Marin was a cursed merman. Where he once walked the streets of Atlantis—where he found his true love—he now swam, alone. Until he was offered a way out: out of his curse and into the heart of another. But would he be able to love another as he did his true love?
Marley was a loner, a treasure hunter with wild theories about Atlantis who fantasized about mermen. He’d always felt a little out of place, always searching for something, and wanting nothing more than to belong to someone completely.
Between them lay several lifetimes and a wicked sorceress bent on possession. Is a soul deep connection enough to bring them together and to break a curse that was meant to never be broken?
“Marin? Do you believe in fate? In reincarnation?”
“Past lives. The soul living beyond the death of one body into another.”
“Ah, yes. Transmigration. As it so happens, I do. Why do you ask?”
Marley sighed, flexing his fingers ever so slightly. Just enough to barely touch Marin’s. “I think I may have known you then. From before.”
“I think so too, Marley.” Marin held his breath momentarily before he continued. This was the time. This was it. “Aeëtes, his eyes—although everyone in his family had eyes of as dark as the night sky, my Aeëtes’s eyes were a striking blue. As blue as the Aegean Sea or a sky on a clear winter’s day. With one exception. His right eye was two colors. Partly the beautiful blue, but like a wave lapping the shore, the blue met with a golden brown.”
Marley’s breath caught as Marin described eyes that were identical to his own. Even down to how his parents’ eyes were of a drastically different color. No one could ever explain why there was such a difference; they just accepted it as part of who Marley was. “Like mine.” It was barely a whisper, but enough for Marin to hear.
Deidre Meyrick is a lover of happy endings, and believes in taking advantage of the good in any moment. She’s a glass half full kind of optimist with a dash of realism and hedonism thrown in, and maybe a splash of rum for good measure. We only live once, right? She’s lived in several states but calls the Florida coast home, where on any given day you may find her sitting on the beach with her toes in the sand and a notebook in her hand.
They fight to protect those who would never welcome them into the human world…
Petúr always knew he and his brothers-in-arms were different. Something more. Something not human. Yet, he never expected to find out the truth of their origins, nor fall for a human woman whose father was set to destroy Neverland.
Ever since she was a child, Wyndi dreamed of an angel with eyes of the purest gold, although she never really believed such a man existed until she met the hauntingly beautiful Petúr of the lost boys.
With a prophecy to fulfill, a woman to protect, a portal to find, and evil darklings out for blood, will Petúr be strong enough to rise up and claim what’s rightfully his, or lose everything to a long-time nemesis, Grapple the Dark?
Her long lashes fluttered, causing spiky shadows to stipple the tops of her cheeks. “I forgot my laptop. I need to get it from my office,” she said. “That’s where I was going when I got mugged.”
“Here you go,” said Dash. He’d gathered up the woman’s things and tucked them back into her purse. “I don’t think he got anything.” He handed the tan bag over to her. “I think we interrupted the mugger. Petúr tried to catch him, but he got away.”
“Thank you,” she said, taking her scuffed-up purse.
“It’s a good thing we were walking past this alley,” said Vibe. “We heard you scream and—”
“Yes,” she said in a robotic voice, nodding. “You scared off the mugger.” She was looking at Petúr in that unseeing, vacant way, the pupils in her eyes large and pulsing.
He inclined his head. “Here,” he said. “Let me help you up.” He gave her his hand. She took hold, and he couldn’t stop himself from noticing the petal softness of her skin. After she was steady on her feet, he thought to introduce himself. No need to be uncivilized. “I’m Petúr.” He pointed to his right. “That’s Vibe.” Vibe gave her a two finger salute. Petúr tilted his head to his left. “And that’s Dash.”
“I’m Wyndi,” she said, her voice becoming less animated. “Wyndi Darlingheart.”
“Of Darlingheart Incorporated?” Petúr asked.
She brushed a few strands of hair from her face. “In a roundabout way.”
What did that mean?
“Roundabout?” Dash asked the question he himself was dying to know.
She glanced at Dash and kept her gaze trained on him for a long moment. A too long moment. Something hot and possessive twisted in Petúr’s gut. He wanted to reach out and turn her pointed little chin back in his direction, away from the other warrior.
“Cromwell Darlingheart is my father,” she said.
That piece of information got the muscle in Petúr’s jaw to working and quickly stamped out the unusual possessiveness he’d been experiencing.
“Father?” he asked, needing the confirmation one more time.
She nodded and looked up. Her sky-blue gaze went to his mouth then flitted up to his eyes, locking with him. She gasped.
The woman welded her beautiful eyes shut and muttered, “Nothing.”
Could she be afraid of him? No. He didn’t think it was fear he saw swimming in the depths of those liquid blue pools. More like realization of him, mixed with feminine lust.
His golden gaze meandered over her, catching on her cleavage a moment, before moving on to the shape of her hips. Curvaceous. He cleared his throat. Her long lashes fluttered open. Unable to help himself, he was staring at her spectacular face once again. She worked her bottom lip over with her teeth.
She was an oddly captivating, deliciously sweet smelling, eye sparkling female with a mouth he wanted to taste.Taste? Really? He mulled that over for a moment. Yes. He wanted… No. What he was experiencing was more than mere want. He needed to taste her. All of her, he realized taken aback.
He’d been with numerous women before in a quick, rough coupling just to satisfy his animalistic desires, however he was having thoughts he’d never had. Animalistic, yes, but….
He studied her, the arch of her brows, the way strands of her hair framed her face. How delicate she was compared to him. Wyndi Darlinghart. He allowed her name—the daughter of the rich scum-sucking asshole who’d purchased Neverland, intent on clearing the land, as well as him and the lost boys out of their home—to simmer.
Her sweet cotton candy scent assaulted his nose once more. His dick stirred beneath the leather of his D-ring jeans. Would she melt in his mouth like the candy would? His brow furrowed. What was wrong with him? He took in another deep breath, allowing her bouquet to linger. Maybe the ache would go away if he just tasted those full lips. No. He shook his head in an attempt to shake away the urge.
Seconds ticked by. Damn it. He couldn’t shake off what he was feeling. His eyes narrowed. Of all the women in the world, why did it have to be this woman he seriously wanted to thoroughly enjoy in a slow, lingering manner?
Because fate is a cruel bitch. That’s why.
“She’s a Darlingheart,” he heard Vibe say.
No. Not say, but project inside his head.
“Right,” he mumbled, but when Wyndi’s eyelids fluttered open, and she locked gazes with him once more, all the hardened steel he’d erected around himself, as well his common sense, fell away.
Crazy though it might well be, Petúr found himself, for the first time in his long life, wishing for more. More time with her. He wanted to talk, and touch, and kiss. Shit. He wanted to kiss her so bad he physically hurt.
He broke the eye contact this time, and turned away. Who was he kidding? He might want more than fast, anonymous, no strings attached sex, but he wasn’t a choirboy either. For what he had in mind, there would be strings. Maybe even ropes.
“We’ll walk you to your office,” Petúr said, unwilling to let her out of his sight, as he tried to tell himself the over-protectiveness was necessary, even though darklings never attacked the same person twice.
“Um…” Wyndi muttered.
He watched her out of the corner of his eye. “That’s where you said you were headed, right?”
“Yes.” She straightened her shoulders and took the lead.
Petúr homed in on the sway of those hips as she walked in front of him. Oh yeah. He might want more. More than he’d ever given or received from any other woman, yet he also wanted to strip this little human, go to his knees, and map her feminine folds with his mouth, listening to her call out his name in a breathy entreaty as he tasted her pleasure upon his tongue.
London Saint James has lived in many places, but never felt “at home” until she met the real-life man of her dreams and settled down in the beautiful Smoky Mountains of Tennessee. London lives with her husband and their fat cat who thinks he owns them.
As an award-winning, bestselling, multi-published author, London is living her childhood dream. She knew all the scribbling she did, that big imagination of hers, and all those clamoring characters running around in her head would pay off someday.
How is Sinclair coping in a ménage with Ash and Craig? And is Candy’s reunification with Reece all that she hoped for?
Craig and Ash can’t believe their luck now they have Sinclair in their lives—and their bed—full time, but her career choice worries them sick and if they have their way she’ll find something safer. Except they’ve under estimated their woman.
Reece knows Candy loves him, but is he enough for the confident, self-possessed socialite? Does she want a threesome like her friend Sinclair? He’ll show her he’s man enough, not that Candy ever doubted it.
Lia Risso walked in on her fiancé and three other women on Valentine’s Day. Two celibate years later, her roommate creates a profile for Lia on a dating website—without her knowledge—and sets up a date. On Valentine’s Day.
Ryan Walsh, a self-made millionaire and libertine, refuses to commit to any one woman. Tossed from foster home to foster home as a child, Ryan is on guard against becoming vulnerable ever again.
One dinner…one night of dancing and flirting with the attraction between them, puts both Lia and Ryan in danger of heart break.
They have a choice—open themselves to the possibility of hurt or walk away, never knowing what might have been.
My nerve endings stirred as the subtle scent of sandalwood wafted across the table time and again. What man used sandalwood-scented soap anymore? By the cut of his suit and the Rolex on his wrist, Ryan Walsh had money. And plenty of it. Why no expensive cologne? The chick-lure nectar of the gods his type bathed in?
He grinned again, and heat filled the empty place only Mr. Pink had seen or stroked in two years. Ryan’s attention drifted to my lips and lingered as our waiter took his time pouring our wine.
I forced myself to breathe as my treasonous nipples pebbled, begging for attention.
Damnation. I do not want this.
He was too friggin’ sexy for his own good. And by his suggestive grin and the twinkle in his eyes, he knew it too.
“Are you ready to order, Lia?” Ryan asked, his focus staying on my face instead of dipping downward like most men’s did.
Praying my voice didn’t betray my arousal, I turned my attention the waiter. “I’ll have the shrimp Fra Diavlo.”
“And for you, sir?”
Ryan spouted off a few words in Italian, never once breaking eye contact with me.
My lips twitched. Papa would be impressed.
When the waiter ambled away, a smile—a real smile, not the cocky, you-know-you-want-me ones he had offered until then—revealed straight, white teeth. “So.”
His low voice caressed my ears, and I pressed my thighs together. Thank God I hadn’t shaved. No doubt he had little trouble getting women into his bed. Or their bed. Or against a wall.
About Lynn Burke:
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.
Her current work, the Risso Family Novellas, revolves around four siblings from Boston’s North End.
Hello Iyana! Thank you for having me over for a visit to share my new release, I Kissed a Girl in Vegas.
Sexy destinations are the perfect backdrop for a romantic story. My last two books, Bella Key and Little Black Dress, were set in Key West and Paris. I loved using the uniqueness of the settings to drive the story forward. For example, Maddie starts her journey to self-discovery at a cute B&B on Bella Key owned by Sunny when she stops for directions. Giselle teaches Jamie to speak French during visits to a sidewalk café in Paris in Little Black Dress.
Las Vegas is the backdrop of the first book in my new series, I Kissed a Girl. It’s the perfect setting for Tessa Walker to fulfill her secret fantasy. Want a peek? Here’s the opening of I Kissed a Girl in Vegas…
I kissed a girl.
My arrow doesn’t point straight like a stick of uncooked spaghetti. Nope. It curves in beautiful shapes and colors, like strokes of paint on an artist’s canvas. Let’s face it, you can’t always choose what turns you on. I know because I’ve tried, damn it.
Take Nathan, for example. He was the textbook perfect catch. Good job, great dresser, polite, and hey, he seemed to like me a lot. My friends were already fighting over the maid of honor position in our wedding because on the surface we were the perfect couple. And we were…except in bed. It wasn’t as though I didn’t give it the old college try, either. Shit, I deserved an Academy Award for the act I put on during sex with Nathan. My moans, fingernail digs, passionate kisses, deep breaths and even a few name screams, were as much for my own benefit as his.
You see, I wanted to love Nathan. I wanted to love sex with Nathan. I wanted to meet my girlfriends for drinks and share my own earth shattering orgasm stories. After all, I’ve heard more of their stories than I care to remember. Sadly, the only breath-catching Os going on in my apartment happened solo when my arrow was free to bend in a different direction, to a fantasy I never dared to share. The fantasy where…well, why don’t I start at the beginning…when I kissed a girl.
For more of Tessa’s fantasy, including a hot under the table restaurant scene, check out I Kissed a Girl in Vegas. There’s kissing in it. xoxo
I Kissed a Girl in Vegas (I Kissed a Girl, 1) by Scarlet Chastain
Tessa Walker’s business trip takes her to one of the poshest hotels on the Vegas Strip. Nursing a break-up, she can use of weekend of fun and sun. Little does she know, her pool cabana mate is none other than famous chef and restaurateur, Gianna Lucini, who introduces her to the world of great food and forbidden passion.
Life as a jet-set chef isn’t all it’s cracked up to be for Gianna. Like her restaurants, she insists on control in the bedroom and her tastes run anything but plain vanilla. She’s ready to give up on love until Tessa serves up an offer Gianna can’t turn down.
“Mark has another talent you’re sure to enjoy. I’m going to take over for him so he can show you. Just keep an open mind and let yourself go, Tessa.” Her slow words mesmerized me as her strong fingers took over and Mark let go. Her hands were small and soft in comparison to his. Gianna’s fingers traveled across my shoulder blades, loosening tight muscles along the way. I grabbed the edge of the table and slid my chair back a few inches. “Relax,” Gianna whispered. Mark moved to my side and casually leaned against the table. He picked up my hand and rubbed small circles around the sensitive area where my thumb met my palm.
“You have a hard time letting go. Don’t you, Tessa?” he asked.
I took a deep breath and reached for my glass of wine, hoping it’d provide much needed liquid courage. Mark grabbed my other hand before it could capture the wineglass.
“You don’t need that to relax. Let me help you.” His graveled voice rumbled its way through my body and stoked the heat settling low in my belly.
My chair suddenly moved out further and he stepped between my knees, facing me. His gaze moved from me to above my head where Gianna stood. She continued her ministrations on my tight muscles. Mark smiled and his gaze moved back to me. His fingers rubbed the inside of my palm in unison with Gianna’s hands at my shoulders. I’d never had two people touching me in this way before. Every cell of my body stood at attention. Like the rhythm of a gentle ocean, their hypnotic caresses washed away any lingering insecurity.
Waves of pleasure coursed through my body in the secluded room smack in the middle of one of the busiest hotels in Vegas. I should’ve been embarrassed by the attention. I should’ve got up and walked away. Things like that don’t happen to me. However, my ass might as well have been crazy-glued to the chair, because I wasn’t moving. The tablecloth brushed over my bare legs as Mark let go of one of my hands and his fingers brushed my thigh. He lowered his muscled body to his knees as Gianna gathered my hair into a ponytail. Her fingers raked through my scalp while Mark’s fingers drew imaginary lines from my knee to high on the inside of my thigh and back again. I swallowed hard as my pulse quickened. I was sure Gianna could see how fast my heart was beating when she pulled my hair and coaxed my face upward to meet her stare.
She smiled down at me. “I want you to clear your mind and just enjoy the moment. Can you do that for me?”
I nodded and closed my eyes. A flash of pain gripped my scalp as Gianna tightened her hold on my hair. My eyelids flew open and I met her crystal-blue gaze that was the color of a Caribbean ocean.
“Be here with me, Tessa. Don’t escape into yourself. I want your eyes on me, or Mark. Believe me, it will make the experience incredible.”
I nodded again and she loosened the grip she had on my hair. Mark’s tongue had replaced his fingers and he left a warm, wet trail on the inside of my thigh. He released my other hand and both of his hands were making their way up the tops of my thighs and under my short skirt.
Gazing at me, his eyes burned hot and he shot me a grin. “Lift up a little, sweetheart.”
I did as he asked and my lacy underwear was quickly swept from me, losing my shoes in the process. His palms cupped my knees, nudging them farther apart. A wave of insecurity washed over me as his gaze shifted to my sex.
“Remember what I said. Relax and enjoy.” Gianna’s voice filled my ear.
Rhys was tempted to join Rafael in the shower, but he couldn’t make himself move from the bed, as weak as he was from his orgasm. He lay still, catching his breath, with a happy smile on his face. Who would have thought the initial disaster his trip had been would turn out like this?
Rafael emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, his dark skin glistening with droplets of water which he hadn’t bothered to dry off. Rhys stared unashamedly as a tiny rivulet formed in the middle of Rafael’s chest and traveled quickly down his torso, eventually disappearing into his bush of black pubic hair. Rhys unconsciously licked his lips and Rafael laughed.
“You look like you want me for breakfast.”
“I want a photograph of you,” Rhys blurted. “If that’s okay.”
“So you can remember me? Sure. You want it like this?” Rafael winked and stood still in the middle of the room.
“Hmm…yeah.” Rhys rolled to the side of the bed and picked up Rafael’s phone from the top of the cabinet. He opened the camera function and took three shots of Rafael; one close up of his face and two of his whole body, wet and sexy and beautiful. Rafael dried his hands and took the phone from Rhys.
“Oh, no, Rafael, I’m not very photogenic,” Rhys protested. He felt his face flush.
“Not very…?” Rafael’s brow wrinkled into a puzzled frown. “You are very hot. I want a picture to remember. You have three.”
“Okay, then. If you insist.” Rhys fiddled with his hair, hoping it wasn’t too messy from sleeping and fucking. Then he arranged himself on one side, his head propped up on his hand. “Go on, then, I’m ready.”
Rafael took a single picture and Rhys reminded himself to email the photos of the Brazilian to himself later. Then he took his turn in the shower while Rafael got dressed.
About the author
Louise Lyons comes from a family of writers. Her mother has a number of poems published in poetry anthologies, her aunt wrote poems for the Church, and her grandmother sparked her inspiration with tales of fantasy. Louise first ventured into writing short stories at the grand old age of eight, mostly about little girls and ponies. She branched into romance in her teens, and MM romance a few years later, but none of her work saw the light of day until she discovered Fan Fiction in her late twenties.
Posting stories based on some of her favorite movies, provoked a surprisingly positive response from readers. This gave Louise the confidence to submit some of her work to publishers, and made her take her writing “hobby” more seriously.
Louise lives in the UK, about an hour north of London, with a mad Dobermann, and a collection of tropical fish and tarantulas. She works in the insurance industry by day, and spends every spare minute writing. She is a keen horse-rider, and loves to run long distance. Some of her best writing inspiration comes to her, when her feet are pounding the open road. She often races into the house afterward, and grabs pen and paper to make notes.
Louise has always been a bit of a tomboy, and one of her other great loves is cars and motorcycles. Her car and bike are her pride and joy, and she loves to exhibit the car at shows, and take off for long days out on the bike, with no one for company but herself.
Life on Earth ended as Callie O’Doyle knew it six months earlier when aliens invaded much of the planet, including the quiet harbor town where she lives. As she walks home late one night from work, she comes face to face with an alien in a spacecraft who injects something into her arm. When she wakes, she’s no longer on Earth, and the male alien has brought her to his home.
Although Jakara is physically appealing and doesn’t mistreat her, it’s also clear he’s taken her prisoner, and he gives her no choice but to submit. The longer Callie gives her body to this mysterious man, the more quickly her heart follows.
But as their feelings for each other grow, so does the danger they’re in. Jakara broke all the rules when he took Callie for his own, and if she’s found, it will mean their death.
Callie’s entire body trembled. She could hardly be called experienced in bed, but she wasn’t a virgin. What harm could this do? She couldn’t deny her attraction to him. But what would happen afterward? Would he go back on his word and send her to the other men to be used as a sex toy?
Jakara moved closer still, and now she caught his scent. It was nothing she could identify, but it ramped up her arousal until she could hardly stand still. Every fiber of her being ached to touch him. When he cupped her face with two strong hands, she couldn’t stop the moan.
“You want me. Admit it. I want to hear you say it.”
“I want you,” she whispered.
“You have nothing to fear from me. I can’t impregnate you, and we’re immune to your diseases.”
“Okay.” She couldn’t even process what he’d just said. It didn’t matter. All she wanted was that full mouth on hers.
He gazed into her eyes for a few seconds, and she had no clue what he’d done to her, but her body relaxed a bit. Then he bent his head and kissed her. Callie would have fallen if he hadn’t encircled her in strong arms. She parted her lips to let his tongue inside, and moaned loudly in the back of her throat as his teeth and tongue assaulted her mouth.
The eternal question of how aliens kissed was finally answered. They kissed like nothing she’d ever experienced or imagined during long, lonely nights. She wrapped her arms around his torso, barely able to reach around him. His body was tight and warm against hers, and as he stepped closer still she felt the unmistakable bulge of a huge cock brush her abdomen.
He tangled his fingers in her hair and moved his lips and tongue over hers. Callie groaned deeply as crazy desire swept through her. Her pussy was soaked, and her clit throbbed. She was going to come and all he’d done was kiss her.
When he released her, his eyes were darker than they’d been earlier, and it was obvious he was trying to control his raging lust. He picked her up as if she weighed no more than a feather, and dumped her unceremoniously on the bed. As he shed his clothing, she sat up and stared at him with her mouth open. He looked human in every way, but the muscles and tats covering his body were nothing she’d ever seen. He was beyond beautiful.
And his dick … red, swollen, and already dripping with pre-cum. She licked her lips, unable to tear her gaze away.
“Impressive, isn’t it?”
She nodded because her voice seemed to have disappeared.