Get ready for 22 doses of hot, heart-pumping romance from the darkside with heroes and heroines to keep you turning the pages! Grab this 24-author set now for only 99 pennies! This is a limited edition, and the steal-of-a-price is for a limited time featuring stories from award winning, bestselling authors.
For your reading pleasure, we'll be featuring each author with a story of her choice for the next few weeks. Some will include interviews, and all will include excerpts. Today's featured author is Felicia Beasley.
Available early July, 2017!
I hobbled across the threshold, praising myself for not immediately falling over. I inspected the damage to my stomach as Chase looked around the small office. Blood oozed from the wound.
“You need stitches,” he said.
“I have a needle and thread in my desk. I’ll take care of it after you leave,” I said, hoping he’d get the hint.
“Let me.” He walked over to my desk, opened the drawer, and started rummaging around.
I stiffened. Stitching up my wound was far too intimate but I would continue to leak until I did something about it. “I’d prefer if you didn’t.”
“Your preference doesn’t matter to me. You have something I need. Until I get it, I’m not going to let you bleed to death.” He didn’t look up from his treasure hunt. “I’m not leaving, either.”
Arrogant jerk-off. “I bet you’re a hit with all the ladies.”
He lifted his gaze. “With the right ones.”
“Let me guess, I don’t fit the criteria.”
He pulled out my unused sewing kit and strutted over like he was a member of the Bee Gees.
“Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive,” I muttered. I would’ve added some cool dance moves but it would’ve hurt too much.
He stopped mid-stride and looked at me like I was nut-so. “Maybe it’s too late and there’s no hope for you.”
“You might be right. Could you be a dear and let me die in peace, then?”
He ignored me, again, and closed the distance between us. His brow furrowed as he studied the damage the naga had done.
“This would be easier without the shirt,” he said.
“I usually don’t get naked on the first date.”
He grunted, not amused. Apparently, having a sense of humor wasn't a requirement to graduate from demon hunting school.
I tried to pull the hem of my shirt over my head. It wasn’t like I was modest or anything. I stopped when the pain hit me like a locomotive going a hundred miles per hour right to my gut.
“Let me help,” he said impatiently.
I flinched as his warm fingers grazed my bare stomach. He pulled his hands away.
“Did I hurt you?”
I glared to cover up my embarrassment. “Why the hell do you care? Just do it.”
His jaw clenched and I prepared for him to rip the shirt over my head like an overeager lover just to spite me. Instead, he was slow, gentle, careful not to let the fabric further aggravate the wound.
I covered up the effect it had on me with derision. “Took you long enough. I’m guessing you’re a bore in bed.”
I watched him swallow as his gaze rested on my breasts.
I didn’t hide the smirk. “I didn’t know sentinels were celibate.”
His eyes shot to my face and his cheeks reddened. It was kind of adorable. “Pardon?”
“Once you’re done eye-fucking my tits, can we get this over with?”
Visit Felicia's Amazon Author page to grab your copy now. This title will only be available as a single through the beginning of July
He stared at me as if this was the first time he’d ever seen me.
For more from Felicia Beasley, visit her on the web:
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Felicia-Beasley/e/B01N24MG14/