Special Sales and Giveaway

I’m always excited to be able to bring my readers a sale. Top it off with several other paranormal romance authors who are also having a sale and a giveaway and well what could be better?

Make Your Nights Sultry

When Crone is asked to protect Tessa from an evil warlock, the jinn is eager to accept, hoping to right a wrong from his past. But having the beautiful witch on his secluded island is a temptation he’s not ready for.

Tessa’s plan to regain her grandmother’s magic from the sexy jinn goes from bad to worse. Not only does her failing power get her into trouble, but the secret she carries won’t stay hidden for long.

When the jinn and witch collide, it creates a supernatural brew perfect for sultry nights

NOW $0.99

An excerpt:

“I’m in the mood for some entertainment,” Morden announced, pushing his chair back and standing.

Crone stiffened but said nothing. Things never went well when the warlock was bored and a female brought in tied as this one was; it usually meant Morden would rape her and make Crone watch. He schooled his features while his insides burned with fury, and he thought of ways in which to torture the warlock once he freed himself.

Morden moved to his cushioned armchair across the room, while his slaves pushed the dining table against a wall and rolled out several furs onto the marble floor. The lights dimmed to a soft glow, and someone released Crones chains. Not a good sign.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Morden asked with a slight chuckle in his voice.

“You’re a disgusting pig. Why don’t you for once pretend you’re a decent immortal, and let the girl go.”

The warlock’s mouth twitched. “Tell you what. I am a reasonable man and to prove it, I’ll let you fight for her life.” He snapped his fingers. “Bring the girl to me.”

Crone shot a glance at the witch whose black robe was yanked from her body, leaving her nude. A pretty girl with creamy skin, full breasts, and straight black hair that fell to her rounded hips. She definitely would cause a stir among the men. Morden’s minions shoved the girl and forced her to kneel on the furs at the warlock’s feet.

“Now. Fight the Sataric and win then I’ll free the female. Fail? She dies.”

Crone cringed. The Sataric, a beast of Morden’s own making, had a human body with the head of a bull and stood seven feet tall. This battle could go on for some time. Of course, he could refuse and let the woman die. After all, she meant nothing to him, but her pleading gaze bore straight to his soul. For once, he could save a life rather than take it.

“Bring on the beast and give me my power,” Crone demanded.

Morden snapped his fingers, and a rack of weapons materialized next to where the warlock sat. “No magic, but you may chose a weapon from this rack.”

Crone snarled as he walked over and made his selection. He picked up a battle-ax with leather strips that crisscrossed a dark wood handle, giving an excellent grip. It was long enough for a good swing. He flexed his biceps and wielded the instrument, delighted with the way it moved and how the bat shape blade’s edges cut through the air.

“I’ll take this one.”

Morden nodded. “Wise choice.” He waved to his minions. “Send in the Sataric.”

Crone knelt next to the girl. “What is your name?”

“Tara,”she whispered.

“Don’t fear, Tara. I have every intention of winning.” He jumped to his feet as the beast entered through the gate. “You are an ugly fuck.” He braced himself for attack.

Seven feet of pure angry beast charged him. Crone shifted to the right, out of harm’s way. One thing was certain, these were dumb creatures and predictable. He’d fought them before and won so was confident he’d claim victory this time. All he needed to do was be patient and stay out of the way of the enormous horns. Eventually the beast would tire. Again, the Sataric lowered its head and charged, but this time Crone was too slow. A horn caught him in the side and tossed him like a rag doll. Pain shot through him, and he hit the ground and rolled, losing his weapon. Blood poured from the open wound.

“Now that just pissed me off.” He pushed to his feet as the beast turned to make another run. Crone spotted his battle-ax in the center of the room. He made a split-second decision to run for it, dropping to his knees as he slid across the floor. Scooping the ax up, he leaped to his feet seconds before the beast was on him.

He swung.

The blade made contact just above the Sataric’s knee, taking his leg clean off. The creature dropped with a blood-curdling scream. Crone needed to hurry and finish or the beast would grow another limb. Before Morden or his minions could interfere, he wielded his weapon and sent the head rolling across the floor, leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

Crone threw down his weapon, ignoring his pain and the open wound. He marched toward Morden and Tara. “I beat your piece of shit pet, now let her go.”

Morden rose. “That was too fast.”

“Really? You should have picked a more fitting challenge. Face it, I’m the best fucking assassin you’ve ever had.”

“Today you will learn your place.” Morden grabbed Tara’s hair and jerked her to her feet, but she showed no pain or fear. Her nakedness obviously didn’t bother her, as she stood tall ready to accept whatever fate handed her. “I’ll free the witch.” He produced a dagger and before Crone could react, he planted it deep in her chest.

“You son of a bitch!” Crone shouted and dropped next to Tara, whose blood now stained the fur.

“I freed her of her miserable existence. She should be thankful to you for that.” Morden and his slaves vanished, leaving Crone alone with Tara.

He pulled her head into his lap. “I’m so sorry.” His stomach flipped as he realized he’d done this. He might as well have held the blade himself and shoved it into her gut. Images played through his mind of the many ways he was going to torture the warlock. “I swear to you here and now. When I am free, I will avenge you. He will pay for what he has done.”

She looked at him, her eyes clouding. “I-I believe you are a man of your word.” She coughed blood, and he gently wiped it away. “My family… Protect.” A rattled breath. “May my ancestors watch over you.” She drew her last breath, and he watched the life vacate her brown eyes.

“May your ancestors guide you home.” He kissed her forehead and vowed revenge would be his.

That’s right, over 20 authors have marked down their books until Friday so, HURRY!

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