Supernatural

Sometimes dark, sometimes humorous...the Winchester brothers and Buffy's Scooby gang would be right at home in these tales of werewolves, vampires and things that go bump in the night. (Sometimes the "bumps" come in the most sensual places though, so look for the heat level of each story!)

 

 

RISE OF THE WOLF

Rise of the Wolf

Danger and erotic romance under the Hunters' moon...

The sight of the Hunters Moon as it loomed over the dark country road had already creeped out Hilary Samuels, city girl born and bred. She didn't know Murphy's Law was about to kick into high gear. One flat tire and a skid into a cornfield later, she found herself in a face-off with an evil but seductive vampire. Add to that one huge werewolf leaping in to save the day. Any other girl would scurry back to the more conventional hazards of life in Chicago.

She'd moved to one of the city's far distant suburbs to open the new Café Lotti. A success here would mean promotion to manager of the next Lotti being built in the heart of the city, but how do you build your customer base when you're being stalked by the undead? Not to mention that the hot, hunky C.E.O of your company who turns out to be the werewolf who charged to your rescue?

Nathan Sutton admits that he's her shape-shifting protector, but Hilary can tell there's something he's not telling her. The secret he reveals may have the power to bond them forever or rip them apart.

From Rise of the Wolf

Her right rear tire blew out. The car crunched rapidly across the gravel shoulder and luckily, if you counted being surrounded by dead cornstalks at one a.m. in the middle of nowhere as a good thing, it ended up smack in a cornfield via some tractor trail instead of crashing headlong into a drainage ditch.

Lovely. Just because she knew how to change a tire didn't mean she wanted to do it herself.

Twenty minutes, two broken nails, and one hopelessly grease-stained a-line skirt later, she picked up the jack and leaned back against the passenger side of her car to shake the last cornhusk flakes out of her hair.

"I hate my life." The man in the moon had no comment. But the man who'd come up soundlessly behind her did.

"I'd be more than happy to help with that."

Hilary spun toward the voice and promptly dropped the jack on her foot. Cursing and hopping like a lunatic with Tourette's Syndrome, she nonetheless noted his ample pecs playing peek-a-boo beneath his unbuttoned white silk shirt that glowed and glistened--both the shirt and his pecs--in the bright moonlight. He also sported some mighty tight black trousers and an impeccably tailored black coat that reached past his well-muscled thighs to end mid-calf. The quality of his clothes shouted serious money although his fashion sense was just as seriously stuck somewhere in the 1800s.

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm already finished," Hilary snarled.

"I'm well aware of that fact. Perhaps, though, I have something more to offer."

Maybe this guy's Lamborghini was parked back on the road. Maybe she was passing up the opportunity to schmooze some eccentric billionaire who was out for an evening drive, but wasn't it just like a man to come along and expect kudos for the offering to help after all the hard work was done? She bent over to pick up the jack--no mean feat while balancing on one foot--just in case this guy wanted to offer her more than a lift.

"Listen," she began while shaking the jack in Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Creepy's direction. She couldn't seem to stop staring at him. After all, he had such dark, deep glowing red eyes. What? Wait a minute.

But why should you wait? Your skin in the moonlight looks as soft and radiant as pearl. Do you not yearn to be caressed?

She would have sworn his lips didn't move. His voice was so gentle, warm, sensuous, intimate as though he were inside her thoughts, her soul.

Then somehow, without moving, he had covered the space between them and stood next to her, pressed against her, leaning over her. His soft hair tickled her cheek. His breath whispered across her lips as he parted them with a flick of his hot tongue. The kiss was light, soft, then firmer and deeper, the deft movement filling her with the promise of such delights to come that her knees actually began to give way. He caught her, one of his arms bracing her at the deepest curve of her back, the other wrapped so that he cradled her neck in the palm of his hand.

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