Elle Thorne Interviews Kim Faulks, author of Savage - Included in new release boxed set, Alpha Shifter Seductions!
These hot Alphas will seduce you as you follow dragons, wolves, big cats, and other shifters behind closed doors and between the sheets toward that happily ever after every romantic at heart secretly craves.
Find out what pleasures these Alphas can offer when the temperatures shift! Only $0.99 and available NOW for download!
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Elle: Hi Kim,
thank you for agreeing to this interview. Tell us a little about yourself and
your background?
Kim: I'm a mother of two teenagers, a fat
cat, and a hyperactive dog, who lives in Queensland, Australia and writes dark
paranormal romance. I've had an extensive working history from the Police
Force, to Veterinary Nursing and recently quit my job as a Manager of a
Security Control Room after thirteen years.
Elle: What was the inspiration for your
contribution to Alpha Shifter Seductions?
Kim: My inspiration for the Alpha Shifter
Seductions was a prologue story for my up and coming new shifter series called
Underground Kings. I wanted to give readers an insight into the battle some of the
shifters have had to overcome to survive. It's a very dark and gritty story,
but one which needed to be told.
Elle: We all know that all scenes are
not created equal. Do any make you stomp your feet and wish you were doing
anything but?
Kim: If you had asked me that question a
month ago, I would've said the sex scenes. I'm usually heavy on the action and
suspense, but I'm learning to balance with a nice dose of heat between my
characters as well now.
Excerpt from Savage by Kim Faulks
The yellow hue filled the bare window, white smoke drifted from the chimney. The crackle of fire shot like a gun into the night. I breathed a sigh of relief and stumbled for the door, leaving Drake behind.
A struggle sounded behind me, but the fight was between Drake and his wolf as he shifted to human form. I pushed through the door. My gaze chased the flicker of orange flames from the fire and scanned the room.
“So, you’ve come back.”
I flinched at Coen’s hard tone and scanned the darkened room. Shadows clung to the corners, revealing the outline of his body. I kept his gaze and stepped inside. A shiver passed through me as he moved into the light.There was something strange about him. Those cold black eyes glinted with rage. I kept my voice steady,fighting the fear. “Yes,I came back.”
His gaze shifted to my arm. “And,wounded again, I see. “
Heat rushed to my face. “I never asked to be rescued. I’m not some weak, pathetic animal.”
He closed the distance between us before I could react. “But that’s just it, isn’t it? You are a weak, pathetic creature. You leave yourself weak by the very thing you run from, don’t you understand that by now? She’s close, you can feel her shifting under your skin. You can smell her, see though her eyes. She wants to be you, share you.”
I flinched. The spark in his eyes caught fire. “You see through her eyes, don’t you?”
I shook my head as Drake stepped inside the room. He glanced from Coen to me, his brow furrowed. “What’s going on?”
Coen’s hand was around my neck before I could move. His grip tightened as Drake moved close. “Stop right there. This has to be done, Drake. She’s fought too long, if she doesn’t change now, she could die, or….”
The color ran from Drake’s face, making him look jaundiced under the fire’s glow. Coen moved his face next to my ear. Hot breath tickled my neck. “There’s another way to force the change. You know what I mean, don’t you, Mia?”
I jerked my head forward, shifting underneath his grasp. “Stop, Coen. Don’t do this.”
“She was so close last night. I almost brought on the change myself. But, I can smell Drake all over you, in your hair. On your clothes. The wolf wants what the wolf wants.”
Something passed between Coen and Drake. His blue eyes drifted to mine, then back to Coen. “What are you doing, Coen? She’s not ready, you can’t force the shift if she isn’t ready.”
Coen shoved me forward, cloth tore, leaving me in my bra. “Do you have any idea what we’re up against here? Do you know who they are?”
I opened my mouth to argue, but the scent of Drake’s excitement hit me like a blow. Coen speared his hands through the cup of my bra, releasing my breasts from the confines of the cotton. My body hardened under his gaze, dragging something darker to the surface.
“This is what she needs, Drake. This is the only way she can change without killing herself.”
Coen wrenched my head to the side. His lips trailed down my neck as his fingers worked my nipples to a point, his words uttered against the warmth of my skin. “She needs to be broken, Drake. We can do that for her. We can help her.”
I didn’t hear his words, stolen by the hard pull on my breast. The pain mingled with something else, a darker longing that enticed to explore. The wolf wanted this. I leaned into his touch and shuddered. This was what I was afraid of.
His hand didn’t stop as my bra clasp sprang free. Drake took a step toward us, his outstretched hand mimicking those on my body, wanting to get skin to skin, and yet, he held back.
Coen took control, sliding his hand along my stomach and over the front of my jeans. My spine bowed, as he gripped the hard ridge of my mound. The crease of my jeans rode up, rubbing some part of me that sent fire along my skin.
“Coen,” I whispered.
But I was lost, falling under the magic of his hand as Drake closed the distance wedging me in tight between the pair. I was trapped. Succumb. The voice inside my head urged defeat. But the fighter in me kept me still.
Kim Faulks is an Aussie girl who loves
camping, fishing and writing dark, twisted stories that scare and excite! Find
more of Kim on her Webpage or Facebook Author Page
Kim Faulks is an Aussie girl who loves
camping, fishing and writing dark, twisted stories that scare and excite! Find
more of Kim on her Webpage or Facebook Author Page
Excerpt from Complication by Elle Thorne
Ky watched her chew on her bottom lip, turning it into a darker rose color. He’d never stopped thinking of her. He wanted her. His bear wanted her. And he wanted more than a single night from her. Surely she got that. How could she not sense it? How could she not feel the same way?
He had to ask. “Have you thought about me since that night?”
He’d kissed her that night, then he’d grabbed her hand and pulled her into a room at his friend’s clubhouse, a room that he knew would be completely empty. She’d gone with him, as eager, as hungry as he was. He’d closed the door behind them and secured it with a chair.
Catching her with a hand on each of her hips, he lowered his head, his lips swooping in for a kiss. He wasn’t waiting for more of an invitation. Her moan was invitation enough. Her arms snaked around his neck, her nails digging into hair that was buzzed short, ready to withstand the heat in the Middle East.
Her breathing was a series of small pants, drowning out the music and merriment in the other room. His tongue claimed hers, rolling into her mouth without subtlety, fully intent on its mission. He was met with a pleasant surprise when he found out she wasn’t one to yield. She pulled him closer, making his mouth crush hers. Something he didn’t recognize tinged her actions, but it fueled his hunger.
He trailed his tongue toward her earlobe, then down the delicate skin of her neck, finding the tender little hollow. His hand eased her top up, and she raised her hands over her head to allow the fabric passage.
“What are we doing?” Her voice was a sex-husky whisper.
“Whatever you want to do. Are we stopping?” He lapped the hollow, then raised his tongue up, up, up, to her chin, then down, lowering it until he’d reached the top of her bra.
“Not a chance.” She tugged on his shirt.
His shifter sight allowed him to see well in the darkness. He marveled at the creamy mounds that rose from the half-moon cups of her lacy red bra.
When his shirt was off, she trailed a finger down his chest, toward his navel and the downy path of hair that led into his waistband. Desire seized his breath, holding it captive in his lungs as her fingers traced the fabric just above his hips.
“Do you know what you’re doing to me, woman?”
He unzipped her pants, then reached a hand in, his palm over her sex. “I can feel your heat.” He slipped a finger between her folds, holding back from entering the velvet passage. “You’re wet. So ready for me.”
Her breath hitched. He teased her opening, flirting with the channel within, but not entering it, tracing her folds, flicking over her swollen clit.
She sagged against him, her legs parting, yielding more of herself to him, allowing more of her delicious scent to rise and fill his nostrils.
He pressed against her clit and allowed his finger to dip in once, only to the second knuckle.
She shuddered a sigh and her eyes rolled back in her head.
His cock hadn’t been dormant. Hell, no, not by a long shot. Now it twitched and throbbed, pushing against the fabric of his pants, straining for release. Yearning for her.
He let a second finger join the first and plunged it in deep, a growl rising in his chest and in his bear. Yanking her pants and panties down in one smooth move, he crushed her to him, then pushed her up on a table and spread her legs. He pushed his fingers inside her again and again, faster and faster, kissing her and holding her as she reached a screaming orgasm that was drowned out by the DJ’s selection playing at full volume in the other room.
She panted with desire as she reached for him. She pulled him close, releasing the button and zipper that held him prisoner and kept them apart. He gave a growl of anticipation as she wrapped cool fingers around his hot, thick erection. Her eyes held a wicked promise he wanted to hold her to. He anchored her to him and lifted her off the table. Taking her seat on the hard wood, he turned her around and settled her on the one place he needed her to be.
With a swift move and a deft twist, he was buried balls deep in her hot slickness. He reached around, one hand cupping her breast, and pinched her nipple while his other hand found her swollen clit and began a slow, torturous grind. Her thighs clasped him tightly while she rocked on him, luscious ass teasing him, back, forth, up and down. It seemed that part of the time she was in beat with whatever the DJ was playing and other moments she was creating a tempo that spoke to his bear in a primeval language.
She rolled her body on his, pitching forward then leaning backward, as if he were the wildest of rides. Her back arched, pressing her creamy breast deeper into his hand, begging for his fingers to knead the full flesh. The teasing friction as she rose and dropped onto his cock was sending him to a place where waves threatened to wash over him.
When she reached down, taking his balls in gentle fingers, rolling, cradling, a groan was ripped out of him. With one hand still roughly making deliciously tormenting circles on her clit, his other hand roamed down her body, over her waist and hips to the small of her back.
He dropped his fingers, making tiny circles near the rosebud in her dark crevice. He dropped them lower and lower until he’d captured her juices on his thumb, then pulled his hand back and teased that dark area while her pussy clenched around his cock, tighter and tighter. The closer he got to that rosebud, the tighter she held him in her sheath. When his thumb pressed into the little puckered hole just the tiniest bit, her grip on him became fierce, pulling at him, driving him nearer to the edge.
She gasped, then pushed back.
Ky pressed his thumb deeper into the darkness, sinking into the crease of her ass. Her rhythm picked up an even more frantic pace; she rocked on him, riding him hard, pushing him closer and closer to the fever.
She whimpered, a sound only his shifter hearing would have picked up. Each thrust he made, each time she lifted and dropped her body onto his, slamming into him, was punctuated by a grunt and the wicked slapping of flesh on flesh. He moved his thumb in and out gently with their rhythm.
She groaned, threw her head back and howled, her muscles clenching around him, tightening, milking, and drawing out his own climax. Grabbing her hips, he held her tightly against his body while his essence pulsed into her, filling her.
Reluctantly, Ky brought himself back to the present. He hadn’t had a night like that since. Nor had he found another woman like her. Laken had imprinted herself on his bear and his soul.
Jesus. He’d forgotten how hot that first time had been. They’d dressed, then danced the night away, then gone to his place for more. He’d never found out why she was going overseas, but he was glad about one thing.
“I’m happy you made it back in one piece.”
Her face fell. “Not exactly.” Her mouth clamped into a thin line.
“What?”
She shook her head and parted the seam in her lips just enough to let one word out. “Nothing.”
“Well?” He cocked his head, waiting for her answer. “Did you think of me at all? After that night, I mean.”
Her swallow wasn’t only audible, it was a lump he watched travel down the neck he’d kissed that night. Had she been thinking about the same things he’d been thinking? Did she remember that night as vividly as he did?
“Yes,” she admitted. “Now, how are we going to solve this? I can’t have this getting out.”
“I’ll take care of it.” He contemplated an idea. This is so fucked up. “Have dinner with me.”
Her black eyes widened, and her lips parted with surprise. “What? That’ll only make things worse. You can’t be seen with one of the judges.”
“Okay. After the case is over, then.”
****
Laken couldn’t breathe. What the hell was she supposed to say? Was he asking her to have dinner in exchange for his silence? Why would he?
She didn’t have to go, when all was said and done.
Her panther screeched a roar in her head, almost pushing her to cover her ears.
Dinner with this man was the last thing she needed to do. He was too sexy. Too much. A man like this would pull her away from her goals to work with the innocent victims of war.
She needed to run away as fast as she could. But running away was the one thing she didn’t want to do. She wanted to have dinner with him.
She wanted a repeat of that night.
Fat chance of that, with me, with him.
She fought a grimace as she said, “I’ll do it. Dinner.”
A smile curved his full lips, transforming his face from that of a no-nonsense soldier to that of a bedroom-eyed god.
“Mr. Romanoff.” What was she supposed to call him? That seemed too formal for someone who’d seen her naked once, long ago, when she was another woman—a very different woman.
I’ve seen so much. Been through so much.
“Malachi,” she corrected herself.
“Ky.” He smiled. “My friends and family call me Ky.”
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