if you had the chance to live out
your wildest fantasies, would you?
Without a doubt what tough F.B.I. Special Agent Angel Nicholas saw spotlighted before her in the center of the vast chamber was clearly the most magnificent specimen of masculine beauty that she had ever seen in her life. He was without a doubt absolutely, stunningly gorgeous.
Tall, he had to top at least six foot six, give or take an inch or two or three, and every single one of those marvelous inches was beautifully muscled, the firm curves of those muscles gleaming as if they had been oiled. His chest and shoulders were broad, the pecs deeply curved, his stomach giving a new definition to washboard abs. His waist and hips were narrow, every muscle of them—including his obliques—sharply defined. Even his legs were gorgeous.
Hair as dark and as glossy as a raven’s wing streamed as smooth and straight as a ruler to his broad shoulders, framing a face that might have been carved by a master sculptor. Every line of it was clean, perfect, from his broad forehead to his high cheekbones with their deep hollows beneath, his finely bridged nose to the defined line of his square jaw. His mouth was a thing of beauty, firm, neither too thin nor too lush. There would be dimples in those cheeks if he smiled.
Completely naked from the top of his horned head to his feet, it was impossible for her to miss any part of him…including those short curved horns and the sinuous tail that twined like a cat’s around his body, except that his tail was smooth save for the end of it where it flared into a point. The motion of that tail was oddly hypnotic, twining and swaying like a cat’s, too. A pair of partly folded wings arched up from his back.
His skin was colored a deep rich red—not copper, red , a dark scarlet, like the guy from that movie, and yet not—with odd patterns of black that shifted and flowed beneath the surface like a chameleon's skin, constantly changing, except that unlike a chameleon’s it appeared to be as smooth as silk. The shifting colors seemed to reflect his agitation—none of which showed on his impassive face, but was echoed in every line of his incredible body.
Beautiful long-lashed eyes the color of rubies touched with molten gold met hers reflecting both a kindness and an ancient wisdom. The patterns of red and gold within those eyes shifted and whirled entrancingly, enticingly.
He had fangs, the faint white tips indenting his lower lip.
Both hands and feet bore claws the color of polished jet. His hands were huge, the fingers long but strong.
Iron bracelets encircled his wrists. Something about them said that they were not decoration.
Despite the circumstances, just looking at him, at all the magnificent masculine glory of him, had Angel yearning to touch all of that gorgeous gleaming skin, no matter what color it was. She wanted to run her fingers through that silken ebony hair, to feel those long, strong, clawed hands on her flesh, that sinuous tail twining around her body as it now twined around his.
For all that what she saw spotlighted in the middle of the floor was frankly impossible.
Federal Prosecutor L.C. Mackay couldn’t cruise the bars—that was too dangerous for someone in her position. Instead she decided to check the dating websites. Not for dates; she was too busy for relationships, especially in the middle of one of the biggest trials of her career. She just wanted sex. Hot, lusty, soul-shattering sex. The perfect way to destress and relax.
The man was beautiful. He had the face of a fallen angel and a body made for a pin-up calendar. So what was he doing on a dating site? His name was Rick, the caption said, and his profile was simple—if a woman was looking for good, clean, no-strings sex, contact him. He always wore a condom, had no communicable diseases and could provide proof if asked.
Just what she needed. But, she wasn’t really considering it, was she?
Raphaela Carteret – Rafi to her friends – is a dedicated civil servant. Her job isn’t glamorous, and her dating prospects are limited by the crappy hours and the company she keeps. Worse, she can’t seem to find one man who can satisfy her...
Enter Michael Niculescu.
He and his cousin, Nicholas are vampires with a problem—after three thousand years or so they’re tired of always trying to find a meal. Through an Internet dating service Michael meets Raphaela and sparks fly. He takes her home to meet Nico. The two men are so close that they share everything.
Michael and Nico offer Rafi a proposition that’s difficult to resist - she would have two men devoted to her needs, a mansion to live in, fancy cars to drive and she’ll want for nothing.
So, what's the catch? Oh, yeah, they’d drink her blood now and then, and make it worth her while while they're at it.
Rafi discovers that while one man might not be enough for her, two sexy vampires most definitely are.
Although the Book of Demons has been consigned to the ethereal realms it still offers a danger to the Daemonae, for their enemy still searches for it. Should it be found again none will be safe.
More even than Asmodeus, Ashtoreth understands the danger the Book present to them, and so he searches for a way to find it, and get rid of it forever.
Professor Miri Reynolds, PhD, physicist and metaphysicist may offer the answer, for she holds a secret - a clairvoyant, she can See the ethereal planes, and to his shock, Ash, in his true form.
Even more of a shock is the fact that with one touch he discovers that Miri Reynolds is the one woman he can't live without. He who had thought himself too damaged by the past, too cynical and jaded to find a mate.
Miri can't deny the connection either, entranced with the exotic, impossibly handsome stranger with the seemingly cruel face and gentle hands.
Someone else is looking for Miri, though, and for the same reasons. It will take all of Ash's Daemonae skills and wit, and Miri's knowledge, to keep her out of the hands of their common enemy.
Both of them, in the end, will be tested...
Song of the Fairy Queen
When head of security for Fairview Mountain Resort Jack Spencer calls, computer wizard and involuntary troubleshooter Carrie Anderson answers. Not because Jack's hot - although he is, but he's married - and not because she wants to, but because he's got something on her, he knows about her after hours, and sometimes during hours, mission to rescue battered women.
The Coming Storm