Paranormal Paramours (Print)

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494 pages | Trade Paperback | 6x9"
Date of publication: 09/25/2015
  • ISBN: 978-1-943528-21-9
  • Model: 117282 words

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Black Sail won these awards as a stand-alone story.

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Foundling won this award as part of another anthology.

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Heat Rating: 4 Flames

 

From gods to vampires, shifters to ghosts, magic users to fairy tales... Enemies make strange bedfellows and opposites attract.

It seems a balance, the line between Fate and Chaos, but it's a war. When one pushes, the other pushes back. Welcome to Fates Castle, home of the elders, readers of the love fates. When Ondrea is called to find her mate, she thinks she can't possibly latch onto the wrong man. Is Fate ever so simple?

Traia is a mistress witch, seduced by a werewolf that inexplicably passed through her wards and shields. Now that she knows what Galen is, he'll stop at nothing to kill her. Or will he?If she was any other witch, Galen would be running the other way...fast. But Traia is his mate.

When a strange man washes up on the shores of her beloved Naxos, Ariadne longs to be his. Dionysis has no clue who Ari is or how she came to Naxos, but he won't rest until he knows--and until she is his. Can a former princess with no faith in gods learn to love again?

Mattayas is the eldest son of the alpha pair, the buck destined to lead his Wul pack when his father dies. Anha is a proud young Lyx fem, a strong hunter and fighter for her nest. Their mating instincts drive this unlikely pair together, sending Mattayas into a murderous rage that leaves them with horrific choices to make.

Jaysen Magal had inherited all his father possessed: power, position, money...and Senna Ravensky. Senna had been enslaved to his father, a bitter, unwilling ally in Jedean's rise in the mages' ranks. Jaysen has watched her for years, his hunger rivaling her own, forbidden to touch...until now.

Have you ever felt you were only seeing half the story? Why did the three bears never see Goldilocks again? How bad was the Little Girl with The Curl in the Middle of her Forehead? What happened to Georgie Porgy?

Amunmaruku visits her in her dreams, a long-dead Egyptian prince, whose tomb Anna is excavating. He haunts her in her waking moments, making her question her sanity. Is it her psychometry or something more sinister?

Raised in the temple by servants and trained daily in sacred technology, the godlings lead a fiercely competitive but pampered lifestyle. Those who are fast, precise, and aloof are worthy of the GODs' continued attention. Those who fail mysteriously disappear.

 

This anthology includes:

Nevermore

Black Sail

Enslaved

Animal Instincts

Foundling

A Perfect Record

Sweeter then Honey

When She Was Good

Fates Magic

We Shall Live Again

And It Was Good

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Traia sat before the fire, fuming that she'd been reduced to this. She was a witch. A witch! She was supposed to be smart. At the very least, she was supposed to be more powerful than her adversaries were, than the pathetic creatures that skulked in the darkness.

How a pointed-eared, shape-shifting mutt had tricked her in the first place was a mystery. His getting a hook in her soul was unbelievable. Traia was hardly a dabbler or even a journeywoman. Far from it.

She was Mistress Traia, strong in the natural magicks and learned in spells of protection and healing. People traveled days to barter for her aid. Those who were in great need paid modestly for what they sought. Those who asked for the frivolous or foolish paid more than they could afford as a lesson.

If she failed tonight, those days were over. All she had to do was keep the stinking werewolf away from her...or kill him.

For some reason she couldn't name, the thought of killing him sent a completely unwarranted pain through her. It wasn't right to feel this way. If he reached her again, her wards were useless.

"He'll rip my throat out." Traia pressed a hand to it, abruptly nauseated. Losing her livelihood would be bad enough. Losing her life was decidedly worse.

And what werewolf wouldn't kill a witch who knew what he was? None that she'd heard of.

 

* * * *

 

Galen watched the cottage from the tree line, his palms sweating at what he was about to attempt. Of all the women to set off his mating instincts, the usually fair and kind Goddess had cursed him with a witch.

What did I do to deserve this one? He tried to live a good life, despite his cursed birth. Galen wasn't a nomad like most of his kind. He didn't kill farmers' stock and deprive the innocent of their livelihood. But he'd obviously gone wrong somehow.

"Badly wrong," he muttered.

His shoulder ached in a stark reminder that Traia would doubtless try to kill him again, given the chance to. It had taken several weeks to heal the wound that would have killed any human man.

Had he been any slower, or Traia's aim been true, Galen wouldn't have needed the reminder. Instead, he would be the occupant of a shallow grave, laden with monkshood and witches' potions to guarantee his descent into hell. Still, he couldn't help wondering if Traia's aim was so bad or if her heart hadn't been in the attack.

There was only one way to solve this. He would have to go to her. Either the night would end with Traia as his mate, or Galen would be dead by her hand. With his instincts raging, Galen couldn't walk away. Nor could he harm her.

He could, however, seduce her again, if she gave him the chance to do so. Just the thought of it had him hard in anticipation. It was a certain wager that Traia wouldn't submit without a fight, and a buck in the mating cycle loved nothing more than a challenge.

The tickle of the near-full moon on his neck reminded Galen that it was time to claim his mate. "Or die trying," he reminded himself. That was a disheartening thought, but it was accurate. There was a good reason bucks avoided the chance of scenting a mate.

Galen ambled to the border of her circle of power, shivering at the tingle of her wards and shields against his skin. They were stronger now, but by the decree of the Goddess Herself, they could not keep him from what was his own.

Traia's scent had drawn him in, but the invitation of her protective spells had confirmed what she was to him. Only someone who meant Traia no harm would be welcomed in, and his mate was the only person in the world Galen wasn't in danger of harming.

Smiling at the irony of the situation, he stepped across the line of power. He couldn't harm Traia--didn't want to harm her--but she was about to do her best to kill him. Though her magick was useless against him, her blade wasn't.

"Yet." A smile twisted his lips at the thought of the truth she would have to face, then disappeared at his mind's rebuke. She would only have to face it if he succeeded.

Caution firmly in mind, Galen took the final steps and knocked smartly on her door. He bit back a laugh at her muttered curses.

 

* * * *

 

Traia didn't question who knocked at her door. With vampires, weres, and zombies hunting the night, no human came to her door after sundown, late enough that he couldn't complete his business with her and return to the safety of his own shields before the sky darkened. She rarely saw visitors after mid-afternoon.

He knocked again, a jaunty little children's song backbeat. Traia crossed one leg over the other, making a conscious effort at ignoring him. Though it probably wouldn't discourage him, Traia was hardly about to invite him in.

He's not a vampire, she reminded herself. Refusing to invite him in would make little difference.

Vampire or not, I am not welcoming a foul creature into my home.

He knocked a third time, a more impatient cadence, heavier than the previous inquiries. "Traia." His voice was soft, taunting, and all too familiar.

Traia bristled. "I've been nice so far, mutt. Push me much farther and I'll make cuffs of your hide."

He laughed at the warning. "Now, Traia. The fact that I'm knocking on your door should tell you something."

"That you're persistent and stupid?" she ventured rudely. He deserves no better.

"That your shields and traps won't work against me," he countered.

"They are simple magick. I have stronger." As if to reassure herself, Traia picked up the items she would use to drive him off. Her gaze strayed to the final weapon in her arsenal, and she shuddered at the thought of using it.

"Perhaps." The truth didn't seem to concern him. "Probably so."

"If you enter my home, you will be carried out." Memories of his tall, strong body prompted a silent addition to that statement. By a very strong man or two of lesser strength.

"Would you care to open the door and be proven wrong? I would hate to have to break it down to do so."

The presumption! He really is a dog.

"Traiaaaa..."

She shivered in arousal. Her thighs dampened, and her nipples tightened. It didn't make sense. She knew what he was. Why was he still able to affect her this way?

Traia forced her mouth to unglue. "The door is not bolted."

He hesitated. "You're inviting me in?"

"You wish."

His dark chuckle set off another round of shivers and several warning bells. Traia wished she could claim a sense of dread caused them, but nothing about his approach made her feel it. It was only her mind screaming warnings. It made no sense. Her senses had never failed her so completely before. Then again, neither had her magick.

The door opened, and Traia's mind rioted. She'd invited him in the first time--had she nullified her defenses in the process?

No. He's not a vampire. Vampires were the only ones who nullified the magick with an invitation. Not to mention, the vampire had to be invited in at each visit, and she certainly hadn't done so. Not at the shield line and not at her door.

He stepped into her line of sight, and for a moment, Traia forgot how to breathe. Galen! Goddess, but the man was beautiful. And he knew how to use that cock to keep her in bliss.

Too bad he means to rip my throat out.

As if in agreement, he licked his lips. Traia raised the silver amulet in warning, belatedly musing that she should have simply tied it around her throat.

Galen arched an eyebrow at the move. The door swung shut behind his hand, and he added the bolt for good measure.

Traia stared at him in disbelief. He was cutting off his means of escape. In her moment of indecision, Galen stripped off his shirt and started toward her.

<

 

* * * *

 

Galen inhaled her scent, an intoxicating mix of adrenaline and ready woman. His cock and fangs lengthened in response to the challenge. There was no question Traia wanted him, but she would fight herself and him to deny them both what they needed. It was a witch's way.

Traia scrambled to her feet, gathering up her trinkets of power in a vain attempt to kill him. If she were any other witch, he'd be a mile away and still running. But she was his mate.

Luckily for him, Traia had never studied the wolf tomes. She was the typical superior witch; there was nothing a lowly mutt book could teach her. His lip curled in wry amusement and disgust mixed.

No, there is nothing the wolf tomes can teach you. Nothing except that you are powerless as a human against me...and I am as safe as a puppy with you.

Authors:

Brenna Lyons
About Brenna Lyons:
Fireborn Publishing Main Page

Brenna Lyons wears many hats, sometimes all on the same day: former president of EPIC, author of more than 100 published works, owner of Fireborn Publishing, columnist, special needs teacher, wife, mother...and member in good standing of more than 60 writing advocacy groups.

In her first ten years published in novel-length, she's won 3 EPIC e-Book Awards (out of 15 finalists) and finaled for 3 PEARLS (including one Honorable Mention, second to NY Times Bestseller Angela Knight), 2 CAPAS, and a Dream Realm Award. She's also taken Spinetingler's Book of the Year for 2007.

Brenna writes in 26 established worlds plus stand-alones, poetry, articles and essays. She's a bestseller in indie/e fantasy and horror, straight genre and cross-genres thereof. Brenna has been termed "one of the most deviant erotic minds in the publishing world… not for the weak." (Rachelle for Fallen Angels Reviews) Milieu-heavy dark work is practically Brenna's calling card, with or without the erotic content. She teaches classes in everything from POV studies to advanced editing, networking to marketing. Brenna enjoys hearing from people who read her work and can be reached by e-mail.

Website: http://www.brennalyons.com/

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/brenna.lyons

Email: brennalyons4168@live.com

For more information, please visit the author's webpage.

Other books by Brenna Lyons, Brenna Lyons- COVER ARTIST and Kathryn Lively- EDITOR:


This book was added to our catalog on Thursday 10 September, 2015.

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