He’s my protector, my confidante. Then one night he became more. I want him, I need him, and, if I’m honest with myself, I love him. I just don’t know if he’ll ever see me as more than what we’ve always been: friends. I don’t want to lose him but it’s getting harder and harder to keep my feelings to myself. Should I risk it all or play it safe?CAGE
She’s my light, my saving grace. The night we came together I knew I could never live without her. I want her to be mine: my lover, my friend. Maybe, if I can get her to see past all the reasons why we shouldn’t be together, she’ll be my forever. It just might be time to turn it up and go for broke.
We walk into the kitchen just as the teakettle begins to whistle.
He nods once and walks to the stove, turning off the burner. He pushes down the lever for the toaster and prepares my cup of tea. I head over to the little alcove rather than the table and sit on the window seat. I’d love to curl up here with a book… or just look out the window.
The ocean is angry today, the waves white-capping and frothing with fury. I wonder what fueled its anger today. I know all about anger. Anger is what’s kept me going the past twelve years. Without it, I’d have given up. Well, in truth, I did give up for a little while…until I found that anger.
Then I was able to focus and do what needed to be done. Just get through life until I could find my parents’ killers. I haven’t forgotten and as much as my parents tell me I should let it go when I dream, I can’t. Someone took them from me, took their lives so senselessly, so brutally, so carelessly, and then walked away without a thought. I grind my teeth and watch as a bird lands on the sand, picking at a dead fish. Irony? Or, my parents with a message?
“Here we go,” Cage says and sets a tray next to me. He sits on the other side of the window seat, crossing his legs like me and I grin. He’s huge… get your mind out of the gutter. I mean overall, not his naughty bits, but in truth those’re nicely proportioned.
I nibble on a piece of toast, looking at him with his black-rimmed glasses on, reading the newspaper. God, he’s so incredibly sexy. The glasses…oh, I’d love to get him under me while he’s wearing those.
“What?” he asks when he catches me staring.
I take a sip of my tea. Lemony and sweet just the way I like it.
“How tall are you, exactly?”
He smirks. “Six-four.”
I nod. “And how much do you weigh?”
I raise my brows. “Nothing but muscle.”
He shrugs a shoulder.
“You have to know that’s incredibly hot,” I say without thinking.
When he grins, I feel the blush stain my cheeks.
“It doesn’t matter what I think or know,” he replies, leaning forward, running a fingertip on my flushed cheek.
“What matters then?” Generally, I only care what I think about myself, my body. I’m not really into the whole making myself look how society and men want you to look—not since I gave up full-time modeling.
“What matters,” he tells me, sipping his tea, “is what you think.”
“Hmm,” is all I can come up with. He stumped me there. What do you say to that? I take another bite of the toast, which isn’t sitting all that well.
He winks and goes back to reading his paper and I turn to watch a mother with two little boys playing down on the beach—well, it’s more like they’re running and she’s chasing them. They can’t be older than three or four, and oh goodness are they cute with their curly brown hair that’s a little too long, yet stylish, and their cute little board shorts. I wonder if they’re twins or if they were born one right after the other. They look very close in age.
Absently, I pick up my tea and take a sip, then cradle it in my hands, the heat of the ceramic cup reminding me not to get too comfortable, but I hold it steady. Most would set the too-hot cup down, but I need the reminder, apparently. What am I thinking, thinking I could have a life like that? I can’t. Not with la Famiglia. And yet, I’m going to be thrown right into that situation with the tiny life growing inside me. I pull my knees to my chest and rest my cheek on them, still holding my tea.
I sigh and take another sip, watching the mother and boys twirl in the sand. I wonder if it’ll be a boy or a girl. I should tell the father, but I’m not ready. I just found out, just got used to the idea, and I’m not very far along at all. It’s only been since just before the tour started so that’s seven, maybe eight weeks.
I’m kind of glad we get a break for the next couple months. It helps with my being so sick and it also helps with the level of danger that’s been escalating daily.
The mom leads the boys back to their blanket and they sit down to enjoy a snack. Crackers maybe. And I imagine juice. Definitely juice. I note she’s drinking Starbucks and I long for my Caramel Macchiato.
I sigh again.
“You’re doing an awful lot of sighing over there.”
I look at Cage from the corner of my eye and shrug a shoulder.
“You’ll have that one day, Fee,” Cage says, tilting his head toward the family.
I snort. “It’s impossible. There is no way I can take my child down to the beach and be that carefree. I wouldn’t dare. I have to always be on alert. Always. It’s the first rule Grandpa taught me and one I never forget.”
Cage frowns. “There are ways you can have that, Fee. Nothing is impossible. You forget, there are ways to protect those in la Famiglia.”
I look at him, eye to eye. “Lucy,” is all I say and he nods.
“That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
I nod. “It never is. But it does.”
He tilts his head to the side. “It does. More than it should. We should have anticipated it wasn’t just you they were after.”
I nod, tears welling in my eyes as I remember seeing my sister pale and lifeless in that hospital bed.
One lone tear falls, trailing down my cheek and dropping onto my thigh.
“What is it?” Cage asks.
“That should have been me,” I admit.
The way he says it, so powerfully and definitive has me starting a bit.
“It’s never going to be you. This won’t happen again.”
“If they want it to, it—”
“No, Sera. It won’t happen again. Safety measures and security are now where they should have been then.”
First and foremost I am an avid reader of romance. I read every single day. Without reading I wouldn’t be inspired to write. The same can be said about music. I started reading with Nora Roberts and Sandra Brown’s LoveSwept titles forever ago and went from reading solely traditionally published to reading nearly all indie authors. I still read my Nora and a few others. A must.
I started seriously writing about six years ago when the need to get the stories that are stuck in my head on paper became overwhelming.
I hope you enjoy reading my stories as much as I enjoy writing them.
I’m a huge fan of music, chocolate, fruit, Fall, Matt Shadows, Avenged Sevenfold, and Milo Ventimiglia.
Leader of the covert vampire team that protects the President, Raymond learns that their human director is retiring. The replacement is a human female who has no idea vampires exist. Due to a threat against the President, Raymond is forced to quickly indoctrinate her into vampire culture. He struggles with reborn romantic feeling even though he has sworn never again to pursue a human woman. The female operative, Alex, accepts the Director position. Passion emerges within her, but keep the dream career position she has fought for many years to attain, she must remain human with no romantic ties.
Raymond smiled at her. It was a beautiful smile, not fake or forced. You can always tell when it’s real. His black colored eyes held the smile, not just his luscious, full lips. Alex noticed his hair was a bit damp, probably due to a last minute shower on his way over. His hair was parted tonight, and a curl of bangs hung lopsided onto his forehead. It gave him a Superman appearance. She always did like Superman.
Alex knew her pulse sped up as she took in the visual strip tease in her mind. She thought back to their earlier conversation. Humans and vampires could have sex together. Sex. She swallowed hard. She hadn’t thought of having sex with a man in a long time. Her heart sped up even faster. She wondered if he could hear it. If he did, he didn’t show it. He just sat sipping his wine, looking sexy as hell.
Her glass was in her hands, and she took a gulp of wine, hoping to squelch the heat she was feeling. Instead, it fueled the flame. Would sex with a vampire be different than with a human? If it were, she was betting it would be better. The sexual relationships she had in the past, if she could remember that far back, were moderately satisfying. Definitely not romance novel, page turning, steamy … but satisfying.
Blinking a few times, she realized she was staring at his crotch. Could she be more obvious? She knew in her heart that she was going to take this promotion. She couldn’t start a romance with a team member, it wasn’t professional. She wasn’t that type of woman. Plus, there was no guarantee that he was interested in her that way. He had treated her with nothing but respect.
“Alex?” Raymond asked.
Alex looked up, making eye contact. “What?”
“Are you okay? You’ve been quiet for several minutes.”
Regina Morris loves paranormal romances featuring vampires, but her personal taste is suspenseful and lighthearted – not horrific and gory. The White House, the President, and Washington D.C. are merely backdrops to support her romance series (the COLONY). They offer some suspense, but her books are romances and not political thrillers.
She has lived in many different parts of the world, and grew up on military bases. Her father was career military and CIA; his father worked with the Secret Service. She graduated high school in Germany and attended the University of Texas at Austin, where she received a degree in Computer Science with a minor in math. Her specialty is social media and she loves connecting with people.
Besides writing, she has past work experience as a software engineer (current job), public speaker, sales representative (#1 National Sales Rep for an online company years ago), and she is an amateur portrait and sports photographer.
Nathan Carver gave up on love long ago after a betrayal he wasn’t sure he could ever get over. When Angie Simms arrives in town to help his brother’s fiancée with their upcoming wedding, she stirs things in him that he hasn’t felt in a long time. Things he doesn’t want to feel. So he pushes her away.
Angie wants what she wants, and doesn’t always think before she speaks. When she lays eyes on sexy cowboy Nathan, she’s determined to find out what caused his brooding attitude. She can tell right away that he’s not someone to play with. He’s got a layer of hurt around his heart, which makes him that much more attractive.
The feisty woman is determined to make Nathan her conquest, but will he take a chance on Angie?
Content Warning: contains adult language and sexual situations
Lacey Wolfe has always had a passion for words, whether it’s getting lost in a book or writing her own. From the time she was a child she would slip away to write short stories about people she knew and fantasies she wished would happen. It has always been her dream to be a published author and with her two children now of school age, she finally has the time to work on making her dream come true.
Lacey lives in Georgia with her husband, son and daughter, their six cats and one black lab who rules the house.
He reminds me of the men who grace the walls of stores where my daughter shops. Men with rippling abs and sinewy ropes of muscles. Men intended for younger women.
I never expected him to notice me. Imagine my surprise when he cornered me in the locker room, pressed his incredible body against mine, and forced me to acknowledge a desire more powerful than anything I’d experienced before.
Now that he has introduced me to the pleasures of being dominated, he wants to possess me completely. But how can I risk my heart, when I know his affection will never last?
Violet and Leta sat down and ordered some iced tea and chicken salad for lunch.
“So what was going on back there?” Leta asked.
“Nothing really. It’s just that Stuart Swearingen was back there. Do you know him?” Violet attempted indifference but was afraid it failed miserably.
“Who doesn’t know him?” Leta waved her hand in front of her face.
“I mean, do you know him?” Violet persisted.
“I’ve met him a few times.” Leta shrugged. “Why?”
“I don’t know.” Violet giggled. “He’s so hot.”
“Violet, you have a crush on him!” Leta laughed.
Violet blushed. “Okay, maybe I do.” She tossed her napkin in her lap with a flourish. “So what?” she asked with mock defiance.
“Well, I could care less, but he’s awfully young.” Leta said in a sing-songy voice.
“I don’t see why that matters.” Violet brushing Leta’s words aside. “It never hurts to window shop,” she said, then changed the subject to Leta’s mother-in-law who was coming to town the next day, much to Leta’s chagrin.
An hour later, Violet hugged Leta goodbye, then made her way back to the ladies’ locker room to grab her bag of tennis duds. Standing in front of her locker, her mind wandered to all the errands she had to run, what she needed from the store… She was creating these lists in her head when a breeze drifted up her arm, and she felt a presence behind her.
“Violet.” A gruff voice sounded in her ear, and an alarm bell rang in her brain. With her body still facing the lockers, she turned her head ever so slightly to see who it was.
It was him. Good Lord, what was he doing in the ladies locker room?
“Yes?” Her voice warbled, and her knees threatened to buckle.
“I waited until your friend was gone. I wanted to talk to you.” Stuart Swearingen rasped in her ear. He was right behind her, centimeters from touching her.
“You did? Why?” Violet’s heart raced and her muscles tensed. What could he possibly want with her? A part of her was outraged he had the gall to enter the women’s dressing room unannounced and sneak up behind her, but another part was fascinated and intrigued by his odd behavior. It wasn’t fear she felt exactly, but excitement, a shot of adrenaline coursed through her veins.
“It’s been a long time,” he growled.
“Yes, it has,” she answered nervously. “You’ve grown up quite a bit.”
He chuckled. It was a deep throaty sound and made her legs quiver. “I guess I have, and you’ve never looked sexier.” Heat rose between them as he closed the distance separating them. “I’ve seen the way you look at me.” His breath was moist on her neck.
Mortified, Violet snapped, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He chuckled and took one of her hands in his. “Yes, you do.”
Violet took a step backwards to close her locker, and her derriere bumped against his pelvis, sandwiching his erection between them. He lifted her hand to his lips and planted a kiss on the inside of her wrist. Goosebumps surfaced on her skin, and she shuddered with delight.
“Have you ever considered being a sub?” he asked.
“A what?” she responded.
He let out a deep groan as he pulled her to him. “A submissive.” He nuzzled her neck. “I like to dominate.” He spun her around to face him, then placed his hands on her waist and pulled her to him. To her surprise, he bent his head and touched his lips to hers. His mouth captured hers, and his tongue darted between her lips, invading, exploring. Violet’s pulse raced and she found herself returning the kiss, following his lead. She melted into his arms, giving in to his passionate embrace. A warm, hazy cloud of longing settled over her and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been kissed like that, but it had to have been years.
Then he stepped away, leaving her breathless and wanting.
“Let me know if you’re interested.” With that, he pressed a business card into her hand, threw her a sexy wink then strolled out of the women’s locker room as if it was his private boudoir instead of a public lavatory for members of the opposite sex.
Violet stared down at the card in her hand. Clutching it in her palm, she gathered herself and somehow walked to her car on unsteady feet.
A former psychologist, Normandie has always been fascinated by human behavior. She loves writing quirky characters that are all too human. Fiber arts, baking, and Pinterest are a few of her favorite pastimes. She lives on a farm with a passel of kids, an adorable husband, and a pet pig who’s crazy for Red Bull. If you’d like new release info on Normandie’s books text RACYREADS to 24587 (Use all CAPS).
Enforcer Fontana Marks vacations undercover until she can testify against the Track Cartel for crimes against the Galactic Coalition. But the cartel is hiding something, and Fontana intends to find out what—then make them pay for murdering Jenny, the young scientist she failed to protect while on assignment on Rigil IV.
The last thing Fontana intends to do while vacationing incognito on the fantasy resort Sagitariun is follow the advice of her superior. “Rest, recuperate, and find a man.”
But how can a woman resist a blond, blue-eyed man streaking naked in public?
And why can’t she to get rid of the damned trench coat she stole?
The man shifted, and the loose-fitting white shirt went taut across his broad shoulders. Memory of his tanned skin and steel muscle hit like a thunderbolt, and Fontana’s stomach did a flip.
He grinned, a sure sign he knew he was being viewed through a one-way door. Desire rippled through her on a slow, sure wave that promised heart-stopping pleasure. She’d known good-looking men. Ray, her last serious relationship five years ago, had been gorgeous. She’d been mad for him, but the man standing outside her door had a quality about him that made her want to snuggle up against him and fall asleep.
Fontana snorted. Her body would disagree. Right now that part of her throbbed with an insistent desire to bed him—hard. Maybe then the flutter in her heart would have a say, and she’d fall asleep wrapped in his arms. That would be a welcome change to the sleepless nights she’d spent since Jenny’s death. It would be a temporary fix, but she could use at least one good night’s rest.
She sighed. First she’d better deal with the damned raincoat and find out how the naked man had escaped the shock troopers. Then there was the little matter of how he’d found out where she was staying.
Fontana rose and smoothed the form-fitting blouse and poly-cotton slacks she wore. “Open door,” she said, and the door dematerialized.
His stare slid down her body, and her nipples tightened to a delicious discomfort—and one he couldn’t miss under the millipore fabric of her top.
“Well, Mr. Long John.”
His blue eyes returned to her face. “Long John?”
She stepped aside and motioned him in. “Last time I saw you, your long johnson was standing at attention.”
He entered, and the door rematerialized behind him. “Give him a minute, and he’ll be at your command again.”
“What are you doing here?”
He wrapped an arm around her waist. “You said to look you up.”
She spun out of his grasp and backed up. “How did you find me?”
“Spacer Jack’s is brimming with information.”
He was right. She’d figured that out the first time she’d walked in. Even a benign resort like Club Sagitariun had a dark side. Proof stood right in front of her in all its masculine glory. No. All his masculine glory had been long, hard, and ready to go in the alley. Damn shock troopers. Ten more minutes and she would have had a quick hard ride on his steel rod.
He continued to advance.
She retreated. “Where’s my raincoat?”
He grasped her hand. “What do you need with a man’s raincoat?”
“The owner is looking for it.”
“Forget about him.” He stepped closer.
“I came to thank you for the coat. Let me buy you breakfast.”
Some offer—and not what she had in mind for jump-starting a morning that had begun four hours ago for her.
“It’s not my coat,” she said.
“We’ll find the owner and thank him—later. We have some unfinished business.”
Heat radiated from his body. Her pulse sped up. The smile at the corners of his mouth deepened. Her calves made contact with the bed. He stepped closer, grasped her hand, and pressed her palm over his heart.
Fontana ignored the warmth spreading through her and locked gazes with him. “What did those shock troopers want?”
He shrugged. “Never found out.”
“They never caught you.”
“I had to elude them so I could be here.”
That had a certain logic she liked.
His fingers gently tightened over the hand still pressed against his heart. “You’ve got my heart beating like crazy.”
She noted the hard muscle of his chest, under which only a regular heartbeat thumped, and pulled her hand away. “It’s not nice to lie.”
She wanted to laugh. He actually did look hurt.
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten all that we’ve shared,” he said.
Now she did laugh. Fontana was startled at the unexpected relief she felt. She hadn’t laughed since setting foot on Rigil IV. He cut off her thoughts by pulling her against him. His mouth crashed down onto hers. The hard ridge of his arousal dug into her stomach. She could almost believe she had a special effect on him. Almost. But that erection was just a little too ready—a little too eager—to belong to anyone but a working man.
T. C. Archer is comprised of award winning authors Evan Trevane and Shawn M. Casey. They live in the Northeast. Evan has a Ph.D. in electrical engineering, and Shawn is a small business owner. Their collaboration began on a lark with the post WWII film noir story The Pickle My Little Friend, and has evolved into over a dozen works, which includes their new series The Phenom League, the Blood Angels series, and Daphne Du Maurier winner, the romantic thriller For His Eyes Only.
Is there anywhere safe when you’re the object of someone’s obsession?
Alexandria Stevens is a New York Times best-selling romance novelist. After she makes a guest appearance on a popular TV talk show, she creates a Twitter account. Within a few short weeks she meets a fan, and they become fast friends…or that’s what Alex thinks. When Alex finds herself being stalked, the person she least suspects is her new friend Jillian. What she doesn’t know is that Jillian has been obsessed with her for years. She wants everything Alex has, even her husband.
Content Warning: sexual situations, adult language, violence
She re-read her edits and was about to make a phone call to Colleen when she heard the doorbell. She walked to the front door and looked out the window to find a delivery man holding a long, white box. Her heart swelled and skipped a beat as she opened the door. Hudson used this florist.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Smyth. These are for you. Sign here.”
She smiled and signed for the flowers. “Thank you.”
“Have a good day.”
“You too,” she replied.
With a huge smile on her face she opened the box and placed the flowers in her favorite crystal vase on the island right next to the laptop. She quickly called Colleen and made plans to meet her on Monday to finalize the movie deal. Alex was on cloud nine. She opened a new document and started writing what she hoped would be her next novel. She’d been working for a good hour when she heard the garage door open and Hudson’s car pull in. She looked at the time, it was only a little after three. Her heart soared as she heard the back door open. She looked up and there he stood with a bottle of wine in his hand.
“I see you received the flowers.”
“Thank you,” she replied as she walked slowly toward him.
You could almost feel the electricity in the air between them, they were like two ends of a magnet searching for the connection they desperately needed. Hudson placed his briefcase and the bottle of wine on the table. She was finally in his arms and their lips met.
Alex squealed as Hudson took a few steps and she found her back up against the wall. Alex was desperate for him, their hands and lips were all over each other.
“Alex, God.” Hudson moaned when she undid his pants.
They wasted no time undressing each other. Alex wrapped her legs around his waist and moaned as he eased into her. He started out slowly, as if wanting to savor the reconnection, but soon the passion swept over them and he took her fast and hard against the kitchen wall.
Alex lay sated in Hudson’s arms on the kitchen floor as they tried to catch their breaths.
“I’m so sorry about last night.”
“You’re forgiven,” Alex replied before she kissed his chest. “But I’m at fault also, it takes two to fight.”
“I started it.”
She let out a laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“I just realized that we’re lying on the kitchen floor naked in the middle of the afternoon.”
“Well, maybe we should take this to a more appropriate room.”
“Like where, the dining room?” Alex teased.
Hudson laughed and stood up. “I prefer the soft bed over the hard table.”
Alex smiled as he held out his hand to her. He helped her up and they made their way to the bedroom, where they spent the rest of the day reconnecting.
Get your copy now at the new lower price of $1.99!
Tamaria Soana is middle-aged but feels like her life has just begun. She writes contemporary romance stories with a high heat level that always end with a ‘happily ever after’. Growing up, she loved to read and make up new places in her head to escape to. In her late teens she began writing short stories and poetry. It wasn’t until her late thirties before she began to spin a full story.
She’s married and a stay-at-home mom of two beautiful young girls. They reside in Western New York. Cuddling up with a good book under an electric throw is her way to escape the cold Buffalo nights.
Besides writing, she co-owns Shades of Rose Media and produces book trailers. Three of her book trailers have been featured on the USA Today’s Happy Ever After site.
Gregor Stone is a full-blood Gargoyle and the Warden at the New Atlanta Penitentiary. He spends his days running the prison and his nights looking for Unholy. With the recent discovery that Gargoyles can mate with humans, there is new hope for his kind. Gregor has found his mate, but there’s one problem: she hates him. He believes his happily ever after is still just a fairy tale.
Tessa Blackmore is Trouble with a capital T and has been since she was a baby. Tessa is a half-blood. Her father is a Gargoyle and her mother is human. The half-bloods have hidden themselves from the Gargoyles for centuries. Now that Tessa has found her mate in a full-blood, will she continue to hide, or will she give in to the pull of the mate bond?
Tessa is running from her past and the madman hell bent on catching her. As he and his army close in, Tessa is forced to turn to the one man she has tried to avoid for years: her mate.
Tessa was an idiot. Pure and simple. Why in the name of all that was holy did she agree to this? At least she was driving herself and wouldn’t have to rely on Gregor’s generosity when she decided it was time to go. And go she would. If tonight went the way she was sure it would, Gregor would pour on the Stone charm and seduce her, appealing to her inner shifter to mate with him. She had to be strong, not only for her sake but his as well. She had already let the family down by spilling as much information as she had about the human bonding. So be it. Rafael was King, and as such, he had to make the hard decisions, whether they be about territories, family disputes, or what diapers to put on his little Prince.
She didn’t need a GPS to tell her where her mate lived. When she first transitioned, she became obsessed with him. She followed Gregor often, sometimes to bars, sometimes to his home. Never did she get up the nerve to get close to him. Maybe it hadn’t been nerves, more like self-preservation. As time went on and she realized she would never be with him in the way they were meant to be, she stopped following. Watching him go out of town to meet other women had been too much. That was when she decided to hook up with Jacques. What a disaster that turned out to be.
Gregor’s property was secured tighter than a military fort. The gate was thick iron and the security box was state of the art, voice recognition. Since she had never been there, Gregor had left it open for her arrival. As soon as she drove through, it automatically closed behind her. The rumble of her Camaro was loud against the silence of the woods. She was surrounded by trees on both sides of the long, paved drive that led to Gregor’s home. She expected a log cabin to be nestled among the Georgia pines. What she didn’t expect was the massive log and stone structure that came into view as she drove out of a curve.
She put her car in park and just sat there. Holy Mother of Zeus. Tessa was in the midst of her dream home. Of course her mate would live in the woods in the type of house she had dreamed of ever since she was a little girl. She liked her house in New Orleans, but she had bought it as an investment. This… this house was what dreams were made of. Baking cookies with your little girl dreams. Sitting on the deck watching your mate throwing football with your little boy dreams. Relaxing in the hot tub after the kids had gone to bed dreams. Making love in front of the fire dreams.
The front door opened and Gregor stepped out onto the porch. He was dressed casually in faded jeans and a long sleeve Henley. The sleeves were pushed up showing his massive forearms. His feet were bare. Gods that was so sexy. He didn’t move toward her, just stood with his hands in his pockets, waiting. Tessa grabbed her backpack from the passenger seat and angled out of her sports car. She didn’t bother locking the door.
“Do you want to put her in the garage?” Gregor inclined his head toward the car.
Dammit, he was already being nice. “Nah, she’ll be fine out here for one night.” Tessa needed to remind herself that this was one night only. Though her curiosity was peaked at what he had in the garage besides his Hummer and Harley. She slowly walked up the steps and stopped, leaving an arm’s length between them.
Gregor took her backpack. “I hope you like Italian.” He opened the door, holding it for her. She stepped into the spacious, open room. The floor plan was perfect. The large family room opened up to the kitchen and dining area. There were windows everywhere including a large sliding glass door that led out to a deck on the back of the house. Even though Gargoyles weren’t affected by the cold, Gregor had a fire going. A large bearskin rug covered the hardwood floor in front of the hearth. She could already see herself naked underneath Gregor on that rug.
Faith Gibson lives outside Nashville, Tennessee with the love of her life, and her two-legged best friends. She began writing in high school and over the years, penned many stories, and poems. When her dreams continued to get crazier than the one before, she decided to keep a dream journal. Many of these night-time escapades have led to a line, a chapter, and even a complete story.
When Faith isn’t jotting down her crazy ideas, she can be found playing trivia while enjoying craft beer, reading, or riding her Harley.