Samhain Publishing

The higher she climbs, the harder he falls…

Carter Malone is usually the first one to make tracks before a woman starts getting any ideas. Permanent relationships don’t fit into his personal blueprint. Now, for the first time in his life, he’s burning up the sheets with a woman who makes him think about something more permanent…like spending the night. But she’s holding something back, something he can’t quite pin down.

As a woman in a man’s world, Ryan Cooper is used to wearing a target on her back—and hiding her vulnerabilities. She hasn’t let anything, not even the ever-present threat of an epileptic seizure, stop her from working her butt off to get the foreman’s job with her stepfather’s construction company. Then she discovers the guy she’s been dating—okay, having the hottest sex of her life with—is the architect who designed the building she’ll be overseeing. The last thing she needs is anyone thinking she slept with Carter to get the job.

Or worse, feeling sorry for her.

Before the dust clears, things get a lot more complicated. The previous foreman’s injury was no accident, and whoever caused it is taking aim—at the target on Ryan’s back.

Warning: This book contains almost fully clothed sex with a little bit o’ spanking on an OCD-clean desk inside a construction trailer, a rogue set of pencils that just won’t take stay for an answer, and sweet loving in a tub.

Yay! I’m so happy it’s release day. It’s been a long time for me and I sincerely hope you enjoy Seth and Paxton in Tooth and Claw. You’ll have to let me know!

Blurb:

Vampire: (noun) Bloodsucker, murderer, bedpost-notcher, God’s gift to women, fiend.

Seth Gramble is a prince among his people. Half vampire, half jaguar, he is one of a rare few who can shift into an animal form. Both his halves have found their mate in a female detective determined to lump all vampires in with the rogue who killed her former lover. He’s given her six months to see him differently. He’s done waiting.

Paxton Tenor wants nothing to do with a blood-sucking fiend, no matter how much he makes her body sing. Nothing good can come of a vampire. A case she’s working on partners her with Seth, and she’s forced to reconsider her hatred. He doesn’t seem at all like the rogue who sucked the life from her boyfriend in cold blood.

When Seth’s kitty comes out to play, Paxton realizes she’s been stupid to deny herself this man. And when he puts his life on the line to protect hers? All bets are off.

Warning: Let’s be realistic here people; there’s sex. Who doesn’t want to be coerced into bed by a sexy, God’s-gift-to-women vampire? And when they can be undressed and on you before you can blink—hello. Even if said vampire faints at the sight of his own blood…

Excerpt:

Everything in Seth Gramble’s world came to a crashing halt the second Paxton Tenor entered the bar. The singer’s country twang ceased, the clank of beer bottles and glasses disappeared, and the din of loud voices over the cadence of the music evaporated until there was nothing left but her.

He wanted her.

Had wanted her since meeting her six months ago. When they’d crossed paths he’d been working a case as a consultant for Leid’s—a firm that supplied vampires and their extra-sensory perceptions to police departments and private security companies across the country. Seth had run into his best friend, Luke Summers, at the precinct where he was a detective. Luke introduced Seth to his partner, Paxton.

At first she’d been warm toward him, friendly even. Right up to the second Luke mentioned Seth was a vampire. Then she’d gone into lockdown and Seth hadn’t gotten anything but the cold shoulder from her since.

And who could blame her for the emotion, since one of his kind had killed her long-time lover two years ago. One rogue had turned Miss Paxton against vampires for life it seemed.

Two years was long enough to mourn, wasn’t it?

He was surprised he’d made it these last six months without claiming her. Only his business with Leid’s had protected her from his soul-deep desire of having her.

Perhaps wanting her was too soft an expression.

He needed her. In every sense of the word. He needed her trust. Needed her essence surrounding him. Needed her body beneath his, needed to be buried as deep inside her as he could go, his teeth imbedded in her soft skin. Needed her love.

Sitting back, waiting for her to get over her fear of him, wasn’t cutting it anymore. Watching a smile tug at the corners of her beautiful, bow-shaped mouth made Seth decide then and there that now was the time to do something about her dislike of his species.

Paxton smiled again, those full, ripe lips just begging to be kissed. She never looked at him that way, and his jealousy toward the woman now receiving the grin raged beneath his skin.

Just once he wanted that smile directed at him instead of her usual hide-behind-some-excuse reaction whenever he came near.

Paxton Tenor, the one woman in the world made for him, didn’t like him. Or at least didn’t like what he embodied. That bad seed had condemned the whole of his species in her eyes.

Her head tilted back, causing waves of auburn curls caught in a ponytail to cascade down her back and revealing her long, slender neck as she laughed at something her friend said. The sound made his balls tighten and his shaft thicken and harden to the point of pain. His incisors elongated, ready to penetrate the tender skin of her throat, allowing him to drink from her.

If he walked over to her, the melodic, orgasm-inducing laughter would stop, simply because he was near. Her pulse would speed up, allowing him to hear it beating, and the soft whoosh, whoosh would become a persistent hammer in her veins. Her muscles would tense, her hands would shake and a flush would stain her cheeks a pretty shade of pink.

It was the same flush he was sure he’d find on her body when he made her come the first time. And every time thereafter.

He’d make love to her. Soon. Because despite her cool demeanor, her nipples always tightened into little buds and the tell-tale scent of her arousal inevitably wafted across his nose whenever he was near her.

She wanted him.

She grotesquely hated that she did, but she wanted him just the same.

“Seth.”

He allowed the rumble that bubbled from deep inside at Luke’s interruption.

“Hey, man, don’t eat the messenger.” The man threw his hands up in mock surrender.

“What?” Seth crumpled the napkin he’d swiped from beneath the bottle of Synth he hadn’t touched and urged his third persona, the jaguar, not to come forth and attack his best friend.

“You meeting with Cap tonight?”

Seth grunted and kept his gaze on Paxton as she stretched her arms above her head. The act elongated her torso and pushed her breasts against the fabric of the silky button-down shirt she wore.

“I thought so, but he hasn’t called yet,” Seth had known the captain wanted to see him. The owner of Leid’s Consulting had told Seth he’d been requested. That’s why he was here waiting for the captain’s call instead of back at home enjoying the ballgame in peace and quiet. Why go home when he was just going to get called in to work again?

What-the-hell-ever. He was here because he’d known Paxton would be here after a long day on the job.

“Yeah. He did. Said he couldn’t get a hold of you for some reason.” Luke’s tone was dry as he turned toward Paxton. “Can’t imagine what might be causing your brain to tune out.”

“Me neither.” Seth shook his head to clear it and forced himself to look away from the woman who’d made him miss a call. Not only had he not heard his phone, but he’d tuned out his telepathy as well. Damn psychic ability shorted out whenever Paxton was around. She made him useless.

“I tried to call your cell too. No answer. You’re so preoccupied your superior hearing isn’t even working?” Luke quirked an eyebrow and Seth could tell he was trying not to laugh. “We need you.”

Seth glanced at the phone on his hip and saw that he had in fact missed two calls, then slid his gaze to the reason he’d missed them. Paxton laughed again, sending every ounce of blood in Seth’s body to his groin.

“What’s the case?” His boss at Leid’s hadn’t specified what Captain Quinn wanted him for. Could be for any number of things. A serial rapist, an arsonist, a drug ring? He’d even taken part in a sting operation involving the trafficking of young girls.

Seth took a long drag of the Synth and grimaced at its coolness. He much preferred it warm. Or at the very least, room temperature. Too bad manufacturers hadn’t figured out a way to keep it fresh without refrigeration. Maybe he’d go out later for the real thing.

He eyed Paxton and there went his desire for the real thing. No other woman would be able to slake his hunger.

Luke slapped Seth on the shoulder. “The Panty Bandit, my friend.”

Seth choked on the Synth he’d yet to fully swallow, spraying the table with synthetic blood. Christ, he’d been thinking arsonist and they wanted him to find some dickweed with a panty fetish? “Are you kidding me?”

It’s finally here! Hope you enjoy reading it. Let me know

Blurb:

Is it love? Or sabotage?

After a year of being ignored as a woman by her boss, Morgan steps up her game—and strips down. What better way than a miniskirt to capture her hardheaded boss’s attention? The butt floss she can do without, but hey, if the ploy works…and it does, with spectacular results. Now if only she can keep him interested permanently.

Ridge can’t believe it when the woman he’s quietly lusted after for a year shows up dressed…or rather, undressed…to drop any man to his knees. Instead of worrying about winning a bid after losing the last two under strange circumstances, he whisks her to his place to demolish any notion she might have of changing her mind.

Then it becomes clear why his company is losing bids—there’s a mole planted in their midst. Ridge suddenly has to question Morgan’s sudden transformation from faithful P.A. to office vixen.

Is she the woman he’s been waiting for? Or a corporate saboteur sent to take him down?

Warning: Contains several graphic love scenes. You know, on the bed, on the couch…whichever is closest at the time.

Excerpt:

“How sweet. Little Morgan thinks she has a chance in hell of getting Ridge’s attention. You know those clothes won’t make a damn bit of difference, don’t you?”
Morgan Crenshaw clenched her jaw. It was all she could do not to slap the smug look off Amy Lee’s face.

“He doesn’t go for ho,” Amy Lee continued.

Oh, that was rich coming from someone who wasn’t dressed much different. Amy Lee had gone too far. Yes, the skirt was mini and the top, well, she’d call it formfitting, but she did not look like a ho. Did she?

Amy Lee gave a contemptuous sniff as if she were better than everyone and flipped her long hair off her shoulder with the backs of her fingers. Morgan started to rise only to stop dead when her boss’s business partner, Carter, crossed between her desk and Amy Lee, saving the other woman from Morgan’s desire to strangle her.

“Sweet, Morg.” Carter paused at her desk and took in her outfit. “Like the new duds. You get hit by the make-over fairy last night?”

“Something like that,” she muttered and slumped back in her chair. Amy Lee’s snort nearly had her getting back up.

“Bitch,” she said to Amy Lee’s retreating back.

A few seconds later the outer office was empty. The prissy woman who thought she was God’s gift to men had finally gone back to her own workstation and Carter—one of the owners of the architectural firm, Malone and Casey, where she worked as the other owner’s PA—had sequestered himself in his office.

She had to get to the task at hand and not let Amy Lee get the better of her. Today was announcement day for a bid they’d put in for the design of the Honor Center and there was plenty to do for when they won it. She was sure they would. Losing those last two bids had to have been a fluke, even in this uber-competitive business.

Morgan took a moment to collect herself, sucked in a deep breath and tried to clear away the ugliness that was Amy Lee. As if she wasn’t already self-conscious enough about the outfit. Her sweaty palms itched. She wiped them on the short, short skirt she wouldn’t normally be caught dead in. Jeans and a T-shirt were more her style, but since her tomboyish clothes hadn’t caught the attention of a certain hardheaded man, she’d had to branch out.

She wiggled in her seat, shut her eyes and inhaled again. How the hell did women wear this kind of underwear? She smiled. Maybe this was why Amy Lee always looked like she had a stick up her ass. Only it wasn’t a stick, it was a string one had to dig for in the crack of one’s ass to get out. She must wear this kind of underwear all the time. In the hour since Morgan had arrived, she’d spent more time trying to pick the floss from between her cheeks than actually working. But hey, if Ridge Casey liked the black lacy string, who was she to care, right? Certainly enough women had paraded through the office dressed as she was now, so this had to be where his tastes ran. Morgan wasn’t naïve. She knew where those skanky women ended up.

And there it was. She had turned into a skank. No better than the women who oohed and aahed and fawned over her boss like they had nothing better to do than drool over the most beautiful man in the world.

God, she was such a loser. Deflated, Morgan sank back into her chair. Her face flamed with both embarrassment for having lowered herself this far and anger for not having the nerve to flat-out go for the man of her dreams in her normal modus operandi. Maybe she should just go home and change before he saw her. If he didn’t think she was good enough for him as is, she should move on.

“Morning, Morgan.”

“Morning,” she grunted, then shot up in her seat, her once heated cheeks draining of blood, leaving her lightheaded. Lord, she hadn’t even seen him come in.

Ridge came to a dead stop at the door to his office, those fantastic navy blue eyes facing away from her, his hand resting on the knob.

Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around.

He cleared his throat. “Morgan?” His voice cracked despite how he’d tried to avoid it, but he didn’t turn.

His broad shoulders were rigid beneath the starched white shirt that tapered down to lean hips. His ass clenched under his slacks. Morgan did a double take. His ass clenched? Had to be her imagination. She openly gawked—he was facing away from her, after all. There! He did it again. This time she didn’t miss the action. No doubt his jaw was making the same movement. The man had a tic in his jaw whenever he was angry.

“Morgan,” he said with more force, snapping her out of her perusal of his very fine backside.

“Yes, sir?”

His shoulders relaxed, as did his butt. Damn. He nodded once. “Just making sure it was you.” Why did he sound so strangled?

Court Appointed

Blurb:
Jackson knows he needs protection from a stalker, but the last thing he wants is to want his bodyguard.

A Serving Love story.

After receiving several suspicious “gifts”, His Honor Jackson Benedict is assigned an agent for protection. He’d be fine with a bodyguard…if he was anyone but the man who enters his courtroom looking hotter than any man has a right to look. Thank God Jackson’s robe hides his interest.

Trey London is more than happy that Jackson has practically been handed to him on a silver platter. If his job requires he stay close to one of the country’s youngest federal judges, it’s no skin off his back. The closer the better, actually.

But someone else is getting closer, too, and when the gifts turn into attacks, Trey is forced to trade his status of new lover for that of protector. He’s not about to let anyone come between him and his judge.

Warning, this title contains the following: explicit, nekkid, sometimes robed, m/m judge on bodyguard sex, and graphic language.

I hope you enjoy Court Appointed. Let me know!
annmarmck@yahoo.com

Annmarie

Blurb:

Christina Marshall has no desire to have a man in her life. TJ McFee and Jonathan Winslow are on a mission to change her mind.

As the daughter of an abusive drunk, Christina could care less about the lack of men in her life. So why is she having seriously erotic dreams about two of her bosses?

Jon and TJ are men who go after what they want and right now their focus is on a certain blonde-haired, brown-eyed nymph who’s done her best to blow off anyone of the XY persuasion. She’s a challenge. Never let it be said that either one of them ignore a challenge.

Their seduction is set off course when Christina’s mother dies and her father reinstates himself in her life. When accusations of murder fly, Chris must find a way to learn to trust both Jon and TJ. Her very life may depend on it.

Warning, this title contains the following: Blindfolds and bondage and sex—oh my. Ooh, and let’s not forget about the m/f/m ménage and the graphic language.

Excerpt:

Jon swiped his thumb across one of her pink cheeks, counting it as a victory when she didn’t flinch or pull away. He couldn’t wait to see them flushed with the pleasure he and TJ would grace upon her. Would she scream out one or both of their names? Was she the silent type, a moaner? Based on the rapid pulse at her throat, he could tell she wasn’t as unaffected by him as she would like to think she was.

“The difference between your father and TJ and I is that we won’t drink, ever.” He enunciated very clearly, giving her no room to misinterpret. “If there’s ever a time you don’t feel comfortable, you just have to tell us.”

She snorted. “I’m not comfortable. Back off.” She raised her hands and pushed at his chest in an attempt to create space between them. He gave her a modicum and laughed. They’d never get anywhere if they let her have her way every time.

The shrill ring of a cell phone interrupted them. Chris never took her gaze off him. The phone rang again and she lifted her glass and sipped. TJ moved closer. “You gonna answer that?”

Chris did a double take. “What?”

“Your pocket is ringing, sugar,” Jon offered.

“Huh? Oh. Oh, crap.” She fumbled in the pocket of her skirt for the slim pink flip phone he knew she carried.

He just smiled. She was fucking gorgeous when riled, which was most of the time around them. They seemed to bring it out of her in spades. There was the flush, this time from frustration. Soon it would be courtesy of an explosive orgasm given by him or Teej.

“Hello?” She stuck a finger in her ear to drown out the noise. “Carter? Is that you?”

Carter. Chris’s younger brother, who, from Jon’s background search into the Marshall family, seemed to follow in Daddy’s footsteps. At least in the mean department. Christina had done the smart thing, getting away from her family.

“No, I do not have any money.”

TJ stood, exchanging a knowing look over her head with Jon. They both disliked the tone they heard in her voice.

“Well, geez, I don’t know, Carter. Get a job like everyone else in the world maybe?” She paused and her eyes widened. “I will never fund your disgusting habit. I work too hard for the money I earn to waste it on you.”

Shit. If the kid had a habit and needed money for a fix, things could get ugly fast. Faster if he owed money he didn’t have.
A second later her eyes narrowed into slits. “You leave Mother out of this.” She paused. “I already regret it.” She slammed the flip closed and growled.

“Carter’s bothering you again?” Aislinn asked across the table.

“Again?” TJ and Jon barked together. Jon saw red. If the little punk had taken to messing with Chris, Jon would put an end to it really quickly.

“He says he needs money to pay his rent.”

“And you know he’s lying, right?” Aislinn came around the table, nudging Jon out of the way with a sharp elbow to his stomach. He stepped back with an oomph while TJ and Kyle snickered. He flipped them both off.

“After last month? Yes, I know.”

“What the hell happened last month?” TJ snarled. Jon wanted to know the exact same thing and more. Like how they’d missed her brother’s problems when running a background check on her, something they did with everyone who worked for their company. Chris’s had been a little more involved since both of them knew she would inevitably end up in their bed. With their past in the Teams, it was both a habit and a necessity. He, Teej and Kyle had pissed off more than one baddy out there who would stop at nothing to seek revenge. A loved one would be an easy target.

Before Chris could answer, Aislinn said, “Carter drove all the way from Chicago and showed up at her door begging for money for some overdue bill he had. When she offered to take him to the phone company to pay it for him, he flipped out saying he could handle it on his own. Then he tore through her house, grabbed her wallet and stole all the cash she had in there.”

“Motherfucker.” Jon wanted to put his fist through a wall. Or better yet, Carter’s face. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell us?”

Chris drew back, one eyebrow raised high. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Why would I?”

Damn. Why would she? They didn’t exactly have a relationship.

Yet.

Starting right now, they did and he’d be goddamned if he let her junkie of a brother run roughshod over her again.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe so we could help?”

“I think I can handle my own brother.”

Jon snorted. “You handled him so well he ran you over to steal your money. How much did he get?”

“I don’t see how it’s any of your—”

“How much?”

“A hundred and twenty bucks.”

Feeling the muscle ticking along his jaw, he nodded once. “Do you think you’ve heard the last of him tonight?”

“I don’t know. What does it matter?”

“You matter,” Jon growled and leaned closer so she had no choice but to look him in the eye. “TJ and I are done waiting for you.” He saw the flash of heat flare in her eyes. Hell, he could smell the moisture pooling between her legs. She could deny it all she wanted, but her body craved what he and Teej could offer. “We’re not like your father or your brother and the only way you’ll see that is to let us close. Probably won’t be easy for you, but I can damn well guarantee it’ll be worth it.”

Her eyes widened, her nostrils flared with each inhalation, and the pulse at the base of her throat sped up. He wanted to lean in and lick it, to taste her and leave his mark. Not here though. He straightened. If his dick got any harder, he’d be popping out of his jeans. Wouldn’t that be something?

“I don’t”—she had to clear her throat—“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sex, Chris. Remember the conversation we were having earlier?” Aislinn butt in.

“Aislinn.” Chris’s hissed reprimand made Jon laugh out loud. Oh God the woman was priceless. He’d wondered what they’d been talking about when she’d yelled out across the bar.

“What?” Aislinn said innocently. “I’m just getting you back for a little incident that happened at work a couple of months ago. Remember there was something about a feather duster?”

“That was your fault. You’re the one who asked Kyle if he had a duster but didn’t expound on what kind, or that we’d been imagining them wearing dusters, cowboy hats and nothing el— Oh my God.” Chris’s eyes closed. “Please tell me I didn’t just say that out loud.”

Welcome to Fantasm Island! Leave your inhibitions at the door and let your fantasies soar.

A Midsummer Night’s Steam story.

That’s what the brochure said anyway. A week long fling with a stranger. Where’s the harm in that? Take a compatibility quiz and a slew of other health tests, sign a strict privacy agreement and give license to any sexual fantasy you’ve ever had. Evan Knight couldn’t wait.

Gabe and Lance have been searching for their perfect third for what seems like forever. One look at the woman he and his best friend and lover Lance have chosen to claim during her time on the island, and Gabe thinks they may have finally found her.

But what if Evan isn’t interested in more than the fling she signed up for? Or worse, what if she can’t handle two men who are into each other too? Gabe and Lance have one week to convince Evan that the three of them belong together…and they’ll use every bit of seduction in their arsenal to make sure when the fantasy ends, their reality together will only just be beginning.

Warning, this title contains the following: explicit fantasmagorical sex, graphic language, ménage a trois, and hot nekkid man-love.

Even with her shaky past, Aislinn can’t help but to secretly want Kyle. When she witnesses his death in a vision, how can she tell him without giving away her secret or her lust?

Aislinn Campbell is a clairvoyant, the latest in a long line of first-born daughters to the previous first-born daughter. All of them have fiery red hair and a second sight. Hiding from her ex in the presence of a sexy ex-military millionaire seems the safest way to start over. Until she “sees” his death.

Kyle Turner III has been keeping a close eye on Aislinn. There’s nothing he doesn’t know about his personal assistant, including her secret and ugly past. He also wants her in his bed more than his next breath. When he receives an anonymous warning that something might happen at his annual Fourth of July bash, he doesn’t take it lightly. He knows exactly who sent the warning and he knows she’s being watched by her bastard of an ex.

After he’s injured in an accident, Kyle isn’t about to leave Aislinn unprotected for a second. He coaxes her into more than just tending to his wounds. Because making Aislinn believe in him and her together far outweighs anything her ex can dish out.

Warning, this title contains the following: explicit sex, violence and graphic language.

A few years ago when I first started writing, I knew exactly what I wanted to write. Romantic suspense. What else is there? Aside from medieval, I’m not a huge history fan, nor do I have the time, inclination, or patience for the hours and hours of research I know historical authors go through to write their books. Historicals were out. I had no interest whatsoever in futuristic/sci-fi. Hadn’t read any, didn’t want to. Futuristics were out. I did read paranormals that consisted primarily of psychics. If my writing was ever going to go in any other direction, that’s where it would go. So contemporary romantic suspense was it. And then I read something called erotic.

Okay, I admit it. My first attempt at writing the genre I loved, sucked. Big time. It had very little sex and probably wasn’t even all that suspenseful, but darn it, that’s what I wanted to write. The erotic world opened my mind in a big way. After I read the first one, I read another and another and…well you get the picture. Suddenly I had a menage a trois in my hands and red cheeks. Where the heck had that come from? I couldn’t even tell my own mother! My sister read it and asked, “is this even legal?” My sister is now my biggest fan. vbg

Soon after Blackmailed, I found myself wanting to do this story about a set of twin werewolves and their mates. That idea evolved into two stories. Paranormal, shape-shifting, erotic, romantic suspense. Hmm. What the heck happened to my plain old vanilla romantic suspense? The genre I had once told myself I’d never write anything but?

As we speak, I have seven projects on my plate. A paranormal, a menage, a plain old contemporary, a menage with m/m elements (yikes), a dragon shifter, a strictly m/m, and a futuristic, space opera, menage series that I’m working on with a partner. Yes, I said futuristic. A genre I said I would never have any interest in. I even have this very stubborn group of vampires in my brain that won’t go away. Who knows when I’ll get the chance to make them come to life. Even so, everything in that list has suspense in it. I don’t think that aspect will ever go away, just as I don’t think I’m cut out to write sweet. Anyway, I found now that I’ve written all the sex, it’s hard not to write it. I shall just be red-cheeked for the rest of my life I guess.

What is your favorite genre? Do you read everything your favorite author puts out even if it might not be something you normally read? Do you want to choke them for deviating off their norm? My favorite author writes in two different time periods. Contemporary and historical. Her historicals are from the medieval, regency and 1800’s (see, I don’t even know what to call these, LOL). I love, love, love her contemporaries and medievals, have read and like her regencies and haven’t touched the 1800’s series. All right, I did touch them. I tried, I really did, but just couldn’t get into them. Didn’t make me not read the next book she put out though.

Let me know. I’d love to see what other reader’s thoughts are on reading across the genres.