Insatiable by Lauren Dane
4.5 luvs /5 luvs for hotness

This is the 3rd book in the Federation corps series having read the first 2 before this I loved the continuing story, it can also be read as a stand-alone...I have to say they just get better and better, I liked that even though Carina was a princess she held her own..strong but smart..and Daniel Wow;) Lets just say another on my book boyfriends list...Lauren Dane makes you feel as though you know these people, like your pulled into the plot with them and i like that, another that i am passing along to my bff's.along with a fan...evil grin..and a note to their husbands to prepare hehe!!!You definitely should read this series


Excerpt



Four days after they’d finally left Philos safely, they were no closer to Federation territory. He’d had to put them on super-slow and off the basic path transports, crisscrossing back and forth to keep from attracting too much attention. It was tedious progress; he itched to get her back, to be assured she was safe. He had to run like hells before he did something monumentally stupid like fucking her.

Carina Fardelle and her big, sexy eyes, her constant questions and the way she was strong and so fragile all at once. She’d relentlessly thrust herself into his space whenever she could. He realized she’d begun to understand her effect on him, but there were times when she charmed him. Some little thing she’d do or say would leave him disarmed and pleased all at once.

She looked beautiful. Even as she was supposed to be some riffraff, ranging around looking for work, she looked gorgeous doing it.

Damn it. She’d trimmed her hair this time. But whatever she’d done had left it curly instead of straight. It took all his strength not to touch it.

Instead, he worked on keeping his gaze sharp for their contacts and pretended she didn’t make him want to stop and sniff her like a lovesick fool. That level of concentration kept his mind actively engaged on keeping them out of trouble and not on the way she’d brushed against him earlier that morning, trying to tiptoe up and kiss him. And especially not thinking about how close he came to letting her.

He bit back a groan and redoubled his efforts to be on the lookout for trouble.

They’d arrived in Frontera and had easily made it through the checkpoint. They’d heard a rumor that the troops had been diverted to another transport that was set to arrive shortly after theirs had. He hoped that luck would continue to be with them.

Rife with thugs, the criminal element of the portal city in Frontera had been the reason many transports refused to stop for fear of losing cargo. Since his cargo was feminine, on the run from a monster and beautiful, he would have to kill anyone who thought of stealing her.

“You need to stick closer to me,” he said but realized he’d sort of growled it. Infuriatingly, she turned and smiled his way, that knowing feminine smile, and he wondered where she’d gotten that from.Did virgins have that look yet? He made a mistake with her, he realized, in making an incorrect assumption that having her maidenhead in place meant she was naïve about sex. She was not. He needed to remember that.

Better yet, he didn’t need to remember it at all. He didn’t need to think about it in any way.

She’d begun to lose some of her fear, growing bolder in many ways. She settled into herself in some way, taking up being Carina with a sort of wholehearted enthusiasm. Though annoying at times, she was generally a pleasure to be around, even when he didn’t need to be thinking about any of this at all.

“I’m within reach, Neil. You know I’m always happy to have you touch me.” She broke into his thoughts. “Where is our conveyance?”

She put her hand through his arm. Instead of telling everyone she was his sister as instructed, she’d told people they were married and had taken every opportunity to touch him and act like a wife.

In short, he was nearly insane with wanting her, and she had no intention of letting him forget it. His mother had a word for what Carina was becoming with him—saucy.

“Don’t start with me, woman.” He tried to be light with her, but something wasn’t right. He didn’t like the feel of the streets here. He felt far too exposed and wanted to get her away and safe. “Perhaps we should get back to the guesthouse. I can come out later to see if they’ve arrived.” He steered her away from a group of undesirables who’d just materialized and most likely were the source of his agitation.

He sent them a look over his shoulder as he escorted her back around the edge of the marketplace and toward the guesthouse they
were staying in.

“It’s getting rather warm out here anyway.” She continued to hold his arm as they walked, and he continued to like it, even though he knew how stupid it was when he could not have her.

He tensed up, keeping a watch on three men who’d walked from an alleyway just ahead. The group he’d avoided a few streets over.

Four more appeared, followed by one last man, and they all headed straight for them. Sound died away as the street emptied. At least he could get rid of some of his pent-up energy with a fight. Daniel felt a moment of pity for these probably illiterate morons who chose the wrong mark.

“They’re coming for us,” she murmured.

“Stay behind me. Use that weapon if you have to; don’t you dare hesitate.” He stepped ahead, putting her behind him.

“Looks like you two are a bit heavy with gear.” A mouth filled with few teeth made an ugly gash of delight on the thug’s face.

Daniel knew the look in the man’s eyes, knew they meant to rob him and harm Carina. Neither would be allowed.

He rolled his head on his shoulders, steadying for what was to come. “You should heed my warning and keep moving. You’re not going to be pleased with the outcome if you bring a fight my way.” Daniel didn’t speak very loudly, but the one in charge heard just fine.

Whether or not he took the warning was something else entirely.

The snick and gleam of a blade triggered Daniel’s sense of calm.

His body relaxed as he focused. White noise rushed through his ears as a blade handle fit into his palm.

“Look here, boys, he thinks he can take us all on.”

Daniel sighed and began to move. Nothing he did when he fought ever took conscious thought; his body, his refl exes simply took over and did the job. A step forward, a lunge with one arm and a step back.

One of the men hit the pavement, blood spilling from a nonlethal but debilitating slice. The scent of copper hit the air, spicing up the stench of open-pit sewers and garbage.

“Well now, looks like I was right to think I could take you all.” He tipped his chin at the groaning, semiconscious man bleeding at his feet. “There’s one less now. The odds keep getting better.”

It was wrong, she knew, very very wrong of her to be excited and titillated by the way Daniel carried himself just then. Even worse to have her heart speed when with two movements so fast and smooth she barely noticed, there was pain, blood and debilitating injury.

She didn’t care. He was masterful, and it moved her. He protected her because it was his job, yes. But at the same time, she knew it was more for him. Whatever that meant, she wasn’t sure. But being protected by such a scary, fierce man was so sexy she couldn’t find it within herself to feel guilty about it.

“You think you’re smart? Pulling that?” The other man—the one who could have used a bar of soap and some water, the sour stink of his body wafted to her, roiling her stomach as she began to breathe through her mouth—jerked his head, and the others rushed toward her and Daniel.

The intensity of the event brought her images, sounds, scents, but no real concrete impression of anything specific.

Daniel’s hair gleamed as he moved with such a grace of economy she could do little more than stare. Small movements sent men falling to the side, blood darkening clothing and the dirt beneath their feet.

Her own blade rested in her hand, at the ready if anyone got past Daniel, which appeared to be an impossibility as body after body slumped. She watched, not really alarmed, as two men flanked Daniel and one rushed past him to her.

All the years of training came back to her, and she rested her weight on her heels, slicing out and up as she blocked the blow. Or thought she did until Daniel, grim-faced and satisfied, turned with a savage grin.

“You did a fine job. Now let’s get off the street before the authorities arrive.” He reached for her and stopped, grabbing her tunic, pushing it aside to reveal her torso and a bleeding slit in her skin. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He paled, picking her up over her protests, striding back to the safe house without another word.

Demonfire by Kate Douglas
4 luvs/4 hotness

This is another series I am now hooked on it was easy to follow..even introducing a new world/arena whatever you want to call it didn't get lost in the details which i love and thats not easy to do for most writers...loved the strength of the heroine and the little bit of insecurity of the hero..Dax became one of my book boyfriends easily, and totally fell for Alton (next book hero) can't wait for that one...to be a paranormal romance it had plenty of hotness (which i like...but I love Kate Douglas's Wolf Tales anyway...(fans myself)...lets just say hot!!!this series definitely goes on my pre-order list...Am highly recommending this one


Excerpt:

©2009 Kate Douglas




Book I: DemonFire

Chapter 1

Sunday Night
He struggled out of the darkness, confused, disoriented... recalling fire and pain and the soothing voices of men he couldn't see. Voices promising everlasting life, a chance to move beyond hell, beyond all he'd ever known. He remembered his final, fateful decision to take a chance, to search for something else.
For life beyond the hell that was Abyss.
A search that brought him full-circle, back to a world of pain-to this world, wherever it might be. He frowned and tried to focus. This body was unfamiliar, the skin unprotected by scales or bone. He'd never been so helpless, so vulnerable.
His chest burned. The demon's fireshot, while not immediately fatal, would have deadly consequences. Hot blood flowed sluggishly from wounds across his ribs and spread over the filthy stone floor beneath his naked hip. The burn on his chest felt as if it were filled with acid. Struggling for each breath, he raised his head and stared into the glaring yellow eyes of an impossible creature holding him at bay.
Four sharp spears affixed to a long pole were aimed directly at his chest. The thing had already stabbed him once, and the bleeding holes in his side hurt like the blazes. With a heartfelt groan, Dax tried to rise, but he had no strength left.
He fell back against the cold stones and his world faded once more to black.

“You're effing kidding me! I leave for one frickin' weekend and all hell breaks loose. You're positive? Old Mrs. Abernathy really thinks it ate her cat?” Eddy Marks took another sip of her iced caffé mocha whip and stared at Ginny. “Lord, I hope my father hasn't heard about it. He'll blame it on the Lemurians.”
Ginny laughed so hard she almost snorted her latte. “Your dad's not still hung up on that silly legend, is he? Like there's really an advanced society of humanoids living inside Mount Shasta? I don't think so.”
“Don't try and tell Dad they don't exist. He's convinced he actually saw one of their golden castles in the moonlight. Of course, it was gone by morning.” Eddy frowned at Ginny and changed the subject. She was admittedly touchy about her dad's gullible nature. “Mrs. Abernathy's not serious, is she?”
“I dunno.” Ginny shook her head. “She was really upset. Enough that she called nine-one-one. I was on dispatch at Shascom that shift and took the call. They sent an officer out because she was hysterical, not because they actually believed Mr. Pollard's ceramic garden gnome ate Twinkles.” Ginny ran her finger around the inside of her cup, chasing the last drops of her iced latte. “I heard there was an awful lot of blood on her back deck, along with tufts of suspiciously Twinkles-colored hair.”
“Probably a coyote or a fox.” Eddy finished the last of her drink and wished she'd had a shot of brandy to add to it. It would have been the perfect finish to the first brief vacation she'd had in months-two glorious days hiking and camping on Mount Shasta with only her dog for company...and not a single killer garden gnome in sight. She grinned at Ginny. “Killer gnomes aren't usually a major threat around here.”
Ginny laughed. “Generally, no. Lemurians either, in spite of what your dad and half the tourists think, but for once Eddy, don't be such a stick in the mud. Let your imagination go a little.”
“What? And start spouting off about Lemurians? I don't think so. Someone has to be the grown-up! So what else happened while I was out communing with nature?”
“Well...it might have been the full moon, but there was a report that the one remaining stone gargoyle launched itself off the northwest corner of the old library building, circled the downtown area and flew away into the night. And...” Ginny paused dramatically, “...another that the bronze statue of General Humphreys and his horse trotted out of the park. The statue is gone. I didn't check on the gargoyle, but I went down to see the statue. It's not there. Looks like it walked right off the pedestal. That thing weighs over two tons.” She set her empty cup down, folded her arms and, with one dark eyebrow raised, stared at Eddy.
“A big bronze statue like that would bring in a pretty penny at the recyclers. Somebody probably hauled it off with a truck, but it's a great visual, isn't it?” Eddy leaned back in her chair. “I can just see that big horse with the general, sword held high and covered in pigeon poop, trotting along Front Street. Maybe a little detour through the cemetery.”
“Is it worth a story by ace reporter Edwina Marks?”
Eddy glared at her. “Do not call me Edwina.” She ran her finger through the condensation on the scarred wooden table top before looking up at Ginny and grinning. “Maybe a column about weird rumors and how they get started. I'll cite you as Ground Zero, but I doubt it's cutting edge enough for the front page of the Record.”
Ginny grabbed her purse and pulled out a lipstick. “Yeah, like that rag's going to cover real news?”
“Hey, we do our best and we stay away from the tabloid stuff...you know, the garbage you like to read?” Laughing, Eddy stood up. “Well, I'm always complaining that nothing exciting ever happens around here. I guess flying gargoyles, runaway statues and killer gnomes are better than nothing.” She tossed some change on the table for a tip and waved at the girl working behind the counter. “Gotta go, Gin. I need to get home. Have to let Bumper out.”
“Bumper? Who's that? Don't tell me you brought home another homeless mutt from the shelter.”
“And if I did?”
Ginny waved the lipstick at her like a pointer. “Eddy, the last time you had to give up a fostered pup, you bawled for a week. Why do you do this to yourself?”
She'd be lucky if she only bawled for a week when it was time for Bumper to leave. They'd bonded almost immediately, but she really didn't want a dog. Not for keeps. “They were gonna put her down if no one took her,” she mumbled.
Ginny shook her head. “Don't say I didn't warn you. One of these days you're going to take in a stray that'll really break your heart.”

Eddy heard Bumper when she was still half a block from home. She'd only left the dog inside the house while she went to town for coffee, but it appeared the walls weren't thick enough to mute her deep-throated growling and barking.
Thank goodness it wasn't nine yet. Any later and she'd probably have one of the neighbors filing a complaint. Eddy picked up her pace and ran the last hundred yards home, digging for her house keys as she raced up the front walk. “Bumper, you idiot. I only left you for an hour. I hope you haven't been going on like this the whole time I've been gone.”
She got the key in the lock and swung the front door open. Bumper didn't even pause to greet her. Instead, she practically knocked Eddy on her butt as she raced out the front door, skidded through the open gate to the side yard and disappeared around the back of the house.
“Shit. Stupid dog.” Eddy threw her keys in her bag, slung her purse over her shoulder and took off after the dog. It was almost completely dark away from the street light and Eddy stumbled on one of the uneven paving stones by the gate. Bumper's deep bark turned absolutely frantic, accompanied by the added racket from her clawing and scratching at the wooden door to Eddy's potting shed.
“If you've got a skunk cornered in there, you stupid dog, I swear I'm taking you back to the shelter.”
Bumper stopped barking, now that she knew she had Eddy's attention. She whined and sniffed at the door, still scratching at the rough wood. Eddy fumbled in her bag for her keychain and the miniature flashlight hanging from the ring. The beam was next to worthless, but better than nothing.
She scooted Bumper out of the way with her leg and unlatched the door just enough to peer in through a crack. Bumper whapped her nose against Eddy's leg. Shoving frantically with her broad head, she tried to force her way inside.
“Get back.” Eddy glared at the dog. Bumper flattened her ears against her curly head and immediately backed off, looking as pathetic as she had last week at the shelter when Eddy'd realized she couldn't leave a blond pit bull crossed with a standard poodle to the whims of fate.
She aimed her tiny flashlight through the narrow opening. Blinked. Told herself she was really glad she'd been drinking coffee and not that brandy she'd wanted tonight, because otherwise she wouldn't believe what she saw.
Maybe Mrs. Abernathy wasn't nuts after all. Eddy grabbed a shovel leaning against the outside wall of the shed and threw the door open wide.
The garden gnome that should have been stationed in the rose garden out in front held a pitchfork in its stubby little hands like a weapon, ready to stab what appeared to be a person lying in the shadows. When the door creaked open, the gnome turned its head, glared at Eddy through yellow eyes, bared unbelievably sharp teeth, and screamed at her like an avenging banshee.
Bumper's claws scrabbled against the stone pathway. Eddy swung the shovel. The crunch of metal connecting with ceramic seemed unnaturally loud. The scream stopped as the garden gnome shattered into a thousand pieces. The pitchfork clattered to the ground and a dark, evil smelling mist gathered in the air above the pile of dust. It swirled a moment and then suddenly whooshed over Eddy's shoulder and out the open door.
A tiny blue light pulsed and flickered, followed the mist as far as the doorway, and then returned to hover over the figure in the shadows. Bumper paused long enough to sniff the remnants of the garden gnome and growl, before turning her attention to whatever lay on the stone floor. Eddy stared at the shovel in her hands and took one deep breath after another. This was not happening. She had not seen a garden gnome in attack mode.
One with glowing yellow eyes and razor-sharp teeth.
Impossible.
Heart pounding, arms and legs shaking, she slowly pivoted in place and focused on whoever it was that Bumper seemed so pleased to see.
The mutt whined, but her curly tail was wagging a million miles a minute. She'd been right about the gnome. Eddy figured she'd have to trust the dog's instincts about who or whatever had found such dubious sanctuary in her potting shed.
Eddy squinted and tried to focus on the flickering light that flitted in the air over Bumper's head, but it was jerking around so quickly she couldn't tell what it was. She still had her key ring clutched in her fingers. She wasn't quite ready to put the shovel down, but she managed to shine the narrow beam of light toward the lump on the floor.
Green light reflected back from Bumper's eyes. Eddy swung wider with the flashlight. She saw a muscular arm, a thick shoulder, and the broad expanse of a masculine chest. Blood trickled from four perfectly spaced pitchfork-sized holes across the man's ribs and pooled beneath his body. There appeared to be a deep wound on his chest, though it wasn't bleeding.
In fact, it looked almost as if it had been cauterized. A burn? Eddy swept the light his full length. Her eyes grew wider with each inch of skin she exposed. He was marked with a colorful tattoo that ran from his thigh, across his groin to his chest, but other than the art, he was naked. Very naked, all the way from his long, narrow feet, up those perfectly formed, hairy legs to... Eddy quickly jerked the light back towards his head.
When she reached his face, the narrow beam glinted off dark eyes looking directly into hers. Beautiful, soul-searching dark brown eyes shrouded in thick, black lashes. He was gorgeous. Even with a smear of dirt across one cheek and several days' growth of dark beard, he looked as if he should be on the cover of People as the sexiest man alive.
Breathing hard, her body still shaking from the adrenaline coursing through her system, Eddy dragged herself back to the situation at hand. Whatever it was. He hadn't said a word. She'd thought he was unconscious. He wasn't. He was injured...not necessarily helpless. She squatted down beside him, and reassured by Bumper's acceptance and the fact the man didn't look strong enough to sit up, much less harm her, Eddy set the shovel aside.
She touched his shoulder and grimaced at the deep wound on his chest, the bloody stab wounds in his side. Made a point not to look below his waist. “What happened? Are you okay? Well, obviously not with all those injuries.” Rattled, she took a deep breath. “Who are you?”
He blinked and turned his head. She quickly tilted the light away from his eyes. “I'm sorry. I...”
He shook his head. His voice was deep and sort of raspy. “No. It's all right.” He glanced up at the flickering light dancing overhead, frowned and then nodded.
She could tell he was in pain, but he took a deep breath and turned his focus back to Eddy.
“I am Dax. Thank you.”
“I'm Eddy. Eddy Marks.” Why she'd felt compelled to give her full name made no sense. None of this did. She couldn't place his accent and he wasn't from around here. She would have recognized any of the locals. She started to rise. “I'll call nine-one-one. You're injured.”
His arm snaked out and he grabbed her forearm, trapping her with surprising strength. “No. No one. Don't call anyone.”
Eddy looked down at the broad hand, the powerful fingers wrapped entirely around her arm, just below her elbow. She should have been terrified. Should have been screaming in fear, but something in those eyes, in the expression on his face...
Immediately, he loosened his grasp. “I'm sorry. Please forgive me, but no one must know I'm here. If you can't help me, please let me leave. I have so little time...” He tried to prop himself up on one arm, but his body trembled with the effort.
Eddy rubbed her arm. It tingled where he'd touched her. “What's going on? How'd you get here? Where are you clothes?”
The flickering light came closer, hovered just in front of his chest, pulsed with a brilliant blue glow that spread out in a pale arc until it touched him, appeared to soak into his flesh, and then dimmed. Before Eddy could figure out what she was seeing, Dax took a deep breath. He seemed to gather strength-from the blue light?
He shoved himself upright, glanced at the light and nodded. “Thank you, Willow.”
Then he stood up, as if his injuries didn't affect him at all. Obviously, neither did the fact he wasn't wearing a stitch of clothes. Towering over Eddy, he held out his hand to help her to her feet. “I will go now. I'm sorry to have...”
Eddy swallowed. She looked up at him as he fumbled for words, realized she was almost eye level with his...oh crap! She jerked her head to one side and stared at his hand for a moment. Shifted her eyes and blinked at the blue light, now hovering in the air not six inches from her face. What in the hell was going on?
Slowly, she looked back at Dax, placed her hand in his and, with a slight tug from him, rose to her feet. The light followed her. “What is that thing?” Tilting her head, she focused on the bit of fluff glowing in the air between them, and let out a whoosh of breath.
“Holy Moses.” It was a woman. A tiny, flickering fairy-like woman with gossamer wings and long blond hair. “It's frickin' Tinkerbelle!” Eddy turned and stared at Dax. “That's impossible.”
He shrugged. “So are garden gnomes armed with pitchforks. At least in your world. So am I, for that matter.”
Eddy snapped her gaze away from the flickering fairy and stared at Dax. “What do you mean, you're impossible? Why? Who are you? What are you?”
Again, he shrugged. “I'm a mercenary, now. A hired soldier, if you will. However, before the Edenites found me, before they gave me this body, I was a demon. Cast out of Abyss, but a demon nonetheless.”

He knew she was bursting with questions, but she'd taken him inside her home, given him a pair of soft gray pants with a drawstring at the waist and brewed some sort of hot, dark liquid that smelled much better than it tasted. She handed him a cup, then as she left the room, she told him to sit.
He sat, despite the sense of urgency and the pain. The snake tattoo seemed to ripple against his skin, crawling across his thigh, over his groin and belly to the spot where the head rested above his human heart. He felt the heat from the demon's fireshot beside the serpent's head burning deeper with each breath he took. Exhaustion warred with the need to move, to begin the hunt. In spite of Willow's gift of healing energy, he felt as if he could sleep for at least a month. Instead, he waited for the woman, for Eddy Marks. He sipped from the steaming cup while she opened and closed drawers in an adjoining room and mumbled unintelligible words to herself.
The four-legged creature stayed with him. Eddy called it `damned dog,' but she'd also said its name was Bumper and that it was female. The animal appeared to be intelligent, though Dax hadn't figured out how to communicate with her yet. She was certainly odd looking with her bullet-shaped head, powerful jaws and curly blond coat.
“Sorry to take so long. I had to hunt for the first aid kit.”
The woman carried a box filled with rolls of bandages and jars and tubes of what must be medicine. He wished his mind were clearer, but he was still growing used to this body, to the way the brain worked. It was so unlike his own. This mind had memories of things like bandages and dogs and the names for the various pieces of furniture he saw, but too much in his head felt foggy. Too much was still trapped in the thinking process of demonkind, of kill or be killed. Eat or be eaten.
All that was absolutely clear was the mission, and he was woefully behind on that.
Of course, he hadn't expected to encounter a demon-powered gargoyle armed with fire just seconds after his arrival through the vortex. Nor had he expected the power of the demons already here. Eddy had no idea she had truly saved more than his life.
So much more was at stake. So many lives.
Her soft voice was laced with steel when it burst into his meandering thoughts. “First things first,” she said. “And don't lie to me. I'm trusting you for some weird reason when I know damned well I should call the authorities. So tell me, who are you, really? Who did this to you? How'd you get this burn?”
Blinking, he raised his head. She knelt in front of him. Her short dark hair was tousled and her chocolaty brown eyes stared at him with concern and some other emotion he couldn't quite identify. Thank goodness there was no sign of fear. He didn't want her to fear him, though she'd be better off if she did.
He shook his head. He still couldn't believe that blasted demon had gotten the drop on him. “I really am demonkind. From Abyss. The wound on my chest? It was the gargoyle. He surprised me. I wasn't expecting him, especially armed with fire.”
She blinked and gave him a long, narrow-eyed stare. “Hookay. If you say so.” She took a damp cloth and wiped around the burn on his chest. The cool water felt good.
Her soft hands felt even better. Her touch seemed to spark what could only be genetic, instinctive memories to this body he inhabited. He felt as if his mind were clearing. Maybe this world would finally start to make sense.
She tilted her head and studied the burned and bloody wound. “That's the second reference to a gargoyle I've heard tonight,” she said, looking at his chest, not his face. “They're not generally part of the typical conversation around here.”
Shocked, he grabbed her wrist. She jerked her head around and stared at his fingers. He let go. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. Have you seen it? The gargoyle? Do you know where it is?”
She stared at him a moment, and then sprayed something on the wound that took away the pain. She covered it with a soft, flesh-colored bandage before she answered him. “No,” she said, shaking her head, concentrating on the bandage. “Not recently.”
Her short dark hair floated against the sharp line of her jaw. He fought a surprisingly powerful need to touch the shimmering strands. He'd never once run his fingers through a woman's hair. Of course, he couldn't remember having fingers. He'd never had any form beyond his demon self of mist and scales, sharp claws and sharper fangs.
She flattened all four corners of the bandage and looked up at him. He wished he were better at reading human expressions. Hers was a mystery to him.
“Last time I saw it,” she said, “it was perched on the corner of the library building where it belonged, but I heard it flew away. It's made of stone and most definitely not alive, which means it shouldn't be flying anywhere. What's going on? And what are you, really? You can't be serious about...” She glanced away, shook her head again and then touched the left side of his chest, just above the first puncture wound. “Turn around so I can take care of these cuts over your ribs.”
He turned and stared at the fireplace across the room. After a moment he focused on a beautiful carved stone owl, sitting on the brick hearth. The owl's eyes seemed to watch him, but he sensed no life in the creature. It was better to concentrate on the bird than the woman.
Her gentle touch was almost worse than the pain from the injuries. It reminded him of things he wanted, things he'd never have.
He was, after all, still a demon. A fallen demon, but nonetheless, not even close to human. Not at all the man he appeared to be. This form was his for one short week.
His avatar.
Seven days he'd been given. Seven days to save the combined worlds of Eden, Earth and Abyss.
Impossible...and he'd already wasted one of them.
He would have laughed if he didn't feel like turning around and heading back to Abyss-except Abyss was closed to him. With only the most preposterous of luck, he might end up in Eden, though he doubted that would happen no matter how he did on his mission. The promises had been vague, after all.
So why, he wondered, had he agreed to this stupid plan?
“I asked you, what's going on? I'm assuming you know how my cheesy little WalMart garden gnome suddenly grew teeth and turned killer. Try the truth this time. With details that make sense.”
He jerked his head around and stared at her, understanding more of his new reality as each moment passed. She sat back on her heels and her dark eyes flashed with as much frustrated anger as curiosity.
He glanced down at his side. There were clean, white bandages over each of the wounds from the demon's weapon. The big burn on his chest was cleaned and covered. The entire length of his tattoo pulsed with evil energy, but if he ignored that, he really did feel better.
Stronger.
He sensed Willow's presence and finally spotted her sitting in amongst a collection of glass figurines on a small bookcase. Could demons enter glass? He wasn't sure, but at least Willow would warn him in time. He caught the woman's unwavering stare with his own. She waited more patiently than he deserved for his answer. “I always tell the truth,” he said. “The problem is, will you believe me?”
She nodded and stood up. “I'll try.” She stalked out of the room. He heard water running. A moment later she returned, grabbed his cup and her own and left again. This time, when she handed him the warm mug of coffee, he knew what to expect.
He savored the aroma while she settled herself on the end of the couch, as far from him as she could get, yet still have room to sit.
She was close enough for him to pick up the perfume from the soap she'd used to wash her hands, the warm essence of her skin, the scent that was all hers.
He shrugged off the unusual sensations her nearness gave him. Then he took a sip of his coffee, replacing Eddy's scent with the rich aroma of the drink. He couldn't seem to do anything about his powerful awareness of her. Of this body's reaction to her presence, her scent, to every move she made.
He could try to ignore her, but he didn't want to. No, not at all. It probably wouldn't work, anyway.
She curled her bare feet under herself and leaned against the back of the couch, facing him. He turned and sat much the same way, facing her.
Bumper looked from one of them to the other, barked once and jumped up on the couch, filling the gap between them. She turned around a couple of times and lay down with a loud, contented sigh. Her fuzzy butt rested on Dax's bare foot, her chin was on the woman's ankle.
“Bumper likes you.” She stroked the silly looking beast's head with her long, slim fingers. “If she didn't approve, you wouldn't be sitting here.”
Dax smiled, vaguely aware that it was an entirely new facial expression for him. Of course, everything he did now, everything he felt and said, was new. “Then I guess I'm very glad Bumper approves. Thank you for battling the demon, for taking care of my injuries. You saved my life.”
She stared at him for a long, steady moment, as if digesting his statement. There was still no fear in her.
She would be safer if she was afraid.
“You're welcome,” she said. “Now please explain. Tell me about the garden gnome. What was it, really?”
He steepled his fingers in front of his face and rested his chin on the forefingers. Had the one who first owned this body found comfort in such a position? No matter. It was his, now, for however long he could keep it alive, and resting his chin this way pleased him. “The small statue was inhabited by a demon from the world of Abyss. They've broken through into Earth's dimension, but the only form they have here is spirit-that dark, stinking mist you saw after you shattered the creature was the demon's essence. They need an avatar, something made of the earth...ceramic, stone, metal. Nothing alive. The avatar gives form and shape, the demon provides the life.”
She nodded her head, slowly, as if digesting his words. “If I hadn't seen it...Good lord...I still can't believe I saw what I saw out there.” She glanced around the room. “Where's that little fairy? The one you called Willow?”
“She's actually a will o' the wisp, not a fairy. She's a protector of sorts. She gathers energy out of the air and shares it with me. Helps me understand this unfamiliar world, this body. Right now, she's sitting on your bookcase. I think she likes being surrounded by all the little figurines on the top shelf.” He looked over his shoulder at Willow. Her light pulsed bright blue for a second. Then, once again, she disappeared among the tiny glass statuettes.
Eddy shook her head. She laughed, but it sounded forced, like she was strangling. Mostly, her voice was low, sort of soft and mellow. It fit her.
“I'm generally pretty pragmatic, unlike my father who believes every wild story he hears. I can tell it's going to be really hard for me to deal with all this. Just point to Willow as a reminder that the impossible is sometimes possible...you know, when I look at you like I think you're lying.”
“I promise to do that.” He smiled over the edge of his cup and took a sip of the dark brew. She'd said it would perk him up, whatever that meant. He did feel more alert. He hoped it wasn't because danger was lurking nearby. He still didn't understand all this body's instincts.
“You said you were a demon, but you look perfectly human. What exactly do you mean?”
“Exactly that. I'm a demon from the world of Abyss. It exists in a dimension apart from yours, but I was sent here by people from another world, one called Eden that's in yet another dimension. The two worlds never touch, never interact. They exist, complete yet apart, entirely dependent on the balance that holds them apart as much as it connects them.”
“So what does that make Earth?”
He stared at his cup of coffee a moment, picturing the three worlds as he imagined them. “Earth is the fulcrum,” he said, raising his eyes to study her reaction. “Eden on the one side is a world of light filled with people who are inherently good. Abyss, on the other, is a world of darkness, a land of fire and ice populated by creatures who personify evil. Earth is in the center, holding them apart, keeping them in perpetual balance...or, at least, that's the way it's supposed to work. The way it's always worked in the past.”
Her brows knotted over her dark eyes and she looked confused, but at least she was still listening. Dax ran his fingers through Bumper's curly coat. The dog was a hard muscled, frilly contradiction-she had a powerful body with strong jaws, yet she was covered in a curly blond coat that made her look utterly ridiculous. Dax couldn't imagine anyone creating an animal like Bumper on purpose, yet somehow the combination worked.
Sort of like Earth. “Your world is mostly populated by a mixture of different kinds of humans-some who will always try to do the right thing as well as those who are set on doing something evil. The best of you and the worst of you are balanced by the vast majority who are sort of like this dog of yours, a blend of both good and bad, beautiful and ugly.” He laughed. “Smart and stupid. Somehow, it all works and, on the whole, humans get along and live their lives.”
She snorted. He grinned at her. “Well, most of the time, anyway.”
Shaking her head, she set her cup down. “I beg to differ with you, but people don't get along that well. There are wars going on all over the world, people are starving and dying, we have to worry about terrorists blowing things up, and...”
“I know. That's why I'm here. Evil has grown too powerful on your world. Demonkind is gaining a foothold. Balance has reached a tipping point. It's slipping over to the side of darkness. The people of Eden recognized the danger, but they're incapable of fighting. Their nature doesn't allow it. They can, however, hire fallen demons to fight their battles.”
She ignored his reference to himself and instead asked the one question Dax didn't want to answer.
“What happens if the balance slips too far?”
He didn't want to think about that. Couldn't allow himself to consider failure. Bumper raised her head, stared beyond Dax, and growled. Dax looked down at the dog, but he spoke to Eddy. “Then the demons of Abyss take over. Earth will fall to darkness and demons will rule. Eventually, even Eden will be overrun.”
“Dax? I think you need to turn around.”
He snapped his head up at the quaver in her voice and caught Eddy's terrified gaze. He spun around on the couch and his feet hit the floor just as the stone owl by the fireplace stretched its gray wings and clicked its sharp beak, as if testing to make sure things worked.
Willow shot up from the bookcase so fast she left a trail of blue sparkles in the air behind her. Dax leapt to his feet, pulled in the energy Willow sent him and pointed both hands at the owl, fingertips spread wide.
Fire burst from his fingers in long, twin spikes of pure power. He caught the owl as it prepared to take flight, trapped the creature in a blazing sphere of heat and light and blew it right through the wire screen and into the fireplace.
Eddy screamed. The creature screamed louder, sounding eerily like the garden gnome Eddy had flattened. The cry cut off the moment the flaming owl hit the back of the firebox and shattered. A dark wisp, stinking of sulfur, coalesced in front of the broken pieces, but before it could race up the flue to freedom, Dax called on Willow's power once again.
This time a blast of icy air caught the amorphous mass of darkness, freezing it before it could make its escape. It hovered a moment, quivering in midair, then fell to the hearth and shattered into a thousand tiny pieces of black ice.
Dax hit the ice with a burst of flame. The pieces sizzled and disappeared in puffs of steam.
He took a deep breath and turned away from the mess. Eddy sat on the end of the couch, with Bumper caught in her shaking arms. Both of them gaped, wide-eyed, at the fireplace. Before Dax could assure Eddy that everything was all right, at least for now, she raised her head and stared at him.
“Okay.” Her voice cracked and she took a deep breath. “I take back what I said. You won't need to point to Willow for proof. I promise to believe anything you tell me. Explain, please, what the hell just happened?”

OK I just finished reading Dark Embers by Tessa Adams
4 luvs/4.5 luvs for hotness...ouch...

I liked this storyline it took me a little while to get into it but thats mainly anytime your introducing a new world/series so i can't fault that I will be reading the next one in this series cuz i got hooked there were times i wanted to smack Dylan and shake some sense into phoebe and phoebe lost me a couple times i stii liked it enough to pass along and will read the next one in this series...the steam factor wow!!!I had to buy one of those little battery operated fans just to finish the book LOL...i had to pass this one along to my bff's cuz it's hot.

Favorite Quote: "I want you!" she screamed it,..."Anyway, everyway--it doesn't mateer. I just want you!"

Read an Excerpt

Prologue

Dark EmbersHe’d failed. Again.

Locked inside his head, tormented by shades of what might have been, Dylan MacLeod stepped into the night and closed the heavy, wooden door behind him.

He paused for a moment, sucked in a deep breath full of heat and sand and misery. Told himself it was no big deal. Part of him even believed it.

After four hundred and seventy years, he was damn good at lying to himself.

Shoving away from the small house with the cactus garden and the stone swimming pool in the front yard, he walked the deserted street rapidly. It was three a.m., and his only company was a scorpion or two. The desert was quiet, the night solemn.

And he had failed again.

With each step he took, his conscience grew heavier.

With each footfall, his heart grew colder, until he was once again at that place without hope. It was where he usually existed, where he’d spent the last century, mired in guilt and rage and a fear he refused to admit.

That he was here now was his own fault. It had been stupid, even for a moment, to truly believe that she might have been the one.

Agitation made him walk faster, until his boots were pounding the pavement in rhythm with his too-quick pulse. Self-disgust made him shut down inside, until all he could think of was the night.

The stars.

The moon shining brilliantly over the desert.

At least until his jeans sagged around his ass.

With a muttered curse, Dylan yanked the faded denim back into place. Slid the button through the tab, jerked up the zipper.

What did it say about him that this latest encounter had left him so desperate to get away that he hadn’t stayed long enough even to get his clothes on properly? Worse, he hadn’t bothered to say good-bye to Eve . . . Eva? Eden?

For a brief moment, he struggled to remember her name, what she looked like. Then let it go, as it mattered less than nothing. It wasn’t like he’d be seeing her again. Within moments of slipping inside her, he’d figured out that she wasn’t the one—none of the signs were there.

No instant connection between them, as his clan mates so often spoke about.

No burning as the tattoo around his arm shifted to reflect the presence of his mate.

Dark EmbersNo searing pain as a part of her soul arrowed into his.

Nothing but a mediocre orgasm that had barely given his powers a pulse. Before she’d rolled off him, he’d been plotting his escape. And by the time the shower had kicked on in the bathroom, he’d been halfway to the front door.

God, he was a fucked-up bastard. Cold as ice, despite the fire that raged within him. Hot as flame, despite the glacier that had taken up residence in his stomach. Was it any wonder, then, that he couldn’t find her?
He didn’t deserve her.

His laugh, when it came, was anything but humorous. That had to be the understatement of the year. The decade. The new millennium, and probably the old one, as well. Why else would it have taken him this long to do what everyone else managed in the first two centuries of their existence? Why else would he be doomed to failure night after night, encounter after encounter? He had screwed up generations ago, and now he and his clan were paying the cosmic price. Big time.

His boots ate up the streets in the sleepy little town, as he struggled to put distance between himself and his latest sexual escapade. Wind whipped around him, played with the tails of his shirt, caressed his bare chest. But Dylan didn’t bother buttoning up. What was the point, when he was headed right back to the bar to find yet another female shifter interested in taking it off?

Hope sprang eternal.

As he walked, he scanned the desert around him. Checked out every brush of the wind against cactus; narrowed his eyes at the rustle behind a random pile of heavy rocks. Then shook his head as a low, deep howl split the air next to him. A lonely coyote was the least of his problems.

If someone had told him four hundred years ago that he would be here, in this place, he would have laughed at them. If they’d told him he would grow tired of night after night of hot, anonymous sex, he would have told them they were insane. But youth was like that—arrogant, seemingly invincible, convinced the world was for the taking. Or at least that’s how his youth had been.

He’d spent centuries gorging on women, taking them each and every way he could. Glutting himself on their scent and taste and feel, until his powers reached staggering heights. Devouring whatever they gave him with a grin and a wink and a softly whispered “Thank you.”

He had plenty of time, he’d told his father when the man had advised him to settle down. He was trying to find the right woman, he’d promised his mother when she’d fretted about the future. And then, from one heartbeat to the next, everything had changed.

His brother had been murdered. His parents had died soon after. He’d been crowned king. And just that suddenly, his people, his legacy, were without an heir. Bad enough that the second son was now the king. That he couldn’t find a mate, couldn’t deliver on his family’s legacy, was a nightmare.

There were others—his sister, his niece—who could take his place if he fell. But it wouldn’t be the same. The line of succession, which had remained in his family for more than three thousand years, would fall with him.

One more fuckup from a man who had never wanted to be king in the first place.

Dark EmbersDylan shoved the thought away—what he wanted didn’t play into things anymore. What was best for his people did. And what was best for them now was that he provide them an heir.

He should already have done so, should already have guaranteed his people’s survival through this millennia and into the next. God knew he had tried—for nearly four hundred years, he had tried. And he had failed.

No mate meant no heir.

No mate meant night after night of anonymous sex as he searched for her.

No mate meant a dwindling in his powers that was not just devastating, but downright dangerous—for himself and his people.

His was a precarious state of events for any centuries-old dragon, but for him it was an out-and-out disaster—particularly considering the state his clan was in.

Not that an heir would solve all the problems, but it would solve the most pressing—including the fact that it had been far too many years since a young dragon had been born to Dragonstar.

Far too long since they’d had something to celebrate.

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket, and for one brief second Dylan considered ignoring it. The day had been dismal enough—any more bad news and he might just take flight and never return. The idea was far more inviting than it should have been, far more compelling than it had ever been before.

In the end, he grabbed his phone and flipped it open. Barked “Hello” in a voice he knew was far from welcoming. He was king of the Dragonstar clan, and as such could never be unavailable to his people. That didn’t mean he had to like it—especially tonight.

“Dylan, come quick.”

A shot of uneasiness worked its way down his spine at the panic in his best friend’s—and second- in-command’s—voice. As a rule, nothing fazed Gabe.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Marta. She’s—” Gabe’s voice broke. “She’s sick.”

His stomach plummeted to his boots. “Are you sure?”

His brother-in-law’s voice was hoarse. “I’m sure. I tried to deny the symptoms, to ignore them, but that’s not possible anymore. I don’t think—” His voice broke again. “I don’t think she’s going to make it through this.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Dylan was already running, his boots echoing in the deserted street as he stripped his shirt from his body. He didn’t bother with the pants or boots; they would take too long. Just blurred his image as he started to shift.

Pain—red-hot and intense—as bones broke, reshaped, grew longer.

Pleasure—acute and all-consuming—as he became what he was meant to be.

He ignored both sensations; concentrated instead on making it through the change. One more second. Two. And then he was in the air, his wings spread wide as he soared through the star-bright sky.

Not Marta, not Marta, not Marta. The simple phrase was a mantra in his head as he sped toward his lieutenant’s house, making sure to stay invisible, despite the panic racing through him. So many of his friends, so many of his clan, had been taken from him in the last years. He couldn’t stand to lose his sister—Gabe’s wife—too.

Please, God, not his baby sister, too.

Dark EmbersBut when he landed in Gabe’s yard, he knew his prayers had, once again, gone unanswered. He could smell the blood from outside the house, could hear his sister’s nonsensical mutterings through the walls of dense stone.

Marta was bleeding out.

Delirious.

Probably already paralyzed.

If her illness followed the same pattern all the others had, she would be dead before the next moonrise. And there was nothing he could do about it.

Inside him, the power sputtered to life, surged through him. The need to heal, to fix, to do what he was destined to do. But he’d tried it so many times before on so many of his clan members, and each time, he had failed. This disease was an enemy he didn’t know how to fight.

Rage and anguish welled within him, crushing his lungs and twisting his spine into hard knots. Throwing back his head, Dylan roared with all his pent-up fury—then went inside to watch his baby sister die.

Excerpt taken from Authors website, all rights and copyrights are the Authors, this is purely for entertainment only

Believe it or not I will actually put some reviews on here LOL been really crazy in my life all of a sudden..weird stuff keep happening to me but i will prevail haha...just finished reading Demonfire by Kate Douglas, Insatiable by Lauren Dane and Wolf Tales 10 by Kate Douglas all were great definitely 4.5 stars will go into more soon...also in m/m just finished on kindle A helping hand, Hidden force and Hidden hands all by Shayla Kersten WOW..all i can say I'm completely hooked now on her books..also in m/m Lights and Sirens by Stephani Hecht definitely 4.5 stars and finally A little bit of rough by Laura Baumbach
I completely fell in love with this book and had to get Roughousing the second one immediately finishing the first loved them both they're on my favorite list right now, I've gotten alot of suggestions from other reviewers and have to say it's totally been worth it...so passing along so incredibly hot and steamy reads that will leave you wanting more or wanting a cold shower either way these will not disappoint..till next time miss me ;)

THE BEGINNING :D

Wow just starting this, not sure how yet but I've decided that I love to read and they're I'm sure are others like me who would like someone's opinion on really great books,I read erotic romance, romance, m/m(which I'm kinda liking), fantasy, paranormal, science fiction..basically anything "I LOVE TO READ". nothing i hate more than picking up a book at the store because the back read really good and getting it home to find out it sucks...yes it's happened to me more times than you could imagine ...OR I've read all my favorite authors books and have to wait for their next book :p Or try to find a really good new author who peaks your interest to the point that you add to your favorite authors list so I started looking for recommendations and think I can some of my own along...so here we go hope you enjoy