Psst! Yesterday’s winner is named at the end of this post!
By Kate Hill
Everywhere you turn, on movies and in magazines, the message always seems to be there’s something wrong with getting older. Whether it’s face cream, thigh cream or plastic surgery, we’re surrounded by products offering a magical solution to the aging problem. While it’s great to be well groomed and fit at any age, there’s nothing wrong with mature looks, either. Regardless of the outer package, everyone ages and there’s a unique beauty to people who age naturally.
Last night I saw a commercial for face cream that suggested anyone with lines can use their product. Personally, I like my lines. I’ve waited almost forty years for these crow’s feet and I have no desire to turn back the clock.
Even when I was younger, I preferred older partners. There’s nothing sexier than a man with lines around his eyes that show he’s lived. The rugged look most definitely does it for me.
If the media is any indication of the way most people feel about aging, then I’m probably in the minority, and I don’t mind at all. How do you feel about aging and “imperfections?”
What do trips around the world, endless nights of breathtaking sex, and a muscular, 6-foot 3-inch, brown-haired, blue-eyed significant other have to do with Kate Hill? Absolutely nothing, but she can dream, can’t she? In reality Kate is a vegetarian New Englander who loves writing romantic fantasies.
Currently, she might not be traveling around the world, but Kate has visited Europe and Africa and those beautiful places have been wonderful inspiration for her writing. While working at various times as a clerk, assistant karate instructor, house painter and banker, Kate dreamed of being an author. In 1996 her first short story was accepted for publication and since then she has sold over one hundred short stories, novellas and novels.
When she’s not working on her books, Kate enjoys reading, working out, and researching vampires and Viking history. Visit Kate online at http://www.kate-hill.com.
Mate Marks Cursed: Wild Woods by Kate Hill
Coming in March 2011 from Changeling Press
The pain will come later.
After a magical artist tattoos an intriguing demon on her skin, Madison meets a gorgeous stranger with an alarming reputation and a fiercely sexy winged creature with an attitude. She senses they are one and the same. Despite the danger surrounding them, she’s drawn to them by an inexplicable force.
Half-human and half-demon, Brody has spent his life fighting against his evil birthright. Despite the hatred of the townsfolk, he uses his supernatural powers to defend them from his foul bloodline.
Neither Madison nor Brody can fight their lust or deny their love, but hell is out to get him. When everyone close to him, especially his destined mate, is targeted by eight generations of Blazewood demons, the only way to fight evil is with evil.
“I can smell you. Delicious. I could eat you,” rasped that sinister voice.
“Eat this!” Madison leapt up and, wielding the branch like a golf club, slammed him in the gut.
He grunted and doubled over, but at the same time managed to rip the branch from her hand.
Madison took off running again, hoping she’d hurt him sufficiently to delay the chase long enough for her to find her way back to the path toward the town.
She headed in the direction from which she’d come–or so she thought. Nothing looked familiar. Her flashlight blinked on and off, then died completely.
“Damn it!” she said, on the verge of hysteria.
Powerful arms wrapped around her from behind and a big, hard body pushed her into the trunk of a nearby tree. She turned her head so that her cheek pressed against the bark.
“Get the fuck off me!”
“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to trespass?”
Her terrifying captor turned her to face him and Madison thought her heart might stop. Though he resembled Brody Blazewood, he clearly wasn’t human. The snakelike slits of his pupils rested in irises such pale blue they seemed to glow. His pointed ears pinned to his head, which was dusted with buzzed black hair. Finely-shaped lips parted, exposing the needle sharp points of his upper and lower canines.
It took a moment for her to realize he was staring at her curiously rather than viciously, despite his feral appearance. A strange feeling broke over her–almost a compulsion to move closer to him rather than away.
What was happening? She didn’t believe in monsters or magic.
Then why did you go to the tattoo artist who could supposedly guide you toward your destined mate?
And her tattoo had been of something. . .inhuman.
“This is impossible!” she said.
He tilted his head slightly to the side and narrowed his hypnotic eyes. His hands moved from her upper arms to ever-so lightly caress her face. Yet they weren’t human hands. His talon-like fingers tickled her cheeks, mostly due to the smoke-colored feathers covering his hands and forearms. Dark wings extended from his broad shoulders. Though he wore black trousers and boots, his sculpted torso was bare, every chiseled muscle exposed.
“Let me go!” She grunted and jabbed her knee toward his groin.
He shifted his stance to avoid the blow and she managed to pull away from him.
Madison bolted, scarcely able to see. She nearly ran into a tree, turned sharply and lost her footing.
Her hands groped as she slid down a steep incline and managed to grab hold of a root. Terrified, she tried to pull herself up, but her feet slipped and when she glanced down she saw a rocky stream about twenty feet below. If she fell she’d definitely be hurt. What if no one found her?
No, that creature would probably track her and–
She didn’t want to think about it.
Why hadn’t she taken the old lady’s advice and not gone hiking alone?
She pulled hard on the root and edged up the steep incline.
Then an arm wrapped around her and a hand grasped the root, just above her hand.
Madison had about all the surprises she could take. She screamed.
“Stop that!” said her captor. “You’re making my ears bleed.”
“Good!” Again she screamed but the sound was cut short when he covered her mouth in a kiss.
Madison’s heart pounded as much from fear as arousal. She expected him to cut her with those ferocious teeth. Though his kiss was firm and demanding, it wasn’t the least bit painful. In fact it was just the opposite.
The kiss softened, then broke.
“Hold onto my neck,” he said in a husky voice.
“It’s either me or the rocks below.”
Yesterday’s winner is…Jen B! Jen, congrats, and email me about your prize!