Title: Secret Worlds: A Paranormal Romance Boxed Set
Genre: New Adult, Paranormal Romance
Expected Release Date: June 29, 2015Summary:
Limited Edition, includes:
Taken by the Beast by C. Kressley and R. Hamilton
Women who look a lot like Charisse are going missing. And the man this beauty is falling for may be the beast responsible.
The Forever Girl by R. Hamilton
Sophia gets more than she bargains for when she finally decides to trust a shapeshifter.
Summoned by Rainy K.
Dimitri can’t reveal the paranormal bond controlling him, and Syd won’t tolerate his secrets.
Purgatory by S. Stec
A sex-hungry myth with no name, no flesh, and no identity …unless it wears one of you.
The Pandora Principle by N. Cosper
As a descendant of Pandora, Cassi must discover if her lover is one of the evil spirits she hunts before all her friends die.
Heart Song by S. LaFantasie
When incredibly handsome Marren frees Relena, there’s a catch.
Changeling by D. Herbert
As a changeling and a witch work together to restore order in Fairy, they discover that love, like magic, casts its own spell.
Shiftless by A. Easterling
After years of suppressing her inner predator, Terra meets a shifter who forces her to reclaim her wilder side.
The Black Parade by Kyoko M
Poltergeist Michael is the key to saving Jordan’s soul from hell, but can she handle the cost of her salvation?
Haunting Echoes by C. Faron
Will Amaia’s clan kill her ex-fiancé before she learns whether he returned from the grave for love or revenge?
Braving Fate by L. Hall
Diana and Cadan fight demonic forces and a deadly passion that has lasted centuries.
Trinity Rising by J.E. Taylor
Damian and Naomi are desperate for victory against the devil, but one wrong step could trigger Armageddon.
Moonlight by K. Salidas
Good girls don’t wear fur, fight over men, or run around naked, howling at the moon. But Fallon’s not a good girl.
Lash by L.G. Castillo
Lash must choose where to place his trust–in a home he fought so hard to regain or in a forbidden love he can’t bear to lose.
Between by L. Swallow
Alek could kill Rose with a kiss. Finn, with a touch. Pulled into an intense affair with Alek, Rose discovers her connection to Finn threatens them all.
The Devil’s Fool by R. McClellan
When vampire Boaz gives Eve the one thing she never had–love–she falls into a world of greed and seduction.
Spark Rising by K. Corcino
A runaway Spark and the agent arresting her ignite a revolution to end their people’s enslavement while resisting the electricity between them.
Ruby’s Fire by C. Stine
On the run from a desert cult, Ruby must choose which handsome stranger to trust with her heart and her darkest secret.
Cursed by L. Leroux
Isobel has been hiding an uncanny ability her whole life–until the day she must use it to save herself from a madman.
Hunted by A.J. Colby
With Agent Holbrook’s help, Riley races time to stay ahead of a crazed werewolf killer.
Vigilant by A. Lawson
Ari stumbles into a world of crime and vigilantism while discovering the one man that sets her heart on fire.
The Devil's Food by Rachel McClellan
After waving goodbye and closing the door, Boaz turned to me, his body inches from mine. “You didn’t have to use magic tonight.”
I swallowed. “I know.”
“Then why did you?”
“It was fun.”
“It was, wasn’t it?” He grinned, something alight in his eyes.
His gaze dropped to my lips for the briefest of moments, but enough to make the magic swell within me again, taking my breath away.
“I have somewhere I need to be,” he said. “Do you mind if I call it a night too?”
“Of course not,” I stuttered, feeling suddenly stupid. Maybe the kiss we’d shared earlier had only been amazing to me. I faked a yawn. “I was going to go to bed anyways.”
“Very well then,” he said and disappeared behind the door I wasn’t allowed behind.
“No, it’s not very well,” I whispered as I turned to go up the stairs. My whole body was tingling and yet numb at the same time. I glanced down at my feet. They were still there and moving, yet I felt like I was floating.
I spun a few steps before I danced into my bedroom and closed the door behind me, trapping me in a dark room. I reached for the light, but then stopped. My arm lowered to my side. Breathing in deeply, I focused on the darkness, the way it crawled over my skin and the way it breathed on my skin, whispering seducing words I couldn’t understand but could feel.
I opened my eyes as realization dawned on me.
Darkness felt good.
Purgatory by Susan Stec
I spread out like a shadow on pavement under the feet of the unsuspecting woman working her corner in the seven-hundred block of South Orange Blossom Trail. Her name is Jane, and I will be wearing her by morning.
As she drags me along, I watch, listen, learn . . . and I think about Gaire. Although I knew something was different about him, I'd never, for a moment, expected Gaire to be a wendigo. Damn, talk about having a penchant for bad boys. That little proclivity might chalk my 'no killing humans' rule up to multiple charges of aiding and abetting before this insanity ends. And it will end, badly, if I don't get Gaire out of my doppelganger head. I know I should just forget him—I'm sure he's forgotten me—but Gaire is the first and only being who has made me feel real, alive, and, well, human. I'll be damned if I'm giving up on that.
As I stare up at Jane from the pavement, I'm thinking how perfect this chick would be. I could head back to Leesburg, she would stay in Orlando on her street corner, and our paths should never cross. Unless it's in a morgue somewhere—a street-walker's life is a hard one.
In her early twenties, Jane is blonde and tan, wearing a lewdly short skirt and a lacy bra barely covered by a leather vest. Black boots with four-inch heels caress the undersides of her knees as she struts toward a car pulling up to the curb a few yards down from the streetlight on her corner.
I cozy up closer as Jane leans toward the black sedan, filling the window with the contents of her lacy bra.
Both hands now on the window of the car door, Jane is doing her thing, enticing, pimping her carte du jour, negotiating à la cart—palatable little hors d'oeuvres or entrées off the full-service menu—and distracting, while she slowly removes the pistol at her back, reaches down, and slides it into her boot.
I slither upward off the pavement, over the front tire, another moving shadow on a street accustomed to shadows.
Haunting Echoes by Caethes Faron
London, February 1623
The skin offered little resistance to her teeth. A bit of pressure and the blood started to flow. Tangy, sweet warmth filled her mouth and coursed down her throat all the way to her stomach, comforting, soothing the fire in her veins. This was heaven. She was dead, and this her reward.
Her racing mind calmed as she drank. Thoughts organized themselves. Killing should be harder. Less pleasurable. Every second she drank this man’s blood drained away his life. There was no question of stopping. She craved every drop. The boning of her stays pinched as she drank faster.
The flow of blood thinned. The vein was running dry. The breathing beneath her slowed. A few more swallows and the life she held in her hands would be no more. A few more gulps and maybe her lust would be sated.
His body hit the ground with a hollow thump.
“Did you get your fill, my girl?”
The blood made its way through her body, lulling her into contented drowsiness. Obscuring fog consumed her mind. She knew the man talking to her, but his name was just out of reach.
“Yes. Thank you.”
“Of course. Anything for you.” His blue eyes scanned her face as if he expected to find something. She didn’t know what.
The body at her feet laid askew before the crackling fire, limbs sprawled in unnatural positions. Gray eyes stared blankly ahead. The only life in them came from the reflected firelight dancing in their glassy depths. She felt a chill and looked away. “I think I want to sleep now. Just for a little while.”
The blue-eyed man nodded, beaming. “Yes, my child. You must sleep.” In one swift movement, he lifted her into his arms. As he carried her out of the room, she couldn’t help staring over his shoulder at those eyes. Those gray, lifeless eyes that, only moments before, had gazed at her with the strangest expression.
Between by Lisa Swallow
Alek faces me and I shiver; from the water cooling my neck and shoulders, and from his proximity. His expression holds a frightening intensity, darkened eyes filled with concern and something unknown. An unexpected desire for his touch shudders through, the arousal edging out the fear.
"I’m going to kiss you," he says.
"I don’t think so!" But the image flies into my mind, igniting heat into my weak body. A body telling me what a great idea it would be to feel those full lips I've stared at more than I should pressed against mine.
Alek rakes a hand through his hair. "But I don’t want to."
"Wow, thanks. I’ll give it a miss then." Heat of embarrassment replaces the desire, and I turn away.
"But I should. I’m not going to force myself on you, but I’m trying to help you."
"Help me what? Understand how unbelievably arrogant you are because you think I want to kiss you?" I snap, spinning back to him.
"No, to help you stay here." There's an earnestness at odds with the usual Alek.
"Honestly, when I wake up tomorrow, I’m gone."
I jump in alarm at his vehemence, eyeing the front door. "Jeez, you’re weird."
Alek rubs his nose and fixes his eyes on my mouth. He inhales and tenses, as if preparing to do something stupid and dangerous, like jump off a cliff. This strikes me as odd. I mean, a lot about tonight is beyond odd, but the Alek I’ve got to know doesn’t seem the type who would deliberate these things.
"Okay, I’m going to do this. If you want me to stop, just push me away."
Before I can respond, Alek takes hold of my shoulders. His lips tentatively touch mine and static arcs across my face. The lightning-struck feeling spreads as he takes advantage of my parted-mouthed surprise and crushes his mouth to mine. I try to pull away, the intensity of the charge spreading into my body frightening me, but Alek has one hand in the small of my back and another at the nape of my neck, holding me steady. At every point our bodies are in contact, heat of a kind I've never experienced flows; with each passing second, the stronger the urge to have Alek hold and kiss me like this until I can't breathe overpowers. I close my eyes; in my mind’s eye, white light blinds my thoughts, tripping the switch on a desire so strong I fight against pulling my clothes off, and then starting on his.
I grab Alek’s head in return, digging my hands into his scalp, and delve my tongue into his mouth. I want this. Him. Touching, kissing, tasting, everything. All I can focus on is the powerful energy flowing from his lips to mine, drawing away the exhaustion and filling me with vigour. Alek loosens his grip on my head then disentangles my fingers from his hair.
I stagger backward as he moves away and rest against the wall. "What the hell was that?"
The Pandora Principle by Noree Cosper
A small box of bandages sat on the cart with Q-tips, and antibiotic ointment. Mercer came up behind me, wrapping one arm around my waist while grabbing the bandages with his other hand. He kissed my cheek, causing my stomach to flutter.
“I’ll do it,” he said. “I want to take a look and make sure it’s not too bad.”
“It’s fine,” I pulled away from him. “Just a few small burns.”
He turned me to face him and began unwrapping the gauze on my arm. “I have two free hands.”
I bit my lip as the last of it slipped away, revealing the bright red, oval burns around my tattoo and the nickel sized thumbprint on the tail of the fox. As Mercer turned my wrist to inspect the wounds, my tattoo shimmered in the light, giving a rainbow haze like light on oil. He sucked in his breath with a mall whistle and glanced at me raised eyebrows.
“How did you get these burns?” he asked.
I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “Really hot water.”
“Uh huh,” He unscrewed the tube of ointment and spread some on a Q-tip. “Interesting pattern.”
I really needed to work on my lying. “Yeah.”
The gelled liquid felt cool for all of second before my skin heated it. A strange tingling passed through me where Mercer’s fingers touched. I stiffened as it set my teeth on edge. He pulled my arm close to his face and studied my tattoo with a furrowed brow.
“Interesting,” he said.
His fingers brushed against the face of the fox and the buzz turned into a jolt of electricity, causing my whole arm to vibrate and burn. My tailbone slammed into the cart, knocking it over, as I flew backwards and was stopped by the wall. My shoulders and head bounced against it and landed on the floor with a soft thud. I groaned, trying wave away the dancing lights around my face. My whole body was humming so hard my teeth were on edge. Shit. I got to my feet and braced myself against the wall with a pant. Mercer stood up from the opposite side of the couch with his jaw set. His gaze found mine.
My laugh held a hysterical edge to it. “It figures. I meet a seemingly decent guy, and he turns out to be a god.”
“A pandoran,” he gave a ghost of his old smile. “I knew there was something special about you.”
I took a few faltering steps forward and raised my hands in fists. “Let’s just get this over with.”
He raised his hands in the air. “I don’t want to fight you Cassi.”
A pressure built up in my chest and everything from yesterday crashed down around me. Tears pricked at my eyes as my throat closed up. I couldn’t do this. I stumbled back, pulled open the front door, and ran towards the stairwell at the end of the hall. Had I just slept with the god responsible for James’s death?
When I was a child, my friend and I were convinced that our neighbors were abusing their children. And we were determined to help them. When I asked my mother about them, she said I was too young too worry about such things, but in my mind I wasn’t.
The next day, my friend and I waited until we were sure no one was home at our neighbors house. We then broke in (door was unlocked, but still) to their home to look for evidence we could take to the police. The house was a disaster like nothing I had ever seen before. It wasn’t until I was standing in all the chaos that I realized I didn’t know what I could give the police that would prove the children were being abused. It was in that same moment that I realized the dangerous predicament we had just put ourselves in. What if the family came home?
My friend and I bolted, never to speak of our breaking and entering ever again. As for our neighbor’s children, weeks after we had snuck into their house, they were taken into protective custody. I learned two things that day. 1. I will always do what I can to protect children. 2. I am a horrible detective.
I made G-strings and fancy outfits for strippers at a bar called the Booby Trap in Winter Park, Florida. Going inside, stepping into the bowels of the dressing rooms was exhilarating and I secretly wished I had the guts to claim a pole, join the girls, tease and titillate. I loved the seedy environment, and smoky atmosphere, laced with seduction and desire.
Amaia, the heroine of Haunting Echoes, my book in the box set, is a vampire and really hates humans. My secret is, she was created while I worked at Disney World and was an outlet for my feelings while dealing with crazy guests. Dreaming about her and her disdain for humans got me through more than a few shifts!
I’m a grown man. I’m 6’2, 190lbs, and can bench press my entire body weight. I was on the football team, the wrestling team, and I worked summers on farms where I welded, climbed on top of barn roofs, and rode horses.
Oh yeah, and I am scared to death of cats.
Don’t judge me yet. They’re so freaky with their weird agile bodies and eyes that glow in the dark for no good reason. They can jump insanely long distances, slither into spaces no human being could ever think of going into, and they always land on their feet for some reason.
Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not a cat hater, and I totally get why people would want them as pets. But I’ve never been able to shake the feeling that they’re watching me. Watching and judging.
No thank you.
For a long time, writing books was my secret. I was an underwater archaeologist, which is a fairly conservative field, and I didn’t want my colleagues to read all of the sexy stuff I was writing—not to mention my family members! Well, the cat is out of the bag now. My pen name isn’t very different from my real name and my family isn’t very good at secrets. Every single member of my family—grandparents, uncles, in-laws—has read my books AND the many sex scenes. The first time my uncles had a chance to tell me they’d liked my book (and give me a little hell) was at my grandfather’s funeral. It was both funny and embarrassing—but it was a lighthearted moment in the midst of some sadness, so I’m glad for that. And we’re all adults, right? At least, that’s what I tell myself whenever I think about family reading my sex scenes (or skimming, as I think most of them do:-).
If you haven't met me in person, you probably don't know that my most distinctive feature is my perpetually bare feet. My father likes to talk about how I used to run barefoot over gravel as a kid, and although my soles aren't quite so tough anymore, I've still walked along Tasmania's Overland Track, Britain's Pennine Way, and our own Appalachian Trail without shoes on. Just yesterday, I decided it was more fun to walk through a swamp barefoot than to don heavy boots, and my introduction to one of my neighbors came when he tracked my unshod footprints through the woods thinking he'd found a bear...only to stumble across a human instead. Back in college, I was the barefoot girl, although I did toe the line and abide by the rules to be shod in science labs and in the cafeteria. So, if you meet me, don't look at my face. Look down at my feet!