The winner of the signed copy of TO SERVE AND PROTECT will be announced at the bottom of this posting!

Quick NaNoWriMo update: I hit 21692 words yesterday! Okay, not terrific, but progress!! AND I finished edits on chapter one of the new free book I’m writing that you guys helped me plan, BAD MOON RISING.

Well, Knight of My Dreams is finally here. I hope you enjoy it! The story doesn’t always make you comfortable it’s that intense. My editor told me the writing is almost lyrical, and there is a satisfying end for the couple in jeapordy throughout the book. So hang tight.

And did I mention the sex is off the charts? 😆

For love, a man will do anything, even betray his beloved to save her…

Vampire Quentin Albermarle’s wife Darcy lies in a coma after being savaged by a werewolf. Fearing she might never awaken, or worse, that she will return a maddened beast, Quentin returns to the Cayman Islands seeking help from the one woman who might be able to save her.

A century and a half ago, this powerful vampire and witch seduced Quentin with magic and turned him into a vampire to provide herself a mate, but he freed himself from her spell and fled her influence, knowing he’d left behind a powerful enemy. Returning now, seeking Kamaria’s help, he must resist her attempts to enslave him again. However, the price she demands may cause him to lose the woman he loves.

Reader Advisory: The battle to save a loved one is sometimes sexual. It can be hard, uncompromising and not for the faint of heart.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A sick and twisted passage here, but you know my MIKs always have a heavy dose of humor, action and a happy ever after…

Quentin slammed his forehead against the cool black-and-white tiles, hoping the pain and the scalding-hot water sliding over his skin would relax the hard-on the bitch had left him with. His balls felt impossibly full, his cock rigid to the point of agony.

Nothing seemed to dampen the painful arousal that had made the short walk from his bed to the shower stall seem unendurable.

Kamaria’s revenge was as devious and deviant as any he’d anticipated.

Already aroused, already fighting his damnable attraction, he’d held himself still as stone after he’d pulled his fist from Kamaria’s dripping cunt and she flounced off the bed in a rage.

Her fury at how he’d tricked her, arresting her screaming orgasm in mid-release, had him holding his breath while she spat and cursed, her body trembling as she paced the floor.

When at last she’d halted, dragging in deep ragged breaths, she was faced away. Her slender but strong shoulders squared, her long fingers clenched then rolled open. When she turned slowly toward him, her cat’s eyes gleamed with malice. “Nicely done, husss-band,” she said, a small tight smile lifting the corners of her lips.

“Thank you,” he replied calmly, not bothering to tell her not to call him that again. Fighting to keep his features schooled in a bland mask, he waited, knowing there would be harsh consequences for his rebellion.

Her gaze flickered down his naked body, resting on his cock for a long moment. “You’d best shower if you want to see your woman without my stink on your skin.”

Then he’d noted the shimmer of tears in her eyes. “Kamaria…”

Her lips twisted into a snarl. “You won…this round, at least. We’ll see how you fare in the coming battle.” Then her head fell back, her eyelids fluttered closed, her hands rose, turning in the air, her fingers dancing.

Quentin’s jaws tightened. “Kamaria…” This time his tone warned.

Too late. The bunched sheets beneath his knees began to move, sliding softly, slowly, like gentle lapping waves on a lake. Lapping around him.

The folds in the sheets lifted, filling around cylindrical shapes that lengthened then began to writhe. Hissing sounds erupted around him, and suddenly the bed was covered with snakes.

Quentin held his breath, unafraid of a dozen goddamn snakes. If that was the best she could do…

But it was only the beginning.

The snakes glided from under the sheets, their sleek, black, unnaturally warm bodies winding under and over his bent calves and feet, encircling his thighs and skimming higher.

When the first asp’s head reached his balls, he clamped his jaws tight, damned if he’d tell her to stop. He had to remind himself she couldn’t really hurt him like this, not permanently, anyway.

But with the blunt nose of an asp that close to his testicles, he couldn’t quite relax. His jaws clenched, his fists curled at his sides, and his chest rippled as every muscle in his body strained instinctively against his mind’s command not to move, not to breathe.

A soft stretched hiss had his gaze dropping to his groin. One snake slithered from between his sac and his thigh, nudging upward along his cock. Silently, he begged his cock not to react, but he couldn’t stop it. It twitched.

The snake’s head reared back, its jaws opened to reveal two long, needlelike fangs. As a curse burst from Quentin’s mouth, the fangs sank into the soft head of his cock.

Quentin winced. The pain wasn’t so bad. However, the sound of her soft laughter made him mad enough to spit. When his gaze came back up to Kamaria’s, he nearly lunged from the bed.

A broad, amused smile stretched her lips. “Now we see how you like being cheated of your pleasure.” She left him, striding naked and triumphant from the bedroom.

After slinging the snakes, one at a time, from the window, Quentin sat heavily on the side of the bed, his head swimming. The poison working through his system was strong. His body quivered as though palsied, goose bumps lifted on his skin. Every part of him grew chilled—except the flesh between his legs.

His cock and balls held their erection, unflagged by the damage from the bite. Quentin soon suspected the snakes hadn’t been natural asps at all when the chills bled into rolling waves of heat that washed his body from head to toe, each wave increasing the sensual tension threatening his sanity.

He stretched on his back on the cool white sheets and spread his legs wide to ease the ache. Cool air from the oscillating fan above him didn’t help. He wrapped his fingers around his shaft, hoping to relieve the painful ache, but the first firm stroke nearly had him passing out.

Too sensitive to touch, too aroused to think of anything but the relentless, throbbing need between his legs, he’d crawled to the shower, turned the taps to the hottest setting and stood shivering under the faucet, damning the witch to hell.

All he’d wanted was to save Darcy. Now trapped in this sorceress’s lair, beholden to Kamaria’s whims and desires, he feared he was farther from his goal than ever. Darcy was somewhere inside this house, lying defenseless and alone while another forced him to give her vindictive satisfaction.

He couldn’t function this way, couldn’t help or protect Darcy if Kamaria kept him in this state. How long he stood there, his legs braced apart, his body reddening beneath the scalding spray, he didn’t know.

When finally he admitted defeat, he whispered, “Kamaria, I submit.”

The winner of the signed copy of TO SERVE AND PROTECT is…Sonya M!