The Community Series
Enter the hidden town of Ţărână, where violence and love, evil forces and good,
vie for supremacy in the secret lives of the Vârcolac and their battle to survive.
Coming April 16th, 2018
Pre-order: Amazon | Amazon UK | B&N | Kobo | iTunes
MOON-RIDERS COMING APRIL 16TH, 2018!
Book Four in The Community Series:
Bound to the wrong mate… Crushed by an unforeseen enemy… Forced to become a person you were never supposed to be…
Will the community of Ţărână finally know peace? Now that both factions of the town’s Om Rău enemies are behaving, it seems possible. An unusual quiet blankets the Vârcolac people, although for the warriors it’s an uneasy quiet, teeming with potential danger.
Recently promoted to the Special Operations Topside Team, quiet warrior Breen Dalakis is the least likely man to commit an unauthorized bite. But in a moment of blinding bloodlust, he bites and bonds with a new Dragon woman, permanently tying himself to a stranger. Now he has to find a way to break through her seething rejection, but a lifetime spent skirting his emotions has left him blank.
Wild girl Charlize Renault was a willing participant in the romp with Breen, but she had no idea what letting him bite her truly meant. Now she’s stuck with a man she doesn’t want. Have sex with him? Sure. Be bonded forever to the guy? Shudder to think. She’s never been in a long-term relationship, doesn’t plan to start now, and there’s a good reason for that—a deeply buried secret reason she has every intention of keeping locked away inside her. Forever.
In the midst of these personal struggles, the community learns of another Dragon abduction plot. The warriors spring into action, never imagining they’ll confront an enemy far more ruthless than the Om Rău…whose scheme has nothing to do with kidnapping women. The enemy’s target is one member of the Spec Ops Team. Chained, tortured, and at the mercy of this new faction, Breen is forced to be a part of an appalling cruelty, and only after surviving this horror will he begin to face the changes he needs to make to win Charlize.
She stopped in front of him, wiping her sweat off with the towel. “Hi, I’m Charlize.”
Breen clawed at the wall behind him as her aroma vibrated through his neural pathways so hard it shook some teeth loose in his jaw. She wasn’t wearing any scent-reducing mud behind her ears. Not even a smudge. That his fangs hadn’t unsheathed yet was astounding.
“What’s your name?” She grinned, blazing a hundred-and-twenty watts at him.
“You—” Speech stopped. He stared at her smile. Her canines were on the pointy side for a human’s. He managed a shallow breath and tried again. “You’re not supposed to be in here.” Had another Vârcolac male been in the gym, Breen’s low, growly tone would’ve snapped the man’s attention over. Predators knew the sound of other predators on the hunt. “This is one of the times when the warriors train.”
“Oh?” She tossed the towel toward a storage cubby on the other side of the door.
“There’s a schedule posted on the wall,” he told her.
“Sorry, I didn’t notice. But also I’m a marathon runner, so, you know”—she shrugged—“I gotta run. First thing I do whenever I get to a new place is check out the gym.” She stepped closer. “So you’re a warrior, huh?”
His vertebrae slid together, his spine feeling like it was growing lubricated. For what activity, he wasn’t sure.
“That means you work with Marissa’s husband, right?”
“Uh...” Only half-listening, he directed his sub-response to her breasts. Sweat had reformed and was making patterns down her cleavage, beads and streaks, drops swelling, rivulets darting. His own sweat started to form around the collar of his workout shirt.
“What kind of stuff do you guys do when you train?” She tilted her head toward the boxing ring. “Fight?”
“Uh…” he said again. He was getting stupider by the second.
“Do you want to work out with me before your buddies show up?”
The AC needed to go on now or— He stopped short and squinted. “What did you say?”
A smile played at one corner of her mouth and her eyes crinkled a little. “We could spar in the boxing ring.”
He stared at her. “You want me to hit you?”
“No.” She laughed, and somehow the noise tugged straight at his balls. “I want you to let me hit you. Nothing too hard.Just something to give me a good arm workout.”
Exactly what he needed: add fang-elongating aggression to what was already a serious Molotov cocktail of lust.
“Come on, it’ll be fun.” She upped the wattage of her smile.
He stared some more. At her smiling teeth. The sharp dig of those pointy canines at his throat would feel… His package started to burn, the throb in his dick nearly unbearable. Throttling off a moan, he tugged at the crotch of his workout gear.
The woman’s attention followed where his hand went—caught! Her focus remained on his crotch for an extra-long moment, then lazily, slowly, her eyes trailed back up his body and she met his gaze again. Her pupils had dilated, hunger in her eyes now…
Get out, Dalakis. Lashing his hand out sideways, he made a blind grab for the door handle. Missed it. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. A force inside him wouldn’t allow it.
“Or we could wrestle,” she suggested in a soft, inviting voice.
He went still. His gnawing hunger made more growly noises in his ears.
“I have to warn you, though, I usually win at wrestling. ’Course I’m thinking that’s because men let me.” She tossed him a wink.
Getting horizontal, sweating together, legs and arms entwined, breasts that defy spectacular smashed against me… Another moan worked its way up from deep in his diaphragm. He trapped most of it in the back of his throat. But not all of it.
She heard enough.
Her blue eyes sparkling, she let out a playful whoop and jumped him.
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