Thursday, September 29, 2016

The Graveyard Shift anthology by Jamie K Schmidt!



The Graveyard Shift
A Paranormal Romance Anthology
Jamie K. Schmidt

Genre: paranormal romance

Date of Publication: 6/26/16

ISBN: 1534805680
ASIN: B0177E5Z8S

Number of pages: 173
Word Count: 54,000

Cover Artist: Jamie K. Schmidt

Book Description:

Erotic, Sexy and Sweet tales of vampires, ghosts, mages, shifters and dreamers of dreams.

In this anthology, you will enter an adult bookstore run by two vampires and partake in the bloodletting and sex, see a witch accidentally summon a vampire who gains power through love making, and then go clubbing with an urban vampire.

But vampires aren't the only supernatural beings in this compelling collection of stories. Ghosts jam with their favorite rock bands. A Grail Maiden helps protect Arthur's cup, and a paralyzed cyber mercenary finds love inside virtual reality.

Amazon






Excerpt:

DEIRDRE WAS A EUROPEAN PRINCESS whose lineage, no one dared question too closely.  She kept close companionship with Viola, a dark Countess of equal renown and deadly beauty.  In a time where the night was feared, they flourished and fed at all the best parties of the nobility.
The Princess was as fair and fey as a moonbeam with silver hair and cerulean eyes.  She lived for excess and to play with her new found friends.
The Countess was the opposite side of the coin.  With raven locks and soulless black eyes, she was a lithe viper who struck quickly and gleaned minions from the throngs of addled noblemen.
But good times always end, even for immortal royalty and when the church's mercenaries, The Prophecy of the Eye, became too interested in the beautiful thralls encircling the Princess and the Countess, the parties suddenly stopped.
This cycle continued for many centuries.  Deirdre and Viola graced Czarist Russia, continued on to Gay Paris and finally to the New World in gin joints and sleazy jazz dives of the Big Easy.
While America lacked the polished old world charm and the distinct respect for one's betters, it also provided more of everything else, from money and thrills, to gambling and illegal liquor.
Its wide terrain allowed the Princess and the Countess to move from state to state until technology caught up with them and they learned the value of keeping a low profile.  They were able to exploit the innocence of the forties and fifties, but were swept away into a drunken frenzy of Free Love.
By the late seventies, they reached a rhythm that was blown away by the "Me" generation of the eighties and the cynical creep of the 90's that exposed the world's monsters in vivid detail across television screens and eventually the Internet.
Now in the new millennia, there is nowhere to hide and no other frontiers to explore.  They found out the luxuries of the day could be gone in an instant.  Swiss bank accounts could be seized and the Princess and the Countess could be among the nouveau poor, scraping their living feeding off homeless and runaways.  They have become merchants, biding their time and hoping for another renaissance of excess.
An ignoble end for two from the finest Carpathian bloodlines.
Perhaps a fitting end some may say, for however pretty the monsters are, they are still creatures of the night— or from hell as the church's mercenaries proclaim.
The church's vanguards have also migrated from Europe. And like the Princess and the Countess, they have morphed and remade themselves to fit the times.  Always hunting, they are similar to the women they chase, although they would balk to see the comparison.  The church mercenaries seek to destroy magic and any evil that lives outside their doctrine.
Whether their victims deserve their fate or not is irrelevant.
It was so much easier for both during the simple times, where murder was accepted and random acts of violence and carnage need not be explained for helicopters with news teams or amateur videographers.  They've learned a new dance for the modern world and it is kept to a very fine line.  Like the sword of Damocles, the truce poises hair thin.  It is not a matter of if that strand will break, but when.
And darkness save the innocents caught between.

Dream Killer
Flash Fiction By Jamie K. Schmidt

I swore I was going to do it. And this time, I meant it. He had finally gone too far,
pushed my last button, and said the unforgivable.
“When I married you my dreams died.”
The fight ended quickly after that. In the vacuum silence of words that can’t be taken back, he looked as stunned as I felt. But he put up his chin with false bravado and waited for my one-two riposte. I merely left the room.
The apartment shook when he crashed the door open. He peeled out of the complex driveway in a puff of smoke and burned rubber. A huge belch came from the living room and the stench of burning sulphur wafted into my study. I came out to investigate. My husband’s words had summoned forth a creature that was too small to be a demon, too malevolent to be an imp. The creature was straddling the couch. Its
yellow eyes were narrowed at me. It hissed, showing pointy teeth. I crept closer and it swiped out at me, its bony arms like broomsticks. His scissor bladed claws cut the sleeve of my robe. I backed away, threw a pillow at it. It caught it and shredded it into confetti. What was warlock born could not be witched away but it also could not harm me. I hissed back at it and cast a protective spell around my cat, whose back was arched like the letter A.
Three days of silence passed. My husband was grumpy and sullen, rattling the paper and slamming dishes to fill up the emptiness and the quiet. I moved like the walking wounded. There was a hole in my soul where happiness once lived. I was numb.
The creature would appear and disappear. Always watching, never attacking us. It
played with itself, picked its nose. But for the most part was content with existing in the silence of our world. If my husband noticed it, he gave no sign. I ignored it.
After a week, things gradually started returning to normal. I still pretended to be asleep when he came to bed, when I wasn’t in my office all night staring at the world map and wondering if anyone out there hurt as much as I did. We didn’t talk, but I found I could meet my husband’s eyes. I saw no apology in them, but I really didn’t expect to. The creature faded slightly, became translucent.
But as I became angrier at the unfairness, the creature fed on my emotions. As I thought, “Did he think that he was the only one who sacrificed, compromised?”, it solidified again. Its teeth and claws elongated and curved into Kris daggers. The creature followed me around and would preen when I clenched and unclenched my fist.
Back in our routine, my husband would go to work and come home. I stopped making supper or cleaning the house. He could do his own laundry and fend for himself. I made phone calls and robotically did what I had to do. He would stay in watching television or stay out late in bars. I didn’t care either way. The creature would curl up on the couch beside him or swing from the drapes, depending on our moods.
Today, I heard my husband in the shower and I walked over to the window of my study and laid my forehead against the window pane. The sensation was like eating ice cream too fast and I had a giddy recollection of summer time. The door slammed and jolted me away from tire swings and seagulls. I sipped my coffee as I watched him get into his car and drive to work. He never looked up. I wonder if he even thought of me.
The creature plastered its tongue on the window, making huge streaks. Shortly after ten, the movers arrived. I sat on my kitchen counter and watched them professionally pack up my things. The creature, hidden by my invisibility spell, danced around them and jumped from box to box.
“No, that stays.” I said when they started towards the TV set. I directed them to my office and went back to my perch, slowly stirring a head ache relief potion.
The movers were expensive. But if I had to carry box after box into my car all by myself I never would have left him. It wasn’t the first time, I sat contemplating leaving. I would grab a handful of clothes from the closet and got as far as the bed with them. I’d sit and wonder if I should donate most to the Salvation Army before packing. Then I would chide myself for giving up. And I would talk myself into staying. It was harder to leave than in was to stay. We had been playing at being happy for a long time.
I received my power from my dreams and prayers. If I had made him impotent by
marrying him, then I could rectify that by leaving him. I picked up my cat and my purse and walked out to the car.
When my husband came home tonight, I wanted him to see the living room as it always was. He wouldn’t notice that my books or my knitting would be gone. Maybe he’d watch TV for a bit. Maybe he would go into the kitchen to raid the leftovers or to pop a frozen dinner in the microwave. He wouldn’t notice my coffee mugs were missing or that my teapot collection had been lovingly removed.
But he would see the creature, formed out of his belligerence and sustained by our
negative emotions. I looked up from the parking lot to see it rubbing its butt cheeks against the study windows. They would make a good couple.

The End






About the Author:

USA Today bestselling author, Jamie K. Schmidt, writes erotic contemporary love stories and paranormal romances.  Her steamy, romantic comedy Life’s a Beach reached #65 on USA Today, #2 on Barnes and Noble and #9 on Amazon.  Her Club Inferno series from Random House’s Loveswept line has hit both the Amazon and Barnes and Noble top one hundred lists and the first book in the series, Heat put her on the USA Today bestseller list.  Her dragon paranormal romance series from Entangled Publishing, has been called “fun and quirky” and “endearing.” Partnered with New York Times bestselling author and former porn actress, Jenna Jameson, Jamie’s hardcover debut, SPICE, continues Jenna’s FATE trilogy.

Facebook: www.facebook.com/jamie.k.schmidt.1

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Jamiekswriter

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Blood Bound by Traci Douglas!!



Blood Bound
Blood Ravagers
Book One
Traci Douglass

ISBN: 978-1-945879-17-3

Release Date: October 10, 2016

Book Description:

Anna Frost had a bad feeling when her twin sister, Liz, told her she’d run off with a member of the notorious Otherworld biker gang, the Blood Ravagers. And her unease skyrockets when her sister subsequently vanishes. The police have no authority and little interest, so Anna decides to take matters into her own hands by infiltrating the group to discover for herself what happened to Liz, where she meets….

Dante, half demon, half human. A mix of two worlds, accepted by neither, he’s had no choice but to learn the hard way how to play whatever side of the fence kept him alive during his nearly 500 years of existence. Now, as second-in-command of the Blood Ravagers biker gang, his survival depends on keeping his humanity a secret. Dante’s ultimate goal is to fulfill the vows he made over two centuries ago to create a world where half-breeds can live in safety and equality.

But when sheltered schoolteacher Anna finds unexpected, white-hot passion in the arms of Dante, will her quest for the truth cost him more than he ever bargained for? Or will they find a way to save Liz – and their love – together?

Amazon    BN    iBooks

Tule Publishing  



Sneak Peek - Opening Scene From Seven Seals Series Book 4 by Traci Douglass

One look around Rick and Serpent’s should have been enough to make any rational person turn tail and run. From the sweaty press of overly sexed bodies to the awful disco music booming overhead, the place reeked of bad booze and even worse decisions. Not exactly the way she’d choose to spend a Saturday night, if she’d had a choice. Too bad they were paying her damned good money to bring this bastard in.
Thana Girgis weaved her way through the crowd of drunken revelers and headed toward the makeshift bar at the back end of the narrow structure. She’d been all over the world, seen way more of life’s underbelly than any twenty-six-year-old should, yet this was the first time she’d celebrated Mardi Gras in a double-wide.
A jacked-up, pimped out double-wide but still.
Tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood at alert and she sighed.
He was here again, watching her. At first she’d thought she’d picked up a stalker. Wouldn’t have been the first time. Then she’d seen him intercede during a convenience store robbery and recognized the finely tuned moves of a former covert operative. Which meant someone had hired him to follow her.
Plus, there was the strange fact that the first time Thana had locked gazes with his feline green stare, a connection between them had been formed—dark and strong and needful. That had been almost six months ago and nothing—not work, not distance, not time—had diminished the link.
She stood on tiptoe and searched the room as best she could from her five-two-inch height, but didn’t spot him anywhere. Just as well. Distractions of the sexual kind weren’t needed. Not when she was so close to trapping her prey.
A flash of movement drew Thana’s attention back to where it firmly belonged and she pushed her way up to the bar. “Shot of Jack, please.”
“You bet, chere.” The bartender’s warm southern drawl hinted at deeper creole roots. He placed the small glass before her and filled it to the rim. “Hunting tonight?”
“No.” She knocked back the liquor in one swallow then gestured for another. “I’m working.”
The bartender eyed her up and down as he poured her another shot then took her money. “Be careful, chere. Bad juju in the air.”
Thana ignored his warning and swiveled to survey the crowd once more.
“Aw, shit.” A large, heavily tattooed guy shouldered in beside her at the bar.
Dressed in tight jeans and a skimpy top, Thana didn’t resemble her normal staid self, but then again, that was the point. Considering her new neighbor was practically staring a hole in the side of her head, it was time to get this party started.
She turned and gave him her best deadpan look, silent.
“I lost my fucking keys.” The guy made a show of checking his pockets, then stopped and grinned at her, his mouth a mix of bad teeth and gold caps. “Can I check your pants?”
“Has that line ever gotten you laid?”
“Most times I beat the bitches off with a stick, but tonight’s your lucky night.” He held his arms wide, showing off a bushy set of hairy armpits beneath his stained Sons Of Anarchy tank. “Now c’mon over here and give us a kiss.”
Thana burst out laughing.
Mr. Rico Suave didn’t seem take kindly to her giggles because he smashed his beer bottle against the metal wall. The surrounding crowd continued to party, unaffected as shattered glass tinkled to the floor. Thana remained relaxed against the bar, waiting.
His first mistake came when he wrapped a beefy hand around her upper arm. He didn’t have a chance to make a second.
Within seconds, she’d grabbed his wrist and twisted, maneuvering him down to the bar while hoisting his arm behind him. She lodged a knee firmly between his spread legs to nudge him square in the balls. “John Barbour, you are under arrest for the death of Dr. Martin Dreben.”
His curses were muffled by the sticky bar top, but she still understood the words ‘whore’ and ‘die’. Unfazed, she slapped a pair of handcuffs on him and jerked him to his feet. “C’mon, Johnny. Someone’s expecting you.”
 She used his big body like a battering ram, shoving through the crowd toward the front door. Once outside, she glanced sideways before heading to her car.
Shit. There he was again, her watcher, and even more gorgeous than she remembered.
Beneath the purple neon lights, his smooth caramel-colored skin seemed to glow. And those lips—full and lush and just begging to be kissed. The material of his dark cotton shirt clung to his tall, solid form in all the right places, accentuating the muscled torso beneath. But it was still his eyes that caught her, held her captive, made her think he could peer into her very soul.
“Bitch, can we get this over with? I want my phone call so I can make bail.”
Dammit. She pushed her quarry across the street toward her small Ford Fiesta and clicked the unlock button on her key fob. She never lost focus, especially during a case. What the hell was wrong with her tonight?
She opened the back door and crammed Barbour inside then slid and locked the door before slipping into the drivers seat and jamming the keys in the ignition. Whoever the guy watching her was, the man scrambled her brains and that was unacceptable.
A blow to the back of her seat jarred her back to the task at hand. She glared at Barbour in the rearview mirror. “You break it, you buy it, asshole. And forget about bail. They’re going to lock you up tight for a long time, scumbag.”
“Fuck you. You don’t know nothing.” Barbour tipped backward and prepared to ram his feet into the back of her seat again, but never got the chance.
Something bulldozed into the side of her car, knocking it sideways. The force caused Thana’s head to collide with the side window and the glass spider-webbed from the impact. She vaguely noticed Barbour tumbling off the backseat and onto the floor with a grunt.
Time slowed and she struggled to clear her blurry vision. A blast of humid air breezed past her face and she regained her composure in time to see Barbour finagle open the back door and sprint toward an alley nearby, away from the crash.
At least she thought it was a crash.
“Son of a bitch.” Dizzy and disoriented, she fumbled out of the car and peered around the area. No fleeing cars in sight, no squealing tires. She pressed her fingers tight to her throbbing temple and made her way slowly to the other side of the vehicle to assess the damage. She stopped and squinted at the gray exterior.
Nothing. Not a scratch anywhere on the Focus.
Yet it’s current cockeyed position straddling the roadway and the curb clearly showed the car had been moved, forcefully, from it’s previous position.
Thana slumped against the passenger door. If her pounding headache was any indication, she had a mild concussion. Fantastic. Not only would she have pissed off clients to contend with, she’d have medical bills. Bills she couldn’t afford.
The world tilted before her eyes and she would have face-planted on the asphalt if it hadn’t been for a set of strong arms that came around her, pulling her tight against a warm, muscled chest.
She opened her eyes and raised her head to peer into the face of her savior.
Scratch that.
Her watcher.
Up close, he was even taller than she’d first thought, towering at least a foot over her.
Then he smiled and all her instincts went into overdrive.
Thana Girgis did not lose her shit over men, injured or not.
Not now, not ever. Period. Amen.
“Uh… thanks for the help.” She pushed away from him and this time he let her go. His expression looked as unsettled as she felt, but that didn’t matter. She had to get out of here and find Barbour. Now. She steadied herself against the vehicle as she walked back to the driver’s side. “Excuse me, but I’ve got a bad guy to catch. Again.”
She jerked the door open. Barbour would hopefully be more conspicuous with his hands trussed behind his back, but it would still be hard to find him in the all the Mardi Gras revelers.
Shit. Just shit.
She had started the engine and was about to take off when the passenger door opened.
“Mind if I join you?”
Thana blinked at him for a moment. If she’d thought his looks were deadly, his voice was lethal. Deep and smooth and laced with some exotic accent—the man was a thousand orgasms waiting to happen.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she fished it out without looking. “Girgis.  No. I…uh…I had a little accident. Give me a few more hours and I’ll have him in custody.”
The line went dead while she stared at her uninvited guest. “Listen, I appreciate your assistance, but you need to get out of the vehicle.”
“I’ll help you.” He smiled pleasantly and crossed his arms. “I can handle myself.”
“I’m sure you can, whoever you are, but I work alone.” She cut the engine. “Get out or I’ll have to throw you out.”
His grin deepened. “I’d like to see you try, canim.”
Turkish. The guy had just called her darling in Turkish. She hadn’t heard that term since her childhood in Cairo. A picture of her mother’s face, so happy, so carefree, wavered in her mind before it fractured into a thousand pieces.
Dammit. She shook her head and gripped the steering wheel tight as a fresh wave of nausea swept over her. Common sense said she should head to the nearest ER for a check up. Her bank account insisted otherwise. She needed to find Barbour and collect her fee.
“Get. Out.”
“I really don’t think you should be driving with you head injury, canim. Perhaps I should take you to the hospital, have a doctor check your…”
“I’m fine. And I am not your darling. Stop calling me that.” She forced her fists to unclench. “This is your last chance. Get out now.”
“How about a compromise?”
“Compromise?”
“Yes. You wait here and I’ll get Barbour for you.”
She snorted despite her discomfort. “Really. You’ll just walk up and grab him, huh?”
“Sure. He’s lying right over there.” He pointed to a shadowed spot against a nearby brick building. “After I knocked him out, I put him there for safekeeping.”
“Safekeeping?” Thana felt like a brain-damaged parrot, repeating everything the guy said, but her mind felt sluggish. Not more than a minute could’ve passed between the collision and Barbour taking off. Even if her stalker had been poised and ready for the escape, there was no way this guy could have reacted fast enough to knock Barbour out and save her from hitting the pavement. No one had those kinds of skills. “I don’t believe you.”
“Check for yourself. I’ll wait.”
Grumbling, she shoved the door open and climbed out onto shaky legs. Ridiculous. She didn’t have time to play his ridiculous games. This was stupid. Insane.
What the hell? Propped up between a drainpipe and a section of chain-link fence, slumped John Barbour, out cold and drooling into his scruffy beard.
“Would you like help loading him into your vehicle, canim?”
Somehow, her watcher stood right behind her and she’d never heard him move.
She looked between him and her quarry, uncertain. She didn’t work with a partner. Ever. And she had no intention of splitting any of her bounty with this guy, superpowers or not. After all, she’d done all the hard work—tracking Barbour for days, watching him in this pathetic excuse for a nightclub, planning the apprehension.
Thana kicked Barbour’s foot with the toe of her combat boot. The guy had to be pushing three hundred pounds fully ambulatory. Unconscious, getting him into her compact car alone would be difficult, to put it mildly. She turned and gave her new acquaintance a hard stare. “Fine. Just don’t get in my way. Understand?”
*
Despite her less-than-hospitable demeanor, Luther couldn’t help but be impressed by his new target’s tenacity. She’d hoisted the criminal’s legs into the air and carried her portion of his heavy bulk all the way to the tiny vehicle, despite what must’ve been a monstrous headache. “Want to tell me who the hell you are and why you’ve been following for months?” Her questions broke him out of his reverie in time to avoid having his fingers slammed in the car door.
He stepped back and wiped his hands on his jeans, his gaze steadfast on the ground. The fact she’d spotted his surveillance didn’t bother him half as much as the fact that the strap on her barely-there top had slipped down to expose a dangerous amount of cleavage.
With her long, silky black hair and wide, dark eyes, she reminded him of an ancient Egyptian queen, only twice as shrewd and far more dangerous. Her dossier had prepared him for her military-grade training and tough bravado—being orphaned at thirteen and enduring the harsh training of the Mossad would do that to a person. What it hadn’t prepared him for was just how lovely she was, or his reaction to her. He took a deep breath and changed subjects. He didn’t want to reveal too much about his purpose. Not yet. “Why have you chosen such an unusual profession?”
“I asked you first.” She waited, arms now resting on the top of the car. “I don’t like to be followed.” She eyed him up and down. “Who do you work for?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” With her body safely hidden by the vehicle, he ventured another glance at her face. “Seems we are at an impasse, canim.”
“I told you not to call me that.”
“And I told you I would help you. Based on what happened to your vehicle tonight, I’d say you could use all the help you can get.”
“You saw the people who hit me?”
“I saw the creature responsible, yes.”
“Creature?”

About the Author:
Traci is a USA Today Bestselling Author of Contemporary and Paranormal Romance. Her stories feature sizzling heroes full of dark humor, quick wits and major attitudes and heroines who are smart, tenacious, and always give as good as they get. She holds an MFA in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University and she loves animals, chocolate, coffee, hot British actors, and sarcasm—not necessarily in that order.

Website and blog: http://www.tracidouglass.net

FB Author Page: http://www.facebook.com/TraciDouglassAuthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Traci_Douglass

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/8112113-traci-douglass

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Traci-Douglass/e/B00AX4X9DS/

Wednesday, September 28, 2016

Awakening Kiss by Sharon Kay!!



Title: Awakening Kiss

Series: Watcher's Kiss #4

Author: Sharon Kay

Genre: Adult, PNR Romance

Published: September 13, 2016
As part of the Watchers, Rhys is used to all types of combat, pursuit, and interrogation. But hacking and tracking through hidden online channels is where he excels. Shattering codes and sneaking around firewalls comes as easily to him as a swordfight or street brawl with a predatory enemy.



Cooking up sweet new pastry creations is Enza’s dream job. Kitchen appliances never fail her, unlike every computer she’s ever touched. Her fledging baking business is doing well, yet as streetlights flicker with her changing mood, she can’t shake the feeling that she’s different from everyone else. But life as a regular Chicago girl is all she’s ever known…until one hot summer night.



Violence threatens both of them when her world collides with Rhys’s in a dark city alley. As a raw and formidable ability awakens in her mind, she becomes targeted by the last person she expects. Drawn to his sweet baker with a pull he can’t deny, Rhys vows to protect her—no matter the consequences that will change their lives forever.


My Review 

I absolutely adore Ms Kay!!! She is a phenomenal writer. I've loved her paranormal series since the first. She has some excellent characters with a wonderful plot. 


Enza has a bakery with her best friend. She wants to just be a little normal. She runs into trouble with some bad guys and Rhys is there to save the day. I actually love Rhys. He's alpha but he's sweet and sentimental. And she's her own individual lady and they make a fantastic couple!! They have some struggles and those bad guys are after Enza once she discovers she's not so human after all. Enza has to relearn everything she thought she knew to a world of pixies, demons, werewolves, nymphs! It's kinda awesome!! 


I had a wonderful time reading this one!! I can't wait for more!!! Gimme!! :) 5 PAWS!! 





Awakening Kiss Excerpt © Sharon Kay 2016


After a few minutes, they reached a split that made two branches. “It’s up ahead on the left,” Rhys murmured, and pulled her to the right hand tunnel.

“Then why are we—”

He extinguished his fire and crowded her against the cool concrete wall. “Remember what I said about scents?”

Enza’s breath hitched and her heartrate sped up. “Yes,” she whispered, breathy. “Touch?”

He leaned down to nuzzle her neck, and in the complete blackness her pulse beat a wild rhythm clear to his eyes. His hands moved to her hips. “Yes, bella. We walk in there, it needs to be crystal clear that we’re together, or the attention won’t stop.”

“Attention?” She laid her hands on his chest like she had before.

“Touches, kisses, getting too close. Arms around us, invitations for sex…hell, you’ll probably see it happening to others in there.” He inhaled her sweet scent, wishing their best lead on information didn’t lead them into a group of sex-seeking creatures. “But no one touches you or they’ll be sorry.” Slowly, he skimmed one hand up her side, to the bare skin of her bicep.

She shivered, and a trail of goosebumps stood out on her arm. He repeated the process on her other side, and a tiny moan escaped her lips. He framed her face in his hands, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs. For tonight, she was his. Maybe they were just playing roles, but damn if it was the most natural thing he’d ever had to play at.

And maybe that thought should have made him pause, but any hesitation was derailed by a new, intense, protective desire to show those wolves she was off limits.

“Mmm.” She closed her eyes and leaned forward, curling her fingers into his T-shirt.

“I want your neck, baby.” He stroked one finger down from her ear to her throat, eliciting another shiver from her.

Her head dropped to the side, giving him full access to her dewy, tantalizing skin. He brushed his lips across her collarbone and sucked at the spot where her shoulder started, inhaling her scent like it was oxygen.

Her arms went up and linked behind his neck. She wiggled close, rubbing her body against him. He groaned at her soft curves, remembering exactly how firm she felt in his hands. Blood surged to his cock and he dotted kisses along her throat, lingering below her ear. A spot he already knew she liked.

She whimpered and raked her fingernails through his hair. Tingles shot from her nails to his dick, making him flex into her. He switched to the other side of her jawline, kissing and nibbling along her skin, ensuring anyone who dared get that close would smell him on her.

“Rhys…” she moaned, lifting her head and scratching him again.

Without hesitation he slid a hand into her hair and gripped. Then forcing slowness, if only not to maul her, he held her still while he lowered his mouth to hers.












Sharon Kay writes award-winning fiction and can never get enough reading time. She loves winter and black coffee, and is endlessly inspired to write kick-ass heroines and the men strong enough to capture their hearts. Sharon lives in the Chicago area with her husband and son, and one weekend the idea for her Lash Watchers and tough leading ladies formed in her head, refusing to stay quiet until she put pen to paper. Her characters tend to keep her up at night, as they banter, fall in love, and slay endless varieties of power-hungry demons.



Sign up for Sharon’s newsletter to keep up with her paranormal world, see early cover reveals and be entered in periodic giveaways.



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Title: Awakening Kiss

Series: Watcher's Kiss #4

Author: Sharon Kay

Genre: Adult, PNR Romance

Published: September 13, 2016

As part of the Watchers, Rhys is used to all types of combat, pursuit, and interrogation. But hacking and tracking through hidden online channels is where he excels. Shattering codes and sneaking around firewalls comes as easily to him as a swordfight or street brawl with a predatory enemy.



Cooking up sweet new pastry creations is Enza’s dream job. Kitchen appliances never fail her, unlike every computer she’s ever touched. Her fledging baking business is doing well, yet as streetlights flicker with her changing mood, she can’t shake the feeling that she’s different from everyone else. But life as a regular Chicago girl is all she’s ever known…until one hot summer night.



Violence threatens both of them when her world collides with Rhys’s in a dark city alley. As a raw and formidable ability awakens in her mind, she becomes targeted by the last person she expects. Drawn to his sweet baker with a pull he can’t deny, Rhys vows to protect her—no matter the consequences that will change their lives forever.



Awakening Kiss Excerpt © Sharon Kay 2016


After a few minutes, they reached a split that made two branches. “It’s up ahead on the left,” Rhys murmured, and pulled her to the right hand tunnel.

“Then why are we—”

He extinguished his fire and crowded her against the cool concrete wall. “Remember what I said about scents?”

Enza’s breath hitched and her heartrate sped up. “Yes,” she whispered, breathy. “Touch?”

He leaned down to nuzzle her neck, and in the complete blackness her pulse beat a wild rhythm clear to his eyes. His hands moved to her hips. “Yes, bella. We walk in there, it needs to be crystal clear that we’re together, or the attention won’t stop.”

“Attention?” She laid her hands on his chest like she had before.

“Touches, kisses, getting too close. Arms around us, invitations for sex…hell, you’ll probably see it happening to others in there.” He inhaled her sweet scent, wishing their best lead on information didn’t lead them into a group of sex-seeking creatures. “But no one touches you or they’ll be sorry.” Slowly, he skimmed one hand up her side, to the bare skin of her bicep.

She shivered, and a trail of goosebumps stood out on her arm. He repeated the process on her other side, and a tiny moan escaped her lips. He framed her face in his hands, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs. For tonight, she was his. Maybe they were just playing roles, but damn if it was the most natural thing he’d ever had to play at.

And maybe that thought should have made him pause, but any hesitation was derailed by a new, intense, protective desire to show those wolves she was off limits.

“Mmm.” She closed her eyes and leaned forward, curling her fingers into his T-shirt.

“I want your neck, baby.” He stroked one finger down from her ear to her throat, eliciting another shiver from her.

Her head dropped to the side, giving him full access to her dewy, tantalizing skin. He brushed his lips across her collarbone and sucked at the spot where her shoulder started, inhaling her scent like it was oxygen.

Her arms went up and linked behind his neck. She wiggled close, rubbing her body against him. He groaned at her soft curves, remembering exactly how firm she felt in his hands. Blood surged to his cock and he dotted kisses along her throat, lingering below her ear. A spot he already knew she liked.

She whimpered and raked her fingernails through his hair. Tingles shot from her nails to his dick, making him flex into her. He switched to the other side of her jawline, kissing and nibbling along her skin, ensuring anyone who dared get that close would smell him on her.

“Rhys…” she moaned, lifting her head and scratching him again.

Without hesitation he slid a hand into her hair and gripped. Then forcing slowness, if only not to maul her, he held her still while he lowered his mouth to hers.







Sharon Kay writes award-winning fiction and can never get enough reading time. She loves winter and black coffee, and is endlessly inspired to write kick-ass heroines and the men strong enough to capture their hearts. Sharon lives in the Chicago area with her husband and son, and one weekend the idea for her Lash Watchers and tough leading ladies formed in her head, refusing to stay quiet until she put pen to paper. Her characters tend to keep her up at night, as they banter, fall in love, and slay endless varieties of power-hungry demons.



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