His To Protect by Stacey Lynn is releasing in TWO WEEKS

Below, you will see the PROLOGUE and FIRST CHAPTER

 for the upcoming release,

 His To Protect.

His To Protect is currently available for pre-order on 

all retailers and will release on Juy 12th! 

It's the second book in a new series called

 The Fireside Series, 

but each novel is a complete standalone.

Trina

I left a week ago.

One week of constantly looking over my shoulder while I walked down the sidewalk.

One week of keeping one eye on the road and one on my rearview mirror while I drove away from Kentucky.

One week since I had been free, yet I still felt caged.

Antsy.

Paranoid.

Yet in one week, I had learned things about myself I didn’t know before.

I was stronger than I thought.

I was braver.

I was done.

Done being his punching bag. Done being his perfect wife in our perfect home in our perfect neighborhood with our perfect friends.

I never wanted to be perfect again.

I wanted to figure out who I was now, without him. Without the chains that used to keep me in my elegant prison—a home that was designed before I ever entered his perfect little picture, waiting for me to move into as soon as he slid a giant rock onto my finger.

I would never return.

I just had to make sure he never found me.

Because if he did, I knew I would not survive.

His to Protect

Amazon US:    bit.ly/ProtectAz

iBooks:     apple.co/1S6Bq9b

Nook:  bit.ly/protectnook

Kobo:      bit.ly/protectkobo

Chapter 1

Trina

The air was crisp, the lingering stickiness of summer’s humidity changing into the first hints that fall was just around the corner. With one hand on Boomer’s leash, I tugged him along the sidewalk, pretending we were out for a late-night stroll through the cobblestone streets of Latham Hills.

I hadn’t intended to stop so close to Kentucky. Detroit was only a day’s drive from the home I’d fled just last week. But as soon as I arrived there, intent on heading to Canada and leaving my past behind, something about the little area on the north side of Detroit spoke to me.

It was old and beautiful, rich with a history I wanted to understand and explore, and that’s what so much of this journey was about for me.

Figuring out who I was and what I loved.

So even though I was close to crossing the border into a new country, I felt drawn to stay awhile.

Heal.

Wait for the bruises on my cheek to fade, and my ribs to cease aching when I moved too suddenly.

Then I’d move on to Canada, where, hopefully, Kevin wouldn’t be able to reach me.

“Come on, Boom.” I tugged on his leash again and led my boxer into the alley, where I’d been giving him food from the leftovers of restaurants for the last week. Leaving my old life with a small supply of cash forced me to stretch my budget in ways I never had before. Dog food wasn’t expensive in the grand scheme of things, but I only had a few hundred dollars left and I was trying to save every penny I could.

I’d make it up to Boomer with a bag of his favorite gourmet food as soon as we got settled somewhere. Besides, he didn’t seem to mind eating leftover burgers from the sports bar that we walked by on our first day.

I won’t lie. The delicious aromas that drifted into the air had called to me more than once, too. It’d been ages since I was “allowed” to sink my teeth into a juicy burger, but a good meal was just one more thing I couldn’t afford right now.

It had been gas station hot dogs and pizza slices for me, something else I hadn’t been allowed to eat before. Although now they were something I didn’t want to eat again.

With a cautious glance down the sidewalk, I ensured no one was watching before Boomer and I headed into the alley. There were lots of restaurants along this main stretch of road in Latham Hills, but few alleys where I could hide while I let Boomer nosh on grilled beef.

“Come on, pup,” I whispered, and gave another quick tug on the leash. He followed me eagerly, already licking his chops while his wild tail flopped back and forth.

My dog could understand basic commands; because of his size, I worked hard to train him properly. But even at six years old, he still acted like a puppy most days.

He began to whine with anticipation as I led him over to the dumpster, where I dropped his leash and told him to sit. He listened immediately, his tail thumping against the pavement, while I pulled myself up to the top of the dumpster.

Dumpster diving. If only my mother or Kevin could see me now. I almost snickered at the idea even as I was grunting.

My required Pilates and cardio routines had done little to build the muscle needed to lift the heavy metal lid.

With a final push, I used all my strength to shove the top open, cringing when the metal banged against the brick wall.

I dropped to my feet, waiting for any sign of life as the sound echoed in the dark, narrow alley.

Next to me, Boomer began to whine, his large, pink tongue drooping from his mouth.

“Hush,” I whispered, and gave him a quick, calming rub. “Just another minute, boy. Now, stay.”

His face rubbed against my thigh and I quickly pushed him away before I climbed back up on the dumpster and reached in for a bag of garbage.

Shame slithered through me as I grabbed the first black bag I could get my fingers on.

A week ago, I was coming home from a manicure appointment and running twenty minutes late for dinner, and I knew exactly what was in store for me.

Now, my chipped nails were clinging to plastic bags of garbage. I had no idea what the future held.

Even with the shame, this life felt better.

The bag slipped from my grip just as I lifted it over the edge and fell to the ground.

“Crap,” I muttered, looking at the mess of spilled garbage at my feet, and felt my cheeks heat with fear at the small infraction.

I was so tired of jumping at every mistake I made, quickly looking over my shoulder to see if anyone noticed. If he noticed.

I also didn’t swear. It’d been ingrained in me that a lady cursing was completely unacceptable, even if I used to curse all the time when Kevin and I first began dating.

He quickly cured me of the horrid habit once we married with a backhand to my cheek when I yelled “Shit” one night after dropping a vase.

I only dropped it because he’d yelled at me for not having the dinner table properly set by the time he came home.

It was the first night he hit me.

It most definitely wasn’t the last.

Boomer growled and I quickly squatted down to tear open the bag.

Another shiver of shame rippled through me as I realized what I was doing, what I’d become.

Dirt was visible under my chipped fingernails. I tried not to think about it as I dug through the bag until I found a plastic container filled with what I assumed was a patron’s forgotten leftovers.

I opened it to find exactly what I was looking for.

I reached out to hand it to Boomer when a bright flash of light caught my attention right before a loud clanging sound reverberated through the alley.

“What in the hell is going on out here?”

I jumped backward, falling to my backside, and quickly scrambled behind Boomer.

In front of me, a monstrous shadow filled the doorway just down from the dumpster.

I couldn’t see anything except the black outline of a large figure, but it was clear he had his hands on his hips.

In front of me, Boomer looked up at the stranger and let out a loose growl before he dropped his head and went back to eating.

Some guard dog.

I’d have scolded him for it if I hadn’t been so terrified about the stranger, who reached down and picked up something that looked like a brick.

“I’m sorry,” I stammered, and began searching for Boomer’s leash, but he must have been sitting on it.

Typical dog. He wouldn’t leave until he was good and ready.

“I’m so sorry,” I said again and scrambled to my feet. At five six, I wasn’t exactly short, but I had nothing on the man in front of me. “We’ll go . . . it’s just . . . he needs to eat, but that’s no excuse, I understand . . .”

My voice trailed off as the man dropped the brick in the doorway, propping open the door to the restaurant, and stepped into the alley.

“You’re the one who’s been digging through the crap in my dumpster?”

He took another step out of the doorway. With the light off to his side, I could just make out his features. Shaved head, tanned skin, sharp jawline. Big as a truck.

Nothing about this said it was safe for me to be here. I wrapped my fingers around Boomer’s collar, fruitlessly trying to pull him away from his food.

He whined and jerked forward. I stumbled from his sudden movement and hissed in pain.

My other hand wrapped around my ribs as I flinched.

“You hurt?” the man asked and stepped closer.

“Stop.” I thrust out my hand and looked away from him and down at my darn dog who wouldn’t stop slurping up french fries. “We’ll go, I swear, and we won’t come back. I just . . .”

Darn it. This was horrifically embarrassing. I never actually planned what I would do or say if I got caught digging through trash.

Tears welled in my eyes and I shook my head.

If I turned now and walked away, I doubted this mountain of a man would follow me. Or he would, but if I let Boomer go, he’d slow the man down.

Not with his teeth and a vicious bite. He’d probably lick the man to death. Or tackle him, wanting to play.

Cover Reveal::Omega City: The Forbidden Fortress by Diana Peterfreund

Omega City: The Forbidden Fortress

OMEGA CITY: THE FORBIDDEN FORTRESS will be out in February of 2017. 
Gillian Seagret is not having a great summer. Her mother’s come back from Asia with plans to move Gillian and her brother across the country, and her conspiracy theorist father is away promoting his new book on Omega City—without her! Though Gillian and her friends were the ones to find the lost doomsday bunker, no one seems care about their thoughts on the whereabouts of its creator, Dr. Aloysius Underberg, or even learning the truth about the Shepherds, a mysterious organization ready to stop at nothing to keep Underberg—and Omega City—a secret.

All that changes when Gillian and her friends are invited to speak at a lecture series at Guidant—an advanced technology company. Gillian feels like they’re finally being recognized for their adventures. The Guidant campus is full of wonders, from self-driving cars to robot waiters, and the future-focused employees seem like worthy heirs to innovators like Dr. Underberg.

But there are secrets here, too—a radio station that plays nothing but coded numbers, and an island that doesn’t appear on any map. And when Gillian and her friends uncover evidence that the Shepherd conspiracy goes deeper than anyone suspected, it’s up to them to infiltrate the Shepherds’ secret base and expose them… before it’s too late.

An Excerpt from The Forbidden Fortress

“Eureka Cove is a man-made lagoon partially formed from what used to be polluted wetlands,” the boat explained as we motored away from shore. “After Guidant Technologies bought this parcel of land, they engaged in a massive undertaking of environmental cleanup and reclamation. Now the Cove is a model of green engineering, and the adjoining wetlands is home to over two dozen threatened or endangered species.” “That’s so awesome,” Savannah said. “As elsewhere on Guidant Technologies’s Eureka Cove Campus, the cove is off-limits to gas-powered vehicles. This boat is fitted with a solar-powered battery and electric backup. It will automatically monitor battery levels and alert passengers when it is time to return to a charging station.” “I love the future.” Eric grinned. “Okay, who’s first in the tube?” “Gillian and me!” Savannah cried. She’d already stripped down to her bathing suit and was clipping her life jacket back on. “Come on, let’s go!” I pulled off my shorts and left my sandals in the bottom of the boat. “Are you sure you’re okay driving alone?” I asked my brother. “What do you mean, driving?” Eric replied. “Boat, we’d like to go tubing.” “Please utilize location clips on passengers’ life preservers,” said the boat. “The motor will automatically cut off if passengers are thrown from the tube. Speed overrides in place. Enter the water when ready.” The boat slowed to an idle, and we tossed the inflatable tube overboard. On top of the tube were a pair of magnetic monitors that attached by a cord to little clips. Those must be the location clips. Savannah and I hopped on the tube and attached the clips to our jackets. There was enough slack that we could still bounce around on the tube without pulling the magnets free, but if we fell off, we’d take them with us. “This is so cool,” Eric called as the boat floated a little way away. “There’s even a monitor here for the tension on the line. I don’t need to do anything.” “Activating voice control for engine speed,” I heard the boat say. “Well,” he corrected, “hardly anything.” Once the line was taut, Savannah gave the signal and the boat took off. We squealed and clung to the tube, laughing our heads off at every bounce and kick from the wake. Our path took us on a wide arc through the cove, so we could see the buildings of the Guidant campus flash by on the left-hand shore. To the right was a large, heavily wooded island, and as we got closer I could see a few buildings shrouded among the trees, as well as a rocky outcropping with what looked like a radio tower on top. “This is awesome!” Savannah yelled in my ear. She held up her thumb to Eric. “Faster!” The boat sped up, then began to swing us around to the right, when suddenly, the motor cut off. Momentum swished the tube closer to the boat, and we bobbed up and down on the waves created by the wake. “What happened?” Savannah called to the boys. “We’re not out of power already, are we?” Eric was peering at the screen. “It says something about proximity limits.” I paddled over to the boat and hauled myself aboard. “Maybe it’s saying we’re too far off to return before the battery runs out?” I peered over his shoulder as he tapped the screen. “Oh, that’s weird.” “What?” “Well, all the buildings on the campus are marked on this map,” I said, pointing out the labels on the digital map on the screen. Our boat was a blinking red dot in the blue lagoon. To the left were all the streets and landmarks of the campus. “But nothing’s marked for the island.” “Maybe nothing’s on it,” Eric said. He banged his fist against the side of the control column. “Start, you stupid thing.” “No, there are buildings!” I said, and pointed at the island, but whatever I’d seen before now was hidden in the trees. You could still catch sight of the radio tower on the outcropping, though. “Proximity limit reached,” the boat said. “Please specify destination.” “We’re not going to a destination,” Eric said to the boat. “We’re going tubing.” “Proximity limit reached,” the boat repeated. “Alternate route required.” “Is that all?” Eric asked. “Fine then, just turn left.” “Location clip disengaged,” the boat said. “Please reattach to continue.” “Here,” I said, undoing my clip. “You take a turn. I don’t like watching you argue with an inanimate object.” “Fine,” Eric said, snapping the clip to his life jacket and jumping off the side. I pressed my hand to the boat’s sensor. “Welcome, Gillian Seagret,” said the boat. “Proximity limit reached. Alternate route required.” “Okay,” I said. “Keep going back in the direction of the docks.” The boat made a sharp turn to the left and motored slowly away from where Eric and Savannah bobbed on top of the tube. Once the line was taut, the boat said, “Activating voice control for engine speed.” I checked on Eric and Savannah, who gave me a thumbs-up. “Faster,” I told the boat, and it complied. I set us on a weaving pattern, so the tube could bop along back and forth over the wake, and smiled when Savannah and Eric screamed in delight. Howard was paying us no attention, crouched low over his notebook, his arm protecting the pages from sea spray. “What are you doing?” I shouted to him. “Trying to break the code, of course. But I’m not getting very far.” “Give yourself a break,” I said. “You only got that book last night. Real code breakers use, like, computers and things to decrypt stuff.” “I didn’t get enough of a sample to use letter frequency,” he said. “Plus, there’s no reason to think that the code is even a substitution cipher.” I assumed that was all code-breaking talk he’d picked up from his book. “Maybe it’s not even a code,” I said. “It was just random letters and nursery rhymes.” “Faster!” Eric called from the tube. “Faster,” I said to the boat, which responded immediately. “But that’s how numbers stations work,” Howard explained. “They intersperse their coded messages with songs or other messages that contain the keywords, and only the people receiving the message are supposed to know how to decode it.” “So you think that radio station we heard was a numbers station?” I shouted over the engine. As the boat neared shore again, it made another wide turn to head back into the lagoon, and Eric and Savannah bounced over the wake behind us. “Are you trying to kill us, Gills?” he screamed. “Blame this screwy boat!” I called back, then turned to Howard. “It played numbers, didn’t it?” Howard asked. “Have you ever heard a radio station like that before?” “If someone’s actually broadcasting code from a radio station in Eureka Cove, don’t you think the encryption would be too advanced to be broken by a twelve-year-old with his first code book?” I grabbed onto the rails as the boat veered right again. “Guidant is a tech firm. Encryption is what they do.” Again, the boat engine cut off and I glanced up, sure I’d see that either Eric or Savannah had fallen off the tube. “Proximity limit reached,” the boat said. We bobbed up and down on the surface of the lagoon. The prow of the boat now faced the dark island. “Please specify alternate location.” “What is with this thing?” I asked, tapping the screen. “Why does it keep steering us to the limit?” I checked behind us to see Eric and Savannah waving and gesturing to me. “Just a second!” I said. Behind them I could see the docks and the beach, not so far away. Not nearly as far as it had been when I had been out on the tube and we’d traveled up the shore. “Boat,” I said carefully. “Redirect us to go parallel to the shore.” The motor started up again, and the boat veered left. “Voice control activated.” I checked on Eric and Savannah, then ordered the boat to speed up when they gave me the signal. As we sped away from the docks and up the coast, I ordered the boat to go faster and faster, to weave back and forth in the water so it got closer to the campus shore and then farther away, but I was always careful to keep a far distance from the island. “Hey, Gillian,” Howard said. “Can you see if the boat’s radio gets reception for the numbers station, please? Eric wouldn’t let me.” “You asked Eric?” “Yeah,” he said. “We were arguing about it right before you came onboard.” He meant right before the boat stopped. And earlier, in the car, when Howard said the words “numbers stations,” the car went and found one for him on the radio. “Radio station,” I said out loud, to test my theory. The boat veered right, then promptly slowed. “Proximity limit reached.” I looked ahead of us, at the radio tower winking through the island trees. It might not be marked on the map, but there was a radio station on that island. And, as the boat said, it was off-limits.

FOREVERMORE by Kristen Callihan- Review- 5*

Title: Forevermore

Series: Darkest London #7

Author: Kristen Callihan

Genre: Paranormal Romance
Rating:* * * * *

Publishers: Forever

(June 28, 2016)

Paperback: 336  pages

ISBN: 978-1455581702

FTC Disclosure: ARC provided by the publisher via Netgalley

Isolated and alone, Sin Evernight is one of the most powerful supernatural creatures in heaven and on earth. As an angel of vengeance, he hunts down the darkest evil, but when his long-lost friend, Layla Starling, needs him, he vows to become her protector. Even though she will be horrified by the man he has become. 

Now a famous singer and the toast of London, Layla believes that Sin is only here to guard her from rabid fans and ardent suitors. However, the truth is far more sinister. Desperate to avoid losing Layla a second time, Sin will face a test of all his powers to defeat an unstoppable foe - and win an eternity with the woman he loves.

Definitely another 5 star win for Kristen Callihan!
I've been reading this series since book 1 came out and it's one of my favs, one of the few that I read immediately upon release. It has paranormal romance and historical fiction mixed in with a dash of steampunk, three of my favorite genres. Callihan as usual has intermingled these genres in yet another wonderful tale. While we've met Sin before, Layla is a new and unique creature called a "Damnation". As she knows nothing of this paranormal London, she is surprisingly adaptable to what's going on in her life. I loved the romance between Sin and Layla, but felt a sense of sadness as this series comes to an end. I loved the brief interactions with many of the couples we've met in the past and am really going to miss this wonderful world. Make sure you read this series in order so that you get the whole picture. I almost wish I hadn't read them all so I'd have this whole series to binge read.

Hair In All The Wrong Places By Andrew Buckley Blog Tour/Review/Giveaway

What has he done?

What’s happening to him?

And what on Earth is that smell?

For Colin Strauss, puberty stinks. Blackouts, hallucinations, and lapses in memory are the perils of growing up werewolf.

Worse than that, Colin worries he might have had something to do with the recent attacks on the townspeople. He may have eaten a person. It doesn’t matter that it’s someone he doesn’t particularly like. What kind of boy goes around eating people?

Foolishly, all Colin can think about is how Becca Emerson finally kissed him for the first time. Yep, hormones are afoot. Yikes!

But girls will have to wait. Collin better get himself under control before someone else ends up hurt or worse . . . dead.

Hair in all the Wrong Places by Andrew Buckley
Release Date: June 7, 2016
Publisher:  Month9Books

OMG! Such a fun read. Love, just love the title.  A very fast read that I thoroughly enjoyed. I love mysteries, especially murder mysteries and the fun 
twisty ride  through this book was awesome. Werewolves are my fav shifter and I'm always interested to see how an author handles this world. My granddaughter will be given a copy of this book as she's grown beyond the R L Stine books and I can't wait to discuss this story with her.

Andrew Buckley attended the Vancouver Film School’s Writing for Film and Television program. After pitching and developing several screenplay projects for film and television, he worked in marketing and public relations, before becoming a professional copy and content writer. During this time Andrew began writing his first adult novel, DEATH, THE DEVIL AND THE GOLDFISH, followed closely by his second novel, STILTSKIN. He works as an editor for Curiosity Quills Press.

Andrew also co-hosts a geek movie podcast, is working on his next novel, and has a stunning amount of other ideas. He now lives happily in the Okanagan Valley, BC with three kids, one cat, one needy dog, one beautiful wife, and a multitude of characters that live comfortably inside of his mind.


Andrew is represented by Mark Gottlieb at the Trident Media Group.

Giveaway Information:  Contest ends June 24, 2016 

⦁ One (1) winner will receive a scrabble tile book cover charm 

(US ONLY)

⦁ Five (5) winners will receive a digital copy of

 Hair in the Wrong Places by Andrew Buckley (INT)

http://www.chapter-by-chapter.com/blog-tours/

What's new from JULIETTE CROSS!

When desire bites, there’s no 
patience for a slow burn. 
AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER NOW!

SOULFIRE & WAKING THE DRAGON:

BOTH ARE ON SALE FOR ONLY .99 EACH!

Lagniappe... A little  extra

Down here in Louisiana, "lagniappe" means something that is given as an extra bonus or gift. Here's an exclusive short from a secondary character in VALE OF STARS. 

RAFE: A Vale of Stars Short

 
Clang!

A sweet sound. The iron door closed behind me and muffled the mayhem and filth who paid good money to watch men bleed. Just another night in the fighting pits for the drakoros. 

Blood-spattered and spent, I marched down stone stairs into the washing chamber beneath the fight floor. I’d done my duty, as always. And my slavemaster would be paid handsomely for it. Violent cheers for carnage, butchery, and more bloodshed erupted from above.

 “Another win, Rafe?” Maddox sat on a bench, naked but for a towel tied at the waist, hunched forward with his elbows on knees.

“Aye.” I ambled toward the shower which rained down constantly during the matches. Stripping off my tunic, I stepped in and flattened both palms to the cold stone, letting the hot stream pour down my back. It was scalding. I wanted it hotter. Hot enough to make me feel pain again. Make me feel anything.

“Did you kill him?” asked Maddox.

I washed my opponent’s blood from my face and body then turned to let the water stream over my wings. After stepping from the showers, I flapped them once to shake off the excess water and grabbed a towel from the wall.

“Not this time,” I finally answered, noting that I’d broken the skin on three knuckles.

“Hope Gull or Serbius finish one off. Or we’ll all be in the shit. Kapheus doesn’t like it when they all live. He’s got a rep to keep up.”

I toweled off my head and beard. “Kapheus can suck my dick.”

Maddox laughed. He had a large gash on his right shoulder. The blood had clotted and was no longer seeping from the wound, but it needed tending.

“You need a healer,” I said, tying the towel around my waist.

“The Icewing will be along soon.”

The outer gate through the corridor grated against stone as it slid open.

“That must be her now,” said Maddox.

It wasn’t a white-winged healer that walked through the door but one of the guards, a stout Woodblade. I sneered at the man. I hated him the most, one of my own clansmen who enforced my captivity. For what? Blood and money.

“Beast,” he bellowed with military precision, standing at attention. “You are called for.”

I hated that fucking arena name. Kapheus knew I hated it. And yet, he’d labeled me like his animal, proving who was master.

“Oh, yeah? Who’s calling?”

“Faustina Coalglass.”

Maddox tossed his head back with a bark of laughter. “The senator’s wife?”

The guard didn’t answer.

“You always attract the dangerous ones, Rafe,” said Maddox. “Why is that?”

I rolled my eyes with a grunt. “Tell her I’m indisposed.”

“She said she’ll wait,” replied the guard.

“I’m not sure you can blow this one off,” added Maddox. “Not her.”

With a heavy sigh, I walked toward the corridor. The guard blocked my passage with his steel baton and nodded toward the wall of clean tunics. I glanced at his baton then glared at him.

He lowered the rod and cleared his throat. “You must dress.”

“Does it really matter? She doesn’t care if I’m dressed.”

“Dress,” ordered the guard.

I contemplated crushing his skull between my hands then decided I didn’t want to die a slow painful death by whatever means Kapheus would create. Not today.

I dropped the towel and pulled a blue tunic over my head, which was too short and gaped low in a deep V. It wasn’t enough that I was a killer for the rich men of Drakos, now I had to be a whore for their wives.

A roar of cheers echoed from above as I strolled down the torchlit corridor. Through the bars of the gate up ahead stood a vision in an emerald-green gown. A plunging neckline revealed full breasts. A nice handful. Not remotely covered by her black velvet cloak. Long, dark hair fell to one side, exposing her pale, slender neck. Her shiny, black wings were slightly parted at her back. Cat eyes watched me with undisguised lust. I gripped one of the bars and leaned close.

“You’ve called, Mistress. And I have come.”

“So I see.”

“What is your will?” Though I knew exactly what it was.

“You are a fine fighter, drakoros. I admire your style.”

“Do you? And which style is that? The kind where I beat my opponent’s face until it’s unrecognizable? Or where I break his wings and permanently paralyze him?”

The guard at my back tapped his baton on my shoulder. If he touched me again, I was going to shove that rod up his ass.

“Guard, I would like some privacy out here with the Beast.”

“I am sorry, Mrs. Coalglass. We cannot—”

“You must not have heard me.” She cut him off with cold precision. The voice of woman who was accustomed to giving commands and having them obeyed. “I want privacy with the Beast. Right now.”

“Kapheus does not allow the fighters to leave the cell until all matches are done. The other guards must attend the matches, you see—”

“I’m not interested in your problems. I am Senator Titus Coalglass’s wife. I can have your balls cut and skewered for dinner if I so choose. I want the Beast in that private room. Now.” She pointed toward one of the chambers which was kept ready for trysts such as this. Every fight arena had them to please the wealthy women who wanted a more intimate taste of sweat and blood.

Suddenly, I liked this woman. She was about to get me on the other side of these bars before the brawling was over.

Kapheus was relentless in keeping to his rules. It was the only way to ensure his captives remained captive. These underground games for the richest of the rich using slaves as fighters were illegal. But no one cared. Not the clientele at least. We were their darkest entertainment, satisfying their lust for blood as well as the flesh.

I remained still, waiting for the guard to make the wrong decision. Praise the gods, he finally did.

“Yes, Mrs. Coalglass. But the key is kept on your side. Over there on the wall.” He held his baton at the ready, daring me to make a sudden move.

Kapheus wasn’t so stupid to leave keys in the hands of one guard, knowing we could overpower him in the cell. There were guards at another gate outside who would’ve opened this one once the order was given following the final match. Then the troop of guards would escort us out to the armored wagons for departure to the next city and the next fight.

The senator’s wife had used her beguiling charms to bypass them and saunter down here on her own. I’d have to get past them myself somehow. The outer guards carried Volt guns—a human-made weapon which harnessed electric power to kill a Morgon instantly, using his dragon DNA against him. These brutal bastards carried the damn things to ensure no drakoros escaped alive.

But this was it. I’d gladly die trying to get out of this hellhole.

The woman took the keys and opened the gate, standing in the door like a goddess of perfection. I smiled. She smiled back.

“This way, Beast,” she said, handing the keys to the guard.

He followed close behind me. I pretended to be enamored only with my prize for the night, following her like a dog to his bone. Once we were both inside the chamber, which was covered in pillows and sofas and silk draperies, I heard the guard pulling the door closed.

Lightning-swift, I spun, gripped the edge of the door, jerked it wide and grabbed the man’s throat with my other hand. He swung his rod but I caught it in my fist, yanked it from his grip, and slung it to the floor. It bounced and clanged on stone. His eyes rounded with fright. I twisted his body around, curled my arm around his neck in a choke-hold, and squeezed.

“Go to sleep,” I muttered as he scrambled and flailed his arms, unable to reach me. He slapped the air blindly. His wings fluttered, one pinned against his back by my body. Within a minute, his arms went limp then his body. And his wings. Finally unconscious, he slid to the floor. I stood and stared across at the vixen who’d saved me.

She hadn’t moved. Hadn’t even flinched.

“Do you plan to do the same to me?” she asked quietly.

“No.” My chest rose and fell swiftly, not from the exertion but from the adrenaline pumping through my veins at this sudden chance at freedom.

“I could scream for help,” she said.

“Yes. But you won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m going to give you something your senator could never give you.”

“Oh, really? And what might that be?”

“A memory to warm you on cold winter nights. Faustina.”

It was forbidden for us slaves to speak to the aristocracy without being spoken to first. It was also forbidden to ever call an aristocrat by his or her given name. We were instructed to only call our female suitors by “mistress.” But this woman wanted a rough tumble in the dirt and bloody hands on her body. She wanted to break the rules and wanted me to break them for her. I planned to.

I walked toward her with determined steps. She backed away slowly, unpinned her velvet cloak and let it fall to the floor. Her gaze followed my movements as I stripped off the tunic. I could hear her heart pounding and smell her desire.

The backs of her knees hit a chaise sofa where she then sat. She stared up, her eyes devouring every inch of me.

“No. On your feet, Faustina.”  I lifted her in my arms and crushed my mouth over hers, licking in with swift strokes.

She gasped when I pulled away abruptly.

I ordered, “Open your wings wide.”

She did.

I took one step back. “Turn around and grip the back of the sofa.”

She obeyed instantly. Without hesitation, I lifted the hem of her dress and ripped her pricey silk gown all the way up the back past her ass. Now she was the one breathing fast. Especially when I opened the flaps of her torn garment and slid my palm up her spine till I gripped her shoulder.

“Don’t you move. For now, you’re the slave. My slave. Aren’t you, Faustina?”

She whimpered but didn’t speak.

I slapped her perfect ass. “Who’s the slave, Faustina?”

“I—I am.”

“That’s right. Now hold on tight.”

Then I gripped her hip and thrust inside her, finding her more than ready for me. She cried out.

“Go ahead,” I said. “Yell all you want, little slave. It doesn’t matter. Right now, you’re mine.”

Then I gave her the ride she came for. Hard, fast, and rough.

The scaly sheen of her black wings glittered under the torchlight as she stretched them wide. I moved my hand from her hip to grip a wad of her silk gown, the fabric tearing more with each pounding thrust. She whimpered each time I hit home until she stiffened and moaned loud and long. I gripped both her hips and held her fast till we were both done.

Afterwards, I pulled away and shouldered on my tunic, then found that fool’s baton on the floor. The senator’s wife had righted herself and was pinning her velvet cloak back on, conveniently concealing the slit up the back from her ankles to her ass.

She angled her cat-eye gaze at me with a satisfied smile.

“Woman, tonight I fly for freedom. If you plan to stand in my way, I will hurt you. Make no mistake.”

“Do not fret, Beast,” she said, stepping close. She spread her palms over my chest and slid one hand under the V of the tunic. “You have earned anything you wish tonight. Kiss me.”

Strange woman. That lusty look told me she was up for more adventure. Perhaps even helping a slave escape. I fisted my hand in her lovely, fine hair and kissed her hard, letting her bottom lip slide out from between my teeth when she pulled away. She licked the spot. And smiled.

“Follow me.”

I stepped over the unconscious guard and followed her out into the corridor and up the steps to the outer door. She turned and waved for me to duck inside the dark chamber next to the door. I did. She wrapped three times on the square of glass in the iron door. Within a few seconds, it opened.

“Mrs. Coalglass. I hope that you were satisfied with your visit tonight,” said the yellow-winged Sunsting as he held the door open for her.

“Actually, sir. I wasn’t quite as satisfied as I’d hoped.” She leaned against the door frame so that the guard positioned himself with his back to me. “You see, the Beast was a bit tame for my standards.”

She glanced over the man’s shoulders with a wicked look, meeting my gaze. I shook my head.

Tame, my ass.

“I’m still hungry, you see. And I wonder if you and your partner could satisfy my appetite,” she cooed like the beguiling witch that she was.

“Well, I know that I could step away for just a—”

“No,” she said with cold finality, the tone of the senator’s wife cutting like a knife. “I want you both. Now.”

The guard pushed the outer door open and called out, “Tegan! Inside.”

The second guard entered. Volt gun at his waist. Faustina clutched their shirts and pulled them toward the empty chamber directly across from me. I inched into the hall, my heart pounding as the outer door slowly closed. But not slowly enough. I had only seconds before that door would close and my chance of escape would disappear.

Faustina’s giggle carried into the hall as she pulled them farther into the darkened chamber. I leapt on the instant right as the outer door was within an inch of shutting. But it caught on something. I looked down to find a satin slipper blocking the door.

I snatched it up, kissed the damn thing, thanking that wicked senator’s wife before I shot out into the dark. I stood on a mountainous ledge three stories high on the edge of Drakos, the city lights glittering like stars. This underground arena sat right on the edge of civilization in the founding city of the drakoros fighting pits. Our armored carriages awaited departure down below. While Drakos, this pinnacle of Morgon society, went about its business, men without means or family to find them were still being held in captivity, all for the pleasure of the damned aristocracy.

Cursing the past nine years, I spat in the dirt, took three giant steps, and leaped off the edge, stretching my wings, taking me higher into the starry night.

Too long. Too long I’d not felt the exhilaration of the open air, of the wind lifting me into the sky. I banked hard left toward Aria, the land of outlaws. I’d need cold weather gear before entering that frozen wasteland, and I’d have to fight to survive in the most unforgivable of terrains. But at least I’d fight for myself. Not for another man.

As I soared higher still, I opened my arms, smiling at the sensation of my hands cutting the wind. I rubbed the pads of my fingertips together, remembering the silk of Faustina’s gown. And I knew that no matter what happened to me from here, whenever I thought of silk and fine hair and small slippers, I’d think of her…and freedom.
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Meet more of Rafe and other characters in the upcoming release DRAGON IN THE BLOOD. Coming July 26, 2016.