They said fairy godmothers
would grant all our wishes.
They said Tinkerbell would die
if we didn’t believe.
They said magic was just pretend.
Once upon a time (in the original, more ominous inflection of the phrase) eldritch creatures stalked the world. They ranged across mountains and deserts and waterways—even the heavens—in a glory of guises. Some of the phaedrealii court were beautiful; some horrific. Some lived in harmony with humans; some…did not. Eventually, the chaos human passions—fear and hatred, joy and desire—drove too many phae to acts of madness. With deadly iron, humans forced the phae to retreat to hollow hills and storybooks.
Then the humans forgot.
But the phae never did.
Welcome to the world of the steel-born phae…
DARK HUNTER’S TOUCH
Book 1 of the Steel Born
Coming August 2012
“I want to see you,” he emphasized. “To be sure…”
“This is what I want.” She spread her wings to either side, making a lure of her own, an irresistible soft landing. “I want you.”
Supporting himself on one arm, he cupped her jaw and leaned in for a long, lingering kiss.
“I want that,” she whispered against his mouth. “And more.”
With a sudden flex of her wings, she rolled them.
He caught the edge of the mattress before they fell. “There’s more where that came from. Much more.” With both his hands free, he roamed her body, reshaping her flesh with each stroke of his fingers, each lap of his tongue.
And somehow, through her skin, he loosened her spirit too, made her soar where her wings had never taken her, urging her toward an elemental release unlike any of the magics she’d known.
But when she looked down, his face was as severe and remote as that brief moment on the beach when he had frightened her. He was holding something back. But why?She gasped, her whole body flush with sensation. Her breasts plumped for his caress, and her nipples drew almost painfully erect. The tingling that rang like silent bells through her depths echoed the ache until her hidden folds wept for his attention.
She touched the chiseled edge of his cheekbone. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “No consequences, remember? The perfect one-night stand.”
“What if I wanted more?”
When she tried to draw back, he tangled his fist in the pendant. The chain tightened at the back of her neck, not biting—not yet—but a tightening snare. “I don’t have anything more. I am nothing more. Just a dream, gone with the morning light.”
His jaw clenched, the muscle flexing against her palm. “That sounds like something a fairy would say as a tease.”
“It is not a tease. It’s only the truth. See? I’m touching you.” She eased
down against his chest, loosening the pendant’s restriction. The brush of her thighs over his didn’t smooth his expression, though. If anything, he clenched harder, all over.
She brushed her cleft down that most rigid of muscles at his center. The jerk of his hips was a truth too, despite the furious set of his mouth. She dipped her head and nibbled at his lower lip. “We have to take what we can, while we can.”
“Definitely spoken like a fairy. La bella dame sans merci.”
A cold draft of disquiet swept through her. From the chill of his words, he seemed almost too familiar with the transgressions of her kin, and the haunting words of Keats’s poem felt uncomfortably close to the truth. “I didn’t mean—”
“You did mean it. You were touching me, remember?” In one powerful heave, he flipped them again so he was on top, pinning her with his knees between her thighs. “Take it then. Take what you want.”
“Vaile…” Despite her weak protest, she wound her legs behind him. The nudge of his erection made the trailing edges of her wings curl inward as
every part of her body made a welcoming nest for him.
His hand worked between them to part her folds, slick with wanting him. The play of his touch made her arch and gasp, and still he held back, making her want and want and want until she thought she would unravel.
She clutched at his biceps, her knees drawn high, while he slid first one finger then two inside her. She writhed against him, a cry caught between
her teeth. This is what it must be to come Undone.
He tilted his head back, the pulse of anger in his throat lost beneath the maddening acceleration of his heartbeat. She felt the tidal pull of his blood, his desire, and still he held himself apart while the whirlpool in her belly and thighs circled ever closer to the verge. Unwilling to go alone—not tonight—she pulled herself up with her hands anchored on the bunched muscles in his shoulders and ducked to bite his nipple. The thud of his heart almost deafened her, and he gasped out her name as he buried himself in one thrust.
Y’all are the first to see the first cover for my new Steel Born series. Although the art depicts Vaile and Imogene going hot and heavy in a dark alley, the scene above takes place in a dark forest cabin. Where’s the “best” place you’ve ever made out?