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Blurb:
Reluctant to give up
her carefree life of partying among the mortals when the hot-as-sin Bhyrne
comes to fetch her for the queen, Zena uses her succubus wiles to entice him,
or at least delay the inevitable trip to the royal court. Once in the demon
stronghold, hidden deep within the Catskill mountains, she learns the reason
for the summons: she must choose a consort within two days.
Zena needs a mate.
Bhyrne needs to mate. With time
running out for both of them, they each turn to 1Night Stand. With
time running out, can Madame Eve come to the rescue?
Buy Links:
Excerpt:
Holy
freeze gun, Batman. The words died before she managed to expose
them to air. Her mouth snapped shut.
One of the Queen’s guards stood before her, huge
and tall, nearly twice the size of most of the other males in the joint, a
hella hunka supernatural male. Clearly not human, although Hugo Boss’d to his
Adam’s apple in an apparent bid to fit in among the humans trolling for hot
sex, illicit drugs, watered-down booze and loud music. Beneath the fabric of
the unstructured designer suit, the toned muscles of a demonic warrior rolled
like tidal waves. Even without the small lapel pin the uninformed might mistake
for the The Rolling Stones’ logo, she’d recognize him for a captain of the
guard. Maybe the Queen’s own Captain.
Hellfire and cotton candy.
Trouble. T-R-O-U-B-L-E.
But, by the goddess,
whattahottie! Despite her certainty that his presence in the
club corridor boded ill for her, the force of her sudden hunger shook her.
Like
lightning.
Thunder.
A
desperate bolt out of the blue.
Instant
connection to him on the paranormal plane, as if he’d wrapped her aura in gold
chains and tugged her to him. But did that fast lane to heaven run one way or
two?
A
grim expression straightened the lines of what otherwise might have been a
generous, sensuous mouth. A military buzz cut had weed-whacked hair the color
of iron. And it didn’t stop there. Without doubt, metal fortified every single
cell in the massive male’s body, pure titanium flowing in his veins. The stern
planes and angles of a hard-edged, swoon-worthy face set grimly as cement.
Though he lounged in the hallway like any Archie or Jughead waiting in line to
discharge his rented beer in a urinal, he exuded authority, his carriage and
bearing such that he made the others look like a pack of Twizzlers. Oh. Yeah.
More than a mere guardsman, she guessed. An enforcer.
Ruh-roh.
About the Author:
Taryn is an Olympic caliber athlete egg roller and spends a great
deal of her time petitioning the U.S.O.C. to introduce a fantail shrimp
competition. When she's not bungee jumping off the Palisades or parasailing up
and down the Hudson River, she devotes her time to caring for her aging pet
walrus, arranging her voodoo doll-pin collection and practicing rhythmic
chants. At this moment, she is busy sweeping up the loose masala chai tea
leaves she spilled all over the kitchen floor. (Probably because she needs
COFFEE.) Wait. Is that something…sparkly?
Taryn hangs around a lot on Facebook and Twitter with her trillions of fans and pops in
at Goodreads from time to time. You can catch her on her website, http://tarynkincaid.com, and her
blog, http://dreamvoyagers.blogspot.com where she lives for
comments!
Thanks for sharing the great excerpt. Heat wave sounds like my kind of book and I am looking forward to reading it. evamillien at gmail dot com
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