

Mrs. DeCord whined, “I don’t understand why I wasn’t invited. I’ll show up anyway.”

“You won’t do any such thing, Yvette.” He spoke her name like a caress. “Take off your

Christiana’s insides seized at the man’s abrupt change in tone. Maybe she had heard wrong.

After a long silence, she urged the cart forward, but the wheels bogged down on the plush carpet

The voice spoke. “Bend over, put your hands on the counter. Good. Look in the mirror. Eyes

Smack! A sharp slap pierced the air, and Christiana jerked backward as if stung. Mrs. DeCord

Christiana couldn’t break her gaze, eyes glued on the bedroom doors. They weren’t closed

completely. They were slightly ajar, a sliver of the interior showing through a small crack.

“Open your legs.” The man’s voice, sandpaper and velvet, rooted Christiana in place even

though her heart fluttered wildly. “Very nice, baby.”

Christiana took a deep breath to steady herself, inhaling musk mixed with the fragrance of

lilacs. Something else hung heavy in the air.

Should she call, so they knew she wasn’t trying to hide her presence? If they saw her, would

they realize she had overheard? Should she leave? If she abandoned the lunch, they’d know

she’d heard and run away, probably to gossip.

“Mmm, you like that, don’t you, sweetheart?”

Christiana licked her lips at the man’s chocolate-caramel tone. She tried to place the

voice—maybe he was a radio announcer. No, he sounded too sexy and way too dangerous.

Slap! Slap! Christiana’s leg bumped into the cart and silverware clanked. Water splashed on

the linen, and she stilled, but no new sound came from the bedroom.

She couldn’t abandon the lunch in the middle of the living room. She’d just have to be quick.

Christiana maneuvered the cart to the small bay window overlooking Pennsylvania Avenue. She

set up the silver and lifted the dome on Mrs. DeCord’s salad.

“Touch yourself,” the deep, rich voice said. Christiana’s heart punched at her ribs, and she

lifted one hand to her breast to still it. Her eyes darted to the doors.

She gulped and tried to shake off the sound of the man’s sexy intonation. Christiana tiptoed

over to the French doors of the master bedroom and risked a peek into the room. The bed’s

comforter wilted over one side of the bed, and sheets bunched in a tight wad at the foot, bulging

through the brass rails of the footboard. Pillows lay scattered on the floor. Braided black ropes

hung limply from the frame of the headboard. She envisioned a restrained body, spread-eagle

A chill broke out across her body. Instinct told her to click the doors shut. She winced at the

More whispers escaped from behind the closed doors. She couldn’t make out the words, but

the sensual rhythm of his voice rose and fell in a soothing, hypnotic cadence. Christiana’s ears

strained for the man’s instructions, for what he wanted Mrs. DeCord to do next. Footsteps

brushed across the carpet in the bedroom. The man spoke in rumbling purrs, approaching the

She bit her bottom lip when a thought arose about that strange, human scent. Sex. A pang hit

between her thighs as an image slipped into place of the faceless man—with that voice—putting

A long wail and an ecstatic groan drifted from inside the bedroom.

Christiana stepped back. She needed to leave—now. If caught eavesdropping, even

accidentally, she’d be dismissed. She clutched the silver dome to her chest like a shield and slunk

to the marble foyer. The man’s smoky voice oozed into the main room as the suite’s front door

She jogged down the long hallway to the elevator, punched the call button, and tried to

steady her breathing as the elevator creaked upward. The man’s voice still reverberated in her

chest. Relief coursed through her body, glad she hadn’t run into either of them inside, especially

him. One look and he would have guessed she’d heard, had sucked in the air, heavy with sex,

Her imagination settled on Mrs. DeCord pressed into the mattress under a dark, mysterious

man. His lips floated over her breast. Christiana shook her head in a vain attempt to stop the

image from evolving into the man slipping his hands between the woman’s legs.

Christiana hit the button twice more. Come on. She gave up on the antiquated elevator and

headed to the stairs. More questions surfaced with each step downward.

Did Henrik’s wink mean he knew? Who was Mrs. DeCord hooking up with in the Jefferson

Suite? The mystery man had done something carnal to her, something she’d wanted done, though

Christiana couldn’t imagine what. Something with ropes and slaps and Lord knows what else.

Maybe she should’ve listened when the other waitresses, huddled in the employee break room,

tittered about who slipped through the hotel lobby trying not to be noticed.

Then again, maybe not. She began to understand why her manager, Brian, had directed staff

to drop off the orders and avoid looking around. He had warned, “In the political climate of

Washington, D.C., some things are best not to see.”

Christiana dislodged her overactive daydreaming and ran to the staff room to gather her

things before clocking out. She jumped when her phone rang.

“Hey, get here already! I’m guarding your dress in the main ladies room. You know where,”

Avery said. “I never wore it, and you seem to like blue.”

Avery’s closet enjoyed a regular turnover, as the budding socialite wouldn’t be caught dead

photographed in anything twice. Christiana was the grateful recipient of Avery’s generosity. Her

hand-me-downs were really more like hand-me-ups for Christiana.

She grabbed her purse from her locker. “I’m leaving right now. How come this event is so

“Mom said it’d be like happy hour. It’s really so they can all start drinking earlier. Serve

“No one special.” She glanced in the small mirror inside the door and smoothed down a few

wispy bangs to cover up the two-inch scar on her forehead, now pink from exertion.

“Oh, come on. It’s an election year. Everyone wants to be seen.”

Christiana laughed. “You sound like my dad.” The silence on the other end signaled Avery

wasn’t pleased with the comparison. Another faux pas—something Avery said Christiana was

very good at making, like wearing the same dress to a charity event more than once.

“Um, do you know Mrs. DeCord?” Christiana asked.

“Sure. Former Miss Dallas, married to a high-powered lawyer. Well, at least for now.

Women like that go through men like wardrobe changes. Why? What’d she do? Spill it.”

“Oh, nothing. She comes in from time to time.” Damn, she shouldn’t have asked. Avery’s

natural investigative nature came alive when a fellow socialite’s name arose.

“Who was she with today? Not her husband?” Avery’s voice lit up with excitement.

“I don’t know what her husband looks like. It was probably him.”

Avery snorted. “Yeah, right. No one goes to The Oak with who they’re supposed to be with.”

“I’ll take your word for it. Look, I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?”

Christiana stuffed her phone into her purse and sprinted to the garage.

Cars choked Constitution Avenue even on a Saturday. Tourist season had begun in

Washington. Families clad in matching t-shirts and people carrying maps and cameras would

soon replace D.C.’s full-time residents, who would escape the city for Rehoboth Beach on most

She shifted in her seat and adjusted the air conditioning vents to blow directly over her

clammy chest. Christiana glanced to the National Mall alongside Constitution Avenue. Stopping

at a red light every thirty-five feet never used to bother her. It gave her time to take in the sights.

But lately the Washington Monument’s constant pointing to the sky created an unsettling feeling.

It only reminded her nothing really changes in D.C.

Christiana pulled up to the entrance of the Rosemont Country Club only ten minutes late.

Sunlight bounced off the brass plaque on the white brick pillars, the only announcement to the

outside world that the elite of Washington gathered at the other end of the dogwood-lined

driveway. Members of Congress discussed budget negotiations while golfing and bored wives

complained about Neiman Marcus inventory while sunning themselves on the terrace.

Avery’s family had held membership here since the club opened in the 1920s. Her great-

grandfather was one of the founding members. The Churchill women had spent countless hours

flipping from their backs to their fronts by the swimming pool and attending mixers and events

in the cool evenings. Avery reveled in the ambience. Butterflies usually took over Christiana’s

stomach at the thought of crossing the threshold of the country club though she attempted to raise

a little gratitude for Avery’s generosity in letting her tag along. Or drag me along.

Christiana handed her keys to the valet, whose traditional red coat was replaced by a

ridiculous number in black and pink. Oh, right, today’s event was a fundraiser for breast cancer

research. Great, she’d be in blue while everyone else draped themselves in various shades of

fuchsia and rose. She hoped no one would notice. She knew everyone would. Even when helping

a great cause, Washington feasted on mistakes, and failure to heed dress codes was a major

gaffe. It took a lot of time and money—none of which she had—to conform to all the rules of

She shook her head and tried to focus on not tripping up the stairs in her high-heeled

sandals. But memories of work today and what she’d overheard at the Jefferson Suite kept

replaying in her mind. Stop it. Chris. Think forward. She slipped through the massive oak door.

Elite Doms of Washington Series
Book One
Elizabeth SaFleur
Published by: Troll River Publications
ISBN: 978-1-939564-48-1
Book Description:
Can you have love and power at the same time?
Congressman Jonathan Brond has mastered his work, his reputation and the art of sexual domination while keeping his family’s political legacy intact. But a chance encounter with college student Christiana Snow promises something he didn’t think was possible–meeting someone honest.
When the charismatic man proposes a summer of sensual, sexual submission, Christiana leaps into his world—the antidote to her bland life. But Washington, D.C. is an unforgiving place; soon gossip and scandal threatens their relationship.
Yet, in a town of players, sometimes introducing a new game is the only way out. Who knew love would be the winning plan?
Stand alone. Not a cliff-hanger.
Available at Amazon   Kobo  Smashwords Goodreads
For a sneak peak at the Elite Doms’ attempt to bring a little discipline to Washington, D.C., curious readers can download Holiday Ties,
the series’ first novelette, free from Amazon and Smashwords


About the Author:
Elizabeth SaFleur is an erotic romance author who is finally sharing what simmers in her imagination—lots of alpha males, seductive encounters, and love. For many years she lived and worked in her novels’ setting, Washington, D.C., in public relations. In her thirty-year career, she represented or encountered some of the city’s powerful insiders.
Elizabeth now writes, tweets and posts under her pseudonym, Elizabeth SaFleur, since her former clients might be a little shocked at their past PR counselor’s new career choice.  Then again, perhaps they would fear they provided inspiration. (She has sworn secrecy.)
Her series, the Elite Doms of Washington, is contemporary erotic romance for the progressive woman—unafraid and unencumbered by society’s boundaries.
Lovely, the first novel in the series debuting in January 2015, was inspired one sunny day at an outside café in Washington Harbor where Elizabeth swore she witnessed a woman being lashed to a sailboat mast, happily. Lovely’s hero, Jonathan Brond, was born that day when he silently answered her unspoken question, “does she like that?” with yet another question: “Would you like to find out?”
Today Elizabeth shares twenty-eight, wildlife-filled acres in Central Virginia with her husband and dog, and is sometimes separated from her laptop to indulge in dance classes and visits to wineries and hiking trails with friends. She lives by one quote: “If you really want to be happy, nobody can stop you.”
Elizabeth is a member of the Romance Writers Association, the Washington Romance Writers, and avid reader of all fiction genres, but especially books with a happily-ever-after ending. Visit to drop her a note.
Publisher Website:
Author Google+ profile:

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Feel by Karen-Anne Stewart



“He’s going to act soon. We don’t have time to wait on a team to arrive. Andy and I will

handle him,” I tell Darrin, one of the best men I know, aside from Andy, before closing the

phone. Leaning against the side of the van, I groan. This bastard is good and that is thoroughly

pissing me off right now.

“Jensen, I’ve got one for you,” Andy states, stepping out of the van and slamming the door I

opened behind him, “but, I’m warning you, she’s got a mouth on her that rivals mine, man.”

“She?” Banging my head against the van, I let out another groan, “You took a girl?”

“Your southern gentleman manners need to stand down on this one. This girl’s got that sweet

accent, too, but don’t let that fool you; she’ll shove her fist down your throat while kicking you

hard in the balls. She unleashed some dirty southern charm on me and I had to restrain her.”

“You tied her up?” Pushing Andy aside, I go to open the door, “Shit, Andy, since when did we

start taking girls and tying them up?”

“Since this girl bit the hell out of me,” Andy grumbles.

Giving Andy a glare letting him know this discussion is far from over, I slide the door the rest

of the way open and freeze. The entire world stops when I see the dark caramel eyes that have

haunted me every damn night staring back at me. A thousand thoughts spin through my head,

but I can’t seem to form one coherent word as my chest aches from memories. Flashes of the

best moments in my life play on fast forward in my mind, right up until the worst night of my

existence strikes me like a bolt of lightning. “Saige,” I finally manage to rasp.

“Holy shit,” Andy lets out a low whistle, “so, she’s the one?”

Ignoring Andy, I watch the one girl who consumed me, healed me, fuckin’ wrecked me, slowly

blink as she looks at me so intently, it feels she’s staring straight into my soul, just like she’s

done a million times before. Her eyes are different now…guarded? Sad? Hours or a few seconds

pass. I don’t know which, before she releases the lip she’s been absently chewing on and speaks

in that soft voice that used to bring me to my knees, “Can you please cut me loose?”

Shaking through the fog, I glance at her bound wrists. Shit. “Of course,” I blurt, grabbing my

knife. As I place my hand on the tape, my fingers brush against her hand and she inhales

sharply, looking away. The sorrow in her eyes doesn’t go unnoticed, lancing my heart and

sending me back to the night I sent her away, the night I felt like I lost my soul. “Hold still,

okay?” I say as I slice through her bonds, quickly taking her hands in mine and rubbing her red

wrists with my thumbs. “I’m sorry Andy restrained you,” I begin, but my voice trails as I look at

her, not knowing what in the hell to say after all this time. She’s beautiful. She’s always been

beautiful but, now, she’s…breathtaking.

Saige looks at my hands holding hers and slowly swallows. I never thought I would touch her

again, and she feels just like I remember, better than I remember.

Andy clears his throat, and I know I’m going to catch hell later but I don’t care. The only thing

that matters right now is the woman I’ve thought about every day for the last four years.

I open my arms to pull her to me, needing to feel her closer, to make sure she’s really here.

“Damn, I’ve missed you,” I breathe, tangling my fingers in her hair as I brush my lips against her


“Don’t,” Saige whispers, pulling away, “please, don’t touch me.”

The raw pain in her voice makes me want to hold her, protect her, but I’m the one who caused

her pain. My chest aches seeing her hurting. I reach for her again, but she pushes me away,

anger replacing the sorrow in her eyes.


I place my hand over his, leaning my cheek against the warmth of his touch before backing away

so I can see him. I’m insane for falling for him again, but it seems my heart isn’t giving me a

choice at the moment, ignoring how the rest of me is scared as hell it will never survive if he

breaks it this time.

“I don’t want you to hurt,” I whisper. I don’t.

“Then, please stop fighting what we are together and get your stubborn ass over here so I can

kiss you like I haven’t seen your pretty face in four long fucking years.”

I take one step towards him and that’s all he needs to wrap me in his arms, pulling me against

his chest to close the rest of the distance between us as his hungry mouth collides against mine.

His teeth nip the fullness of my bottom lip then his tongue caresses and strokes the sensitive,

tingling skin. All strength in my body is stolen by the liberating dominance in his kiss, bruising

and healing wrapped in one breathtaking seduction. My knees no longer work, but the rest of

my body becomes alive, responding to his touch, awakening me from the emptiness I’ve lived in

for so long. This is what I’ve craved. What I’ve missed. His taste, scent, and touch have

haunted me, and I breathe them all in deeply now, terrified they will be gone again.

His fingers slide against my neck before softly tangling my hair in his fist. My head spins at his

gentle touch mixed with his rough, passionate kiss. My lips part, granting his tongue all the

access it wants, and he takes it greedily, sliding his tongue against mine, taming and setting me

free. His kiss is scorching, searing me as liquid heat pulses low in my stomach. I feel the damp

cotton pressing against where I need him to be so badly right now. Soft whimpers rumble up my

throat, the needy pants muffled against his hot mouth. Jensen’s hand pulls me flush to his body

and I feel him, hardened and throbbing, against my stomach. My gasp fills the air. I twist my

waist, straddling myself against the muscles on his thigh.


Her dark eyes are clouded with doubt as she searches me, needing me to tell her what I

see, needing me to be her strength right now after she’s been strong on her own for far

too long, and just needing me.  I want to rip the hearts out of everyone who has hurt her,

but I tame the rage so I can give her everything she needs of me right now.  “The second

I met you I knew that you were special and I don’t mean just because of your gift.

There’s this wild gentleness buried inside of you that is rare.  You fight for what you

believe, never backing down, even when you felt all the pain, all of the shit from

everyone fighting to restrain you.  You didn’t give a damn what you lost of yourself and

did what you felt was right, what needed to be done.  There aren’t many people like you

left, Saige.  You said I was your hero, well, I’m not the hero here.  You are.

“I’m sorry,” she blurts, rubbing her hands down her tear stained cheeks.

“For what?” I ask, using my thumbs to help her dry her tears.

“I don’t know,” she answers.  “For punching your friend, for being stupid, for


“That’s a helluva lot to be sorry for.”  My lips curve into a smile and another tear slides

down her cheek, leaving a hot, wet trail that I trace with my finger.

“I’m also sorry for how I’ve treated you since we met again.”

“You thought I sent you to a nut house.  Don’t sweat it,” I tease, trying to cheer her up.

“So that excuses my being a total bitch to you?” Her eyes are red and puffy when she

stops rubbing them and gives me a lopsided smile, looking so damn beautiful.

“No, it explains why you’ve been a total bitch,” I grin, giving her a wicked wink, “but I

have a whole other slew of ideas of how you can make up to me for your bitchiness.”

She laughs, the sound soft yet strong, and so fucking seducing, the sweet lull rumbles

through her throat like an aphrodisiac.  After what she said about Wes, I can’t be like

him.  She deserves to know she’s loved before she gives herself to me.  After all she’s

been through, I won’t risk the chance that she’ll get scared I’ll leave her like he

did.  There will be no doubt about how much I love her when we make love for the first

time; I’ll make damn sure of that.


Karen-Anne Stewart
Genre:  New Adult Paranormal Romance
Suspense /Contemporary
Date of Publication:  December 15th, 2014.
ISBN:  978-1502757746
Number of pages: 276
Word Count:  94,000
Book Description: 
The one whose emotions I can’t feel is the one who makes me feel the most.
I was a sensitive, at least that’s what I was told by the boy who saved me from the overwhelming emotions that consumed my soul, the boy who saved me from myself when my gift became stronger. Through the years, he was my redemption, my reason to take my next breath…then, he was gone.
Jensen always told me I was strong, but I didn’t believe him until I was forced to be strong on my own, and I kept breathing without him. I’ve taken 42 million breaths since the moment he sent me away. Now, four years later, he’s standing in front of me, and I can barely breathe.
This isn’t just a story about the abilities I possess; it’s a story about something much stronger…the love of the man who possesses every part of me.
Disclaimer – Feel is intended for readers 18+ due to strong language, mature scenes, and some violence.
Book Trailer:

Available at Amazon


About the Author:
Karen-Anne Stewart  is an author of New Adult Romance who doesn’t shy away from writing about sensitive issues and hot heroes.
She has always adored reading and has now fallen in love with writing. Her written works are The Rain Trilogy: Saving Rain, Healing Rain, and After the Rain, and the newly released standalone novel, Ash to Steele. Her debut novel, Saving Rain: The First Novel in The Rain Trilogy, was a nominee for the Book Junkie’s Choice Awards, and Saving Rain and After the Rain were nominees for the 2014 RONE Awards.
When Karen-Anne isn’t writing, she enjoys spending time with her family and friends, hiking, and visiting new places. She fuels her addiction of creating new stories by her only other addiction, caffeine, and listening to a myriad of musical genres. Tucked away near the Blue Ridge Mountains, Karen-Anne lives with her husband, daughter, three dogs, and their cat. She plans on writing new adult romance as long as her fingers maintain dexterity.

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Computer Love Inc. II by Kurt and Jessica Hansen

Our Dream Movie Cast, if Computer Love Inc. II: Gestation became a Film:

Marius: Robin Williams (Rest in Peace) would have been our ideal candidate for this character. He

was quirky yet exuded the warmth and complexity that we feel Marius has within him.

John: Liam Hemsworth (this is Jess’s pick) He has depth and often appears introspective, which

matches perfectly with John’s personality.

Zak: Zac Efron (also Jess’s pick) Aside from being terribly handsome like our Zak, Zac Efron often plays

characters who can be very funny. Also, they share a name!

Gavin: James Marsden, because he is skilled at coming off as a good guy…

Shonda: Naya Rivera – if you’ve ever seen an episode Glee, you know that Naya can nail the attitude

but can also pull off the seriousness that Shonda sometimes exudes.

Anna: Ashley Green is perfect for this role. She played a very quirky vampire in Twilight, and we think

she’d master Anna’s zaniness.

Emery: Jim Parsons (from The Big Bang Theory) – Emery is a brilliant, sometimes smug, nerdy kind of

guy. Who better to play this role than the person who embodies all of those characteristics on


Gabe: Joe Manganiello is perfect for Gabe. He can be quiet and brooding, but also exudes a

lumberjack level of manliness (yes, you guessed it; this is another one of Jess’s picks). Gabe is extremely

masculine, and Joe Manganiello has played a werewolf. Does it get any manlier than that?

Norlan: Michael Emerson (also known as Ben from Lost) fits the description of Norlan perfectly. He’s

difficult to figure out, and a bit older than the rest of the team members.


Computer Love Inc. II: Gestation
Computer Love Inc. Series
Book II
Kurt and Jessica Hansen
Genre: Science Fiction    
ISBN: 978-0989068338
Number of pages: 215
Word Count: 46,095
Cover Artist: Steven J. Catizone
Book Description:
After the sudden deaths of two previous Computer Love Inc. CEOs, Marius takes control of the company. Embracing the talents of his godson, John, and his best friend, Zak, he hires the boys to oversee the Companion Services Division.
Marius refines his breakthrough technology, the Brain Machine Download, and as a result, creates his double, M2, as the prototype. Together, they ignite the future of
Computer Love Inc. by acquiring an elite team of scientists to expand the company’s technological boundaries. Meanwhile, Marius struggles with the government’s demands for a clandestine initiative – the Secret Service Companion.
Between the looming government presence and the overwhelming force behind his new team of inventors, can Marius survive the outcome of his own creations?
Available at Amazon and BN


About the Authors:
Kurt and Jessica Hansen reside in northern New Jersey . Kurt has worked in the aerospace electronics industry for over three decades and enjoys the outdoors, writing, and composing music. Kurt is easily recognized with a guitar in his lap, a pencil in his mouth, and a piece of paper in front of him.
Jessica graduated from Montclair State University, summa cum laude, with a B.A. in English. Her favorite pastimes include reading, running and spending time with her family. She can usually be found with a book in one hand and a hazelnut coffee in the other.
twitter: @ComputerLoveInc

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Unknown Protector by Maggie Mundy


“Please don’t drop me, please don’t drop me,” Nicole repeated as she closed her eyes.

She didn’t like flying in planes, let alone being dragged through the night sky by an oversexed

scruffy angel who was too hot for his own good. Or was it her own good.

“I won’t let you fall. Look around before we go over. I reckon you’ve guessed the events

of tonight aren’t the way we normally do things. Humans aren’t meant to be aware of our flying

through the night sky which means I can’t let you remember any of this.”

She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. His face was close to hers as he gripped her

tight around her waist. It was too dark to read what he might be thinking from his expression. His

lips were so close and her own were parting at the thought he might kiss her. She trembled, but

not from fear anymore and hoped he couldn’t read her mind. They were being hunted and she

wanted a kiss, no she longed for it. He had to be putting the thoughts in her head.

She needed to get her mind off him so she gazed down at San Francisco. Her adopted

city stretched out below with steep streets reaching down to the harbor, while the lights on the

Golden Gate Bridge shone in the distance, reflecting on the water below. She smiled as a tear

flowed down her cheek. She had never seen it this way before. For a moment she forgot others

were after them or after her in particular. She peeked over Ridge’s shoulder and glanced back

over his wings as they glided through the sky. Three dark, winged shapes were following and

could be seen against the light of the full moon. Maybe the full moon could explain why strange

things were happening, because this was like staring at a scene from a horror movie, except it

was real.

The shapes of their pursuer’s bodies blurred. She turned back to the city but the lights of

San Francisco were disappearing. In the moonlight she focused on the face next to her. Ridge

smiled and touched her cheek with his.

“It’s okay. I’m gonna get you a new guardian and all of this will go away. I won’t let

anyone hurt you.”

She didn’t want a new guardian, she wanted Mira back. It went dark and reminded her

of when she went adventure-caving in Australia. The absolute darkness of underground where

not even a trickle of light breaks through, no matter how hard you look. She couldn’t see Ridge

anymore, but the closeness of him and the darkness amplified the sound of his wings. For a

moment they were all that existed in the universe. His lips touched hers and her mouth opened to

him only to have him pull away. Did he mean to do that?

“I suggest you close your eyes and give your mind over to me,” he whispered.

Nicole shook her head and tried to get herself back to reality, whatever that was. “I’m

not going anywhere with my eyes shut after tonight, and from what I’m picking up at times your

mind seems a bit murky to let you in again.”

“Suit yourself darling, but don’t blame me if you pass out.”

Pain sliced through her temple. She squeezed her eyes shut and instinctively hugged

Ridge tighter. His thoughts were in her head again telling her to relax, but this time it wasn’t

working. She tried to hold down the rising alarm of what would happen next. Somehow she had

an inkling it wasn’t going to be good.



Unknown Protector
The Midworlder Trilogy
Book One
Maggie Mundy
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Soul Mate Publishing
Date of Publication: 30th September 2014
ISBN: 978-1-61935-596-5
Number of pages: 243
Word Count: 88,000
Cover Artist: Fiona Jayde
Book Description:
Two things have helped Nicole cope since the murder of her husband. One is running her detective agency, and the other is her guardian angel Mira. When Mira is killed by a demon, Nicole accepts the help of a Ridge, a long haired, cigar smoking diamond in the rough with wings.
Things go from bad to worse when a replacement guardian cannot be found. She has to trust Ridge, which is tricky when she realizes there are no demons or angels, just parasitic aliens that humans have built the myths of these celestial beings around. Ridge isn’t an angel or a devil, but an alien half breed known as a Midworlder.
He is also way too sexy for his own good, or is it her own good?
Available at Amazon


About the Author:
Maggie Mundy lives in Adelaide, Australia and is a member of Romance Writers of Australia, and the local chapter SARA (South Australian Romance Authors).
She recently completed a Bachelor of Arts in Drama and English. She had a short story published in the Romance Writers of Australia Topaz Anthology Little Gems in 2010 called Sea and Vines. She has three books out with Rogue Phoenix Press. Two erotic novellas called Blood Scent and Blood Oath and a paranormal romance called World Change. She also has a supernatural thriller out with Soul Mate Publishing called Hidden Mortality and paranormal romance called Unknown Protector.
She has also performed for many years in corporate entertainment for which she wrote her own sketches, which probably explains why her head is so full of characters. She loves writing romance but thinks falling in love can be scary, especially in her stories where creatures of the night really exist.

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