Today I am teaming up with Reading Lark After Dark to offer you two chances to win an electronic copy of Soul Mates. Soul Mates is a duet of short stories containing Souls Caught Fire by myself and Wolf Pack by Ashley Nemer. Enter to win by commenting on this post, then head on over to Reading Lark After Dark and enter again by commenting on the post there.
Oh, and don't forget to head on over to Four Seduced Muses to check out the other blogs and sexy giveaways. Happy Hopping!
Please note, this Rafflecopter is for the Grand Prize only. To win your copy of Soul Mates, rate this scene on a caliente scale: one being cold and 5 being piping hot. Tell us what you love most about it. And don't forget to leave your email address so we can reach you if you win.
Need a little teaser to draw you in? Here is a tempting tidbit from Souls Caught Fire.
Slowly, Katrine stood and fangs slid back beneath the gums as the sateen dress relaxed over her curves.
“Why are you here?” She asked exasperated.
“I came to speak to you about tonight.”
Her eyes rolled at him, voice chilled, “Oh I believe you have said quite enough. I think the only thing you should be saying now is giving me a reason why I shouldn’t drain you dry right now!”
Thomas was quiet, thoughtful for a moment before he rose.
“I wanted to rip Marcus apart for touching you.”
His tone was matter-of-fact, but there was an ever present edge curled around each word spoken. Katrine stood stunned before him. She blinked, speechless.
“Well hallelujah!” His arms went up in the air. “I found something that actually shuts you up!” His arms dropped as he moved toward her, strides quick until he was before her. “This would be where you speak.”
“You’re just sore that he got to the whore before you did,” she fired back at him. Thomas flinched but was undeterred.
“A man tends to say things when put into a predicament between ripping his friend’s throat out and ripping the female’s dress off. Both tend to be frowned upon. I chose...inadequately you might think. I prefer to think I chose as best as possible.”
Katrine stepped around him and waltzed casually toward the large window overlooking the harbour. The illusion of collectedness, she hoped, was pulled into place and that Thomas Rykers would not sense the actual affect he truly had on her. Even now, despite her wishes, desire flipped her insides and nervousness of the reason behind his visit had her feeling the temperature of her very core rise.
“You are just like Marcus. You both want something neither can have. Now get out!”
The air crackled around them, between them. His stare bore into her.
“No. I don’t believe I’ll be going on my way just yet.”
He needed to get out of her sight, out of her reach. Fast. Katrine whirled around and briskly stepped in front of him, hands thrust outward as she pushed him with a yell, demanding him to leave.
Oh god, there was that smell again.
The taunting, thigh clenching aroma of sandalwood and sage surged and permeated the room. It stole her senses and made her weak in the knees.
“That smell...” she whispered.
Thomas muttered something beneath his breath and in a blindingly quick movement Katrine was in his arms. Their lips tangled in a mesh of need and raw desire. Katrine pushed away.
“No! We can’t do this. Our kinds don’t mix...too different. We need to stop this.”
Thomas’s eyes, now bright amber, stared down at her. “Why not? Since when are you a good little girl? You’re right, I want you because I shouldn’t. I’ll have you because I can. Now shut up.”
Slap. His jawed clenched, lips thinned as he glared down at her. Katrine could see the fury in his glare, but he showed nothing but restraint.
Her dainty hand stung from the force of the slap across his cheek. Katrine was wild inside with fury and her hunger for him. She shouldn’t want him. Her body shouldn’t crave for a touch she’d barely felt, but damn it she did. Normally her skin felt cool; normally heat was never felt by her, but right now her skin felt afire, heat rippling beneath her skin. A war raged to both slap him again and pull him closer. Katrine’s hand raised, no decision over which thought would win. With a jerky movement her hand swept, and instead of a slap, her fist wound around his jacket lapel and tugged him closer.
“Came to your senses did you, sweet cheeks?” He smirked in victory.
A growl rumbled in her chest. “Shut up, wolf, you talk too damn much. Just. Kiss. Me!”
That was all Thomas needed. He obliged all too happily.
A sweet symphony of clothing being torn and mewling moans pierced through the quiet of the room. Torn pieces of the red sateen dress littered the floor. Another wrench of fabric had his shirt drifting to the floor mere feet away from the dress and right beside his jacket. Katrine wasn’t sure how they had managed to get naked so quickly, but she wasn’t a girl who would complain, especially not about this.
Flesh to flesh and what a moment; Thomas was hard and throbbing against her stomach. Fingers twined through his silky hair, and with a sharp tug of his hair, she bit his lip as a fang nicked the supple flesh.
“I’m not breakable,” she assured.
A mischievous glint lit in his eyes with a smirk while his tongue ran along his lip, tasting the beading blood there.
You want more, don't you? All you have to do is comment below and rate this scene on a caliente scale: one being cold and 5 being piping hot. Tell us what you love most about it. And don't forget to leave your email address so we can reach you if you win.
(You can read a tempting tidbit from Wolf Pack at Reading Lark After Dark.)