Midnight Craving

Midnight Craving, my first release with Samhain, is out today. Writing this novella was so much fun. There's just something about sexy half-angels and tempting half-demons that revs my engine! Working with my fabulous editor, Deborah Nemeth, to tighten the storyline and amp up the plot was just as cool. I really learned a lot on this book.

I hope you'll enjoy the first installment in Jace and Isla's story! Can't wait to get the next one out to you!

When the craving takes hold, the only thing to do is ride it out…

Midnight Vice, Book 1

Patrolling Houston's gritty supernatural underbelly has its perks. For Isla Alvarez, it's working alongside nephilim SWAT Officer Jace Lane. Ruggedly handsome and possessed of mad skills, Jace embodies everything she's ever wanted.

Unfortunately, the demonic blood pumping through her veins keeps them separated, since relationships between human descendants of archangels and demons aren't actively encouraged. Staying away from him, though, is impossible after she winds up on the receiving end of a nasty sexual-compulsion curse, courtesy of a sadistic vampiress. Suddenly Isla is overwhelmed with a life-threatening lust only Jace can sate.

Jace's principles were once strong enough to resist his longing for the alluring Isla, but in the face of her desperate craving, his desire breaks free—leaving him wondering if she's not the only one affected by the spell. He'd be more than happy to satisfy Isla's increasing need for sexual release, if they weren't in a race against time to reverse the curse before it turns deadly.

For Isla, it's not just her life she's worried about losing. It's her heart.

Warning: Contains wicked hot shower sex, raging-hormone-induced naughty language, driving under the influence (of overwhelming lust) and smiting of demons and vamps.

Excerpt:

Jace sagged as his feet finally touched solid ground in what appeared to be a parking garage. He hated teleporting. It just wasn't natural for bodies to move through time and space like that. It was also an irksome reminder of the stark differences between them. While demons and archangels could appear anywhere at will, only the descendants of demons inherited that trick. It had to do with the laws of temptation.

Isla patted his back and told him to breathe. He shot her an annoyed look. Before he could offer a snappy retort, his eyes landed on the silver '69 Chevelle SS right behind her. "Whoa!"

"My baby." A broad grin on her face, Isla fished a key ring from her pocket and unlocked the passenger door. "It was Daddy's project car. He never got around to fixing it up while he was alive. Took me years to learn enough to do it myself."

"Why have I never seen this before?" Jace ran his hands over the wide black racing stripes on the hood. "I would have noticed this in the parking lot at work."

Isla shrugged. "This is my pleasure vehicle. Besides, it's just easier to skip between work and home. If I wasn't so damned tired, we'd make chase like that, but I just don't think I have the energy today."

At her weary tone, Jace gave her the once-over. She looked a bit deflated and haggard around the eyes. "I don't want you expending yourself, Isla. Renata's likely to put up a hellacious fight. You're going to need your strength."

"And supplies." Isla walked around and popped the trunk.

Jace whistled as he took in the stockpile she had hidden there. "And here I was worrying we'd have to hit up headquarters for a resupply."

Smiling, she snatched a backpack from the trunk and shoved it into his hands. "I'd prefer it if you didn't open any of the demon-vaporizing powders and potions in there. It's windy and a face full of that shit really stings."

Jace nodded as he rifled through the backpack and considered the finer points of fighting demons with a half-demon at his side. He pulled out a handful of bullet clips. "I'll stick to the modified rounds."

"Good choice." Isla slammed the trunk closed. "Vamos."

Jace slid into the passenger's seat and exchanged some of his vampire-killing weapons for demon-vanquishing ones. The car roared to life, his seat vibrating beneath him. He heard the snap of Isla's lap belt and glanced over.

Her eyebrows lifted. "I'd buckle up if I were you."

Jace didn't have to be told twice. He dropped the clips in his lap and grappled for his lap belt. He'd barely snapped it in place when Isla pressed the clutch and gas and shot out of the parking space. She sped down the curving levels of the garage, wheels squealing, feet moving back and forth between the pedals with the barest of pauses.

When they reached the exit facing out on a busy downtown street, he expected the vehicle to stop—but it didn't. Eyes wide, he pumped an imaginary brake. They raced onto the street, the tail end of the Chevelle swinging wide before it snapped straight. Miraculously, they fit into the tiniest space between speeding cars. "Jesus Christ!"

"Calm down," Isla chided, her hand effortlessly guiding the gear shift as she depressed and released the clutch. "You know I can see things."

"I don't care." Jace gripped his lap belt and eyed the dashboard. He cursed the lack of airbags. "For all we know, the curse has fucked with your radar. I'd like to not find out you're off by a few seconds when we're T-boned by a semi."

Isla rolled her eyes and zipped down the bustling street toward a northbound I-45 on-ramp. He breathed easier at the thought of more space for her jarring maneuvers but his relief was short-lived. She punched the gas, moving through the gears as she tried to outrace the semi barreling toward them in the merging lane. Like a bat out of hell, she swerved onto I-45, cutting a hair's breadth in front of the semi and sliding across two lanes of traffic to an opening.

"Where the hell did you learn to drive? The James Bond School for Stunt Drivers?"

Isla snorted. "I wish."

The Chevelle gained speed quickly, bypassing the already-speeding vehicles surrounding it. Isla weaved the car in and out of traffic, making up lost time in their pursuit of the demons who had firebombed his Tahoe. Jace didn't have to ask where they were heading. The last house on the list wasn't actually in Houston but on the shores of Lake Woodlands, an extremely wealthy enclave just north of Houston. Unless the Porsche was stopped by one of the Midnight Vice patrol units, it was almost a given the demons would beat them to Renata's last hideout. And that was a bad thing.

Isla flicked on the stereo. She picked up the iPod stuffed into the console organizer straddling the floorboard hump and plugged an adapter into the cigarette lighter. Seconds later, eighties pop—German eighties pop—filtered through the speakers.

"'99 Luftballons'?" Jace couldn't help but laugh. "Weren't you still in diapers when this came out?"

"Yeah. Not so much." Isla checked her rearview mirror. "I didn't make my debut into this world until three or so years after this song hit the big time." She frowned at him. "But, really? You're going to laugh at my choice of music? Dude, how many times have I heard you belting out 'Pour Some Sugar on Me' in the showers at work?"

Embarrassment gripped his chest. Was he really that loud? Who else had heard him singing? "What are you doing hanging around the guy's locker room anyway?"

Isla giggled at his defensive tone. "Well, you know me, Jace. I'm all about the sausage fest."

From anyone else, he would have been appalled, but from Isla it was par for the course. He barked with laughter.

She quirked a mischievous smile. "My quips, they slay."

"Something like that." Jace wiped the corners of his eyes. He had to admit the day had been enjoyable despite the absolute absurdity of their circumstances. He was beginning to understand why some officers left SWAT for patrol or detective work. There was obviously something nice about spending one's nights with the same person, working the same leads and cleaning up the streets. Usually he balked at the idea of leaving the often chaotic but always fulfilling world of SWAT. Entertaining the idea of being assigned a partner like Isla didn't.

His gaze drifted to the setting sun. Another half hour and it would be dark. Renata would be loose on the town. Even with the dragnet keeping her contained to Houston, there was just too much ground to cover in such a short amount of time.

Jace snuck a furtive glance in Isla's direction. The relaxed expression she'd worn after their laugh had vanished. Tension radiated throughout her features. Her right knuckles were nearly white from gripping the shifter. Her left hand shook against the steering wheel. She swallowed hard and kept her focus forward on the traffic.

Over the last few hours, he'd learned to recognize the signals. She needed him. Now.

Without a word, he unbuckled his seat belt and slid across the bench seat to the middle spot. He snapped his new belt in place and cupped her neck before pressing a kiss to her temple. "Can you keep driving?"

She gulped. "I think so."

"We can pull over somewhere."

Isla quickly caught his gaze. "We don't have time."

Jace nodded and kissed her neck, a teasing grin curving his lips. "Try not to kill us."

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