On August 21st, Lion in the Shadows releases! It’s a very erotic story—so consider yourself warned! 🙂

This opening scene I’m sharing today includes details of rescue procedures I gleaned from reading articles and speaking to a fireman in the Texas Hill County, who specialized in cave rescues. That was one fun conversation!

In Lion, things get hot…and weird…really quick. So, if you love a hot paranormal with hints of ghosts/demon possession/shapeshifting, Lion might be what you need.

For a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card, tell me whether you could see yourself crawling through caves for fun!

Lion in the Shadows

When a teen dies inside an unexplored cave, it’s Lani Kimmel’s job to bring him out. This is not a pleasant job, but one she’s handled many times as a member of the local fire department and an expert in cave rescues. The trek into the cave awakens a creature that will push this no-nonsense woman’s boundaries of belief and test her newly emerging love for one man.

Rafe Chavez, the new sheriff in this small Texas town, has already staked a claim on Lani. He’s a man with a goal in his sights, and he’s not letting anything get in his way—until he dreams about an Indian brave who died in that unexplored cave, savaged by a mountain lion. When his dreams cross into reality, Rafe realizes he may be possessed by the Indian’s spirit—but the spirit isn’t alone, and it wants Lani.

Just when Lani’s resistance to his erotic persuasion crumbles, Rafe must push her away to protect her from another creature that has also cast its gaze upon her…

Pre-order your copy now!

Excerpt

The earth shook, and the air stirred.

Sounds other than the usual chirping of cave crickets and the incessant drip of water intruded on the sleeper’s dreams, echoing down the cavern. Voices, laughter, feet scraping over stone.

The sleeper opened his eyes and found that, for once, the exercise wasn’t futile. A sliver of grayish light penetrated the gloom.

He stretched, willing blood to quicken through his body, to heat and ease muscles that had remained dormant too long.

Then a new scent—musky, warm-blooded, human—entered his tomb. He rolled to his feet.

Then gathering his strength he roared up the cave wall.

* * *

Lani Kimmel drove over the cattle guard onto the gravel road that marked the beginning of rancher McKelvey’s property. She followed the ridgeline of the steep, oak and cedar-covered hill, bouncing in her seat despite her truck’s heavy-duty shocks. The tires churned in caliche, the fine sandstone gravel pinging on the wheel wells.

She tried to keep her mind focused on the task of keeping her pickup on the rough road and away from the reason she climbed to the remote spot. But her stomach already burbled, her palms grew moist, and that little voice in the back of her mind—the one that sounded like her father’s—taunted her, What do you think you’re playin’ at, little girl? You aren’t strong enough.

As she rounded a curve, a long line of parked vehicles forced her to pull onto the shoulder to continue forward. Further along, she passed an EMS unit, two county squad cars, and the trucks and SUVs belonging to other members of the volunteer fire department. Parking in a narrow space between two vehicles, she had her door open before the engine finished chugging to a halt. Heat blasted her, and she grabbed her volunteer’s baseball cap to shield her eyes from the bright afternoon sun. Then she slid her duffel from behind her seat, kicked a booted heel against the door of her truck, and headed toward the mouth of the unnamed cave.

She nodded to the EMS team crouched beside two boys huddled beneath blankets, shivering despite the late afternoon heat. Compassion could have swamped her, but she quickly tamped down the emotion. If she thought too much about it, she wouldn’t be able to get through the next few hours. Their buddy likely lay on the bottom of the cave floor, and it was her job to bring him up.

Lani approached the group standing in front of a narrow black hole. Stones and gravel were already piled to the side as the men worked at widening the opening. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. “Anybody looked inside yet?”

Cale Witte, the captain of the volunteer fire department, turned and gave her a crooked smile that creased his suntanned face. “Glad you could make it, Lani. Did you bring your vertical pack?”

Lani lifted her duffel. “Got it here, boss. So, we have a drop-off? Anyone hear from the kid inside?”

He shook his head, his grave expression telling her he expected the worst. “Those skinny runts shimmied through that hole carrying ropes and Maglites,” he said, sounding disgusted. “Said they didn’t know there was another level until their friend dropped out of sight.”

Lani swore under her breath.

Cale spat a stream of chewing tobacco. “A couple of us crawled in. The entrance is blocked with loose-packed gravel and stone. It’s pretty unstable, but the cave opens wide once you’re through the mouth. About twenty feet inside, it bottoms out. We shined our lights around, but it was too deep to see much. We need to climb down.”

“Well, that’s what I’m here for, huh?” Lani said, willing confidence into her voice.

He nodded. “No one knows caves like you do—that’s a fact. You better have a look for yourself.”

Randy Brandt, another member of the department, leaned on his shovel. “Think we’ve got this hole wide enough for your butt now?” His grin stretched across his handsome face.

Not for the first time, Lani thought Randy’s lean, muscled frame, and sun-tinted brown hair belonged in a firemen’s calendar. “Better put your back into it.” Lani gave him a teasing glance. “Gotta make room for that big head of yours, too.”

The men chuckled.

Lani took no offense. She’d long ago figured out she was one of the team when the men included her in the insults they traded. Besides, the banter helped drown out the voice that ate at her composure. The sooner she was in the cave—her world—the sooner she’d be in control. Read the rest of this entry »

Thank you, Delilah, for having me.

Romantic Suspense and Women’s Fiction are usually the genres I write, but when an idea came to me about an online meeting between teens, I decided to explore the possibility of writing a Young Adult story. I am a parent and yet the questions I needed answered perplexed me. How do teens interact among their peers at school? How do they cope with cliques? Do most young people tend to stereotype when meeting new students from different ethnic backgrounds? Who are their role models?

This is what I felt I knew regarding the youth of today. Exposure to technology and social media has become an integral part of their lives. They have become experts at keeping occupied on phones, texting, sharing, trolling, scrolling, and chatting. They tend to concentrate on screens and miss out on what’s going on around them. In my opinion, viewing body language, facial expressions and vocal reactions probably has become invisible.

This quote by E.E. Cummings drove me to keep digging. “It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.”

After doing extensive online research, I headed to the homes of four, male teenagers I know very well, who are close to my heart. The book I wanted to write involved teens, and I needed ideas for the leading character, so with permission, I surveyed their living quarters. It wasn’t surprising for me to see empty snack bags, cans, wrappers and beds in disarray. After that, I did a bit of private shadowing, watching them with their peers. I pretended ignorance as I asked questions about recreational drugs. Undeniably, my previous fieldwork had come in handy, except for teen language. Taking notes on acronyms proved to be the most challenging part of the personal interviews I did with the boys. Finally, after a deep breath, I felt I had enough to begin writing my story. Thus, the YA mystery novella, #heartmatch, came to life.

As readers and/or writers, what do you see as benefits or challenges with social media and the exposure to technology, including computer games? Send me a note with your thoughts and I’ll randomly choose two people to win a #heartmatch free download from Amazon and one person to receive a print book.

#heartmatch

Nineteen-year old Jason Bryant, a lost soul, has forgotten how to care anymore. The dad he loves, the friends he has grown up with, and especially his mom have abandoned him. So, he vents while he plays blood and guts computer games every waking moment. He’s out for revenge until he meets Sam.

Samantha Brown calls being home schooled—home-prisoned. Because of a life threating health condition, she lives each day as it happens. Friends have deserted her. The parents she dearly loves are overly protective. Her sterile existence is lonely, so she searches online for a friend. She runs into Jason but refuses to fess up about her condition.

Although they are complete opposites, something clicks between them. Two deprived beings intertwine. Can they save each other?

Get your copy here!

An excerpt from #heartmatch…

“Let’s exchange numbers,” he typed.

One minute later, Samantha’s phone rang. She answered the Facetime call.

“Hey, nothing’s ugly so far,” Jason said.

She moved her phone around the room. “This is where I live.”

“In a bedroom?” he asked.

“A hospital room.”

His brows furrowed.

“What happened? You have an accident?”

“I’m dying, Jason.”

She moved the phone to her IV, the heart monitor machine, her face.

Her voice trembled with emotion. “If I want to live, someone dies.”

“I don’t get it.” His stare sharpened. His gray eyes darkened. “Sam, I mean ah—” he paused. “I’m not feeling too well. I gotta go.”

About the Author

C.K. Alber, author of The Promise Series and #heartmatch, was born in Indiana and raised and educated in both Indiana and Illinois. An extended move to Europe brought about the desire to write. She had gone from the maze of corn fields and town life to historical buildings, famous paintings, the city, and the seaside. As a “people watcher” her stories and characters began to develop, her imagination went wild regarding the settings and dialogues in her head, thus, Romantic Suspense became her preferred genre. The Young Adult story she has recently written came about because of four teens close to her heart.

Now she lives in Colorado with her beloved, thirteen-year-old, rescue dog Luna. She is a dedicated Pescatarian, loves traveling between Washington DC and Colorado to visit family but is still a worldwide traveler when the occasion arises.

Buy Links for #heartmatch ebook
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_2?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=C.K.+Alber
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/heartmatch-ck-alber/1127945898;jsessionid=E98DB56F586BFB197E16201C08488B22.prodny_store02-atgap04?ean=2940155045908
iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1347228511
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/heartmatch
Print on Demand: https://www.amazon.com/heartmatch-C-K-Alber/dp/1983200859/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1532540725&sr=8-1

Contact Information
www.ckalber.com
Twitter @CKAlber
https://www.facebook.com/C.K.Alber
https://www.facebook.com/C.K.Alber.Writer/
peace4all_2004@yahoo.com

Yesterday, August 1^st, was the Celtic harvest festival of Lughnassah. It was also called and celebrated as Lammas by the early Christian Saxons. If you missed it, you can certainly celebrate it today. Lughnassah is named after the Irish sun god, Lugh. In Wales, he’s called Lleu.

Sunshine helps nurture the grain until it ripens. Then it’s reaped, prepared, and baked as fresh bread. In the ancient Celtic belief system, Lugh transmitted his power of the sun into the grain, and with the harvesting of the grain, the god was sacrificed.

Nowadays, we get any food we want from the grocery store year-round, so it’s nice to use Lughnassah as an opportunity to connect for a moment to nature and its cycle of seasons. For example:

• If you like to cook—include fresh apples, pears, corn, or home-baked bread in one of your meals for the day.
• For nature lovers and those that like to get away—take a walk through the woods. In a big city, you can visit an arboretum or local nature center.
• Or if you’re an arts and crafts person—it’s a great time to make corn dollies.

And if you’re a reader, here’s an excerpt from my Celtic Romance/Historical Fantasy novel that will time-travel you back to a Lughnasah celebration in 1^stcentury Scotland.

The Warrior and the Druidess

Excerpt

Tanwen tossed a piece of bread into the central hearth. As it burned to a crisp, the smoke curled and rose to the gods. She let her sadness over leaving Sulwen and Rhys—and the death of her family—melt away. This was her new tribe and she loved them.

She led the chief’s household and her two guards in a circle around the central hearth as she chanted, “Earth gave us life. Death returns us to her womb. Unending, the circle runs forevermore. Sun, earth, and grain, all which falls, shall rise again.”

And that is why I’m here, Tanwen realized. She symbolized two great tribes destroyed by Rome. Yet, with Brude, she would make a stand to keep the brutal foreign force from Caledonia’s borders. She and Brude would see to it that no Pict tribe would be annihilated. Her descendants would teach the Celtic ways to those in the future, who, after accepting foreign beliefs, would come to forget their ancestors. In that, she was like the goddess. She carried the seed of rebirth, so that which had fallen would rise again.

Get your copy here!

*~*~*

If you like reading about other Celtic Festivals, each story in my Druidry and the Beast series is set during a Celtic Festival in the iron age, such as:

The Wolf and the Druidess—Samhain

The Dragon and the Druidess—Beltane

The Bear and the Druidess—The Winter Solstice

 I hope you had a Happy Lughnassah.

Cornelia

It’s launch day for Zoraida Grey and the Voodoo Queen—Book 2 in my Gothic/Fantasy trilogy about how a small town fortuneteller wreaks havoc in a haunted Scottish castle—and beyond. Voodoo Queen takes Zoraida into the Yucatan jungle in search of a long-lost relative who is supposed to be the only person the witches of Castle Logan fear.

Since Zoraida is a fortuneteller, she consults her tarot cards from time to time and knows quite a bit about astrology—among many other things. To celebrate the launch of Zoraida Grey and the Voodoo Queen, I’m pulling cards and talking about characters in the series.

Justice

The Justice Card shows a stern individual holding a two-edged sword and a set of scales. The card is associated with the Zodiac sign of Libra. In Zoraida Grey and the Family Stones, the first book in the series, we meet Granny and come to know her as a crazy herbalist—some say witch—who lives in the wilds of Arkansas and dispenses herbal remedies among other things. She’s raised Zoraida since Zoraida’s parents died in a tragic boating accident when Zoraida was three years old. While we know Granny has some ulterior motive for sending Zoraida to Scotland, it isn’t until Zoraida Grey and the Voodoo Queen that we get a glimpse of her real intention: To get revenge—or in Granny’s opinion, Justice—from the Logan witches for an ancient curse. She’s been working on her plan for a long, long time.

It just so happens that I’m a Libra, so I know that we Librans are a mellow bunch. We do, however, have a few ne’er-do-wells in our midst—Ma Barker, Lee Harvey Oswald (maybe just a patsy, which would be a very dark area of the sign), Bonnie Parker, Heinrich Himmler, Vladimir Putin, and Andrei Chikatilo, a prolific Russian serial killer who confessed to 56 murders. We also count Bruce Springsteen, John Lennon, Michael Douglas, Julie Andrews, Carrie Fisher, Sigourney Weaver, Mahatma Ghandi, Jimmy Carter, Dwight D. Eisenhower, Oscar Wilde, Tom Petty, and Daniel Boone among our merry band. We seek balance and may do anything it takes to get it—up to and including rubbing out the individual causing the problem.

Birthstones for those born Libra can be peridot, lapis lazuli, opal, or agate. To celebrate the launch of Zoraida Grey and the Voodoo Queen, I’m giving away a hand-crafted birthstone pendant.

Drop by my Witchmageddon Page to enter the giveaway and to find more Pre-, During, and Post- Book Launch Festivities—Including a 99¢ SALE on Zoraida Grey and the Family Stones Book 1 in the series.

Zoraida Grey and the Voodoo Queen

Magic may save Zoraida’s skin, but what about her heart?

Zoraida Grey needs help. With the witchy Logan clan holding her best friend hostage in a haunted Scottish castle, she can’t trust anyone—certainly not beguiling but dangerous Shea Logan. And Al, her overprotective boyfriend, doesn’t believe in magic.

Only one creature strikes fear in the blackened hearts of the Logan witches. Trouble is Jock disappeared five centuries ago leaving a trail of destruction across the Gulf of Mexico. Now he’s stepped into a steaming pile of Voodoo.

Can Zoraida drag wayward Jock back to Scotland? And what’s she supposed to do with two men who promise completely different futures?

A Scottish wizard, stripped naked and painted blue—a Voodoo priestess bent on immortality—a yacht-load of Caribbean pirates. What can possibly go wrong?

Excerpt

“Tell them the story of our escape, Vera. They need to know what happened before they can decide what to do next. Even I don’t know the entire tale.”

“I’ve been wondering about that,” says Shea. “Very lucky the curse didn’t affect Zoraida.”

“Yes, it is.” Magic snaps and crackles in Granny’s eyes. She focuses on Shea, a satisfied little smile on her wrinkled lips. “The night I hid the Stone of Adamantine, Ursula and that boy of hers was looking for me high and low. They thought I meant to take over the clan—and I could have, too. But I was weary of the castle and the endless feuding. It never entered their heads I didn’t want nothing to do with that thing. They biled up a spell and sent it after me. I heered ’em.”

Granny shudders despite the bright Arkansas sun beaming through the window. “Exiled from Castle Logan for eternity on pain of death. Death to all my kin. They meant to make me watch all my children die, knowing none would live to get revenge. Then the curse would have meant a slow end for me. We managed to turn it just enough—my sister and me.”

Buy Links
https://books2read.com/ZoraidaGrey2

About Sorchia DuBois

I always intended to be a writer but life, family, and bills got in the way—oh, I took some bad advice, too. I taught English for many years but in 2014, I returned to my original plan and published Just Like Gravity, my first full-length novel. Since then, I’ve been working on a Gothic trilogy which will be finished and published in 2018. Now, I live in deepest, darkest Missouri where I plan to write until they haul me away. I like a wee nip of Scotch and will drop everything to attend any Scottish festival I can get to.

Social Media Links
Website:  www.SorchiaDubois.com
Blog: https://www.sorchiadubois.com/sorchias-universe-the-bloga/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/SorchiaDubois
Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/SorchiaDubois/
Facebook:  www.facebook.com/SorchiaD
Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/SorchiaDuBois/e/B00B60NOUQ/
Goodreads  author page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6879978.Sorchia_DuBois
Google +: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+SorchiaDuBois
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/sorchia-dubois
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sorchiad/

UPDATE: The winner is…Tracy Howard!
*~*~*

Hello, all! Thank you first of all to Delilah for being such a gracious hostess. Visiting here with you all is always a lot of fun.

So…birthday gifts. My birthday is this weekend. I joke about not counting the numbers anymore, but still wanting the cake and presents, but really, I do still count the numbers, even if they’re daunting. This birthday will be the first without my dad, which is not so much fun. But I have a birthday dinner date with my husband this weekend, so that will help, and my boys will come bearing gifts, but I’ll have to get my own cake, I think. Something decadent and pretty, maybe.

But I’ve been thinking about birthday gifts lately, not just because my birthday is so close, but birthday gifts in general, and from previous birthdays. To be honest, I don’t always keep track of whether a gift was for a birthday, or an anniversary, or a holiday. I only know if it’s something extra-special to me. Sitting here at my desk, I can see several gifts from previous occasions, and I know a few were birthday gifts–a little stuffed dog covered in pink hearts, a small orange traffic cone that says “Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy” (my husband has a sense of humor about my writing and my love of western movies), and a candle that makes my office smell like pineapples when I light it. None of these are big gifts, but because of the thought behind them and the gift givers, they are special to me and make me smile when I look at them.

As a kid, my favorite gifts were books, no matter what the occasion. Yes, I loved if I got a new doll or something pretty, but the books were the best for me. They’re still one of my favorite things in the world.

My birthday gift to myself this weekend (besides a cake), will be a visit to the eye doctor, which is several years overdue, and an hour on the massage table. And probably some reading time, which is an all-year-round gift to myself, if I’m being honest.

In a manuscript I’m working on, the heroine has never really had anyone make a big deal over her birthday, but the hero’s family always celebrated birthdays in a huge way, so when he surprises her with a party on her birthday, she doesn’t quite know what to make of it, but it does make her see him in a very different light. How can she not fall a little more in love with him after that, even if he is totally unsuitable?

I’d love to know about some of your favorite birthday gifts from birthdays past (or present). Something you always wanted? An unexpected party? Just some alone time, maybe? I have a signed trade paperback copy of Hunting Medusa to give away–everyone who comments with their favorite birthday gift by midnight on Saturday, July 28 will be entered into a drawing for the book.

And if you’re celebrating a birthday soon, or just celebrated recently, happy birthday to you, too!

About the Author

Elizabeth Andrews has been a book lover since she was old enough to read. She read her copies of Little Women and the Little House series so many times, the books fell apart. As an adult, her book habit continues. She has a room overflowing with her literary collection right now, and still more spreading into other rooms. Almost as long as she’s been reading great stories, she’s been attempting to write her own. Thanks to a fifth grade teacher who started the class on creative writing, Elizabeth went from writing creative sentences to short stories and eventually full-length novels. Her father saved her poor, callused fingers from permanent damage when he brought home a used typewriter for her.
Elizabeth found her mother’s stash of romance novels as a teenager, and-though she loves horror- romance became her very favorite genre, making writing romances a natural progression. There are more than just a few manuscripts, however, tucked away in a filing cabinet that will never see the light of day.

Along with her enormous book collection, Elizabeth lives with her husband of more than twenty years, though no one else in the family reads nearly as much as she does. When she’s not at work or buried in books or writing, there is a garden outside full of herbs, flowers and vegetables that requires occasional attention.

Hunting Medusa
The Medusa Trilogy, Book 1

Ever since the original Medusa ticked off Athena, her cursed daughters have been paying for that mistake. To this day, successive Medusas play cat and mouse with the Harvesters.

When Kallan Tassos tracks down the current Medusa, he expects to find a monster. Instead he finds a wary, beautiful woman, shielded by a complicated web of spells that foils his plans for a quick kill and retrieval of her protective amulet.

Andrea Rosakis expects the handsome Harvester to go for the kill. Instead, his attempt to take the amulet imprinted on her skin without harming her takes her completely by surprise. And ends with the two of them in a magical bind—together.

Though there attraction is combustible, her impending PMS (Pre Magical-Curse Syndrome) puts a real damper on any chance of a relationship. But Kallan isn’t the only Harvester tracking Andi, and they must cooperate to stay one step ahead of a ruthless killer before they can have any future, together or apart.

Hello Delilah and friends, and thanks for letting me take over your blog.

Sometimes, when I try to explain to friends and co-workers (or my boss!) where my ideas come from, I get anything from a raised eyebrow to a polite “that’s interesting” or “I never would have thought of that.” Whether that’s a good or bad thing is unclear. Many of my original ideas come from the murky depths of my sleeping mind.

My latest Soul Mate release, Shifting Auras, started life in 2011 that way—as a half-remembered snippet of a dream. I wrote down what I could remember, and the germ of an idea started there. I wrote out some ideas and put the story aside. When I went back to it, a new idea started coming to me. Perhaps it was all the Marvel movies out there but I began thinking of a group of powered humans, ala the X-Men, and the government agencies they might be working through. The idea of having supernormal powers has always fascinated me. What would it mean to be telekinetic or psychic? Would it be good or bad? What would it mean for us and the world? I didn’t want to go down the road of “mutants are evil” as some current shows and movies have done, so I centered it around a shadow government agency. It’s been so much fun to write the series, and there are more books to come. Part of the challenge is finding powers for my characters. Outside of the popular ones, there are many others to play with, and I’m trying them all out.

I grew up reading anything that my parents had in the house. As it happened, much of what they had was science fiction and fantasy, so I skewed toward that from an early age. When I was younger it wasn’t an accepted thing to do, but I found my tribe, and we wrought havoc together. I could identify with Maya Wingfield, the heroine in Shifting Auras, who always felt like a bit of an outcast. I think that’s what makes these sorts of stories interesting. It’s the idea of not quite fitting in, of not belonging, whether you are a newcomer to school, entering an unfamiliar work place for the first time, or visiting a city where you are unsure of your welcome…or you have the ability to know what a person is thinking. I see it as a burden as much as it is a boon. The need to belong, to find people who accept you, is such a part of the human condition that it cuts across all social strata, whoever you are.

I will pick two people who answer this question to get a free ARC of Shifting Auras. If you could have a superpower, what would it be and why? Post your answer at https://www.facebook.com/ClaireDavonindieauthor/

Again, thank you to Delilah for the opportunity to interact with all you fine folks. If you’re curious about me, I can be reached at the following places in addition to my Facebook page noted above.

Website: www.clairedavon.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/ClaireDavon
Newsletter/mailing list: https://clairedavon.com/mailing-list/

Here is a snippet of Shifting Auras, available exclusively on Amazon…

Maya backed away from him and toward the door, her hands going up in front of her body. Could she get out if she needed to and start screaming for help? Or could he use his power, whether telekinesis or something else, before she got a word out?

“Relax,” Ian said, his voice rising in jagged syllables. “Crikey, your emotions are written all over your face. The sensitive in Hammersmith can probably hear you. Take it down a level.”

He filled the room. She had no doubt he was faster than her and could get to her before she could yank open the door. He probably didn’t even need to move to shut it.

“I’m not here to hurt you, Maya. Bollocks, can’t you feel that? Reach in and find out if I’m telling the truth. I’ll let you.”

Bobbie made a noise and began to retch on the comforter. The air conditioner filtered the sour smell into the room.

“I . . .” she said and stopped. Touching his mind, she felt his shield again, a malleable surface she wanted—needed—to see beyond. A beat of anger at her friend pulsed under the shield before he lowered it just a little. He burned with determination and a sense of mission, but there was also sensual awareness pulsing under the skin. It was something she’d never touched before in a man. It glowed hot with primal need, searing through her and manifesting as red in his aura.

Maya concentrated on her breathing until she was lightheaded from hyperventilating. Putting a hand on her wrist Maya was relieved to feel her heartbeat slowing. Ian’s hands were overlapping on his belt buckle, a posture of waiting but not of ease. She noted with little surprise that his palms had a faint red glow in the center. Telekinetic, then. No surprise. He could, in fact, shut the door even if she got it open. She was trapped inside with someone of unknown motives, who may not have her best interests in mind. Universe rarely did, from what her parents had said.

“Um,” she said and stopped. After several moments of silence Maya relaxed and inclined her head. “You’re a big man and the whole thing is a bit sketchy, don’t you think?”

“It’s dodgy, luv, I get that. Do you think I’m dangerous?”

Maya swallowed, wishing she had a glass of water. Silence filled the room, punctuated only by Bobbie’s piteous noises. She noticed that he hadn’t made any move to go from the room. His aura was barely visible in the dim light. Pink and blue banded together, not mixing but staying distinct. Compassion, then, and dedication. No darker emotions, although something lay deep inside, but it was in a place she couldn’t get to.

“Not dangerous per se,” she said. “Not safe either. Thank you for helping Bobbie.”

Ian made an impatient gesture with his hands, waving them first toward Bobbie and then Maya.

“There is a lot we need to discuss.”

“Please,” she said, putting a hand to her head, feeling an incipient headache begin. “Just go.”

He opened his mouth but then shut it. Still he waited, his heavy scrutiny pleading with her to change her mind. She pointed to the door, aware she was being rude, but in that moment not caring. Too much had happened, and she needed him gone.

He retrieved a business card from his wallet and handed it to her. Their hands clasped momentarily, and electricity danced down her forearm. Without looking, Maya curled her fingers around it, but still gestured toward the door. Finally, Ian nodded.

“Call if you need me. We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t,” she replied. “Thank you but I have no interest in any of your groups.”

“You will.” With that, he made a short bow, spun on his heel, and left.

Maya leaned against the door after he had gone. He felt so familiar, but he was Universe. Never trust the government, that’s what her parents had said. Even if she felt like she should.

Hi Delilah Fans! I’ve got an exciting new read for you, Her Pirate Adventure. Based on a story I wrote for Pirates, Delilah’s last edition of the Boys Behaving Badly collections, I’ve created a novella full of sexy fun perfect for your vacation reading.

Right now, this can be yours for only 99¢ or FREE if you’re on Kindle Unlimited. What I’m hoping is that you’ll like it sooo much that you’ll nab it and write a review! Have I ever asked for much?

Her Pirate Adventure

Thoroughly disappointed with her expensive cruise ship vacation, Burgess Carter has one night left to find the adventure she craves. She looks up from her dinner at a seaside restaurant to see someone who might make her dreams come true. A man stands at the prow of his sailing sloop as it glides up to a nearby pier. A man like she’s never seen before, tall, dark, gorgeous and maybe a pirate. A man she absolutely has to meet.

Morgan Rand has a lot on his mind. Tomorrow will be the last day of a massive project that he and his crew have been working on for months. With any luck, he’s about to become incredibly rich. He’s nervous, exhilarated and exhausted, but not too far gone to catch the stare of an enchanting female watching him from the deck railing of his favorite restaurant. Good thing he plans to eat there. He’ll make his move on this intriguing lady and discover if she’s up for his dare.

What happens when Burgess decides to stow away and see if this pirate is real? When he decides to blow up her entire concept of adventure?

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Excerpt:

With every sense piqued to the limit, Burgess tried to make a reasoned decision. She had never wanted a man like this, had never even met someone this amazing. She’d also never brazened such an outrageous maneuver. Yes, he’d been friendly. But this was his personal space. Would he be upset?

Tall, tanned, and scandalously good looking, he had actually come up to her, recognized her, talked to her. Invited her to his table, for God’s sake. Was it like she was really intruding here when a person took all that into consideration?

Anyway, even if he was upset, what would he do? It’s not like he’d beat on her or throw her overboard. At the worst, he might say she had to leave. She lifted her chin. This was her chance and she wasn’t going to chicken out now.

The boat rocked gently as she slipped further into the shadowy room. After a moment’s hesitation, she stripped off her clothes, tossed them to the floor, and climbed into the bed. Snuggling deep into the covers, she punched the pillow and propped her head so she’d see anyone entering the room.

“Umm.” Burgess was having the most incredible dream. Big rough hands caressed her breasts. A warm mouth suckled the tight nipples and kissed the hollow of her throat. “Oh,” she moaned.

If only dreams could be real. This one felt perfect. Heat radiated from his skin. He smelled of bay rum and salty air.

“Are you awake?”

A generous deep voice rumbled in her ear, so incredibly masculine. She arched toward him, urging the dream to continue. His hand slid down her belly, brushed over her damp center, then traced a light circle around her stiff clitoris sending gooseflesh down her legs.

“Oh, please,” she moaned.

The sound of his chuckle startled her awake. Light from the galley met her barely opened eyes. A dark room. A man…

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About the Author

Lizzie Ashworth lives in the wilds of the Ozark Mountains with three cats, two hound dogs, and too many deer in her yard. She’s been writing her entire life and wants her readers to know how much she enjoys sharing her naughty stories.

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