Friday, February 13, 2015

FREEING THE BEAST (Book One – Taming the Beast series) by Tina Donahue

No more Mr. Nice Guy.


Magic is Becca Salt’s business, but it ain’t happening in her bedroom. The half-witch proprietress of From Crud to Stud performs miracle makeovers for paranormal creatures. Once she’s done with them, they’re out the door hunting for hot babes, not hanging around for a too-curvy, plain Jane like her.

Her newest client is hot, hung, mouthwatering perfection. What could she possibly improve upon?

Eric Diletto. Descendant of Cupid, bred for courtship, courtesy, and all that other gentlemanly junk. What has it gotten him? Dumped time and again for bad boys. He needs Becca’s help for an entirely different reason—regression therapy to release his inner beast. Grrrr.

Two potions later, they’re crawling all over each other. Becca aches for a man who loves her as she is, not because he’s under the influence. But Eric isn’t as impaired as she thinks. And he intends to take Becca here, there, and everywhere—anything to convince her his desire isn’t just the potions talking.

Product Warnings

A witch doctor’s nightmare. Contains potions with weird side effects, a sorceress with limited magical skills and a yearning heart, plus a minor god who wants to get down and dirty. Bad, bad boy!


Heat and humidity poured inside, along with the racket from the street party. Drunken voices mingled with throaty laughter, pounding drums and trumpets reaching then holding their highest notes. Becca’s pulse thumped in her ears, drowning out the other sounds.


The guy who’d come inside was something. At least six-three, he had the build of an athlete, lean and muscular with broad shoulders, narrow hips and powerful thighs. Without meaning to, Becca stepped closer, drinking him in. Classically handsome, he wore his hair preppy style, longer on the top, shorter on the sides. It was a warm chestnut brown streaked by the sun and slightly tousled, begging for a woman’s fingers to smooth it back.

Becca brought down her hand, suddenly realizing she’d lifted it.

His golden complexion spoke of days spent outdoors, possibly skinny-dipping in a pool, water streaming over his firm pecs and abs, being trapped in his nest of dark curls…his rock-hard cock jutting from it, inflexible as iron, sleek as a spear. Suppressing a shiver of delight, Becca took in his leather loafers, beige khakis and white shirt opened at the collar with the sleeves rolled up to mid-forearm.

Masculine yet civilized. Very nice.

Zoe, you did good. Aw, sweetie, more than good. She deserved part ownership in this place for having done such a fantastic job on him. This guy had been made over to the nth degree from…
Becca wasn’t certain what kind of demon he was, or his level in Hell, never having met him before the makeover. Maybe that’s why he’d taken so long to get here. He couldn’t pull himself away from the god he now saw in his mirror.

While Becca ogled him, he regarded the reception area’s feathery ferns and potted plants as though seeing them with different eyes. A mortal’s eyes. The room’s faux brick floor, coral walls and gas wall fixtures radiated warmth, an earthy, sensual feel in keeping with the area’s culture.

It was also decidedly romantic.

And the reason most of these guys signed up. They were having problems with babes and wanted a solution, even if it was painful.

Hissing noises came from behind a door on the right. On the left, a muffled groan sounded faintly sexual.

Could be that was why this guy was late. He’d already seduced a babe and had been reluctant to leave her.

Becca glanced at his fly, the thick ridge behind it. Some women had all the luck. She, on the other hand, had a business to run.

Reining in her desire, she joined him in the reception area. “Do you have any idea how late it is?”
He turned. His attention zipped from her flame-red hair, cut in a chin-length bob with bangs, to her dramatic makeup. Heavy black liner surrounded her blue eyes. Her maroon lipstick was just a shade lighter than black and quite a contrast to her pale skin.

He lifted his eyebrows slightly, then regarded the black silk top tied beneath her breasts, her silver navel jewelry, black harem pants, anklets, toe rings and high-heeled sandals.

Even at five-seven, and with the extra three inches the shoes gave her, Becca felt positively dainty next to him. Quite a feat considering she’d always been too tall and curvy. In school, they’d called her the f-word.

Well, fuck ’em, right? So she’d never be skinny or a beauty. Not like her mom. Unfortunately, Becca took after her dad. A great guy, but no hunk in the looks department.

“We can’t wait forever,” she said. “Let’s go.”

She headed down the hall. Hearing only her footfalls, Becca stopped and looked over.
He hadn’t taken one step in her direction. He was far too busy studying her ass. Intently. Appreciatively…if his crooked smile was any indication. How awesome was that?

Was it something Zoe had taught him?

“You coming?” Becca asked.

He actually blushed beneath his tan. What appeared to be carnal hunger blurred his expression as he regarded her. “Where?”

His voice was even deeper than the howlers that came here for treatment. Way huskier than Zoe’s when she got riled. Becca moved toward him again, drawn by his potent masculinity, until she forced herself to stop and pointed over her shoulder.

He approached with the grace of a well-behaved panther. Loose limbed and composed, not cocky or predatory. Shit. Zoe was a miracle worker.

“Sure,” he said.

Becca swallowed. His eyes were the color of honey with flecks of green. Given his laugh lines, he looked to be in his early thirties—if she was using mortal time—just a couple of years older than her.
Not that their ages mattered. Why should they? Once his photo shoot was over, he’d be gone. Back in bed with his babe.

“There.” She pointed to the side, trying not to drool over him.

He kept checking her out too and gave her another crooked grin. “There what?”
Damned if she knew. His adorable smile continued to tangle her thoughts. Becca lowered her head and took a deep breath. “Door on the right. Go in that room. Take off your clothes. I’ll get the photog—”

The rest of her words and all the spit in her mouth dried up as his fingers curled around her wrist, keeping her from moving away.

He murmured, “What?”

That voice. His touch. Her knees sagged. With great effort, Becca turned back to him.

He gave her a questioning look and waited.

Becca wanted to ruffle his long, dark lashes, kiss his silky eyebrows, then suck his lower lip into her mouth while she crawled all over him. “Briefs or boxers?”

He pulled back slightly, but didn’t let go of her wrist. “What?”

She cleared her throat. Her voice still jiggled and rasped. “What are you wearing? Briefs or boxers?”

He looked down as though to check. “Boxers.”

 “The stretchy kind or the baggy ones?”

He let go of her wrist. “They’re not that baggy.”

Hmm. She’d hurt his feelings. A nice human touch Zoe must have taught him. Like having him stare at a female’s ass, rather than simply grabbing it, to make her feel sexy and desired. “I’m sure they’re not. Still, we prefer the snug ones.”

The kind that would hug his fleshy balls and caress his rigid cock. On wobbly legs, Becca went to the hall closet and pulled out a navy pair.

“Here.” She flung them at him.

They landed on his deliciously broad shoulder.

Becca backed away. “Strip down, then put those on. We can’t screw around any longer.”

“Sure about that?”


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Available for pre-order February 8 

Ready to read March 10


About Me (You know you want to know!):

I’m an award-winning, bestselling novelist in erotic, paranormal, contemporary and historical romance for Samhain Publishing, Ellora’s Cave, Siren Publishing, Booktrope, and Kensington. Yay! Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised my work, and trust me, I’m forever grateful for that.

I’ve had my books reach finals in the EPIC competition, one title was named Book of the Year at a review site, and others have won awards in RWA-sponsored contests. I’m actually featured in the 2012 Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. Talk about feeling like a freaking star.

Before my writing career, I was the editor of an award–winning Midwestern newspaper and worked in Story Direction for a Hollywood production company. Outside of being an admitted and unrepentant chocoholic, I’ve flown a single-engine plane (scary stuff), rewired an old house using an electricity for dummies book, and have been known to moan like Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally whenever I’m eating anything Mexican or Italian.

 Yeah, I like to eat (burp).

You can check me out here – yes, I am everywhere!

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I’m offering one winner her (or his) choice of THREE of my backlist ebooks from this list:

1. Adored – RWA award-winning; EPIC 2011 Finalist; 4 Stars RT

2. Deep, Dark, Delicious – EPIC 2011 Finalist; Holt Medallion Award of Merit

3. Lush Velvet Nights – EPIC 2011 Finalist; Golden Nib Award

4. In His Arms – SIX 5 Star Reviews; 4 Stars RT

5. Sensual Stranger – 2010 Book of the Year (erotic); 4 Stars RT

6. The Yearning – Top Ten Bestseller

7. Take Me Away – #1 Pick, Miz Love Loves Books

8. Unending Desire – Best Book Rating LASR

9. SiNN – Nominated for Book of the Week LASR

10. Sinfully Wicked – Magnificent – Romancing the Book

11.  Claiming Magique – Top Pick – NOR

12. Illicit Desire – Four Stars Romantic Times

13. Come Fill Me – Five Stars – Guilty Pleasures

14. Losing Control - Four and a Half Stars - Sensual Reads

15. Shameless Desire - Four and a Half Stars - The Jeep Diva

16. Illicit Intent – Four and a Half Stars – Sensual Reads

17. Deep Within Me – Four Stars – Romantic Times

18. Seven Sensuous Days – Four Stars – Long & Short Reviews

19. Stolen Desire – Five Hearts – Novel Broads

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

Destiny by Celia Breslin. The Tranquilli Bloodline Series

Blackmailed. Betrayed. Sometimes Destiny Sucks.


In HAVEN, San Francisco nightclub owner Carina Tranquilli survives a vicious attack by her vampire family’s longtime archenemies. Several weeks later, as she struggles with PTSD and survivor’s guilt, supervillain Dixon resurfaces and kidnaps two of her best friends. To save them, Carina must comply with the evil bastard’s unusual demands. The kicker? She must tell no one what she is up to.

Meanwhile, she has a new dance club to open for the preternatural community, a fated soul mate acting secretive and distant, and a sexy, new, undead friend who’d love to take Alexander’s place in her heart and bed.

Blackmailed, betrayed, tempted…sometimes destiny has a wicked sense of humor.


Story Excerpt

My day moved from ordinary to interesting when the deliveryman handed me a box that smelled of blood.

The scent made my mouth water. Pungent iron mixed with, of all things, lavender. My thoughts flew straight to Tessa, my surrogate vampire mother. When she pulled out one of her specialty powers, the one I fondly referred to as vampire valium, this relaxing, floral herb scented the air and reduced friend or foe to a boneless, helpless puddle.

I shut the front door on the retreating back of the deliveryman and wiggled the box. Nothing rattled inside. Not particularly heavy, less than ten pounds.

A peace offering, perhaps? Tessa certainly owed me one.

She’d commanded her minion, my boyfriend Alexander, to star in a two-month classical music tour of Italy, performing nightly for vampire dignitaries and their lucky minions. While I, the good little predestined, vampire apocalypse averting, Chosen One in training, remained behind in San Francisco to learn how to kick naughty vampire ass with my latent and rather unwieldy fire power.

“Hey boys,” I called up to the second floor where my friend Adrian and his lover, my mentor Jonas, took their sweet time descending for breakfast. “Bloody prezzie just arrived. And I do mean that literally.”

Silence answered my shout, followed by the whoosh of water in the master bathroom shower and a husky laugh from Adrian. Given that sexy sound, I could expect a delay. Jonas tended to make their showers last forever.

A jolt of jealousy stabbed my stomach. Wish I could enjoy some fun and sexy time with my guy. I shrugged off the sensation and strode into the kitchen. “Fine. More for me.”

I parked my ass in a chair and slid the box onto the table to study it. No return address or package info. Not that surprising. Vampires tended to aim for stealth and subtlety, to fly under the radar of the general human populace. One of Tessa’s minions probably compelled the delivery dude, or he belonged to the circle of humans already in-the-know.

I ripped off the tape in one pull and peeked inside. No packing peanuts, but rather a nest of lavender branches speckled with droplets of blood, as if the branches themselves bled. Beautiful, aromatic, and so very vampire.

A wine box large enough for two bottles rested in the nest. Cold to the touch, indicating recent refrigeration. I lifted it out, trailing my fingers over the gold latch, the dark, glossy wood, the Celtic knots carved into each end, and finally over the initials on top. My initials, C A T. Short for Carina Agostina Tranquilli.

What a well-crafted and thoughtful gift. I bet the wine inside would be equally well-made.

I flipped the latch and opened the lid. My brows collided. Not wine.

Nine vials of blood about the size of my ring finger rested side by side in black velvet bedding. A stopper sealed with red wax and stamped with my initials secured the blood inside each vessel.

I pulled one from its nest and held it up in the light streaming through the kitchen’s bay window. The liquid glowed a rich, ruby red like a shard in a stained glass window.

“Beautiful.” And odd.

Sure, I was a half vampire and could appreciate a fine bit of blood, but I was still a human female and for me, nothing says, I’m sorry for disrupting your entire life like high-end jewelry or better yet an all-expenses paid trip with my boyfriend somewhere secluded, luxurious, and far away from vampire politics. Hell, I’d settle for the return of my boyfriend to San Francisco.


Adult Excerpt

My attacker pinned me face-first to the trunk, grinding an erection into my backside. Panic and pain pierced my gut. Oh, hell no. I struggled to free myself, my power eager to fry the bastard. But a familiar wintery power slid under my skin and doused my fire as if it were a weak matchstick.

Warm breath teased my earlobe. “Hello, pet.”

I froze. Fuck me. Dixon.

He nipped my ear lobe with wicked sharp fangs. “Miss me?”

“No.” The cut stung. Blood trickled, warm and wet, down my neck.

“No? I’m hurt.” Jolts of icy power secured me to the tree trunk while Dixon’s skeletal hands roamed over my body.

“Back off, you undead wanker,” I snapped, refusing to surrender to my fears.

He chuckled. “I do so love it when you speak my language, my little kitten.”

The world spun when he flipped me around and lassoed me tighter to the trunk with his power, his lean, tall body caging mine. Head lowered, gaunt face too close, his silver eyes shone like moonlight. Mesmerizing, seductive moonlight.

Shit. He was trying to compel me. Very few vampires could do that, and they had to be old. Unfortunately, Dixon was as old as Stonehenge. Maybe older.

I lowered my gaze to his thin, blue-black lips. They curled up in a creepy smile under my inspection, crinkling the lightning bolt tattoo streaking across one hollow cheek. He circled one long fang with the tip of his tongue. 

“Come now, pet. No more words for your favorite admirer?”

Anger almost had me hurling insults at the bastard but I clenched my teeth. You’re bat shit crazy, and I’m going to kill you if I can get my hands free.

He slipped a bony finger under my chin and tilted it upward, trapping my gaze again. I met his challenge for two whole seconds before pain closed my eyes. He’d likely dislocated my shoulder with his aerial stunt, and so far my vampire quick healing genes had failed to fix it.

“Oh dear, is my favorite toy broken?” He poked my shoulder hard, chuckling when I cried out.

“Bastard.” Moisture beaded on my forehead, and nausea knotted my stomach. I should puke on the smug jerk. That would teach him.

“Here my pet, let me help.”

“Don’t touch—”

Pain clogged my throat as he reset my shoulder with surprising medical precision.

He slid his hand over my repaired shoulder and down to the curve of my waist. “There, all better now.” His hand inched lower and squeezed my ass.

“Back off, perv.”

“Hm. Still spicy I see. Very good.”

He leaned into me until his erection pressed against my belly. Inside my power paced like a caged tiger, roaring and swiping at the metaphorical bars Dixon had placed around her. God, how I wanted to grab his head and fry him, starting with his too-perfect, spiky platinum hair, then his tattooed face and on down until he was nothing but an ash statue standing in his studded leather boots.

My anger surged. I bucked against his hold, hating his gaunt body plastered to mine, his cigarettes and leather scent searing my nostrils, just…hating him.

He trapped my arms above my head and rubbed his cheek against my forehead. “Yes, move like that kitten. Right there.” He lapped at my bleeding ear. “Don’t stop now, my lush little pet.”

Bile burned my throat, making a bid for freedom. “Screw you.”

“Oh, yes. Quite soon in fact.”

Panic ripped my gut. “Never.”

“Forever,” he shot back.


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About the Author:

Celia lives in California with her husband, daughter, and two feisty cats. She writes urban fantasy and paranormal romance, and has a particular fondness for vampires, werewolves, and the Fae. 

When not writing, you’ll find her exercising, reading a good book or indulging her addiction to Joss Whedon’s TV shows and movies.

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Sunday, February 1, 2015

The Love of An Incubus and A Phoenix in Heart's Volition by Frey Ortega


Micah Faraday is an incubus with a rough past, one that includes being held captive by not one, but two psychotic madmen, and having a rough time acclimating to believing he’s worth being loved, let alone being a person. Surviving day by day isn’t really living it, and one day Micah made the decision to die. Of course, until he makes the mistake of binding himself to the phoenix named Erik Anderson.

Erik is exactly what Micah needs but doesn’t think he wants: grounded, stable, reliable, and he doesn’t know when to give up. He seeks to understand Micah and to help him through his pain, but he also has to contend with a world he’s not familiar with.

In the midst of all of the chaos that surrounds them, Micah and Erik go on a journey of learning to trust and understanding that some of the worst choices we’ve made end up being the best ones after all.

Story Excerpt:

Micah Faraday was royally screwed, and not in the good way most incubi would have liked.
It all started when he brought Erik Anderson into his life. Saving the man by binding himself to Erik hadn’t been a part of his life plan, but there was a little seed of thought inside of Micah that told him that if he could provide an inkling of good in the world by saving a life, then he wouldn’t die completely useless. He hadn’t counted on Erik actually wanting to be with him, though.

The moment the mating bond snapped into place between the two of them, Micah knew he was screwed, because there was an actual chance that Erik actually wanted him, and Micah couldn’t admit to himself that he —no, yearned for—another person to like him.

Now, he had someone who wanted him. Erik was many things to Micah even though they’d only been mated a short while. The phoenix was a lot of unknowns, certainly, but the one thing Micah knew about the man was that they were bound together irreversibly, and it seemed Erik was okay with that, much to Micah’s surprise and chagrin.

And they hadn’t had sex, well, ever, though that wasn’t so much a problem since they’d only been mated for three weeks. Although, Micah definitely felt the pangs of hunger inside him, a hunger that wouldn’t be sated by any meal, and it was something that only Erik could give him. As an incubus, he needed to feed in other ways than just eating food. Being bound to someone else just made this need stronger, this need to feed, to play with, and to devour the man he was bound to.

Not to mention the fact that the man with wild, blond hair, ice-blue eyes and a perpetual, lopsided grin on his face was like sex on a stick. Micah needed to mentally fan himself whenever he even turned to look at Erik, and something inside him constantly tried to propel him into Erik’s arms. He needed to stay away.

Because of the way he was trying hard not to feed from Erik, Micah’s mind trailed off from time to time into some state where he constantly felt exhausted, sometimes to the point of catatonia. It felt as though the world around his would cease to exist, and it brought him some peace of mind even as he sat there, unresponsive.

Back when he had been abducted, so much of his time was spent feeling the rhythm of a machine press into him on all ends that there were times that he almost felt one with the machine. Every so often, when his body throbbed, he could feel everything around him disappear, and he would be sucked into his thoughts, daydreaming and not paying attention to anything else, really.

Much like this moment, where Micah was seated in the middle of an apartment in Hell’s Kitchen, the apartment he now lived in with his newfound “mate.” A whole group of his roommates were seated in the living room. Erik was waving his hand about in front of Micah’s face to try and capture his attention, and two couples were off on the other side staring at him like he’d just lost his head. Zack had an arm draped over the back of the couch, with one leg drawn up while Rain was leaning forward, his legs splayed out in a comfortable sitting position, his fingers tented.

Then there was Kai, who was settled right against Darius, his head against the gargantuan man’s shoulder. Erik, of course, was to one side, with that lopsided, sexy-as-sin grin on his face and the way his arm draped over the back of the couch, his body language just screaming honest and open and everything Micah just wanted to touch and feel and…do a lot of other things to.

Micah was so deep, deep into his reverie that he hadn’t realized he was actually talking to a group of people. One minute he was listening to Kai tell a story, when Erik’s arm tightened around him slightly and he careened into oblivion. Part of it was extreme hunger.

Times like these, Micah missed the freedom of being able to feed from the energy of the world around him. Now, it was as though everything was funneled—and amplified—by the big, Nordic-looking lug beside him. It was just one of the many double-edged swords when he bound himself to Erik weeks ago. When Erik started to feel worried, Micah lost the already tenuous supply of energy he had, and it made his mind attempt to shut down to try and conserve what little energy he had left inside him.

But he knew he couldn’t. Micah could see the looks on the faces of his friends and he had to come back. He blinked rapidly, before turning to the source of the voice trying to talk to him.

“Earth to Micah, come in, Micah,” Kai said. “You still with us, space cadet?”

“Huh, what?” Micah blinked and turned to Kai. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was just thinking…”

“Care to share with the rest of the class?” Kai grinned.

“No, not specifically,” Micah said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as a tinge of red appeared on his cheeks. “It’s nothing serious.”

“Party pooper. No, seriously, we’re worried. You’ve been spacing out a lot.” Kai frowned.

“Not to mention, you’ve gotten pretty pale.”

“It’s just incubi stuff, don’t worry,” Micah replied, waving a hand absently. “Nothing to be worried about.”

Adult Excerpt:

The world around Micah was reduced to the sensations of his lover’s kiss and their embrace. Erik’s cheeks hollowed out as he sucked Micah’s bottom lip almost harshly, demanding and needy all at once as he kissed his mate. The way Erik’s stomach flexed, rigid and hard against his own softer, smoother frame, as well as the tension of the larger man’s arms as Erik drew himself closer, threatened to engulf Micah in his sultry warmth, like moth to a flame. Erik tasted so sweet—sinful, even—almost like warm, melted chocolate engulfing him with velvety softness. Micah craved more, trying to tangle his tongue against Erik’s, but their kiss ended all too soon.

Their lips finally parted with a soft suckle. Micah looked up to see Erik’s ice-blue eyes dilated, and his lips parted as he panted. The phoenix’s arms tensed, grasping the wall. Micah could even hear his mate’s nails scrape against the wood.

“You taste real good,” Erik murmured, his voice just a bit lower and more guttural than usual. Instead of retching like Micah did whenever somebody used a pet name on him, the term of endearment actually made something in his stomach do some form of a flip.

“No, no I’m not,” Micah said, his cheeks puffing up as he turned his eyes away, trying to sound as menacing as possible while his hands went up into the messy mop of near neck-length blond hair that Erik had. His fingers curled into them, combing through the locks as he peered up into his mate’s eyes, dragging his gaze along Erik’s form. It took him another few moments to speak, looking up to see an amused expression on his mate’s face. “Your hair is, though.”

“Was that a legitimate attempt at flirting?” Erik chuckled. He pressed his kiss-swollen lips right up against Micah’s once more, lightly pecking the incubus’s lips. “That was awful.” He took that moment, though, to grasp his smaller lover’s body up from the wall and hoist over to the bed, dropping the man unceremoniously onto the mattress, and making Micah bounce slightly from the force.

“No it wasn’t. I wasn’t flirting. Sh–shut up!” Micah stammered and turned to look away, his face turning bright, bright red and heat prickling at his face. He collected himself as he tried to pull away from the phoenix, curling up into a little ball near the headboard.

“Micah, look at me, pretty,” Erik drawled in a whisper.

“N–no.” There was a petulance in his voice, even as Micah stammered. “You’re making fun of me. Also, I hate that name. Can’t you just call me Micah?”

Erik’s voice was filled with mirth. “No, I wasn’t. You’re cute and I like it, so stop hiding yourself away, all right? Come on, Micah. Look at me.”

If it weren’t for the fact that Erik stopped saying the word pretty and actually called Micah by his real name, he wouldn’t have looked.

Micah turned his gaze slowly to see Erik’s hands grasping the edges of his shirt. Almost in time with the sweep of Micah’s eyes upward, Erik undressed right before him, revealing his broad, muscled frame. Micah’s eyes were drawn to the perfect hills of his lover’s abdomen, to the small treasure trail of dark blond hair that surrounded his lover’s peach-colored nipples down into his pants. The incubus’ breath hitched. His fingers clenched around the covers of the bed. In that moment, there was only Erik, and suddenly Micah felt so warm in the clothes he wore that he began to perspire just a bit.

Erik, of course, didn’t look so fazed, though he did permeate arousal in every movement of his body. In fact, he’d started to remove his pants, too, revealing a cock that was already pointed up, smacking against his belly right below his belly button. He grinned and his head lifted, tongue darting out to lick over his lips. Like a panther, he stalked forward, crawling up the bed until he loomed right over Micah in all his naked glory.

Micah couldn’t believe this was happening. He wanted so badly to resist, but his impulse control was shot to hell. Erik was fulfilling his mate’s needs and desires at that moment, the cloud of passion and energy permeating them both fueling Micah. It wasn’t just his lust, either. Micah could feel his strength coming back to him, flowing back into him. The small incubus didn’t know that it could feel like this.

From the many stories Micah had heard about incubi who’d bonded who didn’t at least have sex once a week with their partners, it was a wonder he was still alive.

True, he’d already been weak and starving for some time, but he was able to get by just from feeding off of the happiness of the people around him, and it wasn’t such a big problem without being bonded. An unbound cubi could simply feast on whoever they desired, eating up the pleasure—which was also why they were so sexual—of almost everyone around them and ensuring their survival. But now, it was different. With Erik and their bond in the picture, his body now craved and yearned for nourishment from the phoenix. After all, Micah’s life now depended on a single person.

Deep in his reverie, he hadn’t even realized that Erik had removed his pants, though his shirt remained on his body. It was only when he was being flipped over, his face resting against the mattress and his legs in the air, held in place by Erik’s strong arms, that Micah was able to realize what was happening. Erik’s face pressed in between his cheeks, making Micah’s eyes widen in surprise. “E–Erik, what are you doing—ah!”


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Author Bio

Frey Ortega writes erotic romance, primarily of the gay variety. He lives in what a friend affectionately calls “the south-easternmost part of Spain,” which is an archipelago called the Philippines. He’s a graduate of the Royal, Pontifical, and Catholic University in Manila, with a Bachelors of Science degree in Psychology. Primarily, he works as a writer, a novelist, sometimes a video game journalist, and overall a homebody who spends way too much time on the internet.

He loves writing about people, especially people of all different shapes, sizes and backgrounds, falling in love. You might also find him playing video games from time to time! His favorite ones are MMORPGs, and role-playing games in general (and not just the ones in the bedroom.)

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