She flew into his outstretched arms, resting her ear against the firm beat of his heart.
His body trembled. “Love you,” he whispered, nuzzling her hair, his hands were frantic on her back, pushing her shirt up, touching her bare flesh. “Loveyouloveyouloveyou, always, always, my Alice, my love.”
She purred, needing to touch him, to feel the hard press of his body again.
“Clothes off,” he said, and they were naked. He picked her up, pressing her against the wall. He lifted her, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist. The thickness of him rested against her aching opening.
So good. If this was a dream, death, she didn’t care. She never wanted to wake up.
“Hatter, I was sick.”
“Gods,” he sobbed and kissed her cheeks, her throat. “Gods, Alice.”
She gripped his face, forced him to pause and look at her. He needed to know. “I didn’t come back because of that. I almost died, but I came back for you. None of this matters if you don’t believe that.”
His eyes closed and he gently planted a kiss on her mouth, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips, and she knew he believed her. Alice’s heart thrilled.
There were no playful teases, no petting or sweet nothings whispered. This was primal need. He pushed into her liquid heat and her body was so primed, so ready the moment he slipped in fully she felt the quickening thrum of an orgasm. Her blood resonated, it moved through her like crystal song.
He was kissing her neck, his hands grasping her breasts.
“Love you, so much,” he muttered, taking her tongue, dueling with it. “Don’t ever leave me. Sorry I’m such an ass. Sorry I didn’t tell you why. Sorry for so much.”
She shook her head, feeling dizzy and lightheaded from the overwhelming sensation of him. He slid in and out, her legs tightened. She was close, her thighs started to shake.
“Never leave,” she mumbled. “Love you, so much too.”
Then they were there, he tipped his head back and roared. His hot seed came in torrents, flooding her body. His touch, his soul, it was hers. All hers.
He was her Mad Hatter and Alice was finally home.
Sneak Peek at GERARD’S BEAUTY
Book Two in the Kingdom series:
“Bad boys need love too…”
Betty Hart has had it with men. Jilted in love, her life now consists of shelving books by day, watching too much Anime by night, and occasionally larping on the weekends with her fellow ‘Bleeding Heart Rebel’ nerds. Men are not welcome and very much unwanted. Especially the sexy Frenchman who saunters into her library reeking of alcohol and looking like he went one too many rounds in the ring.
Gerard Caron is in trouble. Again. Caught with his pants down (literally) he’s forced to seek asylum on Earth while his fairy godmother tries to keep Prince Charming from going all ‘Off with his head’. Maybe, messing around with the King’s daughter hadn’t been such a great idea after all, not that Gerard knew the silly redhead was a princess. But his fairy godmother knows the only way to save his life is to finally pair Gerard with his perfect mate, whether he’s willing or not.
From the moment Gerard lays eyes on the nerdy librarian he knows he must have her, but Betty is unlike any woman he’s ever known. He thought Betty would come as willingly to his bed as every other woman before her, but she is a woman who demands respect and even… horror of all horrors… love. Is it possible for a self-proclaimed Casanova to change his ways?
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Sneak Peek at The Witching Hour
Grim Reaper Saga - Coming September 2012
Chapter 1
The haunting, eerily lyrical strain of Type-O Negative filled the alleyway like a siren’s wail. Beckoning. Unrelenting. Deathly.
Undetectable to all mortal and immortal alike, Cian stood within the shadows of Club X. A popular club that catered to the interests of the supernatural’s. The outsiders. The vampires, werewolves, and witches.
Behind the club, the inky black of the San Francisco bay stretched for miles. City lights sparkled and danced over the obsidian water like will ‘o wisps.
He waited, scanning the milling faces. An electrical shiver of heat sizzled down his spine; his transformation had begun. He despised this part most, seeing the victims alive, happy and smiling. Centuries of watching death was like a poisonous cancer spreading through his soul, devouring him whole. He was tired, but still he trudged on. What else was there for someone like him? He existed in darkness, a creature born to night and madness.
Sounds of honking cabs, cable cars, and trotting horse drawn carriages warred with the knowledge that out there now lurked monsters of the worst sort. They were coming out to play, to feed, and to kill. The latter a trait he knew by heart.