Liron's Melody
Brieanna Robertson ISBN  978-1-936165-76-6


Word Count: 64,620
PDF Page Count: 195
Heat Index: Sensual
Does this book contain violence? No
Genre(s): Mainstream Romance, Fantasy

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Release Date: 2-16-2011
Price: 5.99

Art heals, and one woman learns the true power of music.



A Julliard graduate and former member of the Philharmonic Orchestra, Melody hasn't played anything since her parents were killed in a tragic car accident. But when her friend buys her an old, weathered music score that seems to call to her, she is intrigued.
She knew that playing again would be a freeing feeling, but she never expected the action to open up a gateway to a world where creation and the arts are dominant and emotions are not frowned upon, but embraced. And she definitely never expected to be tossed into the living room of a muse--a man who lives and breathes music, who can calm her with a touch and make her hear symphonies.
As Melody learns of Liron, his world, and his own loss, she begins to heal, feel whole, and find herself again. But when the connection to Melody's world and the muse world is severed, will the music Liron inspired, as well as the power of her love, be enough to reunite them? More importantly, can Melody find the strength within herself to face the past she has been running from and do what needs to be done for the future she longs to have?

Excerpt:
It was a mournful song, slow and dark, Gothic almost. She had planned to stop after the first few measures, but once she started, two things happened. Wondrous ecstasy coursed throughout her entire body as the music filled her soul once again, and her fingers moved over the keys with grace and ease, like she had never stopped playing. For one beautiful second, she felt like she'd come home. That reason alone was enough to keep her there, but something else happened. Something strange and all consuming.

While the sorrowful notes echoed through her empty house, her mind conjured up the image of a man sitting at a piano, alone in a candlelit room. She was looking at him from behind as he hunched over the keys, lost within the same notes she was currently playing. Long, shining, chestnut-colored hair spilled down his back and around broad shoulders that seemed burdened, as if they carried weight. That particular thing struck her because she noted that his shoulders looked the way hers felt. Heavy, tired, sad…

She focused on the image in her mind, more than happy to devote her attention to whatever her imagination conjured instead of the grief of missing her parents. The music filled her, swirled around her, along with the unbearable loneliness that emanated from the man at the piano. It was almost as tangible as hers, and her heart connected to him, whoever he was. An embodiment of her own pain and sadness, she imagined.

A chill ran the course of her body and the temperature in the room seemed to drop, which she thought was strange considering it was the middle of the summer. She ignored it as she continued to play, driven on by the gorgeous music and the enigmatic image in her mind. She found she wanted to know more about the person in her subconscious, the man brought to life by this aged score. It seemed he had a story to tell, and the only way to know it was to continue playing.

So, she did. She gave herself over to the notes and chords, lost herself within the vision in her mind until it seemed almost real. The temperature in the room continued to cool and the hair on her arms bristled. She felt a strange, tugging sensation around her heart, as if it wanted her to reach out to the man at the piano, touch him, soothe him, let him know he was not as alone as he felt, and maybe assure herself that she wasn't either.

As the music coursed through her and around her, she played with abandon. It was only when she shivered that she realized her eyes were closed, had been closed for quite awhile. With a start, her fingers fumbled on the keys, causing the pristine notes she had been playing to falter. How could she be playing the music in front of her without looking at it? Had she just improvised the last few minutes? She stilled her fingers, but the melody of the music continued on in her mind, echoing as if through a long tunnel. If she didn't know better, she would have thought it wasn't in her mind at all, but close by, and real.

Dampness touched her bare arms, and she swore she could smell the ocean, which made absolutely no sense considering she lived in Colorado, and nowhere near the sea. She looked toward her front door, wondering if she'd left it open and some kind of strange storm had rolled in.

She gasped and jumped so hard she almost fell straight off her piano bench. She squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed them with the heels of her palms. When she opened them again, everything was as it should have been, and the temperature in the room went back to normal. She stared at her empty living room, trying to figure out what she had seen. For a second, the half of the room she wasn't in had looked like some kind of stone structure, like a room in a castle. It had felt cold and foggy, dimly lit with flickering candles, and in the corner where the door should have been, sat the man her imagination had conjured while playing the music. Only, she'd stopped playing, and he had continued.

“What in the world?” she whispered. Her heart pounded and her mouth felt dry. She glanced at the score of music and eyeballed it. She had never been an exceptionally creative person. Not visually anyway, in the way of dreaming up strange visions. Even if she had daydreamed now and again, they had never been so vivid that they had taken up residence in the room she was in.

Maybe she'd finally lost her mind. Or maybe she was so exhausted from Rob's hike of death that her brain was playing tricks on her. That had to be it.

But even as she convinced herself that was the only logical explanation, her heart still ached at the sorrow she had felt while gazing upon that man. She glanced at the keys, part of her longing to play again, to see if she could glimpse him a second time. Part of her was afraid to. What if she really was losing her mind? Had grief and isolation finally caused her to crack? If so, it probably wasn't healthy to continue entertaining the fantasy.

But…

The desire to play again was overwhelming, no matter how irrational it was. No matter if he was a complete hallucination of her deluded mind. She just wanted to see him again. She wanted to see him because, in their shared sorrow, for one brief moment, she had not felt completely alone.

Exhaling slowly, she placed her shaking fingers back over the keys.

Damaged Cargo

Sandra Sookoo ISBN  978-1-936165-54-4

Word Count: 71,532
PDF Page Count: 220
Heat Index: Erotic
Does this book contain violence? yes
Genre(s): sci-fi/fantasy romance
   

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 When survival is of the utmost importance, it's best to shoot first and ask questions later, especially if you won't like the answers.

 The 22^nd century is heinous and finding a comfortable life in the Levinese Galaxy grows increasingly difficult. 

Emma Gardine, one of a handful of female pirate captains in this throwback Victorian society, begs, borrows, steals and cheats her way through the planetary system on the hunt of a profit.  An expert of guarding her heart and keeping people out, she never shows remorse and uses people until she gets what she wants, but the hope for a normal life glimmers just beyond her reach.  Then she meets Tarik Vartouth and her world splinters with new emotions and possibilities. 

Tarik survived the murder of his sisters and the collapse of his laid-back existence.  He's sick of the mandatory breeding programs for genetic supremacy on Nazulara that send innocent people to death and is looking to campaign for democracy for his species.  When the opportunity to befriend Emma is presented, he takes it and makes a play for her ship in order to carry out his own plot for revenge against his father--the Premier and ruler of the planet.  Stakes are raised when sparks between him and Emma fly.   Now their future, as well as the planet's, hangs in the balance.


These two independent and strong-willed people must learn how set aside their own issues in order to work together for survival and the greater good--unless they kill each other first.

Excerpt:
      Ominous creaks and groans emanated from deep within the bowels of CS4450-9 Beta.  Traveling at high warp speeds through deep space for too long took its toll and it would only be a matter of time before they'd need to dock somewhere for repairs.
      Captain Emma Gardine entered the turbo lift and punched the button for the bridge.  She always hated the identifier for the cargo ship.  It may not be as important as other vessels in the galaxy, but it deserved a name.  Between her and the crew, they called CS4450-9 Beta the Wraith Orchid because a slippery crew who hauled rare, sometimes priceless cargo commanded it.
      Sometimes by orders but most times illegally, which was what made them successful pirates.
      The four levels of mostly cargo holds zipped past in mere seconds.  The top level of the ship held the bridge as well as the sleeping quarters for the crew and a tiny galley kitchen including a common lounge area.  When the doors to the lift slid open, Emma followed the metal catwalk and entered the bridge, her home away from home--wherever that was.  It'd been so long she could hardly remember what it felt like to be anywhere besides the ship.
      “Hey gang.  What's the word?”  Her gaze swept the dark interior of the cozy space, taking in her three-member crew.  “How far away are we from Nazulara?”
      Her navigator and second-in-command, Tomis, barely glanced away from the monitor that bathed his face in a green glow.  “No longer than thirty minutes, ma'am.”
      “Excellent.”  Emma dropped into her chair and grimaced when it squealed.  The whole place was falling apart.  Ignoring the wear and tear woes, she propped her booted feet on the console in front of her.  “Once we arrive and cycle through the annoying paperwork, let's hit the bars and taverns.  First round's on me.”  She frowned, noticing a scuffmark on the toe of one boot.  Damn.  She'd just appropriated the footwear from an unsuspecting traveler she'd met at the last port they'd stayed in.  They were sexy as hell, came to the knee, and made concealing a weapon extremely easy.
      Perfect for one of only a handful of female space pirates in the galaxy.
      “I'm up for that.”  Their weapons expert, Darcy, popped a stick of chewing gum in her mouth.  “We've been on this bucket for far too long this time out.”
      Emma grinned.  “I agree.  First thing I'm gonna do is find a real bathroom.  Using these pop-up commodes and two minute showers is getting old.  I want a leisurely bubble bath, a large glass of wine, and maybe a couple of chocolate truffles.”
      “Ya, old school chocolate.  Not that crap we picked up on Adaris-5.  Tasted like wax.”  Darcy tapped her monitor with a blue painted fingernail, which matched the exact color of her eyebrows and pigtailed hair, another “gift” she acquired on Adaris-5.  “Energy level on the photon cannons is holding at eighty-six percent.  Our cargo is too heavy and we're using too much power keeping it cool.”
      “What the hell are we hauling, anyway?”  Tomis swiveled around on his chair.  His eyes were wide and dark.  “I was pretty high when we left.”  His laughter died off as Emma lifted an eyebrow.  “What?  Adaris-5 has no tax on drugs.”
      Zach Isis looked over his shoulder with a wicked gleam in his eye and a secretive smile on his lips.  Their cargo master and supply man, he knew the exact contents of each container loaded into the hold.  “Well, in the refrigerated compartments we're storing some sort of liquor and twenty slabs of grain-fed burfim.”
      “Burfim?” Emma was puzzled having never heard the term.
      He shrugged.  “I guess it's kinda like an Earth cow.  Sells well in the markets.  We've also got six full freight boxes of salt in the regular hold, which will bring some serious cash once we land.  Nazulara has no salt water on the planet.  All fresh water lakes and rivers so they're desperate for it.  And,” he held up a finger, “Since we stole it from the good, slow-witted people of Adaris-5, we'll be bringing in a hundred percent profit.”
      As laughter echoed in the chamber, Emma swung her feet off the console.  Her soles hit the metal floor with a thud.  “What do you mean we stole it?  I thought we bartered coal for the salt?”
      “That's the genius of it, Captain.”  Zach cocked his cowboy hat at a rakish angle over one eye.  “Those shipping containers were sitting unattended on the loading dock.  I waited a few minutes but no one came for them so me and Darcy just rolled them into the belly of the Wraith Orchid.  Now we'll make more cash because we still have the coal, too.”
      “Damn it, guys, we'll never get legitimate contracts if you keep doing stuff like this.”  She shot to her feet and paced between their chairs.  With her fists firmly planted on her hips, her glare gave way at their expressions of shock.  “Who am I kidding?  The money's not in playing by the book.  Another couple of hauls like this and we'll be looking for a vacation spot.”
      “Good one, Captain!”  Darcy popped a bubble and the crew erupted into laughter again.
      Emma grinned at the familial gaiety.  She'd learned long ago that following the rules only netted her pain, heartache, and empty pockets.  Ever since the day she became a space pirate, she'd set her own hours and crawled the galaxy looking to steal anything that wasn't bolted down--even some that was thanks to Darcy's penchant with high-tech gadgets.  Everyone had a price and her special skill in life was finding those dollar signs.  The more profit they brought in, the better all their lives would be.
      And they wouldn't need to keep running.

 

 The Prince's Knight


Rachel D. Thompson
ISBN 978-1-936165-55-1

Word Count: 34,998
PDF Page Count: 109
Heat Index: Erotic Romance
Does this book contain violence? yes
Genre(s): Fantasy/Erotic Romance/MMF

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Becoming the prince's bodyguard was supposed to be easy. No one warned him to guard his heart...


After receiving a crippling injury, Sir Aric finds himself reassigned to the crown prince's royal guard. He thinks it will be an easy job, but Prince Matthew turns out to be a spoiled brat, too used to getting his own way. Within the first week, the prince disappears and almost gets himself killed in his desire to be a part of the ongoing war effort at the southern edge of the kingdom. Matthew's brief taste of battle is more than enough, making him ready to settle down and attend to matters of state. Marriage tops the list of those, but in the meantime, Matthew and Aric find themselves drawn together by irresistible forces. Until Matthew's chosen bride arrives.


Excerpt:
   Both men stared after her for a moment, perplexed.

The Lord of the Dead
Cynthia Carole
ISBN 978-1-936165-51-3
Word Count: 31,210
PDF Page Count: 101
Heat Index: erotic romance
Does this book contain violence? Yes
Genre(s): Fantasy/ Erotic Romance

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Will she risk everything for love?


Blurb: The King is dead in the Dragonhall, and now the heirs gather for the Ascension. Marc Fitz Edward is more than just the family black sheep; he’s a necromancer from beyond the protective Veil. The townspeople think he’s evil, the high priest wants him ambushed, and his cousin, the prince, has an even more merciless scheme. Marc’s only protection is his dark magic, and Judith, a sworn knight of the realm. But in the end, will Judith forswear her oath to save Marc, or will she let him die to preserve her kingdom?


Excerpt:

The silence of the room suddenly seemed thicker. His thumb moved to her full lip and softly slid across the pink flesh. He didn’t dare breathe. She was so beautiful. Her dark hair, half loose, curled around her face and neck. Her breasts heaved with each breath beneath the soft silk of her dress. He could see the darker nipples pressing up against the fabric.
Her summer-painted eyes lit her pale, marble-smooth face. He wanted to see them glowing with happiness. He longed to melt that deep reserve and watch her smile.
With slight trepidation, he took her into his arms. Her lithe, strong body softened against his. Her breasts were firm and yet soft, touching his chest, her breath sweet in his mouth as she leaned up to be kissed.
Slowly, he lowered his lips to hers. His fingers tightened on her arms. Nothing in his life had ever felt so right as kissing her. Her pliant lips parted as passion roared up inside of him.
His tongue pressed in, and he licked her teeth, plunged into the warm, soft interior of her mouth. The moment stretched out. He didn’t push further and yet didn’t pull back. Still, his loins flooded with fierce need.
She moaned against his mouth, and need overtook his caution. He tasted her deeply. She eagerly met him movement for movement until they both had to part for breath.
“Wait!” she gasped.
“I’m sorry,” he said while his erection strained against his clothing. “I’m sorry.” What a lie! He wasn’t a bit sorry. He wanted to savor her again and again. No one had inspired him so.
“Don’t be sorry.” She gave him one of her fierce frowns. “I just want to remove my sword.” She unfastened her belt and set the heavy weapon on the floor.
He laughed. “Now that is one I haven’t heard before.”
Her hands gripped his robe and tugged him closer. “Where were we?” She kissed him with more passion than he had thought possible. His blood pulsed hot in his veins, his manhood strained.

Authors: Phil Partington and Anastasia Rabiyah
Cover Artist: Anastasia Rabiyah
Genre: Fantasy/Sensual Romance
Length: Novella 36,468 words, 112 pages PDF
Heat Level: Sensual. Violence.
ISBN: 978-1-936165-49-0
Released: 07-07-2010

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Love comes in many shades of darkness…and light.

Rumor has it that a woman in white waits for the unsuspecting men of Lott’s Vale and ensnares them in a web of lust and control. Matthew isn’t sure if he believes it or not, but when he encounters the beauty and falls prey to her whims, his simple life is soon turned upside down, his perceptions twisted into a sensual reality of pain and pleasure. Will he free Deshay of the woods from her curse, or will he be another of her slaves, forever bound to her cruel will?

EXCERPT:

“Hello, Matty.”

Matthew grew dizzy as he first looked upon the girl he had once called his love. As truth would have it, he still loved her, though he didn’t realize it until now. Time had aged her to womanhood, as it’s apt to do, but her eyes still sparkled with the youth of the girl he remembered. He recognized the dimples that folded just so at the corners of her smile and the smooth, curly streams of ebony hair that cascaded from the top of her head.

“Alex?”

Her nervous smile widened. She kept silent for the moment, but the smile was all that was needed as far as Matthew was concerned. It spoke a thousand words at once, and he thought he may need to lie down to fully process what was said with that smile. He ran to her and planted a soft kiss on her forehead, nose, then lips; perhaps too forward, but how could he hold back his passion? It seemed appropriate, too, since she accepted his embrace and returned his kiss with her own.

Countless questions of how she’d spent the past eight years, why she’d left without saying goodbye and what she was doing there now all got pushed aside and out of mind. All that mattered now was that she was here. She was really here.

He held her for a moment longer and then unlocked the shop. They entered together—he’d keep the store closed today and, keep the shades closed too—he kissed her again. “Alex.” The word sounded strange, yet delicate spoken aloud, and he smiled as it tickled his lips.

“Yes?”

“Alex…” he said again.

“Yes?”

“Just that,” Matthew said. “Just you.”

She smiled up at him, her brown eyes searching. "I was afraid you had forgotten about me."

He shook his head and bowed to kiss her lips again. He couldn't kiss her enough times. That she let him do it, melding to his body when he drew her close, showed him she felt the same as he did. It was a primal drive within him. He knew they ought to take things slower, but he couldn't help himself. And neither could she. Her soft curves enticed him, her firm breasts, hidden by her dress, pushed to his chest. He rubbed slow circles against her back. Her lips parted. She moaned in his mouth and he pulled back. "How could I forget you, Alex?"

She blushed and followed when he backed into the room where he kept his bed. There they could have privacy in case anyone came to knock, not that he thought anyone would. She was like a waking dream, too good to be true. "You're so beautiful," he told her, when he sat on his small bed. She seated herself beside him and clasped his hand.

“You've grown up,” she said. “Taller...so handsome." She bit at her bottom lip, releasing it slowly, moist and glistening. He wanted to taste her, push her down into his mattress and kiss her all over. He knew the day would be wasted, but Matthew wondered if it was really such a waste. His body tingled with excitement, and he couldn’t stop his heart from pounding.

• 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.