Monday, October 24, 2016

On A Black Horse by Monica Corwin

On A Black Horse
Monica Corwin
Book 3 in the Revelations Series     *     45 000 words     *     PNR, violence, language, explicit sex.

When a Sun God makes a prophecy, it’s best to heed the warning.

Katherine stands on the edge of ruin. With Ragnarok in full swing and her friends off finding thier own lives she can’t find a purpose in her existence. When Baldr, their missing Sun God, kidnaps Katherine and entreats her to care for his friend, a wounded hellhound, Katherine makes a selfish choice for the first time in her life.

Arwan never expected to meet a God, let alone fight a group of them to begin the Apocalypse. After the battle between Bianca, the Horseman of Conquest, and Hel, the Goddess of the Underworld, Arwan, escapes home to the Welsh coast intent to die on his own land.

With Hel dead, the Horseman believe they’ve stalled Ragnarok. But Baldr has a dream that convinces the Horseman to take out the remaining hounds loyal to Hel which includes the incapacitated Arwan.

Can Katherine go against her friends to save a man she promised to protect? Even if Arwan could end the Horseman for good?
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The woman shifted in the arm chair and then rocketed to standing. She blinked at the fire and then around the room spinning slowly until her eyes locked on Baldir. “YOU! What the hell is wrong with you? How could you just abduct me like that? I have a cell phone. You could ask for anything and I would give it if it were in my power.”
Arwan looked her over again from the soles of her scuffed up sneakers to the skinny jeans hugging the strong curve of her upper thighs and the purple tank top that set off the olive tone of her smooth skin. “Are you a genie?”
Her eyes locked on his and for a moment he could swear he felt something melt within him under that fiery gaze. “Who the hell are you?”
“I could ask you the same question since you are standing in my house.”
She threw up her hands. “I don’t want to be in your house. I was brought against my will.”
They both looked to Baldir who wore a sheepish grin and a pink flush.
He stood so he could look between them both. “Ok look.” He faced the woman. “If I had asked you to come here you would have refused. I know it.” Then he turned to Arwan. “And you would have been your surly self about the whole thing and just died out of spite instead of letting me get help.”
Arwan glared at him. He’d been called surly, pig-headed, and any other synonym of stubborn over the years. He took a deep breathe and glanced back at the woman. “Fine, again I ask who are you?”
She crossed her arms under her breasts. He couldn’t help but notice the full weight of them propped up by her forearms. He shook that thought path off. He was dying, there was no time for thoughts like that. “My name is Arwan.”
She huffed. “Katherine.”
“So what are you then?”
Katherine shuffled from foot to foot. “I’m a barista.”
Baldir interjected. “She owns a coffee shop. It’s in New York City, no less. She’s a little more than a barista. Not that her coffee making skills will apply in this situation.”
“Why am I here?” Katherine asked still clutching herself tightly while attempting to give off more attitude than Arwan could see she possessed. Some of her brown hair had escaped it’s confines casting a halo around her head in wavy curls. She looked so young, so innocent to be involved in their world.
“No.” Arwan pushed himself off the bed with effort. His forehead sprouted a fine sheen of swear by the time he reached his full height. She barely stood as tall as his chin but at 6’4 he towered over most people. “She is too innocent for this. I won’t corrupt another poor soul to save myself.”
He tried to move toward her but caught the chair the wrong way and went down. Her arms were around him before he hit the floor and she set him carefully on the scuffed and aged hardwood.
“You’re hurt,” she said, softly, still holding him.
The heat of her body sunk into him reaching those dark places long chilled by the absence of others. She smelled of chocolate and coffee beans. A heady scent comforting him before he that realization set in.

 Author Bio:

Monica Corwin is an outspoken writer attempting to make romance accessible to everyone, no matter their preference. As a Northern Ohioian Monica enjoys snow drifts, three seasons of weather, and a dislike of Michigan. When not writing Monica spends time with her daughter and her ever growing collection of tomes about King Arthur.
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Friday, October 21, 2016

Haunted Halloween Spooktacular: Outback Heat by Lexxie Couper

Outback Heat
Lexxie Couper

Release Date: October 1, 2016

ISBN: 978-1-945193-50-7

Categories: Shifters, Suspense,
Paranormal Romance

Flame: 4

Price: $2.99

Book Description:

Never let horny dogs lie.

Searching for her missing uncle, Katy-Lin Yunker finds herself in the isolated, mysterious Australian Outback town of Kangaroo Creek. The whole town seems to have a secret, one that her heart tells her involves her AWOL, eccentric uncle. She’s at her wits end but determined to find him, no matter what the cost. And then the sexiest man she’s ever seen walks into the bar and things get really…dangerous.

Dean Singleton has tried to deny the animalistic nature of his species. A dingo shifter with a profound connection to the ancient magic of the land, Dean knows surrendering to his inner animal may lead him down a path he cannot come back from. But when he sees Katy-Lin—a human—the carnal desire he feels for her rocks him to his core. So what is he to do when he learns she’s the niece of the man who has uncovered the existence of his kind, threatening the safety of his pack and all the shifters in the Creek?

Dean and Katy find it impossible to fight against their attraction…but someone else has plans for Katy. Someone who wants Dean dead. In a land more brutal than most, this California girl is about to discover not only how wild a dingo shifter can be, but how fierce she can be.


This down under tale was a great read. Who wouldn't love this twist on shifters with red hot chemistry and animal attraction.


Halloween Down Under

Halloween isn’t a thing in Australia yet. The shops are trying like hell to make it one (every September the Halloween decorations hit the shelves, and every November 1 there is a mass sale on the enormous stock left). There are people in Australia that get very angry about the idea of Halloween being celebrated Down Under. There are also people in Australia (like me) who think it’s a lot of fun and get into it every year.

Our house was the first house on our street to put out jack o’ lanterns (made from actual jack o’ lantern pumpkins. Down Under, our pumpkins tend to be blue and are delicious made into a soup). Our house was the first house to have Halloween decorations up for the last week of October. We were the first family in our street to be sneered at by the neighbours and passer-bys for “bowing to an American thing”. I pointed out to more than one person that Halloween didn’t actually START in the US, but they weren’t listening.

Slowly, ever-so-slowly, Halloween is creeping into the Australian calendar. It will never be as big here as what it is in the States, I suspect. But it’s gaining legs. The houses that want to be a part of the Halloween fun attach orange balloons to their letterboxes to let the few Trick-or-treaters walking the streets know they can knock on the door, show off their scary costumes and hold out their bags for lollies and choccies, without fear of being yelled at.

My girls (12yrs and 8 yrs old) LOVE Halloween. They love dressing up (last year they were both witches). They love the decorations. They love the fun. And when they are sneered at by grumpy anti-Halloween kill-joys they laugh at them. One year, for their school’s October bake sale, I made “witches fingers” cupcakes. Boy…did the other kids love them. The other parents and teachers? Not so much.

This year, we are going to throw our first ever Halloween party. You can only come if A/ you’re in costume, B/ you’re prepared to listen to the Monster Mash more than once during the night, and C/ your costume can survive a dunk in the pool (it’s on its way to being well and truly hot Down Under at the end of October, so swimming will be a part of the Halloween fun). And for anyone that rocks up to our house complaining about us celebrating a “silly American thing”…well, they just might find themselves being swarmed by scary monsters and tossed in the pool.

Happy Halloween world!!

About the Author:

Lexxie Couper started writing when she was six and hasn't stopped since. She's not a deviant, but she does have a deviant’s imagination and a desire to entertain readers with her words. Add the two together and you get erotic romances that can make you laugh, cry, shake with fear or tremble with desire. Sometimes all at once.

For more information on other books by Lexxie, visit her website:

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Thursday, October 20, 2016

Haunted Halloween Spooktacular: Struck By Eros

Struck By Eros
Redeeming Cupid
Book One
Jenn Windrow

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Muse It Up

Date of Publication: July 8th, 2016

ISBN: 1771278196


Number of pages: 242
Word Count: 62K

Cover Artist: Eerilyfair Design

Book Description:

One jaded woman. Two hot men. A challenge to prove Cupid doesn't always know best.

After a lifetime of dating losers, Noel Chase thinks she’s found love with college professor Len Holder. But Cupid's aim sucks worse than his crap-tacular curse, sticking her with supposed soul mate, Grayson Adler. Grayson is gorgeous, Greek, and an exact replica of the man-whores of her past. No matter what the chubby cherub thinks, Noel is sure Grayson is Mr. Wrong with a capital “W.”

Forced to do Cupid’s bidding, Noel must spend her days with Grayson matchmaking the unlucky-in-loves, and trying to resist Grayson’s charm and do-me-now sex appeal. But when Cupid tries to match her fiancé, Len, with another woman, Noel must make an excruciating decision. Defy Cupid and hang on to Len? Or succumb to her fate and trust Grayson with her heart?

BN     Amazon     Kobo      MuseItUp     iBooks


The morning fog ebbed, and the sun peeked between the clouds. Joggers ran through the shallow water, families searched for seashells, and ten feet away, a gaggle of girls surrounded Grayson like seagulls circling a kid with popcorn.
I trekked through the warm sand, threw myself into a chair underneath the rainbow-striped umbrella, and scared away Grayson’s entourage. “Let’s find our lonely hearts and get this over with.”
“Hello to you too, sunshine.”
Pulling a book out of my bag, I cracked it open and settled into my time-toignore-
Grayson pose. A pose that took me weeks to perfect. “Let’s not pretend we enjoy each other’s company.”
“Don’t you get sick of always being…” He waved his hand back and forth in my direction like a conductor guiding an orchestra. “You?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that if the stick in your ass got any higher we could hang a flag over your head and declare you your own state.”
I peeked over the top of my book. “Go get eaten by a shark.”
“Better than sitting on the beach with a crab.” Grayson hopped off his towel, jogged down the seaweed-covered sand, and got lost in the distance. I’d see him again when he located our wayward couple with the bobbing purple arrows over their heads.
Comforted by the sound of waves crashing on the shore, I tried to get interested in the story of a man and woman who managed to find love no matter how many obstacles life put in their way.
Choking out a laugh, I dropped the book in my lap. “What a crock of crap.” If finding the love of your life were so simple, Grayson and I would be leading ordinary lives far away from each another, instead of providing divine intervention for wayward soul mates.
Twenty minutes later, Grayson jogged back, snatched a towel, and wiped away the coat of sweat that covered his perfectly chiseled abs. I couldn’t help but notice the way his black board shorts showed off his Apollo’s belt, that lovely little “V” indent by his pelvic bone. Just because I didn’t want to spend eternity with him didn’t mean I couldn’t admire the spectacular view.
“Found our mark.” He grabbed a water bottle and took a gulp. “I’ll need your help.”
I tossed my book on the sand. “Anything to move this day along.”
With another gulp of water, Grayson grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the chair. “Scenario Sixty-Two?” A couple at odds.
“No. Not Sixty-Two. I don’t have the mental fortitude to fake a fight with you. How about Eight?” I pulled my hand out of his before the lust ignited and we ended up on a Serta sleeper with post-orgasmic guilt.
“Eight won’t work. He’s not exactly… handsome.” Grayson scrunched his nose, which only made him look more adorable.
Not what I wanted to hear. “How about Thirteen?” I wasn’t in the mood to hit on anyone today, but the lesser of two evils and all that.
“Thirteen it is.”
We approached the lavish, red and white beachfront hotel most people found beautiful. It reminded me of the ex-asshole playing hide-the-sausage in the honeymoon suite with his assistant while I stood groomless under a hydrangea covered trellis on this very same beach.
Cupid delighted in finding new ways to torture me.
We walked down the stone path to the beachfront café where a purple arrow floated over a man in his late twenties with a receding hairline, pockmarks, and a shirt that read, “I’m not a geek, I’m a level nine warlock.” No wonder Grayson wanted Scenario Sixty-Two; he had a soft spot for the desperate.
Grayson reached out and unbuttoned three buttons on my bathing suit cover up, exposing a lot more cleavage than a level nine warlock deserved. “Better than your personality.”
I shoved his hands away. “Just go find his other half.”
Grayson blew me a kiss and wandered off.
I closed one of the buttons, slid into the empty seat next to him at the bar, and held out my hand. “Hi, I’m Noel.”
He took a gander of the goods, then knocked over his drink in a hurry to shake my hand. A foamy white substance smelling of rum and coconut crept along the wood. His stare wandered between the crawling liquid and back to me, but he finally made the decision to ignore the mess and talk to the hot girl.
“Norm.” He ogled my abundant cleavage, then remembered his good manners, clasping my hand in his, shaking vigorously.
Thank God for divine intervention, or this poor shmuck would never get laid.
But today was Norm’s lucky day. Today he’d meet his other half. The ying to his yang. The milk to his cookie. The peanut butter to his jelly. And he might even have sex.
“Do you play Warcraft?” He looked hopeful.
I shook my head.
“It’s a great game. See, the elves hate the orcs…” Norm started his very detailed explanation.
At the twenty-minute mark of the ins and outs of The World of Warcraft, I developed an irritating twitch. Another moment and I was going to find a BFG, otherwise known as a Big Fucking Gun in geek speak, and shoot myself.


Snarky and awesome, this book grabbed me from the start. This is a new author for me and I will be looking into more of her titles. Great book!


Flash Fiction by Jenn Windrow

Armed guards pulled me from my cell, and dragged me over the blood splattered Astro-turf. They shackled me to the goal post at the end of a football field turned-execution-chamber, stripped me of my last remaining article of clothing and left me to die.
Ten guards stood in a circle around me, machine guns pointed at my head. They thought they were safe. Five television crews hurried around the arena preparing for tonight’s broadcast. They thought they were safe. A priest knelt in front of a vat of water, blessing it. He thought he was safe. I’m a vampire.
No one was safe.
The announcer grabbed my chin with his pudgy, gloved hand. His mouth spread into an ugly smile before he turned and blocked the crowds view. He cleared his throat and spit. The warm glob landed on my cheek and slid down before dropping to the ground. He would be the first to die.
For five days my human captors tortured me, punished me, abused me. I allowed it. Their acts bought me time to plan my escape. The bitter blood of a family of rats who shared my cell kept me alive, their donation helped remove the last trace of poison that coursed through my veins.
Humans. They thought they got lucky catching one of the Seven Sovereign leaders of the vampire race. It hadn’t been luck. I’d been set up. By the six vampires I trusted the most. Betrayed, martyred, and left for dead at the entrance of a Vampire Apprehension Station. Silver injected in my blood to keep me compliant, close to death, to ensure I didn’t slaughter the humans. Sacrificed because I didn’t agree with their vision of the future and refused to cower to a lesser race.
Betrayal was an ugly thing.
But so was revenge.
The stadium lights flickered on and flooded the field in a cold white light. I lowered my head and let my greasy hair shield my eyes from the glare. Soft footfalls approached, bringing the all-too-familiar smell of body odor and peppermint with them. For five nights the same pungent odor visited me to pray for my undead soul.
My gaze followed the priest’s movements. He dipped a chalice into a vat of water, and raised the cup in the air, drops of water sloshed over the sides and fell to the ground. He walked over to me, the beads of his crucifix clicking against the gold cross.
“Delano Melazi, I’ll ask you again. Shall I pray for your undead soul?”
I ignored him tonight as I’ve done the last five times he asked me this question. It wasn’t my soul he needed to pray for, and it wasn’t my body they would be burying this evening.
A moment of silence stretched between us. He huffed and gestured for the guards. Two hurried over. “Hold his head.” Warm fingers dug into my scalp and forced me to meet the priest’s eyes. The twinkle in his baby blues was more devil than saint.
“By the authority of the church, I mark you as one of the damned.” He dipped his index finger into the chalice. The water rippled. He pulled his finger out and pressed it to the center of my forehead. It sizzled against my skin and burned along the two lines the priest traced with his finger. My fangs sank into my tongue, holding back my agonized scream. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of enjoying my pain.
“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost,” he finished. The guards dropped their hold on my head and it fell back to my chest.
The holy water cross was meant to weaken me, to stop me from fighting when the executioner came out and the real damage was inflicted. On a less powerful vampire, a younger one, it was effective, but I was almost seven hundred years old. I possessed more power than anyone knew, even the vampires who sent me here.
The Sovereign leaders called my capture a small sacrifice, a peace offering to the human race. I called it a punishment, a crime, an injustice.
Static from the Jumbo-Tron played over the speakers. The announcer’s voice boomed through the stadium. The crowd cheered, excited to witness my demise. And they called the vampires monsters.
“This week, two brave VAU agents captured one of the Vampires’ leaders. Delano Melazi.” The crowd booed and hissed their hatred. “He alone is responsible for the Nightclub Massacre.”
I had nothing to do with it, but let them believe what they wanted. I had no quarrel with them, just like a wolf has no quarrel with a sheep.
Once the crowd quieted down the announcer continued. “A tragedy no human will ever forget. You’ve seen the pictures. Over one hundred and thirty humans captured, tortured, torn to pieces.” He paused and stepped closer. I felt the warmth of his flesh and heard the beating of his heart. “This monster locked those doors. This monster slaughtered your friends and family in cold blood. This monster deserves to pay.”
His words worked the already agitated crowd into frenzy. They raised their fists high in the air and yelled for my death.
Just a few moments more, that’s all I needed. Seconds until my power was restored.
The announcer’s fat fingers grabbed my hair, pulled my head back and forced me to look into the camera. “Tonight he will pay. He will suffer. He will die.” His words echoed around the stadium.
No one heard the handcuffs fall to the ground or saw me twist his head or heard his last breath. No one knew anything was wrong until his head slipped from my fingers and his body slid to the ground.
The crowd screamed.
The guards aimed their guns at my heart, pulled the triggers and let the bullets fly in a flurry of silver and speed, but I was swifter, stronger, superior.
Before the first bullet hit the metal pole that had bound me, I was in front of the final guard in line. Ten beating hearts at my feet. Ten gaping holes in their chest. Ten dead bodies on the earth.
I turned to the closest camera, the red lights still blinking, but unmanned. “I am Delano Melazi.” I raised my voice over the commotion. “And I will seek revenge against those who wronged me.”
The first blast of holy water hit me in the shoulder. It knocked me off balance. The second hit me in the face. The cross the priest had drawn on my head merely irritated me, but the onslaught of blessed liquid burned, weakened and crippled me. It ran down my arm, melted the flesh off the bone.
I had one chance to get out alive. With the last remaining bit of strength still hidden deep in my reserves, I vanished. Teleported, a handy trick only I knew I possessed, away from the stadium and the humans, but not the pain.

About the Author:

Jenn Windrow loves characters that have a pinch of spunk, a dash of attitude, and a large dollop of sex appeal. Top it all off with a huge heaping helping of snark, and you’ve got the ingredients for the kind of fast paced stories she loves to read and write. Home is a suburb of it’s-so-hot-my-shoes-have-melted-to-the-pavement Phoenix. Where she lives with her husband, two daughters, and a slew of animals that seem to keep following her home, at least that’s what she claims.

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3 $5.00 Amazon gift cards and copies of the ebook. 

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Fighting for a Chance

Title: Fighting For A Chance
Author: Linda Oaks
Series: The Chasing Series
Genre: New Adult
Publisher: Blue Tulip Publishing

What happens when you fall for the enemy?
It all began with a secret.
A cross of paths that altered a life.
Iris Malone had a plan of revenge. She searched for the man known as “The Savage.”
Chance Logan was one of the most promising heavyweight contenders on the planet. Her plan was simple, to make a savage fall to his knees. She would break his heart like
he’d broken so many countless others before her.
But sometimes even the best laid plans can begin to unravel.
What happens when you fall for the enemy?
When you’re in danger of losing your heart to the man you promised to make suffer?
When lines are crossed, and it’s too late to turn back, you have no choice but to live
with the decisions you make.
Will Iris’s plan for revenge ruin the chance at a love of a lifetime?
Will she fight for a chance to love a savage or will she lose everything when the truth is
finally revealed?
Someone was going down.
Someone would pay.
Do you care to place your bets as to who will be standing at the end of the final round?
**Fighting For A Chance is an Interconnected Standalone in The Chasing Series. Each book features a different couple.**

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Five minutes before closing, she was walking my way. There was a ghost of a smile curving her lips. Come to poppa. “It’s closing time,” she announced, and picked up a glass from the table. “Don’t make me have Chunk throw you out.”

Shit, was she serious? The bouncer throwing me out? My chest started to shake. I threw back my head, laughing. Damn, she was funny. I wasn’t expecting that. “I’d like to see him try. You’re a regular little comedian, aren’t you, Iris?”

“I get by,” she said saucily, and then leaned across the table, reaching for the last glass sitting near my hand. The next thing I knew, my fingers were wrapped around her wrist. It was instinct, to take what I wanted. She was trying to play a game with me, but little did she know I was a pro at this shit. Gasping, she stared wide-eyed back at me. There it was, that reaction I wanted. Awareness.

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Linda Oaks has always had a passion for books. At the age of five, she was a book of the month club member. Her love for books eventually led her to a love of writing. She resides in Eastern Kentucky with her husband, two children, five dogs and a pet rabbit named Dozer. She can be found on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. She can also be reached by email at She loves connecting with her readers.

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Wednesday, October 19, 2016

Excerpt Reveal: The Scars Keeper

The Scars Keeper Banner The Scars Keeper Ebook
Title: The Scars Keeper
Author: Scarlet Wolfe
Genre: YA Romance
Release Date: November 16
My scars are mine alone. They’re the validation of my pain.
The anxiety, anger and sadness I bleed.
My dark secret. A grim, ugly truth.
Most of all, they’re the one thing in my life I control.
It’s inevitable that one day I’ll have to reveal them to someone. What I wasn’t expecting was to share them now with him … with Hayden.

Girls like Avery are all the same. They’re spoiled, superficial blondes who don’t appreciate mommy and daddy’s wealth.
Plastic shells that are empty on the inside.
Or so I thought … but I was wrong.
Avery’s heart is an abyss of emotions. She feels like no one I’ve ever met, wallowing in her insecurities and anguish yet savoring every exciting moment within her reach. I was blindsided by the immense love she was willing to give once she trusted me, and I was left with no choice but to trust her, too, exposing my own pain and scars.
I hate myself for caving in … for loving her. How do you let go of the one person you let in? How do you say goodbye to the girl who trusted you with her body and soul?
I have to leave Avery, and where I’m going, I can’t take her with me. She’s going to believe I built her up only to tear her down, but what she doesn’t realize is unlike her, I can’t change my destiny. I was born into the Knights Union MC, and it’s where I’ll go to die.

happy couple at the beach The Scars Keeper Teaser2

“Stay away from me. I swear I’ll do it!”
He takes slow steps toward me, and the dirt, twigs and pine needles rustle beneath his laced-up boots.
“Don’t come any closer,” I order as he gets within ten feet or so and stops.
“Relief or revenge,” he says.
“What?” My hand trembles, and I feel the pressure of the blade against my skin.
“Death … Will it bring you relief or revenge?”
“Both.” He’s stock-still, staring through me with his black eyes. Paired with his grey shirt and ragged blue jeans, he’s menacing, matching the charcoal clouds threatening to soak us above.
“Do you want to know what you’ll get if you slice your neck open?”
“Peace is what I’ll finally get.”
“No. It’s regret. Good memories will flash in your mind, one after another. The dreams you’d hoped to experience in the future will be next.
“Then, I’ll watch it all pass before your eyes as blood squirts and pours from your carotid artery until it’s bubbling out of your mouth, streaming from the corners and dripping off your jaw. You’ll drown from your crimson life on this cold, wet ground.”
I suck in successive sharp breaths before they burst free inside a resounding cry. I pry open my fingers, dropping the knife to the earth before I fall next and hit that cold, damp ground.
I’m on my side and sobbing, watching Hayden come closer. The rain sporadically falls, and as his dusty black boots stand before my face, clean circles appear on them, the dirt washing away from the pelts of water.
He squats in front of me, and if I wasn’t already terrified of myself, I might be of him. My palm and cheek are pressed to the ground as I tilt my eyes up and stare into his.
Thin lips are parted, and jet-colored hair that reaches just shy of his chin is draped around his face.
He grabs the knife, twists his torso, and launches the shiny blade straight at a tree, sticking it as if he’s done it a thousand times.
Moving upright, he steps one foot over to straddle my body, and I gasp. He shoves an arm between my side and the ground before he scoops me up into his arms. Mine circle his neck snugly.
I’m panting for air between my cries, wrestling with confusion over two stark emotions. Anguish that my internal pain didn’t end, and relief that he saved me.

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About the Author 
Scarlet Wolfe began writing in January of 2013 as a way to distract and heal from some of the grief she was dealing with after the death of her teenage son.
She instantly fell in love with bringing characters to life. Releasing contemporary romance throughout 2013, she branched out in 2014, adding erotica and teen. In 2015, her first romantic mystery/suspense, The Cassano Series, came to fruition.
When not writing, Scarlet enjoys her time with family and friends and has an addiction to Pinterest. She loves bacon, coffee, stories about possessive, hot alpha males, and other flavors of ice cream besides vanilla. ;)
She hopes her writing will encourage readers to explore their sexuality.

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