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"
* * * * *
“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.
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