• Author: Lila Pearce
• Cover Artist: Dawne' Dominique
• Genre: Fantasy/ Erotic Romance/Menage
• Length: Novella 
• ISBN 978-1-936165-41-4
• Heat Level: Erotic Romance  
• Released: May 19, 2010

 
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Anya Ohmara is back for another adventure in this sequel to Garnet Dreams. The garnet necklace that whisked her away to the hot sands of the desert has disappeared, and she still has no idea if her encounter with the hunky Bedouin, Muammar, was a dream or reality. She doesn’t have the time to care. She has only two weeks to put the finishing touches on her latest romance novel or she’s going to lose her contract. Secondary issues—doing laundry, showering, sleeping, leading a normal social life—are all pushed down the priority list as she slaves away to meet the deadline.

Vanessa, on the other hand, has more time with her male colleagues than she cares to deal with. An unfortunate effect of being a part of the smallest archeological expedition she’s ever heard of is that if she doesn’t get along with her boss and the intern, she’s out of luck. Her boss refuses to bring in more help, so Vanessa is stuck with the two of them and the over-sexed bartender at the local watering hole as her only romantic prospects. The future does not look bright in sunny Costa Rica.
Valentine’s Day looks dismal and lonely for both women.

Anya manages to pull herself together in the nick of time, but not without making a complete fool of herself in front of the Mail Express deliveryman. Again. Her one consolation is that she finished in time to experiment with the next set of jewels from Vanessa. This time, she finds a pair of amethyst earrings that whisk her away to the home of an affluent Greek statesman. Once more naked and alone in a strange time and place, Anya is mistaken for a renowned courtesan. She has to think quick when the deception is discovered, or face the anger of an Athenian noble.

"The Assantra kept many women in her palace, some from all over the lands. They were beautiful, mistress, but…"

She lifted her head to peer down at him. Their gazes locked. She saw the wonder in his blue eyes, the lost look of a man mesmerized. "Say it."

"None like you."

As he stared at her, his mouth slightly ajar, Althyn realized something about herself. Beauty was one thing, but her mermish blood changed what men saw, made her appealing in a way she couldn’t fathom. Suddenly her father’s words, when she’d found him in the jungle standing over her mother’s remains, made sense. She sat up and pushed a braid from her shoulder. "You would do anything for me, wouldn’t you?"

He licked his lower lip with the tip of his pink tongue, his eyes fixed. "Anything you ask."

She stood and walked around her slave. She traced his bare shoulder with her forefinger, marveling at this newfound gift. Certainly, she hadn’t held this strength over her father, but maybe their shared blood negated its power. Her hand slipped up Lainious’s neck and across his tense cheek. She furled her fingers in his thick curls and hummed.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back in ecstasy. "Your voice," he said, breathless. His shears fell from his grip and onto the wood.

Lured to find out more, she knelt before him and cupped his face with both hands. She sang a light melody her mother had taught her as a child, a sweet, lilting lullaby in a tongue she had no name for…until now.

He is handsome, she mused, thinking that his black hair reminded her of her father. He was more muscular though, not as sinewy or lean, and his skin wasn’t as dark. With the pads of her thumbs, she traced his lips and leaned closer, somehow caught in the spell she wove as she sang. The man remained helpless, his pupils dancing behind closed lids, his increasingly heavy exhales tickling her fingertips. What would it be like to kiss him? To force my mouth over his as my father did to my mother?
She leaned in. Her chest brushed his. He flinched, and she dipped her face so that their lips grazed together.

Author: Rachel D. Thompson
Cover Artist: Anastasia RabiyahGenre: Paranormal RomanceLength: NovellaISBN 978-1-936165-39-1Heat Level: Sensual RomanceViolence

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Shanna dreams of becoming a level-five witch. Only one thing stands in her way—her ability. Attempting to conjure a low-grade imp brings forth a terrifying demon straight out of the nine hells. Worse yet, he claims to be tied to her through a contract formed with her late father. Who is the demon Alecandros really? He seems to know far too much about her...

EXCERPT:
“Are you all right, little witch?”
She wasn’t. A demon stood so close to her she could feel the unnatural heat baking off his skin, coming off him in waves. Her muscles had tensed up so much she didn’t think she could move, even to defend herself. Of course, any spells she’d memorized had flown right out of her head anyway. They wouldn’t do her any good.
He picked her up before she could fall again and retrieved the jar from her limp grasp. He set it back on the shelf.
“Clumsy little witch.”
She gasped as he slung her over his back, steadying her with a hand on her rump. He took the stairs two at a time, and she bumped along with his unsteady gait, her view obstructed by his back.
They passed through the kitchen and into her bedroom. Dried potpourri filled the air with the scent of lilacs, an aroma she favored. He unslung her and after a short ride through the air, she landed on a soft surface. Her bed. She grabbed handfuls of the yellow comforter, sure it would soon be splattered red.
His face appeared in her view at the side of the bed, his forehead wrinkled. “You okay?”
She scrambled backwards, rumpling the sheets and comforter into a ball around her feet. Her head banged against the wall. “Ow!”
Rubbing the back of her head and trying to hold back a sob, she stared at the demon. His image doubled in her vision as tears threatened.
“Why don’t you just kill me and get it over with?” she choked out.
He cocked an eyebrow. “What makes you think I’m going to kill you?”
She thought that should be obvious, but maybe he needed clarification. “You’re a demon.”
He sighed and shook his head. “I’m not that kind of demon. Tell me something, little witch. Why did you summon me?”
The question caught her off-guard. She sniffled. “What?”
“It’s a simple question. Demons are usually summoned because the summoner wants something. What. Do. You. Want?” He enunciated each word, as if speaking to a half-wit.
“I didn’t mean to summon you.”
“Oh. I see.” He sat on the bed with his legs folded underneath him. Then he smirked. “Then you shouldn’t have drawn my symbol within the circle.”
“I didn’t—” she began, but he cut her off.
“I’ve been summoned by many witches. But never accidentally.” He gave her a sly, sidelong glance, his eyes smoldering.
The temperature in the room rose about ten degrees. He got off the bed so he could execute a sharp bow. “If I’m an accident, allow me to introduce myself. I am Alecandros. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
After giving her sore head one more rub, she folded her arms.
“Do you even know what you’ve summoned, little witch?”
“It doesn’t matter. As soon as I figure out how to send you back to wherever you came from, I will.” The brave words lost some of their edge when her voice wavered.
“And why would you want to do that?” he asked in a dangerous tone.
She sounded uncertain even to herself. “You’re a demon. You belong in another dimension.”
“I do?” He spread his arms. “Do I look like a demon to you?”
She stared at him. He looked a few years older than she did, and his blue eyes had adopted a more innocent look. No, he didn’t look much like a demon now. Until his eyes flashed to black and back again.
“Let me show you what witches usually use me for,” he whispered, sliding closer. His hand on her ankle made her jump.
“Stop it.” Her voice sounded strangled, even to her.
His hand slid higher, bringing her skirt with it as he leaned over her. “Why? I promise you’ll enjoy it.”