Rhian Cahill's Blog, page 37

Conference time!

I’m doing the final packing for the Romance Writers of Australia conference. I leave tomorrow and as usual I find myself doing everything at the last minute. But never fear, I’m good at pulling it together at the last second so I’ll be ready when it’s time to leave to catch my plane.

 

I have no clue if I’ll be able to get online but I’ll be sure to take some pix and post them on FaceBook and Twitter. And you can search the tag #RWAus12 to see who else is tweeting about the conference. If you’re at conference or the book signing on Friday be sure to come and say hi.

 

Okay, back to packing.

Six Sentence Sunday – Doing Logan Pt4 – #SixSunday

 

Dropping her on the bed, he came down on top of her. Meredith forced her eyelids to open and found herself staring into Logan’s heated gaze.

“Before we go any further you have to know, this isn’t a one-time deal. We do this and it’s the start of something. I won’t be your rebound guy. I’ll be the only guy.”

You can find out all the info on Doing Logan HERE!

  

And don’t forget to check out the other authors participating this week HERE!

Five for Friday – Coyote Whispers

Book 3 of the Coyote Hunger series, Coyote Whispers, is my pick for Five for Friday this week.

 

Chapter One

May Eighteenth

 

Steve sat enclosed by darkness and listened to the sounds of the forest as it settled into the coming night. The sun had gone down hours ago thanks to the mountains he called home, but true sunset still had a few minutes. He’d lived in Whispering Springs or the surrounding mountain range his whole life. Never once had he felt the urge to leave it behind and explore the world. He took the occasional trip down the mountainside to visit one of the big cities, but there was no appeal in staying away longer than a day or two, a week at most.

He breathed deep, pulling the chilled, late-spring air into his lungs, the accompanying sting of cold meeting warm, a welcome twinge. His house had been finished for two months, but he hadn’t moved everything in until this past weekend. A grin curled his lips as he thought about why it had taken so long. Having his two best friends somewhat occupied with Rowan’s return had slowed down both the finishing of the house and the moving in. Not that he’d complain. Steve was more than happy Rowan had finally come home and even happier to see her reunited with her mate, Quinn.

The night around him grew still, quiet in a way that pricked his instincts, caused his hair to stand on end, and drew his coyote’s attention. Steve slowly sat forward, leaned over to put his beer bottle on the deck beside his chair, before closing his eyes and honing his senses to listen—to smell. The crush of undergrowth beneath running feet hit him first, followed by a body-slamming gust of fear. He scented two shifters but he couldn’t place them. Tried harder to separate them and connect either essence to the memory of its owner.

A howl of agony echoed up the ridge, sliced into his gut and pulled his coyote out with amazing speed. On his feet, Steve was glad he’d forgone shirt and shoes after his shower as he removed his sweats. Free of the restrictive garment, he shifted as he leapt over the deck railing to the ground one story below. He landed with a jolt to every bone but ignored it as he ran through the forest in the direction of the horrific screams of distress.

As he drew closer he could hear the struggles, smell the fear—the blood. The enjoyment. The attacker, in coyote form if he wasn’t mistaken, was thrilled with his catch. A catch Steve had every intention of setting free. His muscles shuddered and it wasn’t just from the exertion of running all out. He thought about stealth but a bloodcurdling cry and bark of triumph changed his mind. Low branches and shrubs slapped into him, tangled with his fur, as he powered his bulk toward the fight up ahead he glimpsed through the trees.

The other animal’s head whipped up, yellow eyes and white teeth glowed in the dusk as he turned in Steve’s direction. A frustrated howl rent the air as the coyote turned from his prey and bolted in the opposite direction. Torn between going after the retreating coyote and tending to the victim, Steve stumbled enough to have the decision made for him. Whoever the coyote was, he had too much head start and the metallic stench of blood told Steve his first concern should be the wounded human crumpled on the ground.

Ripped, blood-splattered clothes covered the too-still body, but there was no mistaking the feminine shape or perfume. He reached her side and shifted back to human form. Uncaring of his naked state, he knelt beside her head and felt for a pulse. The steady beat reassured him but how long would it stay that way? The overpowering aroma of spilled blood masked her scent, but he knew she was one of the pack, her scent was familiar. Too familiar. No! His fingers brushed away hair to reveal her face and Steve’s heart stopped.

“Doc?” The hoarse whisper ached in his throat.

His heart kicked back in with a thud. Adrenaline pumped through his veins and the urge to cradle her in his arms took hold but Steve knew he couldn’t. Not yet. He had to check her injuries, stop the bleeding if he could. He ran his hands down her limbs to check for broken bones. In his limited knowledge he held back a howl of frustration. She was the one who should be doing this. She was the doctor. The person who stitched the cuts, set the broken bones and soothed the bruises.

Hands and fingers sticky with blood, Steve rolled her to her back and breathed a sigh of relief when she moaned.

“Doc? Can you hear me?”

She trembled under his touch but didn’t answer as he tried to find where she bled from the most. Her jeans and shirt were wet with blood but he couldn’t find anything too deep or gushing enough to take the time to stop the flow. He needed to get her to the house. There he could remove what was left of her clothes and see how bad the damage was under light. He could also clean her up and decide if she required medical attention better than he could give.

They were about three hundred feet below his house but with the slope and thick vegetation, that distance may as well be three miles. It would take him longer to get up the hill than it had coming down with the burden of carrying Doc, and Steve knew every second counted. He tried to be as gentle as possible, but she whimpered when he worked his arms under her and pulled her against his naked chest.

In all the fantasies he’d had of Doc cradled against his naked body, this wasn’t one of them. The woman set his blood on fire but carrying her now froze that same blood in his veins. Knowing someone had set out to hurt her—had hurt her—made Steve’s coyote want to hunt down her attacker and do some hurting of his own. He turned and headed for home, careful not to let any branches scrape against her battered body. By the time he reached halfway, shivers raked her from head to toe and he knew shock had set in.

He lengthened his stride. The urgency to get her home gave him the strength to move over the ground quickly. When the large, dark shadow of his house came into view he breathed a sigh of relief and went toward the basement door. Once inside, Steve did something he’d never done before. He closed the solid timber panel and threw the deadbolt home.

The house was dark—quiet, and he stopped to listen in case they weren’t alone. There was nothing different from when he’d left. No new scents and Steve’s instincts told him no one was inside—or had been. He took the stairs to the second floor, Doc held tight in his embrace. It never entered his mind to take her to the guest room. He headed straight for his bedroom, laid her on the bed and switched the bedside light on to get his first good look at her.

Steve sucked in a breath. Her delicate face was bruised and bloody, one eye swollen and the shiner already showing. The split in her bottom lip looked bad, it gaped open and blood flowed in a trickle down her chin. The dark shadow along the right side of her jaw worried him. She’d obviously taken one to the chin at some point, whether a direct strike or glancing blow he couldn’t say. Doc reminded him of a prize fighter after ten rounds in the ring.

As gently as he could, he removed her clothes. He started at her feet, tossing her boots to the floor behind him. Her jeans were torn in places and the patches of blood, while concerning, didn’t seem to be life threatening. Steve popped the button and tugged the zipper down. Lucky for him, Doc chose to wear clothes too big for her petite frame and the pants slid down over her hips with little resistance. With her legs bare he could see the scratches and knew the heavy denim had saved her from worse harm.

When only her bra and panties covered her, Steve ducked into his bathroom for the first-aid kit. He filled a small bowl with warm water and grabbed a washcloth and towel. The dirt and blood needed to be cleaned away before he could treat her wounds and assess the damage. She hadn’t moved or made more than the occasional whimper since they came inside and the worry of her lack of response played on Steve’s mind. Should he have taken her straight to town?

Most of the lacerations were minor but one across her left breast had him concerned. He had to remove her bra to see the entire wound. It went from the top curve below her collarbone to just under her nipple and the two scratches on either side of the deep cut told him a paw had caught the tender flesh and sliced it. His back teeth would be ground to stumps by the time he finished. The need to hunt down her attacker burned in his gut and his coyote yanked to be let free but Steve couldn’t do anything yet. Doc needed him and he wouldn’t go off and leave her. He couldn’t no matter how much his animal side wanted to.

Doc whimpered and moaned while he cleaned the lesser scrapes but jerked awake as he swiped the large gash on her breast. Her body stiffened and he waited for the panic, for her to fight him but her instincts were good, she just opened the eye that wasn’t swollen shut and watched him as he cleaned, then treated the wound with disinfectant lotion.

“You’re safe now, Gordie, I won’t let anyone hurt you again.” His words did little to soothe his agitated nerves but she relaxed into the bed.

Steve rolled her to the side, took care of the cuts on her back before easing her over again. The marks on her face were the only ones left to deal with and he wasn’t at all sure what to do about her lip, but first he’d get her one of his shirts. He didn’t want her to get cold and he didn’t think Doc would be too happy when she came to her senses a bit more and found herself all but naked in his bed.

He’d been trying to get her there for years but no matter what he did, Steve could never convince her that’s where she belonged. Having her here now, like this, tore him up inside. He had what he’d always wanted but at what cost?

 

Gordie watched Steve. The barest of tremors shook his hands as he tended to her injuries. Her focus was off, one eye blurry and the other refused to open. Dizziness made her nauseated and the churning of her stomach warned of possible rebellion. Taking slow, deep breaths she catalogued the damage. Nothing felt broken, but she was pretty sure she had a mild concussion.

She hadn’t seen it coming. One second she was walking through the forest and the next she received a punch in the face. The blow snapped her head back and slammed her into a tree. For a moment Gordie was stunned, and her attacker managed a few more good hits before shock wore off and she began to fight back. A kick to the balls had given her precious seconds to run. She hadn’t counted on him shifting.

Fear sliced through Gordie as Steve stood.

“Don’t leave me.” The words came out garbled and the pain that lanced her lip made her cry out.

“Easy. I’m not going anywhere.” He was back beside her, brushing her cheek with his fingertips. “I’m just getting a shirt for you to put on.”

She squeezed her eye shut and breathed deep. Pain radiated out through her chest, the side she’d landed on when the coyote had pounced on her burned and Gordie knew the fact she was bruised and not broken was a miracle. The sting of tears scalded her eyes and scratched the back of her throat. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t.

Gordie tried to swallow but her mouth was dry. Her tongue slid out to lick her lip and she jerked on the bed, the pain excruciating, an agonized shriek left her throat.

“Easy, baby.” Warm hands soothed her, skirting around the numerous aches. “Let’s get you covered up so I can take a look at that mouth.”

Her body vibrated with the strain of holding the sobs at bay. The bed lifted and Steve’s warmth disappeared. Suddenly cold, Gordie shivered, the quaking built in intensity until her teeth chattered. When the mattress dipped and heat brushed against her hip, Gordie shook so violently every part of her screamed in pain. Groaning, she turned into him as he leaned over to help her sit. With gentleness she’d never expected, Steve tugged a soft flannel shirt up her arm and around her back.

It proved more difficult to get her second arm into the sleeve. Whimpers and moans filled the air. Muscles tense with pain refused to cooperate and Gordie could do little to help. With her arm in at last, Steve lowered her to the bed. Her back spasmed, agony speared up her spine to throb painfully at the base of her skull. Her head swam and her stomach churned. Bile rose in her throat and she turned to the side.

Either Steve had worked out what was about to happen or the man had lightning-fast reflexes. He had the wastepaper basket under her face as she leaned over the edge of the mattress. Abdominal muscles contracted, repelling everything in her stomach up her throat. Acid burned and the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth, making her heave harder. Sweat popped out on her skin, and goose bumps followed by uncontrollable shaking rode alongside the piercing pain of her twisted belly.

He held her hair out of the way, his other hand holding the bin while she emptied the contents of her stomach. Tears streamed down her face and mucus ran from her nose. As the convulsions eased, Gordie slumped forward in exhaustion. The pain receded, her body going numb, and the effort to stay awake grew more difficult. Steve moved her back from the edge, used a pillow to prop her up. Her head drooped and Gordie knew she would be out in seconds but she needed to make something clear first.

“No hospital.” Her lip stung and hot fluid trickled down her chin.

“Shit, Doc. I can’t stitch that lip and it needs a few. I need to get you to someone who can take care of it.”

“No. Hospital.” Her words slurred as blackness closed in.

“Gordie.”

“Please.” The word came out a sob.

“Okay.”

“Promise me.” She couldn’t leave Whispering Springs and she was the only medical personnel on the mountain. She just needed to rest and then she’d be okay to stitch the wound herself.

Steve must have leaned over her because warm, mint-fresh breath fanned out across her face as he sighed. “Okay, Gordie. I promise.”

His fingers brushed away the strands of hair stuck to her forehead, his gentle touch again surprising her. Steve was a large man, one she usually avoided touching but not through fear of physical harm. No, he scared her for other reasons she chose to ignore. But as drowsiness pulled at her, the last thing to play across her mind was the big man who treated her with such care.

 

Coyote Whispers is available from ELLORA’S CAVE – AMAZON – BARNES & NOBLE – SONY – iBOOKS – ALL ROMANCE eBOOKS

 

Want to check out some more first five pages?

  
Jambrea Jo Jones
Bianca D’Arc
Lila Dubois
Lexxie Couper
Mari Carr

Six Sentence Sunday – Doing Logan Pt3 – #SixSunday

 Logan’s nostrils flared as he sucked in a breath. Naked lust burned in his eyes and she was pleased he hadn’t missed her blatant double entendre. Straightening, she stepped back and closed the door. Unable to wait and see what he would do, Meredith headed up her front walk. The rumble of the engine behind her died and her heart skipped a beat before powering back at double speed. Gulping hard, she made her way to the door, one hand frantically searching for her keys in the bottom of her purse.

Check out all the info on Doing Logan HERE!

  

And don’t forget to take a look at all the other author participating in Six Sentence Sunday HERE!

Five for Friday – Coyote Wild

Last week I gave you Coyote Home, this week I’m giving you the second book in the Coyote Hunger series, Coyote Wild. Enjoy!

Chapter One

 

Need slammed into Brogan Wilder like a two-by-four to the gut. He knew lust, dealt with it when it rose, but this…

This was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. The beast inside chafed at the chains of restraint, snarled and snapped to be let free.

Brogan searched the room but nothing he could see should have him ready to shift. His sister Rowan sat on the sofa, his best friend and her fiancé, Quinn, beside her. They were the only others in the room. The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention and the blood in his veins heated and pumped harder. Whatever had his instincts screaming to take, to possess, had moved closer.

Skin grew tight and hot as he fought with his inner beast. Shifting wasn’t an option. Not yet. First he needed all his human skills to determine what had the power to do this to him. Then he’d have to decide if it was friend or foe. He sniffed the air, tried to place the feminine scent teasing his senses. It wasn’t Rowan or any other female he knew.

“For pity’s sake, Brogan, sit down. You’re making me nervous and I know you’re all bark and no bite. If you don’t relax you’ll scare El right back toAustralia.” Rowan’s words broke into his agitated thoughts.

“What?” He tried to focus on his sister and what she was saying.

“Eloise. Remember? She’ll be coming down from her room any minute and I want you to be on your best behavior. It took months of nagging and pleading to get her to agree to come out for the wedding. I want her to enjoy herself and not regret saying yes.”

Rowan pushed off the lounge and came to stand beside him. Placing her hand on his arm she said, “Please, Brogan. She’s the best friend I’ve had since Gordie, the only friend. She likes me. Not Brogan’s sister.”

Brogan looked at her. She was all grown up, ready to face her destiny but not without scars. They all had them but Rowan would have more if it wasn’t for Eloise Crawford. He knew their friendship had been what kept his sister from going mad the few years she’d been forced to live away from home. He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Okay, I’ll try. But something’s got the beast’s hackles up and I can’t figure out what.” He’d never hidden any of the ugly side of who or what he was from Rowan and he wouldn’t do it now.

“Rowan?”

A musical voice with a strange sultry accent came at the instant his beast went on red alert and yanked at Brogan’s control.

He couldn’t keep the growl inside, or stop the change in his eyes that Rowan wouldn’t miss. If Brogan’s instincts were right, his mate had just stepped into the room.

Rowan’s eyes went wide and her face drained of color. Shaking her head, she whispered, “No. Brogan, no.”

Brogan squeezed his eyes shut, dragged the beast back under control. It wouldn’t do to scare Eloise before they’d even met. When he opened his eyes again it was to find Rowan watching him warily. A rush of breath left her when she saw he had command of his coyote.

“It’s not my choice, Rowan. The fates have spoken.” He tried to ease her with a hug. Drawing her close he murmured, “You’ll need to help guide her.”

“No.”

“Yes, Rowan. Remember, what’s done is done, we move on from here.”

She pulled from his arms and stood with hands on hips. “You hurt her and I’ll tear you to pieces,” she snarled.

Brogan smiled. He had no doubt she’d follow through on her threat. He’d seen her go to battle for someone she cared about. Her loyalty to those she loved was unquestionable, but if those she loved were pitted against each other she always sided with the weaker one.

Rowan looked past him to the woman who stood twenty feet away and had his body reacting as if she were plastered to his side. He could smell her, almost taste her. If he didn’t get a hold of himself he had no doubt Eloise Crawford would run screaming into the hills or to the nearest airport and first plane out of there.

“El, you’ve unpacked?” Rowan asked as she stepped around him.

Brogan looked at Quinn, who’d remained suspiciously quiet during the little demo of his animal behavior. Their gazes connected and he could see the laughter in his best friend’s eyes. The bastard knew this wouldn’t be easy and if Quinn knew anything about him, he knew everything. As he knew Quinn. He wouldn’t fool himself into thinking Quinn felt sorry for him. Oh, no. To Brogan’s way of thinking, Quinn was looking forward to the inevitable fight to come.

 

El watched her best friend pull away from the man built like the side of a house. He was huge. She’d be lucky to come up to his shoulder, not that she’d get too close, something about him made her stomach churn and her heart pound.

The air in the room crackled with tension, thick with energy, the kind that spikes before a lightning strike. The skin that had tightened moments before she left her room now tingled, stretched, pulled tighter. Her hair stood on end and goosebumps broke out all over. She felt the need to strip off her clothes and rub herself all over the big man who still hadn’t turned to face her.

Her eyes bored into the back of his head, even when Rowan reached her side and grabbed her up in another hug of welcome. Distractedly, El returned Rowan’s affection and tried to ignore the slight desperation in it. She’d always been able to judge Rowan’s moods and right now anxiety rolled off her in waves.

“I’m so glad you’re finally here,” Rowan said as she gave one final squeeze and let go.

El dragged her gaze away from the rigid man across the room and looked at her friend. Nothing could detract from the happiness etched all over the beautiful face in front of her. Rowan glowed and it went far deeper than the smile spreading her lips. Her eyes sparkled and she no longer had the pinched expression El had come to expect.

“I’m glad I came, too. Although if you’d mentioned how damn cold it would be I might have reconsidered,” she joked. El gripped both of Rowan’s hands and pulled her arms out wide. “Being home must really agree with you. I didn’t say it earlier but you look gorgeous. But then you always do.”

“Stop. You’ll make me blush.” Rowan let go of one hand and tugged her farther into the room. “Come and meet Quinn and Brogan, they just got home.”

El hadn’t noticed the second man earlier and as they got closer to the two men on the other side of the room her heart rate accelerated. A layer of sweat coated her skin and her breasts grew heavy, her nipples impossibly hard. Between her legs throbbed and went slick. With each shortened breath her nostrils were filled with the scents of open air, the rich, earthy aroma of the forest and man. It was the last smell that had her nerves in overdrive.

The numbing cold she’d felt from the moment she stepped off the plane no longer existed. Instead her body burned with a heat unlike anything in living memory. Fire burst and consumed, leaving behind an arousal so great each step, each rub of her thighs took her closer to an orgasm that would be shattering.

What was going on? Sure she hadn’t had sex in months but then she hadn’t wanted to. Until now. Now she wanted to get down and dirty with the guy who still had his back to her. El’s feet faltered and she stumbled. Rowan turned to glance at her, her eyes going wide when she caught sight of El.

Great. It was painfully obvious that her friend knew what had made El trip over her own toes. She felt her cheeks blush. She was already so hot with arousal they were probably day-glow red.

“Jeez, Brogan, turn it down.” Rowan’s words made no sense. “Here, let’s go into the kitchen while my brother gets himself sorted out.”

 

Coyote Wild is available from Ellora’s Cave, Amazon  -  Barnes & Noble  -  iBooks  -  Sony  -  All Romance eBooks

  

You can also buy Coyote Wild in print in the Coyote Hunger anthology from Ellora’s Cave  -  Amazon  -  Barnes & Noble

 

Want more Five for Friday posts?

Jambrea Jo Jones
Bianca D’Arc
Lila Dubois
Mari Carr
Lexxie Couper

Do as I say not as I do.

In the last week I’ve come to discover that no matter how you conduct yourself or how you treat others, you have no control over the behavior of those around you. When I’m told to act professionally by someone who then turns around and behaves in what can only be described as unprofessionally I’m forced to take a good long, HARD look at everything that has transpired before. It’s not an easy thing to look at your own behavior and know you fucked up. If only by trusting the word of another. And when you did it when you knew better, or at least SHOULD have known better, there’s no one but yourself to blame. Or at least that’s what it feels like. But then you take a breath, and you look at everything with a little less anger and sadness, and you reach the conclusion that it’s a classic case of ‘Do as I say not as I do.’

 

If you haven’t heard by now then let me tell you, last week the publisher/senior editor/owner/who-the-fuck-knows-what-title, resigned from Noble Romance Publishing effective immediately. Considering this person was the face of NR from the very beginning a wave of panic washed over the authors and freelance staff of NR. To say we were flabbergasted is an understatement. To say we were pissed because in the resignation letter we were told not to worry because we should still get our royalties was another understatement. But the WTFery didn’t stop there. As the authors began to discuss the situation on the authors loop one NR employee decided to take those authors to task over there lack of loyalty to a woman who’d walked out the door without a backward glance. W! T! F! Oh, wait, we’re back to that ‘do as I say not as I do’ thing again. Yep, I’m expected to give loyalty to a person that basically just gave me the finger. Sooo not going to happen.

 

To say I was angry barely scratches the surface of the emotion I felt at that point but it got better. Yes, I say that with a good helping of sarcasm. It seems someone, and we still have no clue who although we have our thoughts, deleted the NR author loop. Yep. Poof. Gone. DELETE! This was the ‘official’ NR author loop. The one where management and staff were able to send announcements and authors were able to communicate with each other in order to offer support, advice, knowledge, etc. All the publishers I’m with have a loop of this kind and it’s invaluable to an author for many reasons as I mentioned. I’ve learned so much from these collective ‘brain-trust’ groups in the years since I was first published. When this ‘poof’ happened I had one thought and one thought only. This is about to implode completely and they don’t want us to talk to each other about it. Scary for any author. Whether you’ve been in the business for years or not doesn’t matter. To have your one connection to the publisher walk and then have the only line of communication between you and your fellow authors severed isn’t just shocking, it’s terrifying because without information we’re in the dark. Now some of us might like the dark and that’s fine but when those lights go out you want to be in the same room you were always in not suddenly transported to a foreign one.

 

Now I have no intention of going over what has transpired over the internet since this all went down. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. It blows my mind the level to which some people will stoop all in the name of ‘rightness’ but I will say this. Anything and I mean ANYTHING I said in a private loop that was copied and sent to persons not in the group OR plastered across the internet for the world to see I would say ANYWHERE. I’m not ashamed of my own feelings or opinions and really don’t care for the high school playground type mentality that myself and other NR authors have been subjected to. And I’m not even going to get started on the threats that hold water like a sieve. This is NOT professional behavior. No matter how ‘right’ you think it is.

 

I’m still waiting for some sort of communication from NR. This was promised last week and while I stare at the beginning of a new one I have to do what’s right for me no matter what the new NR management have to say. I’m not prepared to turn a blind eye to things like I have in the past. Being the nice guy didn’t get me anywhere, in fact it got me covered in shit that someone else decided to fling around. Whether the new NR management can turn the company around is anyone’s guess, but confidence, respect and support have all be destroyed in the last few days and I for one, am not prepared to blindly trust again. I’ve learned one valuable lesson from all of this. And that’s to remain true to myself. When I thought something was wrong I should not have looked the other way in hope that things would change.

 

While this situation continues I feel in all fairness to myself and my readers I must remove the links from my website to my NR books. I’m not being paid for these at this time and while I love nothing more than having my work available I can’t justify lining someone else’s pockets with the money my stories earn.

 

And finally I’d like to thank my fellow NR authors for their support and friendship. While a number of you have posted blogs on this very topic I won’t be linking to them here. I feel doing so will just add to the malicious, childish behavior of those who have set out to undermine our professional standing while crying woe-is-me over a situation we had no hand in creating. This post is purely to inform my readers and friends of my position and why certain books have disappeared from this website.

 

Thank you

Rhian

Six Sentence Sunday – Doing Logan Pt2 – #SixSunday

Welcome back for another six.

She swung her legs out of the low sports car until her sandals hit the ground. Not once did she look away. Feet firmly planted on the curb she stared at him for what seemed like hours but could only be seconds.

Meredith turned and pushed herself out of the seat. The black car so low to the ground she had to bend almost double to peer back inside.

“So, are you coming?”

 

You can find all the details on Doing Logan HERE!

 

And don’t forget to check out all the other Six Sentence Sunday participants HERE!

Five for Friday.

Five for Friday is simple. The first five pages of one of my backlist. Enjoy.

Chapter One

 

Timber crashed against timber. Windows rattled in their frames and the hardwood floor vibrated beneath her bare feet.

Time to face the music.

Rowan turned toward the door. She knew what she would see but knowing and seeing were two different things. Silhouetted by the sun, the six-foot-four wall of solid muscle standing in the doorway was menacing in appearance and attitude. She should be terrified but she’d never been afraid of Quinn. She knew to the depth of her soul that he’d never hurt her no matter what she’d done.

“Hello, Quinn.”

“Get your things, you’re coming home.”

Rowan rolled her eyes. He hadn’t changed. Six years hadn’t tempered his demanding personality. Then again it had done little to curb her rebellious nature and need to provoke him. In fact, it had increased her need to make her own decisions. Her independence had come at a cost. Being separated from her family, her home—her mate. It had almost cost her sanity.

“No.” She wasn’t going to allow Quinn or her brother to tell her what to do anymore. She’d finally come home to face her destiny and her mate but she was here on her terms, best to get everyone used to the new Rowan from the start.

“No?” Quinn’s brow creased and the confusion swirling in his caramel brown eyes almost made her back down. Almost.

She sucked in a deep breath, stiffened her spine and straightened her shoulders.

“I’m not coming to Whispering Creek yet. I need time.”

“Time? For what? And why the hell didn’t you tell me you were on an earlier flight?” Anger and hurt simmered in his voice.

“I need to adjust to being home, Quinn.”

“You’re not home. Your home is Whispering Creek—by my side.”

“I am home. Whispering Mountains is home.”

“You’re not staying here. Get your things or I will.”

“No.”

“Rowan,” he growled.

“Quinn, please try to understand. I’ve been gone six years—”

“Exactly. You’ve spent too long away from me already. Get your stuff.”

“No. I’m not leaving the cabin until I’m ready.”

He took a step toward her, a growl rumbling deep in his bare chest and his eyes flared amber with the anger her disobedience raised. She put up a hand and stood her ground.

“Don’t you dare come any closer.” To her surprise, he stopped. She swallowed over the lump in her throat. “Please, Quinn. You have to understand. I’ve ignored my coyote for six years. I can’t even remember what she looks like. I need to reconnect, need to be comfortable in both my skins. I can’t do that if I have to deal with the pack.”

Commotion behind Quinn drew both their gazes. Brogan stood at the door stomping snow and mud from his boots. He stepped into the room and threw a bag at Quinn.

“Get dressed,” Brogan barked at Quinn but his eyes were on Rowan. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

Great. Two alphas to deal with. On their own she knew she could handle them but together, batting for the same cause…

Rowan closed her eyes, tried to focus on what she knew she wanted. What she needed. Dragging in more oxygen, she steeled her determination to get them to see it from her side. The swish of cloth and the metallic hiss of a zipper closing snapped her eyes open.

She breathed easier. Now that Quinn had some clothes on she wouldn’t have to deal with the distraction of his naked body. And what a gorgeous body it was, all sculpted muscle and smooth male skin. Memories of exploring his hard male flesh with her hands sent a shiver down her spine. She curled her fingers, clenched them tight to stop her hands from reaching out to touch.

How she hadn’t jumped him the second he slammed through the door stark naked was beyond her. There was not one day, one night over the last six years where her body hadn’t craved his and all the pleasure tangling with him gave her. She licked her dry lips before speaking to her brother.

“Hello to you too, Brogan.”

He looked sheepish for all of two seconds before his face drew into an angry scowl. Rowan sighed. She really didn’t want their first meeting to be clouded with anger. But then what she wanted and what she got were rarely the same.

“When did you get in? And why didn’t you tell us you were coming early?”

The coffee machine dinged, signaling it was ready. A shot of caffeine was just what this occasion needed. At least she needed it. She turned, reached into the cupboard for two more cups and poured each of them full to the brim. None of them took milk and she’d given up sugar a few years ago.

Quinn moved up beside her, close but not touching. Heat radiated off him and his scent flowed around her, through her. Breathing deeply she pulled him in, filled her lungs with the smell she’d gone so long without.

“Here.” He held the sugar bowl out to her.

Raising her gaze to his, she said, “I don’t take sugar anymore.”

Shock bloomed in his eyes, then confusion.

“It’s just one of many things that have changed, Quinn.” She tried not to squirm when he leaned in close, sniffed at her neck, her breasts. She knew he was scenting for another male. He wouldn’t find one. “That hasn’t.”

A low rumble was Rowan’s only warning. He turned quickly, slanting his mouth over hers. Crushing pressure and his probing tongue had her opening to him. Need slammed into her. Quinn wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her off the floor and against his body. His hard length trapped between them. Her hands gripped his shoulder, slid into the hair at his nape and over his scalp. She tugged his head closer. Their teeth bumped and scraped and the kiss turned volcanic.

Heat blazed through her blood, pumping into her breasts and pussy, throbbing to a tribal beat only Quinn could drum up. She bent her legs, curled them around his hips and ground her pounding clit on his cock. A snarl vibrated in her chest, her coyote snapped at her control and threatened to break free. Twisting her head, she ripped her mouth from his. It was too much. She felt her grip weaken, knew the beast would spring forward at any second.

“Stop,” she panted.

He didn’t hear her. His mouth traveled along her jaw and down her neck. Rowan’s muscles stretched, her teeth lengthened and her claws popped out and dug into Quinn’s scalp.

“Quinn!” Brogan’s shout penetrated the hammering in her ears.

Her legs dropped to the floor as Quinn pushed her away to look at her. It was too little too late.

“Fuck!” The word exploded from his mouth.

The animal she’d denied for so long broke free and she shifted before he let her go.

 

Quinn stared at Rowan.

What the hell just happened?

One minute she was in his arms the next she was shifting. He let go, allowed her to slide to the floor as she changed to coyote. If he wasn’t so freaked out he’d laugh at the sight of her in T-shirt and shorts. Brogan made it across the room as Quinn dropped to his knees beside her.

“What the hell happened?” Brogan’s words echoed his own thoughts.

“I don’t know.”

Quinn stroked the fur along her neck. Rowan’s eyes drifted closed and she lowered to her belly on a sigh. Her movements were lethargic—listless, as she settled into a comfortable position. A shudder rippled down her canine body and her breathing evened out, slowed, deepened. He knew she’d taken a run earlier, that’s how he knew she was here. Brogan had asked him to check on the group of naturals living up on Whispering Ridge—make sure they had a food source. He’d been heading back when he smelled her. Rowan’s scent was imprinted on his soul, he’d know it anywhere.

He had run the rest of the way back to the house as fast as his human legs would take him, only to discover she wasn’t there. His nose never failed him, he had known she was close. He’d yelled for Brogan to follow, stripped out of his clothes and taken to the forest in coyote form. Excitement and fear in equal measures had swamped him. What was she doing up the mountain? Why hadn’t she told him she was arriving today?

Rowan’s warmth and scent soaked into him. His fingers tangled in her coat, trailed down her neck and over her side. She whined softly, snuffled and settled back down when he petted her head and murmured soothing words. It didn’t matter how she’d gotten here or why she’d come without telling him or Brogan. What mattered was the years of waiting were over.

Rowan was finally home.

“Is she asleep?” Brogan’s whispered words were laced with concern.

“Yeah, I think so.” Quinn scooped her up in his arms, bundled her against his chest as best he could. Brogan steadied him as he got to his feet. “I’ll put her on the sofa, closer to the fire.”

“Is she sick?”

Coyote Home is available from Ellora’s Cave, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Sony, iBooks and All Romance eBooks.

 

Coyote Home is also available in the Coyote Hunger print anthology along with Coyote Wild and Coyote Run from Ellora’s Cave, Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

 
Want five more first pages? Check out these sites!
Jambrea Jo Jones
Bianca D’Arc
Lila Dubois
Mari Carr

Tuesday Tease – Spin The Bottle

Spin The Bottle: Party Games Book 4

Available for pre-order at AMAZON

Mackenzie stood just inside the front door—briefcase in one hand, handle of his wheeled bag in the other—and stared at all the strangers in his house. Not strangers exactly, some of the faces were very well known, but they weren’t his friends, or acquaintances for that matter.

“I’ll kill her.” The words rumbled through his lips on a harsh breath and were completely drowned out by the throbbing beat of the torturous mash-up the DJ was playing.

From where he stood, Mac could see the guy standing in the far corner of the living room surrounded by state-of-the-art equipment. Dressed in baggy clothes, with a multitude of gold jewellery, dark glasses and dreadlocks dripping off his head, the man was a stark reminder of why the club scene no longer appealed.

Mac curled his fingers tighter around his bag handles as he scanned the crowd to no avail. She was nowhere to be seen. With a growl, he turned and headed for the stairs. He took them two at a time, his ears ringing and his heart pounding, whether from anger at her latest effort to annoy him or the horrible mix of music assaulting the walls, he didn’t know. Upstairs proved difficult to navigate with a line of scantily clad women queuing for the bathroom. Trying not to bash his luggage into any of them, he wove his way towards his room.

He avoided eye contact and ignored the suggestive comments. Halfway along the corridor something brushed over his arse and his steps faltered. Unsure if he’d been felt up or not, he kept moving, but a definite pinch to one butt cheek had him jerking and quickening his pace. Mac wasn’t about to stop and confront anyone. He wanted to reach the safety of his room before any of the vultures managed to get her claws into him. He knew the type—rich, spoilt and totally self-absorbed.

Mac had learned his lesson about those kinds of females very early in life. Watching the plastic, shallow creatures fawn all over his best friend for most of their lives had certainly opened his eyes to the many pitfalls of the female gender. Toss in Lachlan’s step-mother, and Mackenzie considered himself an expert on the numerous wiles of women. Reaching the end of the hall, he wrapped his hand around the door knob and breathed a sigh of relief as he entered his room, shut the door behind him and flipped the lock.

 

Find the first three Party Games books HERE!

Six Sentence Sunday – Doing Logan Pt1 – #sixsunday

 

Welcome back for another six. For the next few weeks I’m sharing six from Doing Logan. It’s short but I think you get the idea of where things are going from here.  Enjoy!

“If I come in there, it won’t be for coffee. I’m too old for games so I’ll tell it to you straight. I want you. I’ve always wanted you.” He leaned closer. “And if I come in for coffee I’ll have you.”

You can find out all the details on Doing Logan HERE!  

 

And don’t forget to check out the other authors participating this week HERE!