Blog hop winners! As you may or may not know, I participated in the Snarkology Blog Hop both here and with my writting group on ShapeShifter Seductions, so I have two winners to announce. Eva Millien was the winning commenter here. Eva, check your e-mail. The commenter who won a copy of my back list on ShapeShifter Seductions was Jean MP, who didn't leave an e-mail address. Jean, I sent you a chat on Blogger with my e-mail address. Shoot me an e-mail to claim your prize, or leave a comment here.
Next bit of random news, "Catching the Hunter" is now live on Amazon.com. It's also on sale, so at the moment, you can pick up both my second and third books for $3.19, or 20% off. Here's the shorty link to Amazon's page. (Because the long link was freaking HUGE!) http://tinyurl.com/kd5p2fk
Last bit of news, I finally picked what I'm going to submit next: a menage werewolf/darkling story about a young noble woman who is not interested in being a "lady" and so buys a werewolf pack in order to set herself up a person of power in her own right. I'm doing the polishing on it now and should be ready to submit it soon. Cross your fingers!
And last but not least, an exerpt from "Catching the Hunter"
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“Where are we?” Sorsha asked uncertainly, drawn out of her thoughts by curiosity when he led her toward a side branch of the castle complex. “I thought you were going to a bathhouse.” The hunt lord turned back and smiled at her mischievously, his sapphire blue eyes glowing. Her breath caught in her chest. It was inconceivable that one as scary as this buck should be so sexy.
“Eddie calls this the kennel. It’s a seldom used barracks off the side of House Argental,” he replied as he offered her his arm. She was about to refuse him until she saw that there were no steps leading to the elevated lava tube. This stupid servant dress wouldn’t allow her to jump the two foot distance, so she accepted.
“Who is Eddie?” she asked. Sorsha was beginning to feel like a fool for all her questions, but he never seemed to offer information without prompting. She was probably lucky he was answering at all. Her brother was a good example of a male who never felt the need to explain himself.
“The houndsman who thinks a bog-zobber pen is a suitable holding cell for traitors,” the shifter lord answered with a playful wink. She shook her head. Story after story told how hard and vicious the wild lords of the hunt were. How uncivilized, inhospitable, and surly they could be. This one was none of those things. He actually seemed to have a deliciously wicked sense of humor. She was beginning to wish she’d met him under other circumstances.
“Does he by chance have red hair?” she asked, sensing a theme.
“He does,” he agreed. “Met him, have you?”
“And…um…who are—I mean I should have asked already. The hum—I mean, Eddie—he said you sometimes were called—”
“I’m called Conchobar by many. You may call me Connor,” he cut in. She blushed at the wry twinkle in his eye. “And you are called?”
“Um, Sorsha. Of the Darach clan,” she replied shyly.
“Pleased to meet you, Sorsha of the Darach clan. This”—he paused, waving his arm—“is my home away from home. Or at least where I stay when I’m in Bhaithcreig.”
“I guess I never thought about wild lords staying in a city,” she admitted. “It doesn’t fit with the image of a powerful shifter who prefers to roam the forests of Annwn as a wolf.” He rewarded her observation with an amused snigger.
“We do prefer to roam the forests of Annwn. But we also have duties which bring us here from time to time now that the high lord resides here.”
He paused outside a rough opening and waved her ahead of him. Sorsha slipped around him through the low entrance into a steamy cavern. Her cautious curiosity gave way to awe. The cavern was completely unimproved and had a good sized hot spring filling most of the available floor space. Clouds of rolling steam swirled invitingly, obscuring most of the chamber. For a doe born and raised in the chilly forests of the northwest, it was a dream come true, a hot bath big enough to get lost in.
Connor slipped in beside her as she stood there gawking like a fool. Her attention was drawn back to him when he began undressing. She had to remind herself to breathe as he unfastened his tartan, folding it as he took it off. Without the yards of black wool in the way, she got an excellent view of his muscular buttock, still covered by the thin leather of his kilt.
“Wh–what are you doing?” she stammered as he bent over to unfasten the ties on his boots, presenting her with a spectacular view of his heavenly rear. He looked back at her from under his arm, a sexy smirk lifting one side of his mouth.
“I don’t usually bathe in my clothes,” he purred.“Oh!” she exclaimed self-consciously. “Right. Bath and a feeding.” She tried to ignore the sensual thrill at the mental image of him feeding from her while they bathed, then realized she was allowed to enjoy this.