Posts Tagged ‘Purple Sword Publications’
I’m so excited! Today is a release day for me. The third book in the Draven’s Crossing series is out. *Grins* I hope you like it. I have another book or two planned for this series.
Excerpt: Meeting With Draven
Out Now at Purple Sword Publications
Draven’s Crossing: Hidden Diversions
With so many distractions, can they catch a killer before someone else dies?
Their passion may be the death of them…
Werewolf Chief of Police, Torger, is running into walls while tracking the Draven’s Crossing serial killer. No matter what he tries to do, he can’t find the clues needed to stop the terror that stalks the streets of his city. Things aren’t helped by his attraction to dragon shifter, Draven City News Reporter, Isadora Jones. With political pressure and bodies mounting, can he get through all these distractions to the truth before it’s too late?
Reporter, Isadora Jones wants to help with the investigation into the serial killer but Torger refuses to let her. She decides to do it on her own, but her world goes upside down when the killer sets his sights on her. Under Torger’s protection, they start to put the pieces together but will it be too late for them?
Things go from bad to worse when another killer appears. Draven’s Crossing just got a whole lot more dangerous.
Purple Sword Publications:
Torger tossed and turned in his bed. He could smell her on his covers. Her scent drifted around the room like an enticing trail he wanted to follow. His skin burned as his muscles contracted. Blood flowed straight to his cock, thickening the shaft. His balls hardened and throbbed with the need for release. With a groan, he rolled onto his stomach. His mind was split into two parts: one half didn’t think it was right to want sex much less have it with so many bodies piling up, and the other didn’t give a shit and needed to feel something good in a world full of crap. He didn’t want to think about anything. He had the All Packs meeting that was coming up after the full moon. His mind was abuzz with thoughts and lists. There were things he had to do and things he had to discuss. Torger hadn’t met with his Beta yet, nor had he met the new leader of the Branson pack after the old one had been ousted. Then he had to make sure that Draven would get the old ones to meet with him about the killer. There was Evanson to deal with, and he didn’t want to think about the shit storm that could come out of accusing him of anything, especially not with the man’s wife dead. Whether he had anything to do with it or not, the public wouldn’t be happy. Muffy Evanson was a beloved figure in the community. If the Representative had anything to do with her death, there would be chaos. He needed to be sure, to dig deeper. Torger knew he’d have to ask Isy to dive into the archives and see what she came up with.
The sweetest perfume drifted under his door. He snorted and sat up. She was near. His eyes had already adjusted to the darkness. He saw a shadow move in front of his door but it didn’t go to the guest room across the hall. He waited; the seconds ticked by. Each moment like a drip of water on his face, it seemed to last forever and there was no end in sight. He swallowed. His lips became dry as his heartbeat sped up. The jangle of a hand on the door handle rang in his ears. The delicate shells prickled at the musical sound. He waited. His heart stuttered and then crashed against his ribcage in a heavy drum beat. His body heat spiked as his wolf waited. Need coiled in the pit of his stomach. He licked his lips again, hoping, praying for what, he didn’t know. All he saw was that if she didn’t do something soon, he would. And then there would be no turning back. Everything would change for them, and he wasn’t sure how everyone would react or how everything would land.
As the seconds ticked by, her shadow remained at the door. The hand had stopped jiggling. Opening up his senses, he allowed her emotions to wash over him. He tasted the tang of hesitation with the sweetness of eagerness. All of it was tinged with the bright spice of lust. Underneath it all, there was Isy’s own unique natural scent. Not wanting to let the torture for both of them continue, he called out, “Isy, you can come in.”
There was a moment and then the door knob turned. Her perfume and emotions rushed into the room, driving away the stale trail she’d made before. It was as if someone had turned on the sun in his room. Heat poured over him in waves as she advanced into the space and shut the door behind her. Both of them were covered in darkness and yet he knew she stood between the door and his bed. So close and yet so far away as the cliché went. His fingers ached to hold her, to feel the silken warmth of her skin and bury his face in her neck and inhale deeply. Torger’s lips tingled with the need to kiss her, to feel her lips against his and slide his tongue into her mouth and taste her. He wondered what he’d find there. He didn’t want to think about it anymore.
“Isy? What’s wrong?” Torger knew what was wrong but didn’t want to come out and say it. His wolf on the other hand wanted him to get up off the bed, strip off her clothes, bury his face between her thighs and eat her out until she came. His cock jerked at that urge. Heat flared along his skin, flushing through is cheeks, down his throat, and crashing into his chest. Prickles danced along his flesh as his nerve endings came alive. His sense sharpened as his wolf came into play, pushing at its restraints, demanding that they finally get what they’d longed for after so much denial. And he couldn’t move. Frozen by his guilt as his responsibility pushed forward to the forefront of his mind. Pack. Duty. Draven’s Crossing. Those words screamed in his head, and he felt a tinge of shame.
No shame! His wolf cried out and growled at its master’s retreating libido. His skin cooled as his heart went back to its normal rhythm.
“Torger. Shut up. Stop thinking.” Isy’s voice came out as a low, husky command. Just like that, the fire inside burst to life. It went from simmer to all out firestorm as Isy advanced toward his bed. How she knew about the war going on in his head he didn’t know. Do dragons smell things the way other shifters do? The question pushed back some of his doubts.
The bed dipped under her weight, which served to shove back more of the pressure on his mind.
“Can you…” The question caught around a lump in his throat. It had formed when he wasn’t looking. A nervous sweat began on his forehead. He felt large and unsure of himself, like a teenager during his first experience. “Your stress and frustration reeks. It’s time to put an end to that. Your doubts and concerns won’t save the people of Draven’s Crossing and it sure as hell won’t help you catch the killer. Now didn’t I tell you to shut up?” Her hands closed around his ankles. He felt them slide up his legs. The cloth abraded his skin. Even though it was smooth cotton, it felt a thousand times rougher than before. He swallowed again, not used to this side of Isy. Rather than ask, he did as she said and stayed quiet. He didn’t move or even dare to breathe without her say so. His thoughts drifted away with her touch. She ran her hands over his thighs. The scrape of her nails over the cotton intensified his sense of touch. The blunted pain only enhanced his need. Desire crawled through his body as blood thickened in his veins. Her unique aroma became his air. Each gulp sent his head spinning and his mind drifting. He was lightheaded with her nearness.
“You’re going to let me take care of you. I’ll be handling your pleasure tonight. You do what I say and want without a single word, understand?” She placed a butterfly kiss on his stomach, so light it could have been the brush of the wind for all he knew. Her humid breath told him otherwise.
Torger nodded his acquiescence. He let out a yelp when he felt her teeth sink into one ridge of his abdominals. “No. Let me hear you say it. Tell me, yes, Isy, I understand.” She lapped at the pained flesh with quick licks of her tongue. Each lap pulled a soft groan from his throat as the pain turned to pleasure.
“Yes, Isy, I understand. Please.” He reached for her, wanting to bury his hands in her hair and pull her close but did nothing until told to. His alpha male self went to war over giving power to Isy. It had nothing to do with her being a woman or even a dragon. Everything in him was designed to take care of people, solve problems, and yet he was rescinding control to her. He was allowing her to take care of his problem, solve it for him and take care of him. He wasn’t sure how to respond so he did nothing. Curiosity peeked out from the wolf. It wondered how this would go, not in the least bothered by the shift in power.
Wanted to let you know that I signed a contract for the third Draven’s Crossing story, Hidden Diversions and I’ve just turned in my edits. I’m hoping to have two book covers to show you guys before the week is out.
What makes a hero tick?
Well, that’s a bit of a loaded question. Because for as many types of men (and women) out there, there are just as many heroes. The silent, do-it-all-or-die type. The in-your-face type. Even the ones who are nothing but heart.
My heroes tend to be a mixing bag of all of those traits and whatever else happens to work for that story and for them. Each character is unique unto themselves and I love that about them. Even when they add to my gray hair.
Examination room one: Xavier’s Way
Our hero: Xavier De Los Santos
A hard working, self-motivated type of man, from a family of strong men (all brothers. You kinda feel sorry for their mother, I know I do!). What happens though when life throws him a slow and sexy curve ball in the form of one Jordan Belton? He shakes in his work boots is what happens! And the incredible thing about how he handles that curve ball is by admitting he’s scared. Admitting he may be wrong. No matter what direction he tries to take, but takes it anyway.
So he’s one type. Flexible. Accepting, able to stand up to a challenge. But sensitive to the fact that once the cat is out of the bag-Jordan’s personal attraction-he doesn’t give fate the finger. He stands up to it and challenges himself to embrace it.
Terrifying, isn’t it? You’ll have to read his story to see just how he handles it.
Xavier’s Way Book Info:
This woman has had life kick her while she’s down and even when life doesn’t let her catch her breath, she..doesn’t..stop…living. I will have to admit, this chick was hard to write. Stubbornest damn ass of a person…but that’s a side rant. In truth, just staying alive and on her own two feet is her biggest challenge because she’s dying. She knows it. She’s accepted it, now if the rest of the damn world would just let her be until she can’t fight back any longer, she’d be content. Yeah, life doesn’t happen that way.
She’s the type of woman that personifies inner strength, because even when life is kicking her ass, she kicks back. Hard. She doesn’t stop when her mind and heart are set on something. She will fight tooth and nail for what she believes in. The lioness. A fighter.
Her type is very in your face with her strength, but feminine. A spine of steel with a conscientious heart.
Wolf Brother’s Legacy: Resurrection Book Info:
Publisher Link: http://purplesword.com/zencart/
(Releasing this summer)
Examination room three: Beneath the Shield
Our hero: Jack Torres
Now here is a yummy example of alpha male that has been wounded so badly, he’s drifting, mostly hiding, living, but on the very edges. He’s the type to let you run into his fist, not hit you. His heart is in desperate need of CPR, and a certain doctor has just what he needs.
Jack learns to let go, that living is now. He is a deep strength, because only that in human nature allows us to forgive ourselves. Being a police officer shows he’s not immune to the world around him, and he shows that, but woe be to the one who dares to reach him.
So that’s three strong, very similar characters, but in each story they are as individual and unique as the world between page one and ‘The End’.
How do I see heroes? I see them in all shapes and sizes, everywhere, from the young man who helped me one afternoon to aid the driver of a car that had flipped–yes, flipped–barely thirty feet in front of me on a busy highway, to the kindness of making someone’s day by taking donuts to work–when you don’t work there. They are all around us, in the small and big things they do. There is no age limitations, no city-to-cowboy delineation, not even male versus female. We all are heroes, and I want my readers to recognize that facet of themselves in the characters I write.
Beneath the Shield Book Info:
Publisher Link: http://www.mlrbooks.com/books.php
Diana Castilleja/Diana DeRicci Bio:
With more than half a dozen ebooks currently to her credit and her first print book released in 2008, Diana Castilleja has kept busy since she started writing professionally in late 2004. Diana currently resides in central Texas with her husband and son. When not focusing her energy on her family and her writing, she loves to travel and haunt bookstores. She’s lived in several states across the south and midwest, as well as traveling to Mexico. With moving every year or changing schools since the fourth grade to her sophomore year, she learned reading was a fast escape. The freedom to read about anything and everything has fueled her adult imagination. She also enjoys romance, horses, and yes, still loves to read. Right now, she’s probably attacking her keyboard writing her next book. If she’s not, she should be!
Thank you to everyone for commenting. Congrats to the winners!
Traci- Kimmie L.
Dawne- Judy C.
Diana- Brannan B.
Sandra- Savannah C.
Thank You to Purple Sword Publications for coming out. Winners will be contacted via email.
*Pulls out chair and gets comfy*
So, Selena has let us, the rowdies from Purple Sword Publications, take over her blog for a week. Think she’d notice if her box of Godiva was missing? I know I saw one in her drawer over there. Okay, no conniving to get chocolate. *Pockets plan for a later date*
Well, let’s see. A few of us have already been by to gab and share. Let me tell you a little about what I do. Yes, I’m an author, both halves of me. LOL I’m also the review coordinator. I’m the one who sends and tracks review requests of each release. An average of ten different sites and houses get each release. When it’s returned, it’s posted in the reviews section of the PSP site. Be sure to check there often as they go up as soon as I get them forwarded to the head boss-lady.
Honestly, I love Purple Sword. Covers are fabulous, editors are pretty much aweseomsauce (if mine are reading this, you know you are, so just smile and nod), and one-on-one author-to-publisher or even customer-publisher relations is phenomenal. Seriously, where else would you get a corrected file copy at midnight? I’ve seen it happen.
As for what I write, I’d say “throw a dart” because I cover darned near everything in romance. Non-erotic is by Diana Castilleja, and anything that can be called erotic is by Diana DeRicci. Right now, I have a Christmas novella out FIRST CHRISTMAS, an M/M paranormal that has been receiving some wonderful reader praise. These guys really tug at the heartstrings. *sigh* Love Jason to bits! Okay, enough from me. Here’s a little taste for you guys!
P.S. If you have any questions or comments, please leave them!
Exhausted and injured, Jason is driven as a rogue wolf right into the arms of Lyndon, a man that by all he knows, he should never reveal his heart to. Yet when patience and compassion prove size can hide the heart of a gentle giant, a wounded Jason begins to heal. And to love again.
For two days the routine was essentially the same. Lyndon offered, and the wolf retreated. Healed enough to leave on the next morning, they both woke to a sheet of falling white.
?Well, damn. That?s going to make it fun,? Lyndon muttered. He didn?t let it show when he heard the wolf grump. He didn?t want to stay. Staying meant needing to shift was becoming a necessity.
?Well, let me get the morning going. Biscuits and gravy with bacon sound okay to you??
He didn?t wait for an answer, aware that expecting one would likely put more pressure on his guest. Instead, he laid out clothes again then went outside, tackling the snow to bring it in to melt.
Moving around the kitchen, he noticed the gray fur rug that had taken up residence in front of the fireplace was gone. The initial thought was he?d tried to leave during the blizzard, but he sincerely prayed he wouldn?t risk it.
He kept his surprise from being too obvious when he heard movement?physical human movement?from his bedroom.
Seemed patience had outlasted stubborn.
At six-eight, Lyndon knew he was intimidating. Because of that, he?d grown accustomed to moving slowly, talking gently, even if he was prone to talk a lot when he got going. He wasn?t the type to fly off the handle without provocation, and he didn?t stay mad for long. He?d hoped his guest had realized that over the last few days. Heck, even as a full size wolf, he?d looked more like a pup next to him. Not that he?d ever say that. Shifters did have pride.
Lyndon stopped stirring the gravy on the stove and turned to look for the first time at his guest. Shaggy auburn hair crowned a pale face, taken up almost completely by wide gray eyes.
?Morning,? Lyndon replied.
In an instant, Lyndon could discern without question why he hadn?t wanted to change. For a guy, he was too pretty. Big, stone gray eyes circled by cinnamon lashes, with a slim nose and perfect cheekbones, and full, sunset pink lips. With the red tint to his hair and fair skin, Lyndon guessed there was some natural redhead in his family tree, but the overall mix he got was pure feminine beauty.
On a guy it was a ticket to a life of hell.
The shirt and thermals he?d left on the bed swallowed the man?s frame. He was five-seven or -eight, if he stretched. A light frame made it worse. He wasn?t thin, or gamine, but he wasn?t thick like an athlete would be either.
Lyndon turned to not stare, aware that would make him more uncomfortable, continuing with breakfast. ?There?s spare toothbrushes in the catchall in the bathroom, and socks in the dresser. The gray thermals will keep you warm.? And everything he owned would be like dressing a five year-old in dad?s clothes.
?Thanks. I appreciate it,? he replied, a little soft, a lot nervous.
?No problem. This will be ready soon.?
He caught it out of the corner of his eye when his small pink tongue snuck out and licked his bottom lip. ?Jason Stanville.?
?Lyndon Granger. Nice to meet you.?
When he didn?t make any demands and Jason didn?t seem inclined to ask, he spun and vanished quickly into the bedroom. Lyndon let out a slow breath.
Way too pretty. How has he survived? Considering all the hiding he did the last three days, he wondered if he really was only surviving.
Author biography: Lila is an author who specializes in erotic romance with an element of the fantastic. ?When she’s not busy clicking the keys for the 12-novella series Jewels of Desire, she’s working on a myriad of new storylines that she’ll get around to writing down someday. On the rare occasion that her German work ethic lets her step away from the computer, she can be found one of two places: the gym or one of the fancy restaurants that make it necessary for her to go to the gym.
Web link(s): ?http://www.lilapearcewrites.com
JEWELS OF DESIRE – AN EROTIC NOVELLA MINISERIES
Anya is a single girl whose work-from-home lifestyle keeps her social life down to zero.? She hasn?t been on a date is so long that she can?t even dream up a decent fantasy man for the romance novel she is trying to write to pay her bills.? That all changes when her globe-trotting best friend sends her a surprise souvenir–a mysterious jewelry box with twelve smaller compartments.? When Anya dons the gems inside, she is whisked away in her sleep.? The laws of time and space don?t apply as she is transported around the globe and throughout history to experience lovers she never would have imagined even in her wildest dreams.? But there?s a catch.? There?s always a catch.
The buy link: http://purplesword.com/zencart/index.php?main_page=index&manufacturers_id=15
An excerpt (any heat rating):Anya sat cross-legged on the ground, staring at the necklace. It had to be the necklace that brought her to this strange place. What was Vanessa thinking? She’d been sitting here, listening to the goats bleating for what seemed like hours now. Outside the billowing walls of the tent, life went on, assumedly as normal, or whatever passed for normal in a wasteland encampment. She still hadn’t screwed up the courage to leave the tent. She told herself it was the lack of clothing.
Laughter from just outside the entrance finally broke Anya’s concentration on the necklace. She scrambled to the edge of the curtain that served as an interior wall as a man in loose-fitting black robes flipped aside the entrance. For a few moments, he stood blocking the doorway as he finished the conversation he was having with a person outside. The other voice was as dry and graveled as the ground. The man who entered cut a dark silhouette against the backdrop of the afternoon sun, obscuring his facial features from Anya’s view. A red-and-white-checkered cloth covered his head, secured by a double strand of black rope. He had to duck to clear the lower dips in the tent’s ceiling. Long, graceful strides carried him to where she hid. Her breath caught in her throat as she turned to stand stock still against the shifting wall. She barely heard his approaching footsteps through the frantic beating of her heart. As he moved closer, he started to hum a lilting melody. What would she say when he asked how she got there? Or what she was doing there? His voice rumbled deep in his throat as he started to half sing the lulling song. Anya clutched the rough blanket tighter around her naked body and squeezed her eyes shut tight.
The humming stopped.
She felt his presence standing in front of her for several long moments before she dared chance a look.
Two round eyes, so brown they looked black in the dim light, scanned her from head to toe. There was no anger, no irritation, and no confusion in them. If anything, Anya would have said he looked amused. She stared into the man’s face, unable to tear her gaze away. Light stubble dusted his square jaw, giving him shadows beneath high cheekbones. His skin was the color of milk chocolate left in the sun and glistened with a sheen of sweat and fine sand. Her heart began racing in earnest when he gave her a lopsided grin.
“Ma hadha?” The question sounded friendly enough.
She shook her head and shrugged, hoping he understood that she didn’t.
“What is this? You are no Bedu,” he said.
Her question came out as a breathless whisper. “Bedu?”
“Person of the desert,” he answered. Giving her another appreciative head-to-toe glance, he reached out to run his fingers down her arm. A trail of goosebumps followed his fingers. “No. Your skin is far too pale.”
Anya’s skin felt on fire where he touched her. “Who are you? Is this a dream?”
The man threw back his head and laughed, revealing a flash of white teeth behind his full lips. “My name is Muammar, and if the laws of hospitality did not forbid it, I would ask you the same,” he explained. “If you are a dream, then it is the most beautiful one I have ever had.” He stretched a hand toward her hair.
Ducking under his arm and stepping past him, she evaded his grasp. She could only imagine what the night, and possibly time travel, had done to the state of her curls. Chances were it hadn’t improved the mess.
He erupted in hearty laughter, the sound like rich velvet in her ears. His whole torso shook as he closed the distance between them. “How is it that you come into my home without clothes and now become so modest?”
Anya backed up until her heels hit the edge of the mattress she woke up on. “I?I, well?” She wondered what she should say. This had to be a dream. “I don’t know,” she finished lamely. She dropped her eyes to the ground rather than look him in the face any longer. “Now, now,” Muammar said, tipping her chin upward with long, tan fingers. “It is of no importance to me how you came here, simply that you are here.” He leaned forward, bringing his lips to touch lightly against hers. His breath smelled of coffee and cinnamon. Strong hands cradled her face.
The pounding of her heart drowned out the sound of the voice in her head as his hands found their way into her hair. Ignoring the warning scream in her head, she parted her lips to his gentle kiss, instantly rewarded with the feel of his tongue dancing across her mouth. What the hell? A dream was a dream. Imaginary sex was the safest she could have, and lately, the only kind she’d been having. Letting the blanket fall out of one hand, she reached up to touch the black ropes that held his head covering in place.
Muammar removed the checkered cloth with a quick jerk, letting it fall to the desert floor in a fluttering spiral. Anya ran her fingers through his close-cropped black curls and trailed them down his face, feeling the scratch of his new beard against her palm. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground until her head stood slightly above his.
Anya gasped as his strong embrace forced the air from her lungs, and she threw her arms around his neck. The woolen blanket fell away to reveal her naked body to the warm air. She didn’t have time to feel self-conscious before she felt him, hard against her leg. Breaking the kiss, she pulled her face away and stared down into his eyes. Desire burned bright as coals as he looked back at her, unblinking, and she knew whatever suspicions she had for the current situation were lost. Dream or reality, there was no question about it; he wanted her, and that was enough.
“My most beautiful dream,” he whispered into her ear, his breath hot on her bare skin.
What prize are you offering? ?An emailed copy of one of the installments of Jewels of Desire (i.e. the first, “Garnet Dreams,” unless the winner already happens to have one.)
Dawn? Dominique is a multi-published author of erotic romance, paranormal, and fantasy. Weaving tales of intrigue that include riveting characters and spellbinding plots, she takes great pleasure in immersing an unsuspecting reader into the worlds she created, refusing to let them go until that last page is read.
Voted Best Cover Artist by Preditors & Editors Reader?s Poll, she is also a moderator of a young adult novel workshop, a managing editor and book cover artist for several publishers, a full-time writer, and a?2011 EPIC eBook?finalist.
She embraces life with one simple rule:
?Everything in life happens for a reason, be it good or bad, and it?s because of this we learn never to take anything for granted.?
Book title and?blurb: Eden’s Hell, I: The First
In the beginning??God created man and called him Adam, a fine specimen replicated in his own image. He then created woman to ease Adam?s loneliness and named her Lillith. Unfortunately, God realized his mistake too late in giving woman free will, for she would rule her domain?not man.?When Lillith left Adam, God created another for his first-born son, and gave her the name Eve and a kingdom called Eden, but by then it was too late, for he?d unleashed Hell into the world of man.
They arrived at the premiere of?Holier Ground, an action thriller movie, in the midst of flashing cameras and paparazzi. Eva went to open the car door, but Addison placed a hand on hers, a hand that felt warmer than usual.
?Our driver would be most insulted if you do that.?
He threaded his fingers through hers and pulled her closer to his side of the vehicle, her heart lurching at the intimate touch. The door opened, and Eva blinked against the flashing bright lights and the masses of people trying to vie for a closer look at anyone arriving in limousines. They had parked at the side lane of the theatre, but she saw the red carpet just around the corner of the brick, neon lighted building. Addison guided her to an inconspicuous metal door where they slipped through unnoticed.
She felt like a child attending her first amusement park. There were so many beautiful people, movie and television stars, sports celebrities, even a famous governor. In an effort not to gawk, she kept her eyes glued to the floor. Addison held her arm, introducing her to an array of people. She didn?t want to embarrass him by sounding like a blubbering idiot, so she only nodded a shy hello and said nothing.
He proudly paraded her on his arm, introduced her immediately to guests, and pushed a path for them when the crowds thickened. His eloquent manners made her feel like nobility, and people treated him like that as well. This was far better than Cinderella?s ball.
The night was magical. When the premiere ended, they walked, hand in hand, toward the private exit. If someone had asked her what the movie was about, she?d be lost. All she remembered was Addison sitting beside her and holding her hand throughout the entire film. Even now, with his palm pressed against hers, she felt safe, wanted and respected. Several feet from the door, something brushed across her shoulder. Eva turned and screamed, thankful she hadn?t fainted.
Heads turned and stared.
Satrina smiled, frigid and calculating. Her black gown looked glued to her body, concealing only the necessary parts that wouldn?t get her arrested for indecent exposure. The back was lower than Eva?s, revealing the top crack and arch of a perfectly shaped ass. The black of the material against her pale skin was breathtaking.
Addison didn?t look impressed. He pushed Eva behind him. ?I thought these events bored you, Satrina?? he mocked. His fingers tightened around hers.
The vampiress sneered, and it was directed right at Eva. ?There seems to be a lot you don?t know about me, Addison, my love.? A thin, black eyebrow rose. ?And sharing my bed all those years, I?d thought you?d have learned a thing or two. Hell knows, I taught you.? She leaned to the side and peered at her. ?Nice to see you again, Eva, my dear. You look good enough to eat this evening.?
When she flashed those pearly-whites, Eva drew back, squeezing her eyes closed.
?Did you enjoy the show?? Satrina?s mock sweetness stung like vinegar in a cut.
?Your answer is to be delivered to me no later than the eve of tomorrow, not now. So, until that time, you will stay away from Eva, and that includes your?pets!? Addison growled and again, several more heads turned their way.
Eva heard whispered snickers and bit back her revulsion. A flash of Satrina?s emerald eyes revealed something cold and deadly, but also something else; something that stunned her. She tried to shrink into Addison?s back.?Oh, my God. She?s still in love with him!
?I challenge you, Addison, my love,? Satrina whispered, sensually running her blood-red nails down his cheek. ?I?ll notify the Elders Creed. Tomorrow evening it is.? She sauntered away without a backward glance, the blond boy-toy she?d brought as a date clinging to her arm like a well-trained Kewpie doll.
Addison continued to growl like a dog, low and menacing. The demonic sound made Eva shiver, but realization at what just happened felt far worse.
He remained quiet on the ride back to the beach house. She, too, had little to say, but her brain wouldn?t stop.?This is all because of me. Me! Addison will be punished for trying to save my life.?She faltered.?But I?ll be dead, too. Satrina wants me six feet under.?Eva snuck a sideways glance at Addison.
He stared out the window, his face as expressionless as ever, but she noticed the tiny lines surrounding his eyes had deepened and his lips were thinner, paler.
?I?m sorry, Addison,? she mumbled. Although it sounded lame, she?d never felt more contrite as she did now.
Roused from his thoughts, he looked at her, confused. ?So, it?s your turn to begin apologizing??
She stared down at her hands, praying she wouldn?t cry. ?If you hadn?t found me on the bea??
?Then you?d be living in a cage until you submitted to her?or she killed you.?
He took her hands in his, forcing her to look at him. Reluctantly, she did, trying not to break down.
?I?ve lived a very long time, Eva,? he began, ?but I?ve been dead to everything around me. I?ve existed for one thing, my thirst, content in my hell until now.?
She drew back, not understanding.
Addison?s shoulders rolled with an indifferent shrug. ?If there is punishment, the Elders Creed will decide. As I explained, if, and I reiterate?if?Satrina wins, she will get to choose my punishment in accordance with the Alluminatae, but it will not be death. There are worse things than that,? he added under his breath.
?Let me finish, Eva.? His eyes took on a stranger glow, an effulgence that made her chest tighten. ?In this short time that I?ve known you, I?ve never felt more alive.?
She went to speak, but his steely stare silenced her.
?I am a creature of the night, a monster, and I promise that you will not suffer the same fate.? He paused with a sad smile. ?Eva, there is such goodness in you, it blinds me. Its power is absolute. This world needs you. I don?t fear death?only yours. It?s been so long since I?ve felt anything. My soul has been dead for an eternity. I?ve lived this long for entirely selfish reasons. At first, I thought that if I followed the Alluminatae perhaps I could change things, be repented, something.? He trailed off, his voice subdued. ?When I realized I was a fool to believe that, the thirst?? Pain swathed deep lines of sorrow across his face, and he cleared his throat. ?A stronger man would have destroyed himself by now, but me, the succulent taste of blood and a beating heart, not from fodder, but from my own heart, is what has kept me here. To feel alive, something mortals take for granted.?
Addison placed her hand against his chest, his pec hard and chiseled beneath his shirt. ?This beats only after I?ve fed, and the ice of my skin warms just a little, but I?m alive, Eva,alive! My curse is an addiction. It?s what has kept me in this world. I crave life, to feel human, and only appeasing my thirst achieves it. Yet??
He dropped her hand and leaned back into his seat. Stoic, he stared out the tinted window. ?You give me the same joy without the necessity of digesting blood. The thirst is there, always, but its torment is more bearable because of you.?
His confession rendered her speechless. Eva felt like someone had dropped her down a dark hole, but she hadn?t fallen; she floated instead.
?Satrina wants you because she sees what you do to me. And she can?t, and won?t allow me such happiness,? he added, his voice barely an audible whisper. His hand sought hers again, and he gave it a gentle squeeze. ?You are a pawn in all this, Eva. And Satrina does this for spite. She?s very good at that, let me assure you. She cares nothing about life except what she can take from it.? He sighed. ?You have opened eyes that have been blinded for centuries.?
Flabbergasted, Eva clung to his hand. Stifling silence filled the backseat. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and forced the words out. ?She?s still in love with you, Addison.?
He?humphed?and gurgled a cruel chuckle. ?Evil does not know how to love, Eva. It covets and then takes what it wants.?
What prize are you offering? An author?signed print copy of Eden’s Hell.
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Blurb:? When survival is of the utmost importance, it?s best to shoot first and ask questions later, especially if you won?t like the answers.
The 22nd century is heinous.? Finding a comfortable life in the Levinese Galaxy grows increasingly difficult.
Emma Gardine, one of a handful of female pirate captains in this throwback Victorian society, begs, borrows, steals and cheats her way through the planetary system on the hunt of a profit.? An expert of guarding her heart and keeping people out, she never shows remorse and uses people until she gets what she wants, yet the hope for a normal life glimmers just beyond her reach.? Then she meets Tarik Vartouth and her world splinters with new emotions and possibilities.
Tarik survived the murder of his sisters and the collapse of his laid-back existence.? He?s sick of the mandatory breeding programs for genetic supremacy on Nazulara that sends innocent people to death and desires to campaign for democracy for his species.? When the opportunity to befriend Emma is presented, he takes it and makes a play for her ship in order to carry out his own plot for revenge against his father?the Premier and ruler of the planet.? Stakes are raised when sparks between him and Emma fly.?? Now their future and Nazulara?s, hangs in the balance.
Excerpt:? Tarik couldn?t forget the raw emotion that blazed in the green depths of her eyes?anger, hatred and stark, consuming need. Whatever drove the woman came crashing to a head in that one act, undoubtedly designed to catch him off guard.
It would have worked except for the shudder he felt shake her frame. He?d bet she managed to surprise herself. He refused to think about it further. It was one moment, nothing more.
Instead, he laced his fingers with hers, brought her hands slowly down, and held them behind her back while he plundered her mouth. Velvet lips gave way under the strength of his mouth. He thrust his tongue inside, demanding entrance, accepting her surrender, and seeking solace. He released her hands in order to capture her face between his palms and fit his mouth more comfortably over hers. When that wasn?t close enough, he pressed her body fully against the freight container, molding his lean length into her soft curves as if they?d become one entity. His erection strained against his pants and, for the first time, he was glad for the extra room the loose-fitting Nazulara trousers afforded.
And still, he kissed her.
He ran his tongue along her bottom lip and the lushness of it spurred him onward. Tarik felt her hands at his chest, sweeping along his torso before she buried her fingers in his hair at the base of his skull. He bit down gently on her lip, heard her whimper of acceptance, and once more, searched out her tongue.
Finally, he wrenched away for the mere reason that he needed to breathe. The whole episode didn?t last more than a minute?two at the most, but he felt as if he?d entered a new dimension, one so foreign he had no idea how to act or what to do.
That decision was taken from him when Emma slapped his cheek so hard he was sure he?d feel it two weeks from now.
Publisher?s website:? http://www.purplesword.com
Book video:? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jFUr67nL4so
Heat rating: erotic romance
Author bio:? Sandra is a writer of romantic fiction.? Her portfolio includes historical, contemporary, sci-fi and paranormal romances.? She loves to blend genres and spice them up and often times will add humor as well.
After catching the writing bug at the young age of ten, she?s gone on to grow her unique writing style.? She?s a regular contributor for the Paranormal Romantic?s blog and has a great time keeping things interesting at the Believing is Seeing blog.
When not immersed in creating new worlds and interesting characters, Sandra likes to read, bake and travel.? Her favorite place to spend vacation hours is Walt Disney World.? It?s where dreams come true and the soul can play.? That suits her just fine.
Writing is her ultimate dream job.
Prize offering?a collection of book swag which includes postcards, magnets, a beaded bookmark and a few surprises.
About Purple Sword Publications
I’m Traci Markou, owner of Purple Sword Publications. Thank you, Selena, for having me here on your blog today.
Purple Sword started in April of 2009 as a haven for books that had lost their home due to the unexpected closure of another publishing house I worked for. I had been editing and designing cover art for other houses since late 2006 and, by far, my favorite works were the ones that contained aspects of romance and speculative fiction such as horror, fantasy, paranormal, or science fiction. I wanted a publishing house that would primarily represent those types of works. I also wanted a house that didn’t mill authors and accept anything and everything that was submitted (having been on the editor’s end of that aspect and suffered through manuscripts that were clearly rough drafts).
I publish works from authors who write stories I love to read, and that’s really the biggest qualification for being accepted at Purple Sword. I like strong heroines and well-matched heroes. I like a story that takes me away from the mundane and shows me something unexpected. I want to fall in love with the characters as they fall in love with each other during their journey. And I want an adventure.
To date Purple Sword has published over 57 stories from novella length to epic novel. We have several titles available in print, and our authors continue to write fantastic stories for our loyal readers. My hope for the future is that Purple Sword will continue to grow, butnever outgrow its authors. We now publish Mainstream works, the first title being Diana Castilleja’s?Ice Cream in the Snow, and we look forward to many more titles in this line.
Our bestsellers continue to be vampires and shapeshifters (usually wolves). We have quite a hot selection of them if you’d like to check them out.
If you have any questions about Purple Sword, please leave a comment for me here at Selena’s blog and ask. I will draw a random winner for the Purple Sword print book of their choice. (limited to mailing in the continental United States)