Tuesday, May 20, 2014

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Book Spotlight: Between the Waters (Symphony of Light, #2) by Renea Mason




Renea Mason writes steamy romances to help even out the estrogen to testosterone imbalance caused by living in a house full of men.
When she isn’t putting pen to paper crafting sensual stories filled with supernatural lovers, she spends time with her beyond-supportive husband, two wonderful sons and three loving but needy cats.
Her debut novel, Symphony of Light and Winter, finished second for Best New Paranormal Series of 2013 in Paranormal Cravings’ Battle of the Books and received a third place award for Best New Paranormal Romance of 2013 in The Paranormal Romance Guild’s Reviewers Choice Awards.
Renea is a member of Romance Writers of America, The Paranormal Romance Guild and The Fantasy, Futuristic and Paranormal subchapter of the Romance Writers of America.
She is also a founding member of Coffee Talk Writers and the Coffee Talk website–a site designed to support established writers and foster new talent.


S.ReneaMason@gmail.com
Etopia Press
Between the Waters
Symphony of Light Book 2
Renea Mason
Genre: Paranormal Erotic Romance
Length: Novel
Word Count: 63434
Page Count: 42
ISBN: 978-1-94169-20-66
Release Date: 05-15-14









Magic is no match for love…

Trapped somewhere between life and death, demigod Cyril has lost the ability to communicate with his love. But not before giving her valuable lessons in magic, as well as his blessing to move on without him.

Coming to terms with Cyril’s absence isn’t easy, but Linden is doing her best to honor his wishes. Until she receives an unusual request from Moreaux, an estranged member of Cyril’s family. Bizarre things are going on with Mary, the former housekeeper, and Linden can’t let them go. But when her investigation leads to a mistake that nearly costs her life, Cyril’s best friend, Overton, steps in and violates a promise he made centuries before to bring her back from the dead.

Gratitude turns to comfort, comfort turns to desire, and desire leads Linden to a shocking revelation. In her charge to uncover the truth behind Mary and Moreaux, she discovers a spell she can’t undo without leaving wounds on her heart, wounds she knows will never heal…

Buy the book:
Amazon.com (available at other international Amazon sites – Canada, UK etc.)

Between the Waters 
Chapter One 
Lessons

“Linden...take your clothes off.” Cyril’s voice, low and commanding, laced tendrils of seduction through my mind. Even without his six feet five inches of supernatural perfection looming, he had control.
“Absolutely not. You’re not talking me into that again.” A world away, he still commanded my body. My stomach filled with warmth, and hairs raised on my arms with the cadence and tone in my mind. Damn it.
“How was I to know the man would be walking his dog so late? If your inferior senses had detected his presence, you could have hidden instead of running naked through the streets.” He snickered. “Look at it this way...you were lighter without clothes, and Michael’s power infusion gave you the ability to outrun the beast. Important knowledge, even if your hearing sucks.”
Ever since the accident, which left Cyril in another plane of existence, tormenting me remained his main form of entertainment. He took great pleasure in my uncertainty. Being separated from his body left him with metaphorical idle hands, and my brain the only thing within reach. He blamed his actions on not knowing which abilities I inherited when I destroyed Michael—my short-lived husband and all-around supernatural nuisance. The moment I plunged the knife into Michael’s back, something in me changed. Beyond the branching pattern of raised skin covering my back, the experience also altered my soul, but how was unclear. With Cyril as my guide, I never knew if I’d end up the victor or the prey.
“My hearing is fine. Besides, I couldn’t hear around all the bullshit you were spewing in my head.” I crossed my arms, still not quite comfortable speaking to him out loud. A delay occurred between my thoughts and his access to them. His interpretation of them was accurate about sixty percent of the time. Verbal communication allowed for instant understanding, when it worked.
“You’re not questioning me, are you? Do you want to learn or not?” The huskiness surrounding his words accented power and his centuries of experience. Since he was at my mercy until he once again inhabited his body, desperation for control led him to push boundaries.
As much as I hated to admit it, I needed him too, but letting him know was not an option. He was cocky enough. Another ounce of ego would make him unbearable.
“Mr. Aristin, do not think for one moment you are going to manipulate me. There needs to be trust.”
“I couldn't agree more. Had you trusted me, we wouldn't be in this mess.” He sighed and in a soft tone wrapped with demand said, “Now take your clothes off.”
“Can’t I just stick to releasing souls? That was easy, and I could leave my pants on.”
“No. You have much to learn.”
Cyril had let me know that he was not sure why, but the mixture of his blood in my veins and my proximity to Michael’s destruction gave me the ability to release souls. He had said that mankind should be damn thankful I was there to take his place as the gateway to the afterlife. Freeing their souls for the journey to heaven or hell saved them from an eternity in purgatory. But apparently that was only part of it.
“As long as you don’t start calling me Grim.” Maybe it wasn’t fair to forbid the nickname I bestowed upon him for his role as the soul deliverer, but I was beyond worrying about his sensitivities.
“I have far better names for you. Would you like to hear how you inspired them?”
“No. Let’s get this over with. It’s freezing.”
“Magic is more than an ability. It’s a skill. Surely our previous lessons have taught you that. Channeling the energy takes practice.”
“But you say it’s equal parts will and magic. Some situations require an influence and focus—spell component and chant. Like how you told me you created your family with the souls of three men, your blood, magic, and focused will. What does any of that have to do with getting naked?”
He growled. “Stop talking and do it. Trust me.” His use of trust as a trump card to win arguments was getting old.
I inhaled the crisp night air as the moon shone bright in the night sky, outlining everything in a strange, opaque aura. Its shadows appeared astral. It was almost midnight, and the night was cold. I looked behind me to make sure I was alone. Cyril’s lessons had brought us back to the cemetery where we originally met. The energy resulting from the intersection of two powerful ley lines would make it easier for me to learn. I moved my hands to the zipper on my coat.
“They are magical; the moon shadows, I mean.”
It sucked having him in my mind. A few seconds after a thought crossed he had full access to it as a memory. I was never alone except when he grew too weary to maintain the connection or when it dropped like bad cell phone reception. His presence was always a surprise. During rare merciful times, he’d let an embarrassing stray notion vanish without comment, but that was a rarity most days. The constant focus on controlling my thoughts wore on me. It was impossible to stop them from forming without thinking of why they shouldn’t be formed in the first place. Either way, I was screwed.
He must have sensed my turmoil because he changed tactics. “If you’d be so kind as to oblige my request...” But his attempt at manners was undermined by the growl reverberating between my ears. I couldn’t even roll my eyes in peace.
“Request, my ass. Besides, it’s cold.” No matter how much I wanted to resist, the guilt that gripped me for trapping him outside his body softened my response to his bullshit every time.
“You won’t be for long. Now get on with it; we haven't got all night. I’m growing tired.”
Another quick look around revealed row after row of headstones. The crisp nip of winter air and the moon-bathed landscape awaited me. I shrugged off my coat, removed my shoes and socks, shimmied the jeans over my hips, and pulled the sweater over my head. Standing next to a pile of clothes in only panties and bra, I wrapped my arms across my chest. With the temperature near the low thirties, I shivered and looked up to the sky. Closing my eyes, I grumbled, “Now what?”
He laughed. “Oh, my dearest Linden, open your eyes and look down.”
Busted. I looked, but focused several feet away, avoiding my body. I focused on the grass trimmed in tiny white crystals of frost. So fucking cold.
“You naughty girl. When I told you to take your clothes off, I meant all of them. Do it. Then let me see.”
I huffed and reached around to unfasten my bra. The task proved difficult as my hands shook from the temperature, anger, and anxiety. Working the panties down my legs, I complained, “I’m going to die from hypothermia.”
Standing on a hill overlooking the Laurel Mountain range, in a cemetery, at midnight, talking to nothing but the night air while taking orders from a voice in my head was all the evidence I needed. I had finally gone insane.
“Show me.” The menace gone, seduction in its place.
I sighed and complied. My nipples were so puckered and hard they could have chiseled ice. My skin reddened from windburn.
A sound in my head like air being sucked through teeth echoed between my ears. “You are so beautiful. When I’m back, I’m going to dedicate a week to savoring each part of your body. I’m going to wrap my lips around each of those rosy buds. Without touching any other part of your body, I’ll make you writhe, pant, and moan for me.”
Damn him. The breeze blew, but I was immune. The heat that grew from within, negating its effects. “Cyril, please...” I intended a warning, but he interpreted my words as a plea.
“I feel your need. If I was there, I’d bend you over the bench, watch your red hair drape over your back, and fuck you until you screamed my name. When the echoes of your passion stopped filling my ears, I’d sit you atop me and bury myself inside you and lathe the milky white skin of your breasts with my tongue. When those beautiful green eyes told me you surrendered, I’d bite and consume you as you consumed me.”
“Stop. Cyril, please. I am on edge. I’m ready to ignite. You can feel it. Please don’t make it worse.” He held a switch to my body’s thermostat. The only thing chilled was the place between my legs where moisture pooled. What other woman could say that she bedded a god made for sex? The goddess who created him, to see to her every physical need, perfected every detail. The man was a Titan in bed, and damn my luck, the universe gave me a taste before taking him, just so I’d know what I was missing. Fucking fates.
“When you bring me back to you, where I belong, I’ll make it up to you. You have my word. Are you still cold?”
“No.” In fact, I was surprised I didn’t combust.
“See, you should trust me more often.”
I scoffed.
“Now your lesson...Light, close your eyes.”
Lowering my lids, I did as he asked.
“Can you feel the pulse?”
I focused, blocking out the whistle caused by the breeze blowing across my ears. The cold numbed my skin once my Cyril-induced inferno extinguished. It shook the hairs on my arms, tickling.
“Walk to it.”
I did. As I got closer, it thundered in my brain. Cyril’s identity, my anxiety, and the strange sensation caused something akin to a headache to take hold. “It’s making my head hurt.”
“That’s expected. The pulse has increased. Now, find the place where it’s so fast, it’s sustained. The pain will subside when you are in the precise spot. You’ll learn how to pace out the pinnacle, and you won’t need to focus on the feeling.”
“Is that what you were doing the first time I saw you here? You were counting.”
“Yes. The lines shift with the season, and winter is two paces to the left of summer. It’s easier to count since I’ve been here before. Better than getting naked and risk you attacking.”
“I never would have attacked you!”
“You may have been young, but the hunger in your eyes for me, even then, was unmistakable.”
“You are impossible. Hurry, I’m getting cold.”
“Do you need me to heat you up again? Should I tell you about how, if I was there, I’d drop to my knees, spread your legs and run my tongue up the inside of your thigh, savoring the essence. I’d lick—”
“Stop it. You can’t keep talking about sex.”
“Yes, I can. I’m made for sex. I am inseparable from sex.”
“But you’re not here, and it’s torture.”
“Seems a fitting price for not trusting me with our future.”
“I was only trying to help.”
“By giving yourself to a psychopath in a ridiculous effort to save me? I’m the closest thing to a god that exists here, and you thought to save me? My only vulnerability is you. You will be my destruction. Now that I have you, I won’t be without you. It’s your stubbornness that risks us both.”
“Well, sorry I told you I loved you. I should have left with Michael and kept you in the dark, wondering.”
“I would have found you. Besides, it was your careless disregard of magic that lead to my imprisonment.”
“Imprisonment? Really? Could you be more dramatic? I was trying to protect you.”
A sound that reminded me of a snort resonated. “Yes, and a ridiculous notion it was. Keep moving toward the source.”
“Whatever.” I cracked my lids the slightest bit to look for obstacles in my path. The pulsing stabilized at the center of the large circle of gravestones. The Nester family, I remembered. “Now what am I supposed to do? The frequency is sustained, and the headache is gone.”
“Still cold?”
“Fuck you.” He knew I wasn’t. Another one of his games was to ask questions he already knew the answer to just to prove his point.
“That’s my girl.” He laughed. “Clear your mind.”
“Easier said than done with the current infestation.” Removing all thoughts of Cyril and his tongue proved difficult. I focused on the grass, taking in the uneven blades.
“Now visualize. Look through the surface of the Earth and picture the energy. Picture pulling it through your body. As I said before, magic is little more than focused will, woven with the forces that sustain this world.”
It took a while to clear my head, and thankfully, he remained silent. Allowing numbness to fill my limbs and seep into my mind, I penetrated layers of earth, reaching the electric white lights branching under the surface. Each juncture enhanced the brightness. I focused on the nearest point and pictured drawing it toward me.
Soon a surge started in my feet, pins and needles followed, as the energy crept through my nervous system. I closed my eyes. The current continued until I was enveloped in the light, feeling invincible, but only for a moment. The energy started to recede.
“Linden, don’t let go. Use the chant. Remember how I told you to use the words to focus. Say them slowly. Nium parnum omsti narum.”
Mentally I grasped at the light as my lips formed the words. Even though not magical, each syllable helped channel the essence. I regained control and was once again overcome.
His next command caught me off guard. “Do not speak. Think of Clarence.”
Clarence? Why? I thought it odd but didn’t comment. Clarence, my friend and colleague, was the furthest thing from my mind. We spoke the night before. He was still vacillating between being pissed at me for bringing him into all this supernatural bullshit and appreciating me for adding excitement to his life.
Another set of instructions. “Think of how he looks. What he sounds like.”
Clarence. His smooth, coffee-colored complexion, baldhead, swimmer’s build, and slight Southern drawl.
My skin rippled like water and blended with the tingling caused by the energy. A straining from within—stretching muscle, shifting bone—caught me by surprise. It was not wholly painful, as the pulse served as an excellent analgesic.
“Keep thinking of him, concentrate.”
Entranced by the light and Cyril’s words, Clarence’s mannerisms came to mind. The way he fiddled with his collar, the strange way he cleared his throat when we passed a sexy man and how he held my elbow each time we crossed the street. I was all- things Clarence. I held the image, unmoving.
“That’s it. Feel him, know him, become him.”
Another focused thought on Clarence’s wide, mischievous smile and the corners of my lips lifted, mirroring my thoughts of his actions.
“That’s it, become Clarence.”
Deep breaths helped my concentration. I embodied his six plus feet of height. His toes, his large hands, his... “What the hell?” My eyes flew open.
Cyril screamed in my mind, “No, gain focus. Gain focus! Use the chant!”
Oh, dear God. I was a six-foot-tall...African- American...man. Holy shit. I was Clarence. What. The. Fuck!
“Linden, you have to calm down. Don’t let the magic snap back. If you do, it will be much worse. It’s going to be bad enough already.”
I turned my hands over and over again, taking in their size, color, and masculinity. Another glance revealed I no longer had breasts and a little lower... I was going to need more therapy.
The hands I scrutinized shook, and the sight disoriented. Rippling started in my skin, and the light began to recede.
“Damn it. Too late. Linden, I’m so sorry.”
 was he sorry? For turning me into Clarence? But my knees buckled, and I fell to the ground. The energy sucked the last bit of warmth with it as it receded into the earth. My bones gave and muscles cramped in places I didn’t know I had. The pain crippled as I lay writhing on the ground.
“So sorry. Breathe through the pain.”
“Ahhhh...” The scream escaped from between my teeth. My eyes closed from contractions that raked my body. Some kind of grunting pushed through my throat. I was going to die.
“You’ll be OK. I wish I could help you.”
“Fuck you! What did you do?” Another violent spasm and sweat broke out across my skin. So cold.
“It should end soon. Just a little longer.”
Another groan I couldn’t control. I gritted my teeth from pain and the chill. More perspiration. I wanted to cry, but it would’ve hurt too much.
The jerking muscles quieted, and with that came the ability to move my limbs. I forced my eyes to open. Thank God! I had never been so happy to see my breasts.
“Light, I didn’t do anything. It’s all you.” Because Light was his pet name for me, I both loved and loathed him in that moment.
I formed my mouth into an O, and I steadied my breathing. Something wet slid down my forehead. What on earth? I opened my eyes to find my entire body covered in a thick, clear, mucous substance. It wasn’t sweat after all. I collected some and flung it from my fingertips. “What the fuck is this?”
“That, my dear, is shifting residue. It’s the by- product your cells produce when you take the form of another. You used to be quite found of it. It’s what your dearly departed Michael used to craft those little animal figurines he gifted you. Isn’t it romantic?”
“I would so punch you if I could.” I wiped the sticky disgusting liquid from my cheek.
“Do you have any idea what this means?” Elation sounded in his voice. My body felt like I fell from a thirty-story building, and he sounded like it was his fucking birthday.
“It means I’m bare-ass naked, lying on the ground after midnight, in a cemetery covered in goo.
Oh...and a minute ago I hallucinated that I had a penis.”
“That was no hallucination, Light. Isn’t this wonderful?” He was excited. Cyril didn’t get excited. Even when we first met and he discovered my immunity to his curse, he never let his enthusiasm show.
Another sweep of goo from my arm, I breathed heavy, rising on all fours. The slime dripped from my body, leaving tiny pools. “You’ll excuse me if I don’t see the wonder in all of this.”
“Linden, you mimicked Clarence. You changed shapes. You became him. I can’t even do that. I always envied Michael. Think of the possibilities.”
“Became Clarence? I feel like I gave birth to him.” The substance coating my skin started to harden. My clothes lay in a pile about ten feet away, but it felt more like ten miles.
“The process is a bit messier than I expected, but do you know what else this means?”
Right hand, left knee, then left hand, right knee. Each movement required thought, conviction. I needed to get to my sweater before the stuff hardened. “I.” Breath. “Don’t.” Huff. “Know.” Grunt. “What. Does. It.” Hyperventilate. “Fucking.” Growl. “Mean?” I fisted the sweater and rubbed at the small crystals forming on my skin.
“It means you are much stronger than I thought. Of course, you’ll need practice.”
I shrugged on my coat. Screw the underwear. Wiping down my legs, the residue splintered and flaked to the ground like small snowflakes. “Great. I can be Clarence. You know, one Clarence is more than enough.”
“You can do something I cannot. I wonder what else you can do.”
“Hell. No. We are done with your experiments.” I leaned back, wiggled my bottom into my jeans and eyed my car. Another ten feet. Fuck!
“You are strong enough to bring me back after all.”
On my hands and knees, I came to a halt. Why I looked up when he pissed me off was beyond me. It wasn’t as if he could hear me any better. “What? There was a possibility I wouldn’t be able to do it? When were you planning to tell me you might be stuck forever?” Five more feet. Never gonna make it.
“Everything is equally possible and impossible, Light. I hadn’t planned to tell you.”
“Oh, save your philosophical bullshit. I’m not in the mood.” My hand slapped hard against the door of my black Pontiac Solstice, and I pulled myself up, leaning against the car, still trying to catch my breath.
“I didn’t think it was possible, but I love you even more.”
“Funny, I didn’t think...that I’d want to strangle you any more than the night I ran naked through the street while being chased by that beast of a dog. But again, you’ve outdone yourself, my love.”
“Light, necessity is the mother of invention.”
I groaned at the pain and his words and opened the car door, falling into the seat. I grabbed each leg and pulled them inside one at a time. The smell of the leather soothed, familiar. I took a deep breath. “Nice quote. Who said it?”
“I did.”
I slumped against the steering wheel, trying to muster the strength to drive. “No, I mean originally.”
“That’s what I meant. Many attribute it to an old English proverb, but it was in a speech I gave in Greece, around 400 BC.”
Immortals. Bah! “Is there anything you haven’t done? I mean you’re essentially a vampire with your fangs, you’re immortal, you can summon wings, use magic like a wizard, and escort the dead. How does anyone compete with that?”
“They don’t.”
My groan of frustration surprised even me. I turned the key. The engine roared to life. “Why Clarence?” I cranked up the heat and rubbed my hands together, trying to generate warmth from friction. Finally, I slumped back in the seat and rested my hand on the gearshift.
“Why not?”
I had no energy for his games. Enigmatic pain the ass.
“I heard that.”
“Good. Now shut up and let me drive.” My teeth chattered.
“Would you like me to warm you up? I could—”
“God help you...” I grabbed the rearview mirror and stared into it. Glaring at myself, knowing he’d see my reflection, I focused my anger. Goo had crystallized in my hair, and faint bruises formed under my skin. “If you say one more word, I will pull over and hack my own head off just to stop your incessant bullshit. Then who will you annoy? Huh?”
I reached up and moved a strand of hair, and they all moved. My hair was so hard an eighties girl would’ve been envious. “And Cyril, if I have to shave my head because of this, I’m not bringing you back. Do you hear me? Never. Coming. Back.”
He laughed. “Did I ever tell you that your feistiness makes me hard? If I were there I’d—”
“Don’t push me.”

Check out Book 1 and #0.5 in the Symphony of Light series


Symphony of Light and Winter
Symphony of Light Book One
Renea Mason
Genre: Paranormal Erotic Romance
Length: Novel
Word Count: 88,375
Page Count: 389
Price: 5.99
ISBN: 978-1-940223-10-0
Heat Level: 4
Release Date: 06/21/201
3

3rd Place – Best Paranormal Romance
Paranormal Romance Guild Reviewers Choice

2nd Place – Best New Paranormal Series
Paranormal Cravings Battle of the Books

One woman. Seven men. All bound by one man’s undying devotion.

Fundraiser Linden Hill has a knack for reading people. She always knows which conversations will put a prospect at ease, which drink will loosen a patron’s lips—or his wallet, and how cleavage will make a donor sweeten the deal. She’s even foreseen her dateless weekends four hundred and sixty-four times in a row.

But ten years after watching life drain from her former mentor’s and first love’s eyes, her skills for divining the predictable are lost. When Cyril returns, he’s still gorgeous, but this time he’s beyond human, far less dead, and pissed. His lack of memory drives him to desperate acts, and his turbulent re-acquaintance with Linden pulls her into his war with a creature hell-bent on his destruction. His group of six supernatural men share a tantalizing secret, but despite the hunger, it’s love that leads her to sacrifice everything to save him…        
Buy the book:

Amazon.com (available at most international Amazon sites – Italy, Germany, Japan, Canada, UK etc.)

BarnesandNoble.com

AllRomanceeBooks.com

Kobo.com

Bookstrand.com

*Print edition available at Amazon and Barnes and Noble.
Symphony of Light and Winter - 18 + Mature Content

My amusement was interrupted by the absolute last thing I needed. Cyril. As if being in a room with a bunch of men who wanted me but didn’t know why and hated me for it wasn’t bad enough. In his black custom suit, he radiated power. He pulled at his cuff links as he stopped to survey the room.
Instead of trying to make my escape, I seized an opportunity to antagonize him. I was really starting to enjoy tormenting him.
“Good morning, Grim, it is nice of you to join us.”
“Grim. Ha! She called him Grim.” Rhys clapped his hands as he laughed.
Cyril didn’t acknowledge me or Rhys’s comment. He stood there for a very long time and looked around the room at each man. Nobody met his gaze but me. Cyril’s fists clenched at his side, jaw tight, and face furious.
“I warned all of you,” he addressed the room. He didn’t growl but rather wrapped his words with a subtle menace.
“Leave them alone. You know this is entirely your fault. If you would just think things through, you’d stop fucking everything up. I do have to say, of all your fuckups, this one is certainly the most impressive and entertaining from my perspective.” I winked at Overton, who managed to glare at me even with his head practically bowed. Why were they so fucking subservient to him?
The next thing I knew, I was yanked from my seat and hoisted onto the counter. Cyril grabbed my ass and pulled me to the edge, forced my legs open, and stepped between them. He wrapped his arms around me and placed his head against mine. It wasn’t his voice I heard but rather his mind. It felt like when I talked to myself but somehow I knew it was him. Strange, he had tone and inflection while communicating.
“You need to stop showing off in front of my men. Yes, I fucked up, but do you really want them to give in to their urges? Do you think you can fend them off? I could toss you to them and see how far you get. Is that what you want? Maybe I should let them have their way with you and pull up a chair to watch. I want you to think about something before you start to defy me. I’m the only one who can keep you safe. So it’s best you stop being a smart-ass for five seconds and listen to me. I’m going to do something that will piss you off. I’m warning you now it’s for your own good. You need to go along with it, no matter how angry you are at me. Don’t fight me. I’ll try to fix this but until then, I need to take a few precautions.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond. If I thought something, could he hear me? Was this two-way communication? I tried to push him away.
He tightened his grip and his voice was in my head again.
“Stop it! Let me remind you that I have a special connection with these men. Not only can I read their thoughts but I can’t block them. I don’t have to try to receive them. I know exactly what each person in this room, besides you of course, is thinking right now.”
So that’s what Overton meant when he said Cyril had ways of finding out.
“The thoughts that assaulted me when I entered this room would make a porn star blush; every one of their little fantasies featured you.”
I giggled.
The voice growled. “Don’t laugh. I won’t pretend I’m not jealous and angry. I am. But if you knew the things they were thinking you’d better understand why I need to do what I’m about to do. Do you see Dominic over there? Let’s just say his tastes run a little dark. Ever spend considerable time naked with your hands bound behind your back and a ball gag in your mouth? He’s picturing you that way, this very instant.”
I stiffened. That didn’t at all appeal to me.
“Thor seems to think that you’d enjoy all of us taking you at the same time.”
And he seemed so quiet and sweet.
“Sinclair wants to shove his cock down your throat until you choke, all the while telling you how it’s your entire fault. Rhys is thinking of how you would look sprawled out on the hood of his new sports car, and Overton...”
“NO!” I yelled.
It seemed like a violation of privacy with Overton. Unlike the others, I considered him a friend. I respected him too much.
“See, like it or not, I’m going to tell you what he’s thinking since it pisses me off the most. He thinks I’m going to fuck you right here on this counter, to lay my claim. Once he gets past the fantasies of watching me fuck you, which he finds exceptionally arousing...”
There was a momentary pause to the voice and when he started again, he was angry.
“He then knocks on your bedroom door after you run crying from the room. You invite him in and he holds you in his arms while you cry about how I violated and humiliated you. He wants to comfort you. He wants to be your savior. He wants to save you from me. But he knows he can’t.”
I felt the moment he left my head, because a sudden wave of dizziness came over me.
With no more words, he tilted his head and placed his lips against mine. I fought the rigidity that tried to seize my body. I knew it was best to give in. I wouldn’t fight him, but I knew every time he got close, I ran the risk of losing myself. I was still way too angry to just give up.
His lips danced with mine as he nestled himself between my open thighs.
Was Overton right? How far would he take it? If it did go too far, would I be able to stop him? He was such a fucking weakness for me I honestly didn’t think I would.
He was gentle and softly stroked my back as his tongue made love to my mouth. With one hand he cupped my ass and pulled me flush against him, and with the other he reached up, cupped my breast, and squeezed hard. His kiss grew frantic and I became caught up in the sensation, forgot where I was, and that I had an audience. He pushed me hard against his erection as he rubbed himself rhythmically against my core. “You are mine. You belong to me. Now say it! Let them all know who you belong to.”
Was he kidding? I hesitated.
He ran his fangs up the side of my neck in warning. He whispered in my ear, “Say it. You need to say it. Let them hear it come from your lips.” His hand drifted from my breast to the hem of my nightgown and pulled up one side so it rested in the crease where my leg met my hip.
Somehow the part of me that knew he was right surfaced, and the stubborn part of me took a momentary vacation. If I was his, they wouldn’t dare defy him. It would keep me safe.
His fingers toyed with the edge of my panties before tugging the fabric to the side to allow him to stroke my moist skin. He positioned himself at the juncture between my legs, allowing my naked flesh to gather friction from his cloth-covered cock.
“Yes, Cyril, I’m yours.”
With that, he struck. His fangs pierced my neck. The second of pain from his bite passed and the pleasure grew, igniting my veins with liquid desire. One arm tightened around me, pulling me harder against his cock. The other held my head while he sucked harder. Each pull he took was linked to the sensitive place between my legs. He ground his hips into mine and I moaned. The first wave of climax hit, tensing muscles and pushing my breath out in a rush. This was new. He could do this just by biting me?
I shook in his arms as he drank. Tremor after tremor seized me as he took his fill. I was so caught up in the sensation I only vaguely noticed the moans and growls that escaped from behind his teeth. With one final pull, and a thrust of his hips, he finished with a crushing embrace as he removed his teeth from my neck.
“Mine!” he roared. He enveloped me in his arms and held me close. He dipped his head to lick closed the small punctures on my throat.
I threw my head back. My breathing slowed as the cloud that had invaded my head receded.
Son of a bitch! I just came in front of everyone while sitting on the kitchen counter!
 was afraid to open my eyes but when I did, he stared back.
He nuzzled my cheek. “I’m sorry. I only want to protect you. If you’re mine, no one will dare touch you. I needed to lay my claim but I didn’t want to take anything you hadn’t already offered. Since you’ve replenished me before I thought this might be more acceptable.”
I was angrier with myself than him.
He caressed my arms and back. When I mustered enough courage to look around, we were the only people in the kitchen, with the exception of Overton, who stood in the doorway holding the keys to my car.
Cyril softly lifted my chin so that my eyes would meet his. “Again, I’m sorry. I know I end up saying that far too often. But I need you to know, hearing those words from your lips...ah, hell. I can’t even explain it. Perhaps someday, you’ll utter them in truth.”
He placed his forehead against mine, took a deep breath. “Fuck. Maybe Overton is right. Maybe someone should save you from me.”

Etopia Press
Impostors’ Kiss
Symphony of Light Book 0.5
Renea Mason
Genre: Paranormal Erotic Romance
Length: Short
Word Count: 7601
Page Count: 42
Price: 0.99
ISBN: 978-1-940223-62-9
Release Date: 11-15-2013









One night of sexual pleasure could teach a lesson in love.

Cyril is weary from weeks of traveling the Scottish moors, but his luck takes a turn when he rescues a battered and broken child. To express his gratitude, the boy’s father offers Cyril a night of carnal indulgence with his eldest daughter. Cyril graciously accepts, looking forward to a night of sexual release to ease the loneliness of his travels.
But what the supernatural sex god and deliverer of souls doesn’t expect is to be taught a lesson in love from the young and beautiful Celestine.
In a night of passion, two lost spirits find solace in an impostor’s kiss: one longing for a love that doesn’t yet exist, the other drowning in pain and guilt over love lost. Neither is what they seem…but what they learn will change them forever…
Buy the book:
Amazon.com (available at other international Amazon sites – Canada, UK etc.)

Impostors’ Kiss 
“Who is she?” 
This was not a question I expected. Even though I was comfortable being nude, most humans were not. I saw in her mind what horrors men had bestowed upon her. The massive erection I sported should have frightened her, but with each quick glance I made in her direction, I saw she stood firm and resolute, while twirling the blindfold between her fingers. 
 “Who?” Not the time to speak riddles. 
 “The woman for whom that kiss was intended.”
  “Oh.” I brushed my hands through my hair. The long, black strands fell one by one back into place. I sighed. “She’s my love. My light. But she is out of reach.” 
 “I have a confession.”


Coming Soon in 2014
Curing Doctor Vincent – An Erotic Novella Trilogy



Out Today ~ May 20, 2014

New Releases Out Today
May 20, 2014

Mating Brand (Mating Heat #3)
By 



Perfect Mate (Shifters Unbound #4.5)
by Jennifer Ashley
Due Out: May 20, 2014







Bear Shifter Cormac is determined to take single mom Nell as his mate, despite her objections—until her sons are endangered and she desperately needs help.

The print version of this story can be found in the Unbound anthology that was released on March 5, 2013.









Make Me Burn (Fireborne #2)

by 
Due Out: May 20, 2014

Sixth Grave on the Edge (Charley Davidson #6)

Due Out: May 20, 2014
Few things in life can come between a grim reaper and her coffee, but the sexy, sultry son of Satan is one of them. Now that Reyes Farrow has asked for her hand, Charley Davidson feels it's time to learn more about his past, but Reyes is reluctant to open up. When the official FBI file of his childhood abduction lands in her lap, Charley decides to go behind her mysterious beau’s back and conduct her own investigation. Because what could go wrong?

Unfortunately, another case has fallen into her lap—one with dangerous implications. Some very insistent men want Charley to hunt down a witness who is scheduled to testify against their boss, a major player in the local crime syndicate. If Charley doesn't come up with an address in 48 hours, the people closest to her will start to disappear. 

Add to that a desperate man in search of the soul he lost in a card game, a dogged mother determined to find the ghost of her son, and a beautiful, young Deaf boy haunted by his new ability to see the departed as clearly as he sees the living, and Charley has her hands full. The fact that Reyes has caught on to her latest venture only adds fuel to the inferno that he is. Good thing for Charley she's used to multi-tasking and always up for a challenge…especially when that challenge comes in the form of Reyes Farrow.


Monday, May 19, 2014

Quote-Tastic Monday #13 ~ Enslave

Quote-Tastic Monday ~ Enslave


"Quote-Tastic" is hosted every Monday on Herding Cats & Burning Soup 

Join us every Monday and share a favorite quote that’s grabbed ya for one reason or another. Everyone’s welcome to join in. Authors, bloggers, readers. The more the merrier!
Just grab the button and toss up your post ^_^

Don’t have a blog? No worries, just leave your favorites in the comment section.

      
     It wasn't going to end like this. She had come here because of Payne but Andreu was the reason she had allowed herself to grow weak. She had wanted to kiss him. No, it was more than a kiss. The way she looked at him at times, and the connection that crakeled into life between them whenever their eyes met. It was far more then just a sense of responsibility for what had happened to her that had him desperate to find a way to bring her back from the brink of death. ~ Enslave by Felicity Heaton

     He hadn't been looking for a romantic entanglement, had wanted to keep his time at Vampirerotique as purely business, but meeting Varya had changed all of that. It had changed him. He was a fool like his brother. Varya had unlocked the barriers, torn down his defences, and stolen his heart. She had given him a taste of her and now he was addicted, and just a taste was no longer enough. ~ Enslave by Felicity Heaton

** See my review HERE!

So, what's YOUR favorite quote this week?
Don't forget to hop around and check out everyone's picks for the week! 
Never know, you just might find your next favorite read!