Maybe you only know me as a writer of action-adventure/military heroes/cowboys — Uncharted SEALs, Montana Bounty Hunters, Texas Cowboys, etc. — but I also write paranormal romances. They are, in fact, what I love writing most. I began with my Night Fall vamps and weres, moved on the write more vamps, weres, and ancient demigods in the Dark Realm series, and have written witches coupled with various forms of shapeshifters for my Beaux Rêve Coven series, but the two stories I feel are my best in the genre are my Caitlyn O’Connell stories, Shattered Souls and Lost Souls.

Today, I’m introducing you to Lost Souls. Here’s what it’s about…

Private Investigator Caitlyn O’Connell is tapped by Memphis PD to discover who has been using a Memphis hotel as his killing ground. Women are going missing, and their bodies are found inside the walls of the hotel. But the bodies themselves? They appear to have been murdered in the distant past. With ghosthunters and cops crawling all over the crime scene, Cait and her detective ex-husband Sam Pierce race to find the demon responsible before he kills again.

Now, that doesn’t even begin to describe a book that delivers one of the biggest shocks I’ve ever written. Enjoy the excerpt below!

Comment for a chance to win a download of one of my
Caitlyn O’Connell stories!

Darkness sank as murky as the sultry summer air, as heavy as a blanket pulled over a child’s head to hide the monsters lurking in a shadowy closet. Street lamps popped and sizzled, darkening then lightening, but failing to flare bright enough or long enough to chase away deep pockets of inky black. Cait was creeped out, since all she had were glimpses of silvery light from a full moon rimming buildings and casting deeper shadows to cloak alleyways and doorway stoops.

Another full moon. An event she was acutely aware encouraged monsters, both human and supernatural, to come out and play. Edgy and beyond bored, she almost wished for something out of the ordinary to happen, but then quickly changed her mind. The last time her job had given her a real challenge she’d battled a demon in an attic while a wraith latched its freezing fingertips around the man sitting beside her, slapping him around like a rag doll.

For just a second, she relished that last memory. At least Jason had been awake.

For the umpteen thousandth time that night, Caitlyn O’Connell sighed. This time exaggerating the sound. Loudly. Actually, more of a groan than a sigh. A sound that invited Jason Crawford, lying back in the seat beside hers, to wake up and keep her company. She was bored as freaking shit. Surveillance was the one part of her job she truly hated. In fact, she thought she might like having her ingrown toenails cut better than sitting in a dark alley waiting for something to happen.

The weather irritated her even more. Although she’d stripped down to a tank top and jeans, the insides of her boots were damp from the oppressive summer heat. Not a trace of a breeze stirred, and they’d shut off the sedan’s engine to be able to hear vehicles approaching, so the AC sat silent.

What good was having magic if she couldn’t even muster up a spell to start a breeze? She’d tried waving, punching, wiggling her nose, but nada. Worse, she’d tried to come up with a poem to appease The Powers That Be, but hadn’t found a line that sounded even remotely elegant with “wheeze” tacked on the end.

She supposed she’d used up her last favor asking for intervention with Worthen’s monstrosity, the Civil War–era demon resurrected in his tomb, for which she’d had to beg The Powers and a certain sorcerer for help defeating. Or perhaps they didn’t like how she’d ignored Morin since she’d fought the demon and won. Whatever. She was a PI, not a witch. And right now, she had a job to do.

So why couldn’t she and Jason be watching the Peabody Hotel? Or any of the nicer hotels in the downtown area? The Deluxe Hotel was anything but deluxe. The marquee above the entrance was missing a few letters and read, DELUXE HO, which on second thought appeared apropos for the sleazy dive.

The whole area had an aura of neglect. Trash overfilled bins and cluttered the gutters. Worse, a small tattered sign was taped to the hotel’s glass door: AA MEETING, 9 PM SATURDAY.

Mocking her. The very thing her ex-husband, and now sometimes boyfriend, had been nagging her to locate.

And worse yet, the car she sat in reeked of stale onion-and-anchovy pizza. If she didn’t know him better, she might have thought her partner had ordered it on purpose. But he’d munched away happily, while she’d chosen to drag in the scents from the overfilled bin they’d parked beside. Better unknown trash than fishy-smelling onion breath.

Her cheeks billowed around another harsh exhalation. How the hell could Jason sleep through all the noise she’d been making? She aimed a scowl his way, caught the quick lowering of his eyelids and a twitch at the side of his lips.

She gave a grunt and turned back to watch the entrance of the seedy old hotel where Mrs. Oscar Reyes was scheduled to meet up with her boy-toy. Or so Mr. Reyes had informed them this morning after hacking into his wife’s Facebook account.

“Get me pictures of the bitch,” he’d said, clearing his throat when Cait had given him a narrow-eyed glare. “I won’ believe it ’til I see.”

She’d eyed his oily hair, brushy mustache, and stocky frame and wondered why he was so surprised his wife had sought the attention of a lover who called her his “mariposa rubia.”

“Blonde butterfly,” Jason had translated under his breath since Cait’s Spanish was limited to curses.

Oscar Reyes was the typical slimy client they attracted—spouses seeking ammunition for divorce court, employers wanting an employee followed for proof they hadn’t been injured badly enough to warrant workmen’s comp.

Since Oscar had already done the legwork and found cyberproof of his wife’s infidelity, Cait wondered why the hell he’d hired them to snap the shots. A $500 retainer plus their hourly fee would rack up quite a bill in no time. But she’d refrained from asking him.

The nice fat check they’d gotten from the Memphis PD for helping find her first partner’s killer and three young women who’d been kidnapped by a demon hadn’t lasted long. So she and Jason were back hustling for smaller fish.

Which reminded her again of the half-eaten pizza in the backseat.

Ready to pitch the box into the trash bin, she paused when headlights flared as a car turned onto South Front Street. A low-slung sedan stopped in front of the hotel.

Cait waited for the beams to extinguish, and then raised her camera with its night-vision lens and took a look. Just as Oscar had predicted, Sylvia Reyes stepped out of the car, her bleached-blonde hair neon bright in the viewfinder. She wore an ass-hugging mini-skirt, four-inch heels, and a top that rode the curves of her full breasts.

Cait clicked off a couple of shots of the woman entering the hotel, then reached out and backhanded Jason’s belly. “Time to move.”

“Mmm, wha’?” he said, pretending to waken from a deep sleep.

She rolled her eyes. “Like you’ve been sleeping? It’s Reyes’s wife. Let’s follow and see if we can catch her with her boyfriend.”

“Sound grumpy.” Jason flashed her a smile. “The anchovies gettin’ to you?”

She shrugged, pretending the stench hadn’t made her slightly nauseous. “It’s your car. The smell’ll be here for a week.”

With quiet moves, they opened their doors. Cait quickly replaced the special lens and hung the camera on her shoulder before jogging to the entrance. She pushed through the grimy glass, lifted her head in a vague nod to the clerk at the reception desk, and walked to the elevators, eying the red digital numbers above the doors. There were two elevators. Only one was moving, and it stopped and held at floor three.

She elbowed past two men and a woman laden with cameras and equipment bags. One held out a device Cait thought might be a light meter, but she changed her mind when a red light beeped on the top and it clicked like a Geiger counter.

“Do you see that?” the chubby man with a Fu Manchu said, elbowing the skinny dude beside him. “We’ve got something here.”

“Told you there’s lots of activity in this old place.”

Activity? She eyed them again, read the logo on their bags, and rolled her eyes. REEL PIS: PARANORMAL INVESTIGATORS. As if. She stuck her finger in the elevator button, doing her best to ignore the morons. She hadn’t heard so much as a whisper or a wail since she’d entered the hotel.

“Faster goin’ up the stairs,” Jason said, pulling her arm with one hand and pointing toward the stairway door. He flipped the door handle and pushed through. “After you,” he said with a flourish of his hand. His grin said he knew how much she disliked racing up three flights.

She gave him the stink-eye and started the climb. When she reached the third-floor landing, she glanced through the door’s rectangular window, saw no one in the hallway, and opened the door.

The corridor smelled as bad as it looked—urine to complement the yellowed beige walls, mildew to enhance the brown-and-green plaid carpet.

Gasping to catch her breath, she looked left, then right, and caught a flash of impossibly blonde hair a moment before Sylvia Reyes turned the corner farther down the hallway. Cait hurried after her, on the scent of a woman about to cheat on her husband. She turned the corner, entering a hallway marked by a door frame for a double door that no longer existed. The corridor was empty. No room doors along the short hall closed to indicate where their target had gone.

Jason drew up beside her, his eyebrows rising. “What now? Listen for moaning?”

Giving him a shove, she took a step past the hallway door frame, and then halted, some instinct keeping her from pushing forward. Or maybe what stopped her was the yellow police tape covering one of the doors. Not something she had time to ponder right that moment because a strange hum sounded. A bulb popped, plunging the hallway into darkness. The hairs on her arms lifted a second before electricity arced from a light switch, sending out a bolt like lightning that shot toward the ceiling, then turned, traveling toward her, hitting doorways as though searching for ground. The jagged dagger of electricity darted, then blinked out, but not before she saw a figure, one in four-inch hot pink heels, her eyes rounding in terror—a figure she could see straight through to the piss-yellow wall behind her.

Darkness took the figure. Then another hissing arc flared from the light switch, brightening the hallway again. Sylvia Reyes was gone.

Jason grabbed her arm, pulled her back around the corner, and flattened her against the wall with an elbow digging into her belly.

The white bolt flickered past the corner, then dove to the floor, sparking out with a fizzle.

“Bad wiring?” he whispered.

She shook her head, shoved away his elbow, and stepped into the hall again. The faint smell of something burning lingered in the air. The hall was once again empty. And dark.

Cait held still, listening, and then she heard the sound. A soft wail. Like a distant echo. “Hear that?” she whispered.

“No. What do you hear?”

She swallowed. “Not anyone living.”

Then the faint sound of whispers rose, maybe half a dozen voices joining in chorus. Her hand dropped to the camera at her side. She flipped off the lens cap, raised the camera, and looked through the viewfinder. Nothing out of the ordinary, other than a really sleazy flophouse. Still, she clicked off a couple of shots. “Let’s go.”

“Don’t want to wait around until she leaves? A shot of the lady kissing her boyfriend good-bye would close this case.”

Cait shook her head, not wanting to voice what she suspected. Not before she was sure of exactly what she’d seen. “No. Let’s get back to the office. I have to look at something.”

Jason knew her well enough not to ask any more questions. The fact she was cutting the surveillance short told him they had a problem.

This time they took the elevator. The sooner she got out of here the better. Well, she’d gotten what she’d wished for. Something out of the ordinary had definitely happened.

Back at the Delta Detective Agency, Cait slipped the memory card from her camera into the slot in her computer. With a couple of clicks, she found the file of pictures and opened it.

There was Sylvia Reyes outside the Deluxe, her small cat-like features coated in too much makeup, her coarse blonde hair flattened to rest limply on her shoulders. Her expression was furtive, but excitement sparkled in her dark eyes. Another shot caught her too-tight skirt hugging her J-Lo butt. Then Cait clicked on the last two shots, unsure what she might see inside the third-floor hallway. Maybe nothing. Maybe something she didn’t want to see.

The shot showed an empty hallway. The photo was blurred, but the differences between the hall’s actual appearance and what was on the computer screen was startling. Gone were the yellowed walls and crappy brown and green carpet. In its place was wallpaper—a foiled gold-and-wine-colored paisley. The carpet was a solid blood red. The fixtures—lights, switches, brass plates on the door—were shiny and new.

“Where’d you take that?” Jason asked, hovering at her shoulder.

“At the Deluxe,” she said, closing out the file. She suppressed a shiver of dread.

“No kiddin’? How come I didn’t see that?”

She didn’t dare look his way. He’d see her shock and ask more questions. Questions she didn’t have any quick answers for.

“Tacky as hell, but—”

She gave a sharp shake of her head. “That’s not the way it is.” At last, she shot an upward glance.

Jason pushed out his lips. His gaze settled on her, waiting.

She knew he wouldn’t let her up from the chair until she gave him at least a clue of what was going on in her head. “It’s the way the hotel was.”

His gaze narrowed. “What do you mean?”

She rubbed a hand over her face. “I don’t know what I mean.”

A frown dug a line between his blond-brown brows. “I don’t think Reyes is going to pay us for those shots or our time since we didn’t get what he wanted.”

“Reyes is the least of our problems,” she muttered.

Jason groaned. “It was the anchovies, right? This is your revenge?”

Her mouth tipped up into a smirk. “You think this is all about you? Poor little rich boy.”

He shook his head, grinning, but the fine lines beside his hazel eyes deepened with worry. “Since this case looks like major woo-woo is involved, you have the lead. Where to first?”

Cait grimaced. Once again, she had no doubt they were headed straight down the rabbit’s hole. “I need to talk to Sam about that taped-off room.”

UPDATE: The winner is…Karen!
*~*~*

Let me tell you what I’d rather do than write. I’d much rather go junk shopping. See the “treasure” above that I found at a flea market? It has a heavy glass/crystal base with a lovely tarnished metal adornment depicting cherubs affixed to the top. Yup, a paperweight. I paid a buck for it, and I love it. I’d much rather comb through stalls for little treasures than sit my butt in a chair to write.

Here’s another couple of clues about what I’d rather be doing…

Those are both items I recently completed. I’d much rather make some more just like them. In fact, I’ve been on a whirling dervish reorganizing my very crowded, hoardery art room so I can make room to lay out a dozen projects I’m itching to begin—some painted, some beaded—all not the most important thing I should be doing, but so much more attractive to me at the moment.

I have been editing. And yes, MJ, I’m nearing the end of your story. I’m also working through edits of the stories that will appear in Stranded, which releases at the end of this month. It’s not crunch time yet, but I do need to light a fire under my ass, because I have to write a story for it, too!

And yes, I know I have a gazillion reasons, good ones, why I’m unable to commit to filling a page with new words. Grief, emotional exhaustion—all those things weigh a soul down. But it is true that for months and months I neglected my environment while I whipped through work and family obligations. I do need to restore order for my own peace of mind. (See? I’m making excuses for not writing!)

In the meantime, I’m setting little goals. Edit one short story. Edit 20 pages of MJ’s lovely novel. Then return to the art room to sort through the chaos.

So, here’s a question for you…

Is there anything you’re dragging your feet getting done?
Answer for a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card!

When You Close Your Eyes

Genre: Erotic Romance, Contemporary Romance,
Fantasy Romance

Publisher: The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
Audio Narrated by: Geoffrey Boyes
Date of Publication: January 28, 2019

ISBN-10: 1509223606
ISBN-13: 978-1509223602
ASIN: B07L162YB5

Number of pages: 422
Word Count: 114,000
Cover Artist: Diana Carlisle

He’s stepping out of her hot fantasies and into her life.

Dreams are the perfect shelter for fantasies, safe havens to step inside without changing our daily lives. For Lark Braithwaite, all that is about to change. During the last six months, Lark has dreamt of a mysterious Irish lover who knows what she wants and gives her exactly what she needs. In her waking life in busy London, things aren’t as ideal as her long-term relationship with her controlling fiancé Charles has hit a dry spell.

When Lark is called home to Oregon for her father’s funeral, she comes face to face with the demons from her past, but she never expects to meet her dream lover in the flesh. Niall O’Hagan steps straight out of her fantasies and into her life, and the powerful connection they share rocks her foundation. Although she’s dealing with the bitterness of her fiancé’s betrayal and his jealousy, Niall soon stirs Lark’s awareness of her superficial existence and reawakens her sexuality….and her soul.

ebook Copies Available at The Following Retailers:
Amazon | iTunes | BN | Bookstrand | Google Play |Kobo

Add to Your Reading List at:
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Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/4Sxz-_cvilk

Excerpt:

Her fantasy lover is real…

“Why are you wearing a suit and tie this time?” She squinted against the sunlight. Please, God, let this be a dream. He moved his head and put her in shade.

“This time?” He lifted an eyebrow, perplexed. “You’ll have to forgive me, lass, but I’ve no idea what the devil you’re talking about.” He maneuvered himself off her and sat upright at the end of the swing.

She tucked her feet against her, sat up, and blinked at him in utter disbelief.

“I came to knock on the door when I saw you on the swing. You tossed and turned, and with the way you grunted, I assumed you were in the middle of some sort of a seizure.”

He turned his head and licked his lips, full and abused by her kisses. A mushroom cloud of mortification bloomed inside her, steadily bigger by the minute.

“Erm, you…begged me to kiss you, and then you yanked me down. One thing led to another and, well, that was pretty much the way of it. I am only human, though I know it’s no excuse.” He swallowed and stared at her, his Adam’s apple moving in his throat. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have gone down when you pulled me, but it was strange—like you knew me or something.”

Lark leaned forward and rubbed her eyes. This couldn’t be real. He had to be a hallucination. When she opened her eyes, she’d see a man in his fifties with a receding hairline, glasses, and a beer gut. She reopened her eyes, and there he was: The full package.

About the Author

Roxanne D. Howard is a U.S. Army veteran who has a bachelor’s degree in Psychology and English. She loves to read poetry, classical literature, and Stephen King. Also, she is an avid Star Wars fan, musical theater nut, and marine biology geek. Roxanne resides in the western U.S., and when she’s not writing, she enjoys spending time with her husband and children. Roxanne loves to hear from her readers, and encourages you to contact her via her website and social media.

Website: www.roxannedhoward.com
Newsletter: https://roxannedhoward.com/subscribe/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/RoxanneDHoward
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RoxanneDHowardAuthor/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/roxanned.howard/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15019190.Roxanne_D_Howard

Tour Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

UPDATE: The winner is…Debra Guyette!
*~*~*

My new release, Water Desires, Love’s Siren Song book two features a chambered nautilus on the cover. It’s an important symbol to the story and one that has fascinated me for many years.

The chambered nautilus is a sea creature mostly found in the Pacific and Indian oceans at depths of between about 300 and 1500 feet. They have a spiral shell similar in appearance on the outside to a snail. The inside is made up of rooms that the animal uses until it grows too large for the space, walls it off, and creates a new room. They can grow up to two pounds in weight and their shells can have as many as 30 chambers. Their natural life span can be 15 to 20 years. Unfortunately, they are endangered due to people harvesting them for their beautiful shells and loss of habitat as the coral reefs die.

The chambered nautilus is often called a living fossil because it has not changed its shape in millions of years, yet it constantly grows throughout its lifetime. It is a symbol of strength because it can withstand the pressure of deep water. It is also a symbol of balance. Its shape is an almost perfect logarithmic spiral and an example of a golden spiral. This leads to way too much geometry for me. However, if you are interested, a lot can be found on the internet about the spiral shape.

To me, the chambered nautilus represents the complexity of the labyrinth within the eternity of the circle. Since it is a sea creature, it is a perfect icon for the Nerei, or mermaids and mermen who are the main characters of my books.

Did you know that the poem, “The Chambered Nautilus” by Oliver Wendell Holmes references mermaids? Here’s the first stanza:

This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign,
Sails the unshadowed main,—
The venturous bark that flings
On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings
In gulfs enchanted, where the Siren sings,
And coral reefs lie bare,
Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair.

In the poem, the nautilus shell is broken and lying open with the chambers exposed. The creature that lived within is gone. This should be an image of sadness and death but though poignant is actually hopeful. Maybe the animal has found another home, one that is even more wonderful than the shell he left behind.

That’s what the chambered nautilus means to the characters in Water Desires. It gives them hope for the future and something to hold on to when storms of all kinds rock their world.

The sea and its denizens are of vital concern to me. Too many are endangered (manatees, sea turtles, and whales, for example) and pollution is a major threat, especially plastic melded into virtual islands in the oceans. I’m supporting removing plastic in order to help save our water and our planet.

4Ocean is an organization that makes super cute bracelets out of recycled plastic. With the sale of each bracelet, they use part of the proceeds to remove one pound of plastic from the ocean. Here’s a link to their site: https://4ocean.com/?gclid=CjwKCAiA4t_iBRApEiwAn-vt-5bfdPJp-XGrCzIP5ZuC73fjs5IFJCov8b3mqvmnMl6YsmPhTj5WpBoC1I8QAvD_BwE

I will gift one reader a 4Ocean bracelet.

Do you think mermaids would hate plastic except as a recycled bracelet? Tell me your thoughts about how we should work to save the oceans. Or tell me which sea creature is your favorite. You don’t have to say why, although I would love to know. I’ll pick one comment at random and send that person a 4Ocean bracelet. You can choose the color.

Thank you for hosting me here, Delilah. I’m so appreciative of the opportunity to talk about the chambered nautilus, my new release, and my passion for cleaning up the ocean!

Water Desires

When a strange Nerei (merman) carries an unconscious and badly injured Bas in from the Aegean Sea, Nik (a human woman) knows she must get him to an island in the Atlantic where a hidden spring of healing water will restore her secret Nerei lover.

At the same time, her adoptive father is dying from a boating accident in her home town of Tarpon Springs, and he’s asking for her. While battling a strange illness which antibiotics won’t cure, Nik must figure out a way to save Bas and get home to help her father. When Bas follows Nik to Florida, he is forced to keep his distance from her.

He has already escaped one death sentence for having a relationship with a human and he can’t risk another one. Still, he’s furious when Nik turns to her old friend, a mage Bas dislikes, to help her unravel the hidden truth behind her father’s accident.

Water Desires is Book II in the Love’s Siren Song Series. The thrilling sequel to the award-winning Water Dreams will drag you under and not let you up for air until the end. If you like mermaids, mages, and magical romance, you’ll love this book. Here’s the link: https://bit.ly/mermaidromance

About the Author

Katherine Eddinger Smits started writing stories in grade school. While she raised her family and worked as a Clinical Social Worker at four different Veterans Affairs Medical Centers around the country, she honed her ideas for novels. Since she retired to pursue her passion for writing, she has published three paranormal romances. She has also written numerous blogs and book reviews. Katherine lives with her husband in Homosassa, Florida and Falling Waters, West Virginia. They have a daughter who resides in Alexandria, Virginia and a son, daughter-in-law and two granddaughters in Chesapeake, Virginia. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, Sunshine State Romance Authors, Florida Writers Association and Outreach International Romance Writers. Information about her books, blogs, reviews, and other activities is available at her website: www.katherineeddingersmits.weebly.com

I’ve been writing for a while. I have numerous series, standalone titles, and short stories. If you’ve never read or barely read me, I can keep you busy for a while! 🙂

One of my first series, that’s still ongoing, is my Night Fall series. It’s near and dear to my heart. And there are 14 stories in the series, so far. One of my favorites centers around a badass vampire readers met when he wasn’t acting villain-y early in the series. Of course, he had reasons to be grumpy and dark. You’ll meet his reason in the excerpt below. And there will be more stories. So, dive in. None of them are terribly long. You can consume them like candy. I dare you to give them a try…

Comment for a chance to win your choice of download from among the stories shown below! I’ll pick three winners!

Click on the covers to learn more about the stories!

Bad to the Bone

One night of pleasure…

His name is Viper—a dark mysterious enigma who rules the seedy, dangerous vampiric underworld. For one night, he will escape his murky prison and tempt an innocent.

…can last a lifetime…

Beautiful Mariah haunts him. Lures him from his den with a glimpse of his past. One she doesn’t remember. This night, he’ll be her dream lover. He’ll seduce her, make her fall in love with him—then leave her. Again.

One night of pleasure is all they must know.

But Viper leaves her a clue. One he hopes deep down will lead her back to him although he dreads the consequences, because he’s not the same man he was. He’s not a man at all…

Excerpt

One week ago…

Slim hips swished beneath a short, flirty skirt, drawing his gaze like iron filings to a magnet. The splash of large pink flowers on white stood out like a beacon in the darkness. Beneath the hem stretched a pair of nude legs, toned, and nicely curved at the ankles. Perfectly made to lightly clasp a man’s waist as he slid into moist heat…

He suppressed a low, rumbling growl from the beast rising inside. Something he rarely bothered to do in the squalid dens he roamed most nights. The creature lurking deep within was a sexual animal, a lustful, ravenous host who found partners only too willing to let him feast. But this woman was different. Her soul was pure. Her mind unawakened to the darkness.

He followed her as she left her apartment, sticking to the shadows, ducking into stairwells when she looked behind her as though checking whether someone followed. A frown marred her smooth brow, and her lips tightened. The clip of her heels on the pavement quickened.

Shoulder-length, flyaway brown hair bobbed across the tops of slender shoulders. The creamy skin of her exposed arms and legs swung in a rhythm that his heart picked up and matched, beat for stride.

Feeling more than ever like the true predator he was, he tamped down the shame that burned like battery acid in his stomach and continued stalking the woman who walked more briskly now along the darkened sidewalk.

When she turned onto a crowded walkway, her shoulders sank and her footsteps slowed as she relaxed.

Now, as she mingled with others strolling along the promenade, she believed herself safe. Little did she know, but her “spontaneous” decision to leave her apartment had been at his suggestion—a message telegraphed with tantalizing snippets of the smell of fresh salt air, the caress of a soft breeze, and a glimpse of sensual pleasure.

She hadn’t heeded her own natural inhibition. Hadn’t paused to check the clock and note the waning evening hours. Instead, she’d made her decision, wriggled into a sexy little skirt and snug pink tee, slid her feet into strapless sandals and bounded down the stairs, ready to kick off winter’s gloom in an unseasonably warm spring night.

He’d made sure she didn’t glance even once at the calendar resting on the bureau in her foyer. Nothing would trigger a fleeting memory. And while he’d provided himself the opportunity to see her, he’d decided days ago he wouldn’t use his persuasive gifts to bring her straight into his arms.

Tonight, he wanted to savor a natural seduction.

She paused along the gangway that followed the curving street through a long, outdoor strip mall. At the bottom of one set of stairs leading into a seafood restaurant, she lifted one foot, planting it on the first paved step.

As he drew back the suggestion that had led her here, her brow furrowed, and she shook her head. Her foot slipped off the step and slowly settled beside the other.

In a blur of movement no human would detect, he slid in behind her. “Did you forget something?” he murmured, careful to keep his tone innocently inquiring.

A gasp escaped, and her head jerked to the side then tilted up to meet his gaze. Her eyes widened, and then slid over his shoulders before rising again. “You frightened me.”

Read the rest of this entry »

UPDATE: The winners are Debra, Monica, and Colleen!
*~*~*

Post a comment and you’ll be entered to win a free download of this book!

Raw Silk

“… This is one hot book. This is my first m/f/m, m/f/m/f, f/f, and m/m all in one book! And whoa nelly, this was a smoking hot story….” 5 Stars and Top Pick, Night Owl Reviews

“…Delilah Devlin has a scorching hot read on her hands with RAW SILK…Ms. Devlin gives her readers a sexually charged romance…Ms. Devlin turned up the heat with her intense love scenes and memorable characters. I loved Raw Silk, and I would recommend this story to every reader.” 5 Angels and Recommended Read, Fallen Angels Reviews

“…The always exhilarating author Delilah Devlin knows exactly what her readers want – daring, erotic and wicked delightful stories filled with amazing characters, exciting story lines, passion and an abundance of emotions that will keep them riveted to the pages and once again she delivers the goods with RAW SILK…” 4 Hearts, The Romance Studio

A wicked, no-strings one-night stand turns unexpectedly complicated when three lonely hearts collide…

Camille sacrificed romance for success long ago. Now that the lingerie company she and her best friend built is hugely successful, she has a few regrets. Wanting to let down her hair and explore the possibilities, she agrees to meet a man at a bar for drinks only to wind up needing help when she rebuffs his sexual overtures.

Jake and Daniel are two firefighters hitting the bar for a quick drink after a long shift when they see a classy beauty fending off an overzealous boyfriend. With a flex of biceps they chase him off then settle in to seduce the lovely woman whose eyes reflect a hunger they understand all too well. What starts as a simple, pleasurable one-night stand, quickly burns up the sheets.

While Jake knows he can’t let Camille crush their relationship because of age differences, Daniel still thinks he can walk—until he gets a whiff of Camille’s best friend Lacey. Suddenly three isn’t enough.

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Excerpt

Nothing was better than a lip-gloss kiss—sweet, silky, made for savoring.

Jake Lassiter picked up his beer and drew on the froth, imagining another kind of cream slipping between his lips while he stared at the woman’s shiny pout. She didn’t seem to realize anyone stared as she slicked her lips with a clear lube, tucked a stray blonde curl behind her ear and closed the mirrored compact. Or maybe she did and the performance was just a tease.

“Dayum, bro. Gotta have me some of that,” Daniel Parker murmured.

Jake shot him a glare, just to check, and sure enough, his best buddy was staring at the same honey-haired beauty.

“I call dibs.” Danny scowled, humor gleaming in his dark brown eyes.

“Can’t call dibs. I saw her first. I watched her come in the door while you were paying for the drinks.”

“Oh yeah? What color is her hair?” Jake asked, leaning toward the bar to cut off Danny’s view.

“Who gives a damn? Did you see her ass?”

Jake snorted, annoyed they were talking like two never-been-laid teenagers, but that’s what usually happened after a long week when both of them were too worn out to rub a single brain cell between them. That either had been able to lift bleary eyes past their beers said a lot for the woman’s appeal. She shone like a beacon in the badly lit bar.

“Why not let the lady make her own choice?” Danny drawled.

“Like she’d come near either one of us,” he muttered, his gaze sweeping the expensive cut of her navy suit, the sleek fall of her chin-length hair and understated makeup. She wore “class” like he did a pair of well-washed jeans—comfortably.

Still, it had been her expression that had snagged his attention. Something soft and wistful shone in her large, dark eyes. She wished she was anywhere but here. Read the rest of this entry »

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“Women—apparently even enemy women—rendered him awkward, nervous. Stupid. He lacked Nick’s charisma, and Dev’s bravado. Over the years he’d tried to emulate both and failed miserably. He was just Curtis, a blend of Keeper and computer geek.”

Yep, that just about sums up Curtis. But he’s going to have to rise to a challenge the likes of which he’s never seen before. Because his realm as he’s known it is about to get turned upside down.

Enter Jordan.

“So then, this was it. This Keeper would finish the job. Forsaken, betrayed by her own people, he would put her down like a horse fallen lame, mercifully and unwittingly ending her misery. Was that some kind of warped, twisted justice, or not? Even if the Keeper didn’t kill her, without the dark energy, she would die.”

Jordan is in store for a journey of her own. In fact, I chose her name because it means ‘rebirth’ to me – The river’s name in Hebrew is (Yarden), meaning “descend” or “flow down”.

She tells Curtis: “Until I met you, my life felt like. . .” She seemed to search for words. “Like I’m dreaming I’m naked in a crowd but I never wake up.”

And she’s bewitched Curtis: “To his surprise, she grinned back briefly. It was enough to light up her face, and his heart. Had he honestly once thought no one would describe her as beautiful?”

And what’s the significance of the name Curtis? To me, it’s not a sexy or suave name. It’s the name of a hard working, no frills, practical Keeper, which is exactly what he is. But he’s got a sweet, sexy side too…

Plus, did you ever meet someone who just made an impression on you, for whatever reason? For me, as a writer, I guess that translates into the potential to be a character in a book. It was like that for me, when quite randomly, I was introduced to a Curtis, several years ago, and never have seen him again. But his look served as inspiration….

“All her faculties fully intact for the first time in days, she studied him intently. Tall, maybe six-two. Again, she noted his lean, wiry build, clad in jeans and a T-shirt, Vans on his feet. Not a body cultivated at the gym, but one maintained through a healthy lifestyle. Hair unruly around the edges. Inky blue, close-set eyes, which at the moment appeared perplexed and wary. A long, straight nose. Sculpted lips, drawn taut by a scowl. Shifting his weight, he crossed his arms, his stance matching his hard, uncompromising expression.”

INSIDE THE INSPIRATION ~ The entire Crossing Realms series was inspired by some very intense, very vivid dreams I had about my father after he’d passed. I know now they were visitations, and I treasure them. Have you had a similar, or other psychic experience?

The Crossing Realms series ~ Sacrifice or salvation? A chosen psychic few may be both. As the city’s Keepers battle Betrayers to save the human race, all’s not fair in love and war.

THE BETRAYER ~ Can a Betrayer fight alongside a Keeper? ~ He’d betray his clan for her. She’s a soldier to the core – but for which side? As they battle to save the human race, how high a price will loyalty—and love—demand?

Find out in THE BETRAYER, available now on Amazon…

REBECCA E. NEELY, AUTHOR
~ Romance. Paranormal. Suspense.

Rebecca is a writer, storyteller, author and blogger. A sucker for a happy ending, Rebecca strives to write the kind of stories she loves to read—gritty, suspenseful and featuring authentic, edgy and vulnerable characters, smack dab in the middle of action that explodes from page one.

Careers, past and present, include freelance writing, accounting, mother, problem solver, doer and head bottle washer.

Rebecca is a member of Three Rivers Romance Writers (TRRW), a PAN member of Romance Writers of America (RWA), and is proud to serve as a judge for several writing contests each year.

CONNECT WITH REBECCA
Website www.rebeccaneely.com
Blog https://rebeccaneelysite.wordpress.com/
Amazon https://www.amazon.com/Rebecca-E.-Neely/e/B00PIONVOA
Mailing List https://eepurl.com/bqiDi5
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/rebecca.mullnerneely
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Excerpt

Everything about being here with Jordan was diametrically opposed to what Curtis’ clan stood for. She repulsed him. Fascinated him. She was his enemy. Now, maybe his ally. Did she hold the key to saving his clan?

There was no way for him to explain or to prepare Jordan—or himself—for what he was about to do. Not only did he need the element of surprise, he didn’t want to give either of them a chance to talk themselves out of it.

“Well?” She planted one hand on her hip and waved the other impatiently. “What do you think about what I said?”

“Just . . . Ah, stand still.” What she’d told him, the way he saw it, gave him an opportunity to find a definitive answer. And that was his M.O., definitive answers. So, he’d do what he had to do to help his clan.

She was filthy dirty, and he wasn’t much better, since it’d been three days since he’d seen a shower. He figured they were evenly matched there. Writing off the thudding of his heart to nerves and lack of sleep, in one lightning quick move, he hauled her against him.

Understanding flashed in her eyes and her bottom lip curled in what most certainly was defiance. And maybe fear? Before he lost his nerve, he closed his mouth over hers.

Soft. That was the first sensation that leapt into his mind. For an instant, her lips remained motionless beneath his, then yielded, pliant, shocking him. Thrilling him.

Up to now, nothing about this woman had been pliant. Skinny as she was, the subtle curves of her breasts, the angles of her hips molded themselves to his body. His breath hitched, and his erection swelled in his jeans. Thoughts of stripping her bare, wrapping her legs around his waist and burying himself inside her where they stood possessed him.

Sweet gods.

A low moan stirred in her throat, further arousing him. His mouth a breath from hers, the taste of her lingering on his lips, she clutched his wrist. And, jerking away from him, she reared back and punched him in the stomach.

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