WHEN HE WAS BAD Publisher: Kensington Brava Release Date: June 2008 Click here for information page Miss Congeniality-Unedited/Unproofed "Where do you get those stockings from, doc?" Niles Van Holtz, Van to his friends and family, growled. Those stockings were like something out of a 1940s movie with that one sexy line up the back of each leg. He bet she wore garters too. Man, the woman drove him absolutely crazy and she didn't even notice. Cold, brutally pale blue eyes turned and locked on Van. "Ah, yes," she sighed out. "Niles Van Holtz. My night at these charity functions wouldn't be complete without your biting wit and continual obsession over my underclothes." "Why else do you think I'd drag myself to the science building, of all places, except to see you?" Van had known a lot of mean women in his time. Coming from a wealthy background filled with lethal predators, he was more surprised to find a nice female than a mean one. But Dr. Irene Conridge, PhD several times over and Rhode Scholar by the time she was fifteen, made mincemeat of them all. Irene Conridge was what one would call a child prodigy. At least she was. But at a luscious twenty-five she'd left her "child" anything long behind. From the time Irene had walked onto the university campus, Van had locked onto her scent and had hunted her relentlessly ever since. She'd been eighteen at the time and Van twenty. He thought she was just another freshman. Or, as his buds liked to call them, freshmeat. But he found out quick enough-when she'd coldly laid in to him, leaving him standing speechless in the middle of the Square-that she was actually a guest professor. And a big deal. Ivy League universities all over the country and Europe had fought for her. But, for some unknown reason, she'd taken the job at this small but elite university on the border of Seattle, Washington. She'd turned down Harvard, Yale, M.I.T., Berkley, Oxford…all of them. No one understood it, but Van did. Why go to a big university with a bunch of other former prodigies, when you can go to a smaller one and be Head Shit in Charge? Because Irene went "small", she ruled. They denied her nothing, gave her whatever she needed, and strove hard to keep her happy. In return, Irene kept the university's name alive in academic circles, had students begging to get into the school so they could enroll in her class-until they actually had to get through one of her classes-and kept the money flowing in. The woman wasn't charming but somehow she dragged money from some of the richest families in the Northwest. His included. "Besides, I'm only obsessed with your underclothes, doc." He knew she hated when he called her that. "Tell me, do you wear garters under those clothes?" "Yes," she replied plainly. "I don't like pantyhose. I find them too binding." Van couldn't help himself, he growled again. Enough so that she turned and looked at him directly. "Did you just growl at me?" "It was much more of a purr." "Fascinating." "Am I?" "No. You're not. But the fact that a grown man would growl over garter belts is fascinating. I'm sure the psychology department would find you a fascinating test study." "Sweet talker." She frowned and it wasn't a frown of annoyance or concern, but one of deep thought. "Am I? I've been told I'm cold and quite removed." Van had to try really hard not to laugh. To be honest, he didn't know a colder woman on the planet. Female cavewomen who had been frozen in blocks of ice for millions of years were warmer than Irene. And yet…he simply couldn't leave her alone. His sister, who currently floated around the party avoiding anyone who annoyed her, didn't understand his obsession over that "plain girl" as she often called Irene. He'd heard it before. Irene called "plain" or, his personal favorite, "not hideous." But Van didn't know what they were talking about. The woman was absolutely adorable. Black, shoulder-length hair which had an out-of-control curl thing going that made him, for some unknown reason, think constantly of sweaty rough sex. Full lips he'd seen in more than one wet dream over the years and a regal nose. A long, curvy body she constantly hid behind boring prim and proper power suits in the dullest colors but she always wore those sexy stockings and killer shoes. But it was the eyes that did him in. He saw eyes like hers on arctic wolves. So pale blue he didn't really even think of them as blue at all. He'd heard more than a few people call her eyes freakish or disturbing, but he could stare into those eyes forever. "I bet you're not really cold, doc. Not underneath it all." "Actually, I am. Oh. And Jackie and I have a bet going." She motioned to her roommate, Jaqueline Jean-Louis and former child music prodigy. The two women had known each other for years and Jean-Louis taught in the prestigious music department of the university. What Van found fascinating about the whole relationship was the fact that Jean-Louis was a shifter. A jackal, specifically. He always wondered if Irene knew. If she did, she absolutely never showed it. But it wouldn't be unusual for her not to know. Many shifters went through their entire lives successfully hiding who they really were from the full-humans close to them. It was important to their kind to hide who they were. In fact, hard choices were sometimes made in order to keep their secret. "Is that right?" he asked, taking a glass of champagne from the tray passing by. "Yes. I'm convinced you believe I'm a virgin and all this time you've been hoping to defile me." No matter what he did, he couldn't stop from choking that champagne right back up.

EVERLASTING BAD BOYS Publisher: Brava Release Date: November '08 Click here for information page Can't Get Enough-Unedited/Unproofed Running a comb through her freshly washed hair, Shalin looked at the courtyard beneath her window. Not surprisingly, very few of the human servants were about and the few that were, quickly scurried toward one of the many buildings so they were out of the rain. Then she saw him, marching through the rain, uncaring his clothes were getting soaked. Ailean stopped and spoke to a large, burly human. She'd guess the woman was the local blacksmith based on her dress and the size of her arms. Laughing at some joke of his, the female placed her hand on his forearm and Shalin's eyes narrowed dangerously. With a quick hug, the blacksmith walked away and Ailean continued onto his destination. She watched until he walked into the stables. Stables? "Yum... horse." ***** Ailean gently brushed his favorite mare's coat and softly hummed. Black Heart liked when he hummed. He loved doing this. It was one of those things he could do and still focus on something else completely. Like why his family had suddenly lost their collective minds. Never before, in his nearly hundred and fifty years, had they ever cared about what he did or who he did it with. But now, suddenly, he had the lot of them trying to push him away from Shalin as if they thought he'd purposely hurt her. Could involving himself with Shalin only lead to hurting her more than anyone else because she truly was innocent? He hated the thought of hurting her and hated the thought of never laying with her even more. So focused on his thoughts and feelings-something Ailean rarely paid attention to for more than three seconds at a time-he didn't notice Black Heart's growing nervousness until she bucked suddenly. Ailean placed his hand on her flank, felt the tensing muscles. He crooned to her softly while he slowly, carefully stood. It wasn't like Black Heart to be so jumpy around him. He'd ridden her and many from her line into local battles when he'd fought as human. She'd never balked before although she could smell what he was. "What is it, girl?" he asked softly. "What has you so nervous?" "Is she for tonight's meal?" that sweet, innocent voice asked. And Black Heart kicked at the stall door, forcing Shalin to back up. "Hhhm. She may be tough of hide, Ailean," Shalin said in all seriousness. "She'll be hard to chew." Ailean quickly stepped in front of Black Heart before she could knock down the stall door. "Ssssh," he sang softly. "It's all right." Once he had her relatively calm, he glanced over his shoulder at Shalin, forcing himself to ignore how beautiful she looked in another one of his cousin's gowns, this time a deep blue. Like before, it was too big for her and kept falling off her shoulder, giving just enough to tantalize and tease but still hold everything back. "She's not dinner, Shalin." "She's not?" "No." "Then what are you doing with her?" she asked, honestly confused. "Grooming her." "For what if we're not going to eat her?" "Because I like to." "Oh." Shalin looked down the long rows of stalls. "What about that one?" She pointed at Dragon's Gold. "She looks like she'd be tasty and enough for two." Dragon's Gold, only a few feet away, jerked back and kicked her stall door. "Shalin!" he snapped, startling her attention back to him. "We don't eat horses here." "You don't?" "No. These are working animals. Just like the dogs." "Aren't you running out of food options?" He couldn't help but chuckle. "We make do." "I see." She wandered off, glancing into each stall. Ailean took a moment to brush his hand over Black Heart's snout. "It's all right, girl. It's all right." Black Heart clicked her teeth together and motioned with her head. Ailean looked up in time to see Shalin open one of the stalls and step in. "Gods, Shalin! Not that one!" Ailean shot over the stall gate, not able to take the time to open it, and charged after the dragoness. He stumbled to a stop when he found her petting the enormous pitch-black horse inside. "I can see why you enjoy this," she murmured. "It's quite soothing." She looked up at him. "What's his name?" "Nightmare." "Hhhm." She ran her hands through the horse's long mane of hair. "He's not as clean as the others and his mane's a mess. Why?" Ailean smiled at the accusation in Shalin's voice and crossed his arms over his chest. "That's because no one else has ever been able to get near him except to give him a little food and water. He's known for having broken more ribs, arms, legs, and heads, than any other horse in my province. He's mean, cranky, and foul tempered. No one trusts him and we think he enjoys hurting people. Hence the name Nightmare." At his words, Shalin shrugged. "He seems to like me well enough." "That he does." "I'll clean him myself then." "Shalin, wait -- " "It's not fair. All the others tended to and not him." Shalin grabbed a bucket and headed out to get water. "I know what it's like to feel like an outsider among your own," she said so softly he almost didn't hear her. "I'll take care of him," she said again before disappearing out the stable door. Ailean watched her go. It still astounded him Shalin was born a royal. She never acted like it. And perhaps Nightmare wasn't as big a bastard as they'd all originally thought if Shalin found some good in him. Ailean almost believed that too, until Nightmare reared up on his hind legs and brought his forelegs down on Ailean's chest, sending him flying back into an empty stall. A human might have been killed but like Black Heart, Nightmare knew exactly what Ailean was and how much he could take. As Ailean tried to get his breath back, Shalin reappeared with a bucketful of water and one of the stable boys to assist her. She glanced down at him. "What are you doing?" When he didn't answer, mostly because he still couldn't, she shook her head. "So lazy, Ailean the Wicked."

SUN, SAND, SEX Publisher: Kensington Brava Release Date: 2007 Click here for information page MY KIND OF TOWN - Unedited and Unproofed "There's blood everywhere." Kyle Treharne leaned into the passenger side of the overturned car, the driver's side so badly damaged no one could get through the crumpled metal to extract themselves. Not even the female whose fear he could smell. Her fear and panic…and something else. Something he couldn't quite name. "Do you see anybody?" his boss asked. Kyle re-adjusted the earplug to hear the man better. The Sheriff's voice was so low, it was often hard to make out exactly what he'd said. "Nope. I don't see anyone. No bodies, but…" He sniffed the air and looked down. "Blood trail." "Follow it. Let me know what you find. I'll send out the EMS guys." "You got it." Kyle disconnected and followed the trail of blood heading straight toward the beach. He moved fast, worried the woman might be bleeding to death, but also concerned this human female would see something he'd never be able to explain. Kyle pushed through the trees until he hit the beach. As he'd hoped, none of the town's people or resort visitors were hanging around, the beach thankfully deserted in the middle of this hot August day. He followed the blood cutting in a small arc across the sand, the trail leading back into the woods about twenty feet from where he'd entered. He'd barely gone five feet when a bright flash of light and the missing woman's scent hit him hard, seconds before she hit him hard. He should have been faster. Normally, he would be. That scent of hers, though, threw him completely off balance and he couldn't snap out of it quick enough to avoid the woman slamming right into him. Her body hit his so hard that if he were completely human, she might have killed him. But Kyle wasn't human. He'd been born different like nearly everyone else in his small town. They may not all be the same breed, but they were all the same kind. Still, his less than human nature didn't mean he didn't experience pain. Like at the moment, he felt lots and lots of pain as he landed flat on his back, the woman on top of him. Yet the pain faded away when the woman moved, her small body brushing against him. She moaned and Kyle reached around to gently grip her shoulders. "Hey, darlin'. You all right?" She didn't answer. Instead, she slapped her hand over his face, squashing his nose. Putting all her weight on that hand, she pushed herself up. Between her fingers, he could see the confusion in her eyes as she looked around. Blood from a deep gash on her forehead matted her dark brown hair and covered part of her face. Bloodshot, slightly almond-shaped brown eyes searched the area. For what, Kyle had no idea. A cut slashed across her top lip and although it no longer bled, it had started to turn the area around it black and blue. Damn, little girl is cute. "Uh…" He tapped her arm. "Could you move your hand, sweetheart?" And the question came out like he had the worst cold in the universe. "I can't really breathe." She didn't even look at him, instead staring off into the forest. "Dammit. It's gone." Putting more pressure on his poor nose, the woman levered herself up and off him. "Damn. Damn. Damn." She stumbled toward the forest and Kyle quickly got to his feet. "This isn't my fault. It's not." Poor thing, completely delirious from all that blood loss and muttering to herself like a mental patient. Then she stopped walking. Abruptly. Almost as if she'd walked into a wall. "Damn," she said again. Knowing he had to get her to the hospital before she died on him, Kyle put his hand on her shoulder, gently turning her so she could see him. "It's all right, darlin'. Let's get you out of here, okay?" He slipped one arm behind her back and the other under her knees, scooping her up in his arms. Hhhm. She feels nice there. Kyle smiled down at her and, for a moment, she looked at him in complete confusion. Then the crazy woman started swinging and kicking, trying to get out of his arms. Although she had no skills-she did little more than flail wildly-he couldn't believe her strength with all the blood she'd lost, but he quickly realized someone else had caught on to her scent, too, and was heading right for them. Kyle gripped the fighting woman around the waist, dragging her back against him with one arm. Ignoring how much her tiny fists and feet were starting to hurt, he turned his body so she faced in the opposite direction and with his free hand, swung up and back, slamming the back of his fist into the muzzle of the black striped and orange Yankee bastard hellbent on getting his tiger paws on the woman in Kyle's arms. Tiger males only had to get a whiff of a female and they were on them like white on rice. The fact this one was full human and an outsider didn't seem to matter to some idiots. A surprised yelp and the Yankee cat flipped back into the woods. Kyle rolled his eyes. He loved his town but, Lord knew, he didn't like the Yankees who often came to call. All of them rude, pretentious, and damn annoying. Kyle walked off with the woman still trapped in his arm until she started slapping at him. "Hands off! Hands off! Let me go!" After all that blood loss, she seemed completely lucid and quite insane. Even worse…he'd recognize that accent anywhere. A Yankee. A damn Yankee. Kyle dropped her on her cute butt and she slammed hard into the sand. After a moment of stunned silence, she suddenly glared up at him with those big brown eyes…and just like that, Kyle Treharne knew he was in the biggest trouble of his life.