self-publish
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Part Nine Tangled Moon (Book One) Her irises were jet black, light reflecting in silver-shot threads off of them. Her scent made it hard for him to think about anything but her. It didn’t matter that he hardly knew her. He had to touch her. He had to. Nick reached out, Danielle growling when his
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Part Five Zipporah tucked her skirts under her and sat on the bank with her knees against her chest and her arms around her legs. Peter sounded a bird call; a turtledove. She tightened her grip around her legs. He did it again. Her shoulders moved. He repeated it a third time wondering how long
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Part Seven After sacrificing himself to a vampire to save her, he’d spent a month as a paralytic. His magic had eventually healed him, but his uncle, who was also High Councilor, suspected Lothar had become territorial over her. It was a serious defect in their kind. A shapeshifting male with Territorial Aggression could not
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Tangled Moon: …She swallowed thickly. “Um… maybe we can just talk about something almost normal.” “What did you want to talk about?” “Is there any of that wine left?” “Yes. I’ll get you some.” He’d cleaned up the broken glass while she’d been in the bath. No sense in leaving glass where his mortal charge
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Tangled Moon: …He’d been a soldier in his mortal life, trained to kill. He’d spent the first hundred-and-fifty years of his un-death killing, at times indiscriminately. Then he’d decided he’d had enough. Of killing, of Lazarus and his other sons. He was the only one who hadn’t been created by Lazarus. He’d been adopted. Eventually,
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Tangled Moon: Jonas watched her in his antique wrought iron bed, her chest rising and falling as she slept. She was wearing a beige sheath dress that came barely to her mid-thigh. No ornamentation. She wasn’t even wearing earrings. That part seemed right. Somehow jewelry wouldn’t actually have enhanced her at all. She didn’t seem
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Deduction Part Forty-One “Argg… Liam.” Becca picked up his greatcoat, holding it out in front of her and eyeing it like it might come alive and attack her at any moment. “We’ll never get this smell out of here.” He picked up his fiddle. “Take that down to Mrs. Anderson for me, will you?” Her
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Part Six “You feel different,” she said, rubbing her arms. “You’re harder.” Every muscle jerked tight at that. “What?” “You’re chest. It feels hard.” “Irregular meals and heavy labor,” he managed. “Your sword hand is scarred now.” She’d noticed. “Yes.” “Does the scar go up your arm?” He looked at it, mostly covered by his
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Part Four She breathed in a long, slow pull, as if reading Nick through his scent. He couldn’t help but to breathe her in too. It was involuntary. She smelled as good as she looked, but he couldn’t place the scent, like some rare and expensive spice. Sweet. Exotic. Danielle’s brown eyes darkened to black,
Darcy Branwyn 