Saturday, February 28, 2015


That's right. Due to changing policies on Blogger I've moved the site over to Wordpress. It can now be found over here:

It has all the same looks into the books we all want to devour, the same amazing authors (and new ones too!), but with a whole new and fresh look. So come on by, bookmark the site, or follow us for instant updates as soon as the posts go live.

See you over there... Moira Callahan

Friday, February 27, 2015

Assignment: Learning to Love (M/F) ~ Honor James



Georgiana Regina Lucille Fletcher, Gigi to those who know and love her, is a romance author who doesn’t believe true and lasting love exists. She knows of some rare cases that buck the convention, but they are the exception to the rule. Then she meets a man who goes above and beyond to see to her health and happiness. Maybe she was wrong.

Michael Burnett had only one job, ensure the bride married her man, and there were no complications. Simple enough in principle. Only it wasn’t the bride being targeted, but a feisty redhead who stole his heart from moment one of meeting her.

Close quarters during a nasty storm help form the bonds between them. But when he ships back out overseas for the remainder of his tour, what Gigi feels for Michael grows beyond anything she can describe. Now all she has to do is survive the attempts on her life and find her own fairytale ending.


“The only word I’m going to say is get naked, Master Sergeant.” She tugged her robe off, standing before him with just the towel around her hair since she let the one around her body drop too. She wasn’t ashamed of her body, but when he just stood there, she did shift from foot to foot and lifted a hand to cover her middle. “Was that too much too fast?”
“Hell no.” He breathed out on a groan. “Damn woman, you are gorgeous.” Michael stood there a moment longer before he shook his head and blinked. Bending, he worked at his boots, kicking them off as he tore his shirt over his head. Next, he got rid of his pants and socks. Straightening, he gave her the same chance to stare at him as he’d taken with her.
Gigi approached him slowly and reached out to touch him. Her fingers brushed the vee shape of muscles that went down his front, and she lost more than half her brain cells as she touched him. “Goodness. I don’t know what this muscle here is called.” She looked up at him and stepped impossibly closer. “But I swear it makes me forget everything that’s happening.” Licking her lips, she waited, needing and wanting more. “Kiss me again?” She asked and let her hands drift down so that they lightly brushed the girth of his erection and then wrapped her hands around the heated length of him. “God I’ve wondered all this time just how you looked and now I want to taste you.” She licked her lips and looked down at him. She wanted to lick him, suck him, god she wanted everything.
Groaning, he swayed closer to her, then away slightly. “You talk a lot when you’re nervous,” he said softly. Leaning his head in, he kissed her, backing her toward the bed slowly, and nibbled on her mouth. “Later, you can do anything you want, but right now I need you.” He stopped and muttered out a curse. “Condoms,” he mumbled, his brow furrowing in thought.
“Have an IUD. I had it put in the moment I came back because I knew that I needed and wanted to be with you. I wanted to be with you skin-to-skin.” Her hands moved over his chest and she turned and looked up at him. “I have nothing. I’ve been tested for everything under the sun because of cutting the guy on the island and whatnot.” She just wanted to be skin-to-skin with him now and for as long as he would keep her.
“Well you know I haven’t been with anyone,” he said softly. “I’ve been waiting for you. Had to, no way I could be with anyone else after meeting you. You sure?” he asked softly. Lifting his hand, he brushed his fingers slowly down her cheek. Michael stepped in closer to her, his skin brushing to hers with every breath they each took.
“God yes, I’m sure.” She couldn’t be more certain of anything at all, even if she tried. “Please.” She let her fingers brush over his skin and leaned up on her toes. “So no more talking.” She reached up and pulled him down to her, kissing him with the need and want she had for the last year.
His hands cupped her ass and lifted her from her feet. The brush of her comforter over her skin was cool. Slowly he eased his weight down over her, pressing her deeper into the mattress as he continued to kiss her. He let out a low moan that slid into her mouth, his chest vibrating against hers.
Her heels wrapped around his ass and tugged him closer. “No more teasing, no more thinking. I need you inside of me. Now.” She knew that was crazy, but it was the truth. She needed to have him loving her right now.
Licking his lips, he stared down at her. One of his hands slid between them and down to cup her pussy. His eyelids drifted shut as he slid a finger between her folds, spreading her juices around. “God damn, you are so wet for me, honey. Later, later I want a taste of you. Only when I know I’ll fully enjoy it.”
“Only if you let me do the same.” She lifted slightly, pushing herself against him as she did so. “God I love the way that you feel. Please, more.” She loved the fullness, the way that he would curl his finger and brush that sensitive spot inside of her. She loved all of it. “More.” It was a demand, pure and simple.
“Need to be inside of you, now,” he said. Withdrawing his finger, he lifted her leg up and out. Rocking his hips, he rubbed his cock through her folds. In a slow slide of flesh, he pressed into her pussy and filled her.
Gigi’s head arched back and she shuddered. Holy hell, that felt amazing. Her nails bit into his shoulders and she tugged him closer, her legs wrapping around his hips and lifting herself up so that she could meet him thrust for thrust. “So good,” she moaned with a sob of pure pleasure. She had known that they would be perfect together, now they were and she was happier than she could ever express.
“Look at me, honey,” he said. Each thrust jolted her against the bedding as they found their rhythm together. Over and over, he pushed deep into her slick pussy. His fingers squeezed on her thigh. “Let me see you, Gina. Look at me so I can see everything.”

Buy Now:  BookStrand

Author Bio:
Born in the mid-seventies Honor has always had a love for the written word. Whether she is reading a book from another author or writing a story of her own, she is always letting her mind expand and delve into possibilities. It all started off as scribbles for her, then a phase of poetry before she found her true calling in the erotic paranormal genre where her imagination is only limit.

Since beginning her journey as a published author in 2012 Honor says she has learned a great deal about herself and writing. She believes that it’s a never-ending journey, the mind always wanting to learn and to grow. With that comes a better skill and smoothness to her writing she’s discovered and begun to enjoy more with each story she creates.

Thankfully, as she puts it, she has a job that gives her plenty of opportunity to write whatever comes to mind with very few interruptions. Her biggest supporters are, as always, her family. Her two children and her husband are continuously providing her with laughter and joy, making the time she takes to write a little bit easier. Without them and their support she knows she wouldn’t be half the author she is today.

Author Links:

Website  ~  Facebook  ~  Twitter  ~  TSU  ~  Amazon

Thursday, February 26, 2015

Forever Mine, Massey TX 9 (M/F) ~ April Zyon

From the Author...

I’ve always been fascinated with Cowboys. I know, most people are but to me there is just something super sexy about a man who is willing to work his ass off for a living. Something that’s incredibly hot about a man who knows how to work the land with his own hands.

When I originally started Massey Texas with Rhys Hollister and Gwen Baker I never dreamed that one of the families central to the story would stand up and take center stage, but they did. The Carver Family stood out pretty much from the get go in this series and they had to have their stories told.

Massey Texas has been a wonderful thrill-ride fro me, each time the characters spoke they tended to throw me for a loop, so to speak, and I loved every single moment of it.
While I’m tentatively ending this series at this book, the 9th in the series, it doesn’t mean that I will never revisit it one day in the future. After all, there were a couple of babies born to the Carver family that might eventually need their stories told!

I truly hope that you have all enjoyed the Massey Texas series as much as I have, and I hope that you will continue to read the books that I put out as either April Zyon, or Honor James.

~~~ Peace and love my friends, and be good to each other!
April Zyon (also writing as Honor James)


Taking over her father’s practice was always in the cards for Athena Rhodes. What she didn’t expect was having to deal with the mob. Being an honest, law-abiding citizen, Athena does what anyone would do in the situation—she reported the threats to the local authorities. The FBI was quick to take up the case, and keep an eye on her. But things are about to rise to a whole new level.

Martin Carver’s life is a carefully constructed cover story of saving the world, one whale at a time. The reality is a whole lot more dangerous. As a covert operative for the FBI he never once thought he’d be seeing the woman who holds his heart under such dangerous circumstances. But when he gets handed a folder with Athena’s name on it, there’s no one that will keep him from protecting her, and finally saying the words “forever mine”.

Be warned:  anal sex


County Line

Massey, Texas

He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there staring at the sign announcing, “Welcome to Massey, TX Population 5,609 and growing!” but the hood under his ass was cooling, and the sun had reached its highest point. Hell, it was starting the slow slide toward the horizon.
It had been a long, long time since he’d been home. The last time he’d been there he’d flown in for his pop’s funeral, stuck around for the meal, and then got the hell out of Dodge. Since then, he hadn’t been home once. He called, though, every single weekend right after his mother had finished breakfast on Sundays. They would chat for exactly one hour and fifteen minutes. No more, no less. The woman always had enough gossip to fill that time, so he rarely had to say much of anything.
Yet, here he was. Staring into the abyss of the quintessential small town. Ranches and farms spread out as far as the eye could see and beyond. Nestled in the middle was Massey. His hometown, and the place he’d burned rubber to get away from the moment he’d turned eighteen. Unlike his brothers, Martin had always hated coming back. To him, it had felt claustrophobic. Whether from his family’s expectations, or from his own uncertainty about the future, he didn’t know.
This time was no different. So, there he was, sitting on the hood of his ‘66 Mustang. While she maintained her shape, he’d given her a few tweaks over the years. A new paint job when he was eighteen, and a new hemi engine when he was twenty-two. There were a few other not exactly legal additional elements to Eris, named after the goddess of chaos, strife, and discord. His brothers had actually named his car, but he’d let it stick. Hell, he’d even gotten a little name plate that was attached to the dashboard right over the speedometer.
Martin shook his head, leaning back on his hands as he continued to stare in the direction of the town. He remembered back in high school a rumor Frank had told him about. His older brother had apparently also started it, but he denied it with a smirk every single time Martin confronted him.
According to the “rumor,” if a girl managed to talk Martin into taking her out a date, she prayed he’d be driving Eris. If he showed up in his pop’s old pickup truck, then she knew she would be getting walked to the front door, given a peck on the cheek, and he’d promptly leave to never call her for another date. But if he showed up in Eris, the girl would be getting a tour of the backseat, on her back, and things would be a rocking.
Not once had Martin ever taken a girl out in Eris. There’d been one he’d thought about, right before leaving town for good, but she’d been too young, and he definitely hadn’t needed that sort of thing to follow him or her around for the rest of their days.
Athena Rhodes. Named for the virgin goddess of reason, intelligent activity, arts, and literature. A more perfect name for the woman in question there never would be. She’d always had an ethereal quality about her, always thinking before leaping, and was the one woman who still had him jolting up out of bed in the middle of the night from the dreams she starred front and center in.
Not the teenage version of Athena Rhodes either. Nope, he knew exactly what she looked like as of four weeks ago. Hell, he even had her photo in the folder sitting on the passenger seat of his car. The rest of what was in the folder was why he was there, despite digging in his heels with the director of the FBI. Fucking bastard found it funny that Martin didn’t want to go home for a visit and deal with the trouble Athena found herself in. In the director’s mind, it was two birds, one stone. In Martin’s, it was a colossal fuck up in the making. Especially if Athena was anywhere near it.
Athena, bane of his existence. She’d been just starting to come into the woman she would one day be when he’d left Massey. Now she was more than he could ever have imagined. Five-foot-seven, long, rich red hair the color of a wine with hints of copper and strawberries. Green eyes that could lighten with amusement or darken like a coming storm. Athena had the stereotypical redhead temper, though he knew from his mother’s gossip she rarely showed it any more. So she’d gotten it under control. Should be interesting to test that theory.
Pale golden skin, just a hint of a tan, with a smattering of freckles over her nose and upper curve of her cheeks. A slightly rounded face with amazing bone structure, straight nose, slightly pointed chin, gave her face a heart-shaped look. A long ,elegant neck he’d imagined nibbling on in his quest to discover if there were freckles anywhere else on her body. His dreams said yes, but Martin didn’t think he’d really ever find out.
To top off his perfect woman’s image, Athena had some meat on her bones. She was built like a woman, sturdy, and not like one of those twigs from Hollywood that would blow over if you sneezed in their direction. She was, quite literally, his dream woman given form. Or maybe, he should say, she was the woman of his dreams, if only he had the nerve to tell her.
His other problem with the woman. She got him all twisted up inside, and turned him into a babbling fool. Or she had. Martin really hoped she still didn’t have that particular effect on him. ‘Cause that would just be the fucking icing on the cake for this whole damned trip.
The sound of an engine pulled his attention back, and he let out a sigh when the truck got close enough for him to recognize it. All the time in the world seemed to have passed, and the damn pickup truck that was used around the Carver Ranch was still exactly the same. Squinting slightly at the reflection off the windshield, he waited for his brother to swing it around and park it behind the Mustang.
The crunch of boots to gravel told him where his big brother was, yet still, he waited. Only when the other man slid onto the hood next to him did he give a nod. “Frank,” he said quietly.
“Martin.” That was it, nothing else.
Course they didn’t really need to say much of anything else. Despite rumors to the contrary, ones sort of started by him, he and Frank had worked together more than once. They even talked on a fairly regular basis. While Frank had worked for a different branch, and under different mandates for the US government, Martin had always been his brother’s contact inside the bureau.
“Eris is looking good,” Frank said after another ten minutes of silence.
“She held up well on the drive. Only got a bit cranky with me outside of Dallas. But a quart of oil and she was purring like an overgrown kitten again.”
Frank snorted out a laugh at that. “I can’t believe you still have her.”
“Dude, she’s family. Quit trash talking my car.”
Hands up, Frank cracked a grin. A real grin. As in teeth and everything. While Martin was staring in shock, he missed what his brother was saying. “What? Sorry.”
“I asked you how long you plan on sitting out here. According to Willard, you’ve been here since eight this morning. It’s now nearly two in the afternoon.”
Heaving a sigh, Martin shoved his hands through his pale blond hair. Out of all the Carvers, his was the lightest in color, but his eyes were the darkest. The oddities of the familial gene pool. “Working up the nerve to drive across the county line is all.”
“Uh-huh. You do know that Mama’s already heard you’re here. And the fact you are sitting here, and not at her kitchen table where she can smother you with all that built up motherly love, means you are in seriously deep shit, little brother.”
Martin winced at that. Yeah, his mama would hug him, weep all over him, and then likely bean him with her rolling pin. Theresa Carver was in no way a pushover. She might play the part occasionally to lure the unaware in close, but then she struck. She could make a grown man in a full rage cry like a little girl in under two minutes. Without even batting a lash. She was that good.
“So, what has you here?” Frank asked.
Normally, he wouldn’t discuss it, but Frank still held his beyond top secret clearance level, and likely would as long as he was still breathing. “Athena Rhodes, or rather her dirty, lowdown scoundrel of a father.”
Frank’s head whipped around to look his way. “Shit. You got handed that one?”
“Well fuck me.”
Yup. Pretty much Martin’s exact thoughts on the matter.

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Author Bio:

Having been a lover of the written word all her life April has always wanted to expand her horizons and write something that could be shared with the world. Only one thing held April back, the fact that the letters and numbers mixed and jumbled more often than not. Diagnosed with Dyslexia when she was eight years old April had to work her butt off just to be able to keep up with the other kids in reading and writing, so her love for fictional writing was tossed to the wayside for the moment.

Time marched on, as it always does, and she forgot her childhood dream of becoming an author and instead focused on what she had to - creating a career for herself.

As the endless waves of time passed the shores became less rocky and more sandy, a place where she could find an even foot. That and Microsoft invented Word. Halleluja.

This is where April began her journey into the written world, the world that her imagination had been ceaselessly creating for her entire adult life. Now she has been given a chance to let her literary wings unfold and fly, thanks to her amazing publishers.

Now its time to let the dream take flight and watch it soar!

Author Links:

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

The Fox and the Hound, Bailout 2 (M/F) ~ M. Levesque


Holly is just restarting her retirement from a life of white collar crime when an old friend finds his way back to her. Peyton Shepherd, AKA The Reaper, is the bad guys’ number one retrieval expert when they are looking for someone, and right now they’re looking for Holly.

She usually doesn’t worry about these guys because she can con her way out of pretty much anything but Peyton has apprehended her before. This time he is a little more motivated to bring her in because the last time she left him handcuffed naked to a headboard, borrowed his identity, and stole his favorite car. Holly didn’t think a year was long enough for him to forgive and forget but if he did finish the job, she knew it wasn’t a meeting she’d walk away from.


I found Peyton sitting at the small desk. He curled his finger at me and I made my way across the carpet, wearing the bathrobe provided with the room.
When I stopped directly in front of him, he was staring up at me.
“I’m sorry I said those things to you.”
“I know you might not think very highly of me, Peyton, but…”
“I didn’t like the fact that you…were with Marcus,” he finished. “I shouldn’t have said that to you. It wasn’t fair.” 
Why did he even care that I had been with Marcus?
“If it makes you feel any better, I screwed that one up, royally,” I said honestly.
“You didn’t screw it up. You were just trying to protect him. He’s a nice guy. He’s not like us.” 
I shrugged and looked away, but immediately felt his hand snake its way between the folds of the robe and come to rest on the bare skin of my side. I looked down at him, but when I didn’t move away, he pulled me closer so that I was standing between his knees. He tugged gently on the robe and it fell onto the floor with a whispering of fabric across skin. He seemed to be memorizing every inch of me, and just that was the sexiest thing I’d ever watched a man do. He urged me forward again, bringing his face even with my breast before nipping me gently, his eyes rolling up to meet mine, as if asking permission to continue.
I reached out and ran my fingers through his hair. I lowered my mouth down to his and he immediately stood up, carrying me with him to the bed. Still clothed, he lowered himself between my legs and, from the feel of things, he enjoyed being there, very much.
“We shouldn’t be doing this.” I whispered. 
“You’re right,” he answered, pulling his shirt off and lowering himself back down until we were pressed warm skin to warm skin. He bit my earlobe and I completely forgot why I was supposed to be stopping him. He curled an arm around my waist and pulled me tighter against him with a happy growl and more kisses. In truth, I didn’t have the will power to stop him. After the daily regret of leaving my needs unmet the last time, I didn’t want to stop him again.
My breath caught in my throat when he rolled me over. He placed tickling kisses from the back of my neck down the length of my back, following the feminine curve of my spine. He got to my ass and bit me hard enough to send a shock through my entire body. He growled out his satisfaction and trailed one of his hands up between my thighs, tickling his fingers over the sensitive skin there for a moment before easing me onto my back again.
He stood over me, looking both dangerous and completely captivated by me. I wasn’t sure I’d ever been looked at by a man like this before. He slowly removed his clothes, taking his sweet time and driving me nuts.
I whimpered as he removed his boxer briefs. He smiled at me before lowering himself onto the bed, his body covering my own. “What’s your hurry?” he teased, rubbing his nose along the length of my jaw. “I know you’re a thief, baby, but I have to teach you the difference between instant gratification and real satisfaction.”

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Author Bio:

Marie lives with her husband/best friend in the beautiful valley town where she was born. She has been a life-long reader and avid writer but this is a debut publication for Marie. She believes humor is an essential part of life and likes to have it in all of her writing. She has plans for many more publications with Evernight Publishing in the near future.

Backwoods Bailout, book 1 in the series....


Lacy is recently divorced and decides she is going to live her dream of being a full-time writer. She uses every dime she has to buy a perfect little log cabin in the woods. Unfortunately, just as she’s getting settled in, the real owner of the house returns.

Marcus isn’t upset to find the curvy brunette sleeping in his bed, but he is surprised. He knew his ex was going to take their breakup badly but he didn’t think she was going to con someone into buying his house. Now, he finds himself bailing Lacy out.

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Tuesday, February 24, 2015

A Tempest of Passion (M/F) ~ Elyzabeth M. VaLey

From the Author...

Hi everyone! I’m thrilled to be here today with my recent release, A Tempest of Passion.

Back in 2013 an idea formed in my mind. Now, to be honest with you, I don’t quite remember how it happened. It could have been my Muse whispering in my ear, a picture I saw or a song I heard… I’m not sure. What I do remember is that two elements stuck out in this idea: a wolf shifter named William and the time period, the regency era.

With those two items, I set my fingers on the keyboard and wrote 50.000 words, successfully completing Nanowrimo 2013. Soon after, in an email I sent to a friend, I told her: The story needs a lot, I repeat, a lot of editing. I’ve written like a maniac but I’m very aware that some of the things on there don’t make too much sense. It needs to be fixed.”

It wasn’t a pretty sight. A few months later, I went into full editing mode, but alas, I was not happy with the result. There was something wrong with William and Emily’s story, which back then was titled Cry of the Lone Wolf.

I set the novel aside, upset that I could not figure out what was the problem. I spent several months working in other projects, trying to forget a shifter exiled from his pack and a woman that wanted nothing to with marriage. They were impossible to forget. I would see regency era pictures, pictures of women and wolves, men that resembled William, women that reminded me of Emily… and they would come to mind, begging me to finish their story, to make things right.

Finally, a few months ago, inspiration struck. Chapters were rewritten and erased, names were changed, new characters were introduced… and a story that started like a little summer drizzle became a full blown Tempest of Passion.
I hope you enjoy it!


Emily Bunsbury is most definitely not a fainter. She prefers to leave that sort of shenanigans to young debutants and to those desperate to land a husband. She is neither. 

Except last night she passed out and was rescued by none other than the town’s most eligible bachelor: William Dalton.  Of course, she wants nothing to do with him, but her heart and body don’t seem to be in agreement… 

Banished from his pack for a crime he did not commit, William Dalton does not have the desire or the time to court women, yet, when he meets Emily Bunsbury he is incapable of staying away. Certain that it is nothing more than a passing fancy and not the mating pull, he pursues her. 

However, as the unknown threat that expelled him from his pack strikes again, William realizes that Emily means much more and he must keep her safe. Now, if only she’d agree to his terms… 

As danger grows with each passing day, will the couple learn to trust each other or will their love be nothing more than a temporary tempest of passion?


“Perhaps you can enlighten me. You’re an accomplished dancer as far as I can see and you seem to enjoy it, even if you did tell me you didn’t particularly like it. Why don’t the other men ask you to dance? Must I be on the lookout lest you do something outrageous?”
They reunited on the floor. Emily extended her right foot forward allowing her weight to rest on it before closing her other foot and hopping. She bit back a smile.
“I think most men in town surrendered in their pursuit for me to dance,” she admitted after a moment. “I refused all of them for what I spoke was the truth. I am not fond of dancing.”
“Yet, you’re not chewing on your lips or pulling them in as you have a habit of doing when carrying out unpleasant duties.” William chuckled.  “Just like that. Why always so serious, Ms. Bunsbury? Is my company such a heavy weight on your shoulders that you cannot gift me with a smile?”
“Life is serious business, Mr. Dalton,” she replied, going around him in a circle. “There is nothing more odious than being forced to smile.”
“Of course, I know it well.” His friendly smile vanished, his eyes losing their luster.
“I did not mean to upset you,” Emily hurried to clarify, suddenly desperate to see the gay light present in his eyes again.
William’s lips curled upwards, though the gesture did not reach his eyes.
“It was not your fault, Ms. Bunsbury. You inadvertently awoke some sad memories. Life is serious business,” he conceded, twirling her, “but that is precisely why we must enjoy the precious good moments such as these, for we never know how long they will last.”
“Your opinion of good moments is definitely low if you count this to be one.”
She was teasing him. By God, she was teasing him and though it took him a moment to realize it, she was glad at the sound of his rich laughter. Her lips twitched and she found herself smiling in response to his boisterous mirth. 
“Of course I do,” he said after a few seconds. “I am dancing with a beautiful woman on a fine autumn day. It cannot get much better than that?” He winked, reminding her of his ulterior masculine motives and causing her cheerfulness to vanish. “Though you probably think differently,” William added.
The melody having come to an end, Emily curtsied and turned to walk away from William Dalton. She’d barely removed herself from the center of the room, when he gripped her elbow. Emily bit back a gasp. Every time he touched her something inside her awoke with a hunger that could not be appeased. Tilting her head back so she could look him in the eyes, she chose to ignore the way her heart leapt. 
“That was only one dance, Ms. Bunsbury. You promised me two.”
“Surely, you wouldn’t want to waste your good moments dancing another tune with me, Mr. Dalton.” She made to leave but his fingers on her arm tightened. Anger flared in his eyes and his good-natured smile vanished.
“You think little of yourself, Ms. Bunsbury. I am surprised.”
“You are in the wrong, Sir,” she said as politely as she could muster. “I simply believe that another woman would enjoy your attentions much more than myself.”
Pulling her arm from his grasp, she veered around, desperate for some fresh air. Faster than she could muster, he stepped in front of her, blocking her path. Curling her hands into fists, she fought against the urge to shove him out of the way.
“Mr. Dalton—!”
“Ms. Bunsbury.”
Emily’s eyes flew to his face at the warning in his tone, her wroth vanishing and scattering into the wind as their gazes clashed.
“I don’t take kindly to broken promises,” he whispered gruffly.
Her breath caught as he reached for her hand, his fingertips sliding sensually over her gloved wrist. Her pulse raced, urging her to move or succumb to the persistent throbbing between her legs.
“You may think yourself fast as a rabbit or cunning like a fox, Ms. Bunsbury, but I am a hunter and catching prey is my favorite sport.”

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Author Bio:

Considered weird by normal standards – what is normal anyway?- Elyzabeth M. VaLey enjoys making up songs about mundane things, doodling stars and flowers on any blank sheet of paper, talking to her Lab whenever he feigns interest and coming up with love stories to make readers dream.

From contemporary to historical or fantasy, she enjoys writing stories about good and evil, love and passion and all that comes in between happy ever after.

Author Links:

Website  ~  Blog  ~  Facebook  ~  Twitter  ~  Pinterest  ~  Goodreads