Tag Your Writ Volume 2

TAG! TAG! YOU’ OU’RE WRIT Book 2

Shara Azod Laura Guevara and Dréa Riley Reana Malori Jeanie Johnson and Jayha Leigh

www.beautifultroublepublishing.com

TAG! You’re Writ, Book 2 “The Accidental Princess” by Shara Azod “Flippin’ the Script” by Laura Guevara and Dréa Riley “Need You Tonight” by Reana Malori “Spring Ache” by Jeanie Johnson and Jayha Leigh

In the story “Flippin’ the Script”, the characters Darryl Eason, Jr., Mariah Eason, Miles Eason, and Alexei Raijin Brijesh Shah, are copyrighted and used with permission of Shara Azod. References are made to Gavriil Vasily, who is named by Laura Guevara and Dréa Riley. In the story “Need You Tonight”, the character Branda Conti is copyrighted and used with permission of Laura Guevara and Dréa Riley. References are made to their characters: Phillippa Jones Madison, Gavriil Vasily, and Coco and Rex (German Shepherd dogs). References are also made to the following characters: Mariah Eason and Alexei Shah, which are copyrighted and used with permission of Shara Azod. In the story “Spring Ache”, the character Alexei Raijin Brijesh Shah is copyrighted and used with permission of Shara Azod; Gavriil Vasily is copyrighted and used with permission of Laura Guevara and Dréa Riley; and, the character Allison Davis is copyrighted and used with permission of Reana Malori. The Bible Scriptures quoted [Exodus 20:13, Psalms 23:4, Psalms 27:1-3, Isaiah 35:4, Isaiah 41:10, Isaiah 41:13] are from the NIV version of the Holy Bible. Copyright © 2009 by Shara Azod, Laura Guevara, Jeanie Johnson, Jayha Leigh, Reana Malori, and Dréa Riley All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be produced or shared in any form, including but not limited to: printing, photocopying, faxing, or electronic transmission, without prior written permission from the authors. Basically, that means no jacking our work, peeps. This book is a work of fiction. References may be made to locations and historical events; however, names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the authors’ imaginations and/or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), businesses, events or locales is either used fictitiously or coincidental. Published by Beautiful Trouble Publishing, LLC PO Box 61 Colfax, NC 27235 www.beautifultroublepublishing.com Cover Art: Les Byerley Editor: Stephanie Parent ISBN:

This little story is for Andrea. Do it your way chick, and I will be there to back you up no matter what. –Shara Azod We would like to thank our fans. Thank you for your endless support and feedback. We hope you enjoy this volume of the Tag series. Be on the lookout for more of our work, both together and individually. —Laura and Dréa To the ladies of the MFP Posse, thank you for believing in me. —Reana Malori To all those who’ve stood the test of time and worked our REAL jobs with us (and kept us sane at our other one)…we thank and love y’all! Peace out! —Jeanie and Jayha

Note about eBooks eBooks are NOT transferable. Re-selling, sharing or giving eBooks is a copyright infringement.

Caveat This work of erotica contains adult language and sexually explicit scenes, which are smoking hot. This book is intended only for adults, as it is defined by the laws of the country in which the purchase is made. Keep this book out of the hands of under-aged readers.

tag: (tāg) noun, verb —noun An informal game that involves one or more players pursuing or chasing other players in an effort to “tag” them with their hands or another object, thus making the player “tagged” the new pursuer. Also referred to as Tag, You’re It. —verb (used with object) To touch, as in the game of ‘Tag, You’re It.’ Tag! You’re Writ: noun, verb —noun An informal writing challenge that involves at least two authors. The first author writes a short story and “tags” the second author. The next author then writes a story “tagging” off of a character, theme or something else and incorporates it in a story that they pen. This writing challenge involves six authors. Author Shara Azod has the pen first and is “tagging” author team Laura Guevara and Dréa Riley. Laura and Dréa tag author Reana Malori. Reana tags author team Jeanie Johnson and Jayha Leigh. And thus, the game begins.

The Accidental Princess by Shara Azod

Chapter One Mariah had been skeptical on the flight over. Her brother Miles was a fuckup, pure and simple. He needed this deal to save their family’s tiny oil company. She’d only agreed to come finalize the deal he’d spent months working on because it would break her father’s heart to lose the company her grandfather had built with his blood, sweat and tears. Eason Oil was the one and only African-American owned oil company in Texas. Darryl Eason, Sr., Mariah’s grandfather, had fought to keep his tiny company in a time when he had few rights and even less protection. After the oil wells in Texas had dried up, her father Darryl Eason, Jr. had pioneered the art of importing oil from small countries that escaped the interest of the bigger companies. They had their own refinery, and until Miles had ascended to the executive suite, they’d made hefty profits. Miles had almost lost it all with his complete incompetence. As far as Mariah was concerned, Miles wasn’t fit to bear the name Eason. Her brother had long since burned his bridges with her by trying to pimp her out to a Middle Eastern sheik with a black woman fetish in order to hide the loss of contracts all over Africa and South America. The idiot had either insulted the local companies, or tried to skim money

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off the top by overpricing, or just plain forgotten to renew contracts. This had been his last chance to make a deal profitable enough to hide the colossal losses. She couldn’t believe he had pulled it off. She had to remind herself over and over again she’d agreed to come to Kovorkiistan, a country the size of New Jersey, not for Miles, but for her father. All she had to do was oversee the finalizing paperwork and cap it all off with some kind of traditional ceremony. As weird as it seemed to end a deal with an official ceremony, Mariah didn’t really care, as long as it saved the family company. Even the rather invasive medical checkup she’d undergone before being given a visa would be worth it if this deal went through as planned. She just guessed they didn’t want anyone bringing any nasty diseases into their country. Not that she was planning on getting busted while there. She was going to complete the transaction, then get the hell out of Dodge. She was dreading every second of it, but she was determined. Who knew what kind of backward country she was flying into? She had scoured the Internet, but all she could find was that the country contained a mixture of Far Eastern, Slavic, and Middle Eastern cultures. That wasn’t exactly telling her a lot. Apparently the nation had managed to keep its culture relatively closed to the world’s prying eyes even during

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the Soviet occupation. It was their luck oil hadn’t been found there until recently. She wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but the limo right on the runway as soon as the plane touched down was a nice touch, as was her escort. “Mariah Eason? I am Alexei Raijin Brijesh Shah, Crown Prince of Kovorkiistan.” He was something all right. The man was incredibly tall. She was five foot eleven inches, and he towered over her. He was neither lean nor a steroid junkie. His tailored suit showed off a body that was just right; a perfect cross between a swimmer’s physique and a wrestler. He had jet-black hair that curled a little past his collar and the most unusual eyes she had ever seen. They seemed to be a mixture of emerald, sapphire and stormy gray. And man, oh man was that deep accent sexy as hell. “Uh, yeah, I mean hi. I’m Mariah.” She thrust out her hand, belatedly remembering to offer a handshake. Wow, they certainly knew how to grow them in Kovorkiistan. “Pleased to meet you, uh, Prince Shah, was it?” Thick, sensual lips curved into a somewhat sardonic smile. Had she insulted him or something? She didn’t think there was anything mocking in what she’d said. Instead of shaking her hand, he turned it over and bowed down, skimming his lips over her

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knuckles. It wasn’t much of a kiss, really; more like the briefest touch or caress with his mouth. But her body didn’t seem to note the difference. Her pussy flooded at the contact, her breath coming hard and fast. He didn’t let go of her hand either, but led her to their waiting ride, holding onto her like they were on a date or something. What the hell was wrong with her? He wasn’t coming on to her or anything, but one little peck on the hand and her body was headed off to the races. Weird. Mariah wasn’t the type of woman to swoon over any man. Because her family had money, she’d had to be wary of most guys. She was a walking target to many of every race, type or creed. She’d learned her lesson well when she was much younger. Even those men who ran in the same social circles were all looking for something. She was no one’s stepping stone to something better. She just didn’t attract guys much. It might have been because she was so serious most of the time, or because she was somewhat naturally standoffish. It might have been because she was tall and more than a little curvaceous. She was the friend, never the lover. She could have more fun with her trusty dildo Steve than with all of her dates combined. She had been in the prince’s company for less than five minutes, and she could already tell Steve was going to get one hell of

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a workout tonight. The man even moved like sex on a stick, and all he was doing was walking. Get it together, chick, she mentally admonished herself. It was because he was some kind of mysterious prince that her heart was going all pitter-pat. The man was the stuff fairy tales were made out of. What little girl didn’t grow up dreaming of a happily ever after with a man who looked like this guy? He wasn’t touching her because he liked her or anything. He was merely being charming. “I must admit, I was a little, er, concerned when my father and your brother made this deal.” Oh, crap, what had Miles done now? She had better work fast to stem any damage her dumbass brother might have done. She didn’t even have to know what exactly the prince was concerned about— she knew from personal experience it could be a host of things. As always, she had to act as the cleanup woman before things got out of hand. “Whatever your concerns are, Prince Shah, let me assure you this is a great deal.” She entered the vehicle as soon as he opened the door for her, sliding her briefcase onto her lap as soon as she was seated. Thank goodness she was anal about paperwork. She had everything she needed in the slim case. “I’ve brought the contracts Miles had written up, and I assure you everything is in order. It’s a great deal. We

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couldn’t be happier with it. If you have some other concerns, please let me know, and I can call the lawyers over here in a heartbeat.” “You are happy with it? You are having no second thoughts?” He sounded surprised. Hell, he looked stunned. What the hell had Miles done? She’d gone over the documents with a fine-toothed comb. She not only boasted a business degree from Columbia, she was a bonafide Yale Law grad as well. The deal was beyond generous on both sides. Eason Oil had exclusive rights to all oil found in Kovorkiistan, and the people of the country would get fifty percent of the net profits. Nothing was ambiguous, nothing overlooked. It was a first for Miles, but she suspected the thoroughness of the contracts had more to do with the Kovorkiistanis than her brother. Had Miles promised something more? Why wouldn’t that have been in the papers their lawyers and the Kovorkiistani lawyers had hashed out? “Prince Shah, I couldn’t be more pleased with our deal, but if there’s anything you think needs to be renegotiated, please let me know.” She tried to open the briefcase to drag out the contracts in question, but his large hand settled over hers. “My name is Alexei.” Damn, that voice ought to be illegal. It had been sexy on the tarmac; in the close

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confines of the limo, it was downright sinful. The smooth baritone timbre seeped into her skin, stroking against her nipples, making them all puckered and tight. “My friends call me Sasha. You may call me whatever you wish, just please, not so formal. And I assure you, while I was skeptical of this agreement prior to you stepping off that plane, I couldn’t be more pleased than I am at this moment.” *** Alexei watched the play of emotions cross Mariah’s face. She was confused about something, but she was relieved also. He had to admit, he never would have thought any American woman would go for the archaic way his people sealed important business deals. He had been livid with his father for bringing it up to the brash, overconfident man who had come to their land seeking this deal. He had expected excuses, apologies, even anger. When his father had informed him his future bride was on the way, Alexei dreaded her arrival with every fiber of his being. What kind of modern woman agreed to marry a foreign man sight unseen? He had been terrified she would be hideous, crazy, or both. He was pleasantly surprised to find she was neither of those things. In fact, she was absolutely gorgeous. The conservative

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suit she wore didn’t disguise her generous curves; she was shaped as a woman should be. Her skin was dark and smooth, free of blemishes and glowing with health and vitality. According to the doctor’s report he had received, she was shockingly chaste for a woman who looked as she did. Alexei found he couldn’t wait to relieve her of that self-imposed chastity. He slid a bit closer than was necessary, breathing in her scent. Ah, but under that light floral perfume her natural smell was intoxicating. And she was aroused, which proved the truth of her earlier statement. She wasn’t against mating with him—she was as excited as he was. If they made it to the official ceremony before truly becoming mates, it would be a miracle. The one thing she didn’t know, what her brother didn’t know, was that the royal family of Kovorkiistan wasn’t exactly human. Well, they weren’t human at all. They were upir, a breed of vampire that functioned in the daylight hours. Contrary to many Russian myths, they didn’t eat people, nor were they vicious as a general rule. They could have children when properly mated, and only a true mate could be made into what they were. Alexei’s family didn’t exist on a diet of pure blood, but they had to be careful when revealing themselves to the world outside.

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What would his bride-to-be say when she found out? She didn’t appear to be the excitable type; she was here, after all, ready and willing to go through with a wedding negotiated by a brother who didn’t appear to be anywhere near her equal in intelligence. But then, his father had kept Miles Eason “spelled” for the entirety of his visit. Miles didn’t realize it, but he hadn’t really negotiated anything of his own free will. He had come to them planning on swindling their oil from them. Instead, he’d found himself on the way home with a fair, even generous contract after promising to give up a sister he considered a prude and no clear recollection of how it had happened. “Tell me, what did your brother tell you about the negotiations?” Alexei really wanted to know. How did Miles break it to her he had given away her hand in marriage without her knowledge? “He was kind of vague, to be honest,” Mariah admitted to him. “He simply told me I was to come and finalize the deal. He really didn’t get into particulars.” “And you agreed just like that?” A strange sense of forbidding began to creep up Alexei’s spine. Miles had told her of the wedding, hadn’t he? What if he hadn’t? Upirs were blessed with the ability to sniff out the true nature of a person—they instinctively knew

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when a human was a suitable mate, if they were compatible. Mariah Eason was more than merely compatible. Everything about her screamed she was perfect for him. This was a woman he could love for eternity. Already he was so hard he hurt from wanting her. His gums tingled with the need to sink his fangs into the soft sweetness of her neck. His mind burned with visions of undressing her at his leisure, like unwrapping a long-awaited present. Alexei had no idea how his father had known this woman would call to him the way she did. Fifteen minutes in her presence and he was hopelessly enthralled. Whatever his father had done, Alexei was glad he’d done it. He was more than pleased with his woman. But would she be pleased with him? Did she even know she was meant to be his bride? “Oh, no!” Mariah exclaimed with a little laugh. “I’m not here because Miles said so. I’m doing this for my father. Besides, it is a damn good deal.” Alexei relaxed, relieved that she had come with her eyes wide open. He took the liberty of removing her suitcase from her lap. He wanted nothing between them as they got to know one another. “Good, I am relieved.” He wasn’t too proud to admit it. He wanted her, but he wouldn’t trick her into mating him. “If you’re not too tired, please allow me to

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show you a little of our country.” After all, she would soon be a member of the ruling family. Mariah graced him with a blinding smile that went straight to his heart. “I would love that.”

Chapter Two Kovorkiistan was beautiful. There were majestic mountains and magnificent green valleys blanketed with jewel-colored flowers. The country even had beaches overlooking the Baltic, though it was far too cold to go out there in bathing suits. The entire afternoon seemed to have slipped right by her. Alexei had made the perfect host, answering all her questions, taking her to meet the locals who seemed to adore him and the rest of the ruling family. As a result, she was treated like royalty herself. A woman could get used to that kind of solicitousness. She was truly sad when the day was over. Alexei walked her to the door of her guest suite. She had to admit, staying in the opulent Far Easternstyle castle was far more appealing than staying in a hotel. She’d been surprised and more than a little thrilled when Alexei informed her they’d readied a suite, not a room but a flipping suite, all for her. “My suite is next door,” Alexei informed her, walking her inside the room. The room was absolutely stunning. Thick creamcolored carpeting covered the floor; there was a sitting room with a large-screen television, a little nook that held a desk and computer, large plush chairs and a comfortable-looking sofa all done in soft pastel colors.

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The room felt calm and welcoming. The suite also boasted a bedroom almost as large as a small apartment building. A huge four-poster bed sat on a raised platform, while a massive fireplace was stationed directly across from the bed. There was a private bath with a tub big enough for five of her with a separate shower. There was even a walk-in closet. She could live in this suite. “My room is directly through that door.” Alexei pointed to a door by the bed she hadn’t noticed before after showing her everything. “Please don’t hesitate to use it if you need…anything.” Mariah’s breath caught and held at the emphasis he placed on “anything.” She found she couldn’t move, his eyes holding hers completely captive. The gray seemed to dominate his irises, swirling with some emotion she couldn’t name. His head began a slow descent, never once blinking. He’s going to kiss me. Should I move away? Should I stop him? She didn’t want to. The closer those incredible lips got, the more she wanted it. By the time the first light brush of his lips landed on hers she was starving for it. Forgetting every lesson her mother ever gave her about not being too forward, she opened her mouth, her tongue seeking his with wanton wildness. There were so many reasons this was just wrong, but Mariah couldn’t be bothered with

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any of them. It suddenly became imperative that she kiss this man, that she feel his arms around her. Alexei must have felt the same way. With something akin to a growl, he pressed her closer to his hard frame, taking control over the kiss like a master. He didn’t kiss her back—he invaded her mouth. He dove in with authority, wrestling her tongue like a man who knew what he was doing. She melted against him when strong hands began to travel up and down her back. The kiss burned hotter and hotter until she was sure she would burn up. “I tried to wait, LyubImaya moyA, but I need you too badly.” His words rasped in her ear as he moved his mouth to nip her lower lip. Mariah knew he was moving them steadily toward the bed, but she couldn’t care less. Her inside had turned to mush, right along with all rational thinking. “Let me mate you. Say you’ll be mine. Give me your consent before I die of wanting.” Wow, that really should have sounded corny, but it only made her wetter, and she was already drenched. He acted like it was true; like she was so desirable, he needed her in the worst way. It was one hell of a turn-on. “Yes, oh Lord yes, please!” Mariah couldn’t really go any further than that. Talking took conscious

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thought, and she way too far gone for that. All she could do was feel. There were too many clothes in the way. Frantic hands tore at the obstacles between them. There were seconds when she couldn’t tell if it was her hands or his as they ripped away the fabric and threw it all over the floor. She loved the way his teeth scraped against her skin, sending sparks of erotic electric currents all through her. “Ti takAya krasIvaya.” She had no idea what the hell he’d just said, but damn, it sounded good. She nodded like the complete idiot she had become. Here she was nude, sprawled on a strange bed, in a strange castle, in a strange country, yet Mariah had never felt so right. The man wasn’t so strange at all. He looked like a mythical god in all his glory, his cock long, thick and so deliciously hard. His organ was angry purplish-red, spots of moisture appearing on the knobbed head. She licked her lips, hungry for dick in her mouth for the first time ever. His gaze raked over her body with such heat she could almost believe she was the most beautiful woman in the world. “I said ‘You are so beautiful,’” he clarified for her. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” Yeah, right. But oh, how she wanted to believe

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it. He said it as if he meant it. Perhaps he did in this moment. “Cup your breasts. Feed them to me.” Mariah didn’t question it. She cupped the heavy globes, offering them up to him. His mouth scorched the pebbled nipple as he sucked, even bit a little. A tiny prick from what had to be one hell of a sharp tooth pierced the sensitive flesh. Beyond the slight burn, the bite spread into sweltering erotic heat, making her buck against his larger frame. He made love to her breasts diligently, offering equal attention to each mound. The tingles inside her pussy became a throbbing ache, an ache that grew to something more. Lord, she was about to come just from him sucking on her breasts! She couldn’t believe such a thing was possible. Yet when he urged her to press them together and took both nipples into his mouth, she shuddered in an all too brief gentle explosion. “Did you like that, MIlaya moyA?” “Oh, hell yes. More. I need.” Hell, she was begging. Mariah Eason, the woman who had never had an orgasm with another person in the room, was begging for it. The prince must have some kind of weird sexual powers or something. “I will give you more,” he assured her, trailing his mouth down her torso. “So much more. I will give you everything. Tell me you’ll be mine.” “Yes, yes! I’ll be yours!”

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Alexei settled between her splayed thighs, lifting her legs up over his shoulders. His mouth played with the receptive parts of her inner thigh. He was trying to make her crazy, she knew he was. “Look at me, Mariah.” Damn, his eyes looked like they were glowing! The inner light of passion shined so brightly, she could have sworn they looked otherworldly. “Yes?” Was that her sounding all breathy and sexy? He had done this to her. Transformed her from a normal woman to a brazen sex goddess. “Say ‘Alexei, I am yours forever,’ and I will give you what you need.” “Alexei, I am yours forever.” Mariah had no clue what possessed her to say something so outrageous. But she did it anyway. She did it without stopping to think about what she was saying. As soon as the words left her mouth, she felt a sharp shooting pain in her inner thigh. The odd thing was, it made her come—hard. She shouted to the high heavens, her hips rising completely off the bed. Her brain didn’t have time to process what had just happened, though. As soon as she calmed down enough to ask, “What the hell…?” Alexei’s tongue was buried deep in her quim. The man could eat some pussy. He started by fucking her with his tongue, moving in and out of her

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cunt, curling his tongue upward with each “out” move to lap up her honey and tickle her clit. The incredible sensations had her grasping his hair and riding his face like a wild woman. It was just too good. She wanted to make it to go on forever, to draw it out as long as possible, but she couldn’t hold back. She came with a gut-wrenching cry, holding him as close as she possibly could. Bless him, Alexei didn’t remove his mouth until the last tremor faded and she lay boneless and complacent. She still throbbed with a need for something harder, deeper, but he certainly knew how to take the edge off. She watched through half closed eyelids as Alexei slowly climbed up her body. He looked fierce, like he was stalking his prey. Well, she was one doe that wasn’t running from the hungry lion. He was welcome to take as he pleased. “Let me taste you.” Mariah was shocked by her own request. Sucking dick was not an act she particularly enjoyed. Right now, though, she really, really wanted to take him in her mouth. She wanted to drive him just as crazy as he’d made her. “Later.” His answer was short, to the point. “We have eternity for that. I need you now.” ***

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Alexei felt like his cock was going to burst. His fangs were fully exposed; thank providence Mariah hadn’t noticed. Not even when he’d seized her lips, sharing the exquisite taste of her honey with her. Her tongue had actually wrapped around the elongated teeth, making his eyes roll in the back of his head. She was driving him mad. Without breaking the kiss, he grabbed her thighs and surged deep inside her. “Tee tak nuzsh-nA mne.”He had never needed anyone or anything more. The velvet walls of her pussy clenched down unmercifully on his throbbing shaft, stroking him as surely as he was stroking into her. It was heaven. She was heaven. She moved with him perfectly, their bodies straining to get closer in unison. “Take me, take all of me into you.” “Yes, Alexei. I want it all.” He would give that and anything else she could ever imagine wanting. There would be no going slowly, no tender embraces. His base nature demanded he take her and make her his. Instinct as old as time commanded that he mark her, give her the upir kiss, taking her as they came together. It would have to be soon. He wasn’t going to last long this first time. “I give you all that I am, all that I ever will be,” Alexei vowed, leveling himself up so he could watch her. Mariah in the throes of ecstasy was something to

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behold. This was the way he wanted to see her always, her face flushed with passion, her lush lips moaning his name. He had no idea how his father knew, but she was his heart’s mate. She matched him in every way. “Look at me, MIlaya moyA.” He needed her to see him as he truly was, fangs and all. Astonishingly, she didn’t scream or pull away. Lust-glazed eyes watched him steadily. He saw acceptance in her eyes. “I need to mate you, Mariah. I need to bite you. I need to take your blood.” *** This couldn’t be real. Surely she was still asleep on the plane. People didn’t have fangs. They didn’t ask a woman to mate and take her blood while on the verge of giving her the most mind-blowing orgasm of her life. And Mariah knew without a doubt the orgasm that was so very close was going to be mind-blowing. The excruciatingly acute sensations building in her core couldn’t lead to anything less. He filled her so damn completely, stretching her to the point of exquisite pain. Her body was in his total control, and he was controlling it with mastery. Since this was a dream, and he couldn’t possibly have fangs, Mariah did the only thing that made sense. She bared her neck. Those deadly looking fangs sank

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into her skin as easy as butter. Oh, it hurt, but it hurt so damn good that she detonated, utterly falling to pieces. Her hips bucked up, their pelvises mashed together as close as they could. In her mind, foreign words she couldn’t begin to comprehend sounded loudly as invisible silken threads intertwined the two of them together. “So fucking perfect,” she heard him mutter as his tongue slid over the wound on the side of her neck. The area throbbed, but she welcomed the pain. It was just a dream anyway. “Mariah, I need you again.” Of course he did. This had to be the best, weirdest dream she’d ever had. Real men, or vampires, or whatever didn’t have this kind of stamina. He rolled them both over so she was straddling him, his still hard cock lodged deep inside her. “Ride me, RAdost’ moyA. Take what is yours.” Oh, hell yes! She didn’t wait for a second invitation. She circled her hips, not moving up or down, just taking him in deeper without suffering a separation. She loved his tormented groan, the way his hips arched up to assist her. She could feel the broad organ pulsate against her inner walls. How glorious. “You’re killing me! Fuck me, woman, before I go mad.” She might like that, but she knew she would like feeling the sweet friction more. Bracing her hands on

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his wide chest, she moved up slowly, tightening her walls to torture him a little more, and then dropped. Alexei growled at her, grabbing onto her hips. “Stop playing with me, Mariah.” If that was supposed to be a warning, it had the opposite effect. “But I like playing with you, Alexei. It feels so gooood.” She swiveled her hips again, smiling down at him. “Doesn’t it feel good to you?” A sharp smack on her ass was his reply. The vibrating burn went straight to her cunt. A startled gasp morphed into a needy whimper as she spasmed all over his shaft. “Oh, so you like that, do you, kitten?” He smacked the other cheek, causing the same reaction. “Shit, I need more of this.” Before she could protest, Alexei pulled out, leaving her bereft. She didn’t have to worry for long, though. A moment later he was behind, pushing inside her. Yes, yes, yes, she felt fuller than before. Alexei took a hold of her hair and powered inside, smacking her ass cheeks with every thrust. Oh God, the bite of pain sent her soaring! She thrust back wildly, letting herself go. “Fuck me, Alexei. Oh yes, fuck me just like that. Harder!” He took instruction well, she realized, as he did just that. The pleasure and pain mixed together to

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create something so far beyond either sensation, Mariah felt herself overloading. He pulled her back toward him so that she was upright on her knees, but he didn’t break his stride. She opened her thighs wider to ensure she got every inch. It was so good, so damn good. “Come for me, MIlaya moyA,” Alexei demanded. “Let me see you come.” Once again he sank his fangs into her neck, into the exact same spot as before. Mariah screamed, her arms plying up and back around his neck to hold him closer as her body quaked from the inside out. It was too much. She went into sensory overload and promptly lost consciousness.

Chapter Three “Get up and get out! I can’t believe you, Alexei! You couldn’t wait one day?” Mariah didn’t want to open her eyes. She felt wonder in her warm cocoon of flesh. Strong arms encased her, keeping her safe. If she opened her eyes, she would have to admit to herself this wasn’t a dream. She’d have to admit he was a vampire and he’d bit her, and she’d liked it. It was a bit much to take in just now. “Shhh, Mama. You’re going to wake her up.” That was Alexei. She could feel the rumble of his deep voice on her back. She could no longer delude herself. She had walked into a nest, a coven, a whatever you call it of vampires. What was worse, she didn’t feel scared. Damn it, she should be screaming, pulling out her hair, trying to get away. Instead she was laying in a vampire’s arms, perfectly content. Had he brainwashed her? Maybe he’d glamoured her, or whatever it was vampires did. That had to be it. She was a rational person. She should be panicking. “You need to get up now, Alexei. You both need to get ready for the wedding.” “What wedding?!” She jackknifed into a sitting position at that one; the fear she hadn’t felt while sleeping with a vampire

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crashed into her all at once. Clutching the bed clothing to her chest, she stared in horror at the woman standing next to the bed. What the hell had Miles done? “Oh, dear. The marriage ceremony, yours and my son’s, is scheduled for today. The guests have already begun to arrive.” The older woman fluttered her hands and actually clutched her pearls. Mariah had heard jokes about women clutching pearls, but she had never once seen it. And what did she mean her son? There was no way this beautiful dark-haired woman was Alexei’s mother. She didn’t look a day over thirty. “Wait, I thought you knew.” Alexei rose slowly, his eyes never leaving her alarmed face. “You brother didn’t tell you?” “Didn’t tell me he sold me? Hell no, he didn’t tell me that! I would have cut his balls off!” No wonder Miles had acted all nervous when he’d insisted she come over to finalize this deal. The lowdown dirty snake! She was going to kill him. Right after she got the hell out of here, she was going to kill her brother. Her father was reasonably young. A doctor could harvest her mother’s eggs—they were still in there. They could hire someone to carry the baby. Mariah would raise the child herself. They didn’t need

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Miles; they could have another boy to carry on the family name. “Mother, would you please give me some time alone with my bride?” Alexei still watched her although he was speaking to his mother. Mariah heard the woman leave, but she couldn’t look away from the man— vampire—beside her. He looked hurt and more than a little guilty. Why was he looking guilty now? He should’ve had that look on his face when she’d stepped off the plane. “If I had known you didn’t know, I never would have mated you last night.” He was explaining as if she understood what the fuck he was talking about. She didn’t. “Do you remember when I asked if you were happy with the agreement and if you were having second thoughts?” She did, but no way was she admitting it. “I assumed you knew then. I am so sorry you didn’t. However, I’m not sorry we came together. I’m not sorry at all we’ve mated.” “We had sex,” Mariah clarified. “Now that the misunderstanding is all cleared up, we can sign the paperwork and I can go home.” He didn’t answer right away. That alone made her nervous. He reached out to smooth her hair out of her face. Lord, her do must look like a rat’s nest.

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Thank goodness she just got a touchup before coming over. “You can’t leave me, MIlaya moyA. We are mated. We cannot be separated.” No, she wasn’t hearing this. “What the heck do you mean I can’t leave? Of course I can leave. I mean, I really like you an’ all….” Well, she more than liked him. She felt a deep connection she didn’t understand, but that didn’t mean she was giving up her life and moving to some country whose name she couldn’t pronounce. “Despite being a vampire, you’re a standup guy. But I don’t know you. I can’t marry you.” He gave her a sad smile that really had her worried. “You already did.” *** Four hours later, Mariah was standing in front of some kind of magi person, Alexei at her side. It had taken him an hour to explain the way the mating thing worked. She had given her consent, and Alexei had bound them together for all time. Her body was already beginning to change, not exactly becoming a vampire, or upir, rather, but becoming an upir’s mate. He explained that an upir and his or her mate needed one another to survive once bound. If they were apart

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for long amounts of time, they weakened and could die. She hadn’t wanted to believe him. Not because she wanted to leave him. The binding thing must be a motherfucker, because the thought of going home and leaving him here physically hurt. She tried walking out of the room, and before she knew it she was running back into his arms. She was well and truly mated. All in all, Mariah couldn’t really say she was devastated. She wasn’t even mad, to tell the truth. She might be furious with Miles, and she would be paying the asshole a little visit, but she would do it with her new husband. The ceremony seemed to last forever. Halfway through, Mariah wanted to grab her man and make a beeline back to the bedroom. Alexei called it mating fever. They would want each other madly for the next hundred years or so. That just boggled her mind. Not only was she a vampire’s mate, but she had a very, very long life to look forward to. After the ceremony, they were expected to mingle. Alexei’s family was nice and all, but she really wasn’t in any kind of mood to socialize. First of all, she was mated and married to a mythological creature, her brother had sold her, and she was going to do him right here in front of everyone if he didn’t take her upstairs soon. She was dealing with a lot here.

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“Ah, Alexei. Your bride is the height of perfection.” The person who had stopped them this time had to be related to her new husband. He was simply gorgeous. In fact, all of Alexei’s damn relatives were downright stunning. It was a little disconcerting. “My love, this is my cousin Gavriil,” Alexei introduced them. “Gavriil, meet your new Crown Princess Mariah.” “I am charmed and completely disconsolate I didn’t meet you first.” Oh, he was a charmer, this one. Still, he couldn’t hold a candle to her man, good looks aside. “Are there more of you at home? If so, I simply must go there without delay.” “Why don’t you do that, Gavrill? My mate and I have, er, mingling to do.” Gavrill gave them a lecherously knowing grin, but Mariah couldn’t care less at this point. It was time to get to know her mate a hell of a lot better. ***SA***

TAG!!!!!!!!!!

Flippin’ the Script by Laura Guevara and Dréa Riley

Chapter One Phillippa Jones Madison was going to kill her drunken incompetent cousin. The moment Miles had called, she’d known something was terribly wrong. The fear and emotion in his voice had chilled her heart. And all he’d said was, “I need you.” So she had raced over to his house and when he’d outlined the situation, Phillippa’s blood ran cold, then fire hot. She’d never had much love for her cousin Miles, and today she only had one plan for him—an all-out southern beatdown. Miles was going to pay for what he had done to his own sister, her cousin Mariah! That he thought he was going to get away with it was beyond ludicrous, even for him. Phillippa had been trying to get a hold of her cousin since getting a frantic voicemail from Mariah saying she was on her way to Kovorkiistan to finish up some deal Miles had set up. Phillippa had assumed Mariah was going in to clear up some legalese and smooth some social feathers. But when Miles had called shortly after, saying what he’d done, that the deal had stipulated that Mariah become a bride for the crowned prince…well, Phillippa had seen red. A deal Mariah was going to settle without knowing the full details. Phillippa looked at Miles once again in disgust before storming out of the house. Oh, she was going to

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make him pay, but she needed him to be sober so that he could remember every single detail. Hell, she should kick his ass now and once again when he was sober so that maybe he could straighten out. If she didn’t love her Uncle Darryl as much as she did, she wouldn’t even bother with Miles, but she did love the man to death. He had raised her when her parents died and raised her as his own daughter. In fact, she and Mariah had been more like sisters than cousins. Blood was thicker than water, but no one could prevent the stupidity that sometimes contaminated the gene pool. On her way back to her house, Phillippa once again tried to get a hold of Mariah but kept getting her voicemail. “Mariah, it’s me. Listen, Meems. Whatever you do, DO NOT GET MARRIED. Uncle Darryl knows everything. I am on my way to get you and when we get back, your brother is getting a Texas-sized asskicking. Mariah, do you hear me? Do not get married.” Disconnecting in frustration, Phillippa raced home to pack a bag and make her way to Kovorkiistan, wherever the hell that was. She would need someone to watch her dogs Coco and Rex. Grabbing her cell phone again, Phillippa called her neighbor across the street, Branda Conti. Phillippa explained to her what happened as she quickly packed a small bag with the

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absolute essentials. Branda more than understood and, having dated Miles at one time, wanted to join in on the assbeating when they returned home. She promised to look after the two large German Shepherds for however long Phillippa needed her to. After promising to stay in close contact with Branda, Phillippa grabbed her phone charger and stuck it in the small black backpack and was out the door. Jumping on her crotch rocket, she put her helmet back on and raced to the airport, where a private jet Uncle Darryl had set up for her would take her a world away. She broke traffic laws as she whipped in and out of lanes on her purple ninja vtwin. She was sure she’d have several citations from traffic cameras in the mail when she got back home. And I’ll be taking the amount of those tickets out of Miles’ ass the minute I see his beady eyed rat finking face. Ripping past the private security gate, Phillippa raced up the tarmac and skidded to a stop. Putting down the kickstand, she hopped off the bike and raced up the steps of the large jet. Someone would take care of her bike—Uncle Darryl had promised. Phillippa wished she could take it with her, but he had adamantly refused. Once inside the jet, she pulled her helmet off and shook out her hair. Speaking briefly with the pilot, she settled in for takeoff, still fuming over Miles’ latest

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scam. She was so angry, the moment the pilot gave her leave to move around, she picked up the phone to called Miles. “Yeah, it figures I’d get your voicemail. You’d better hope your ass is in some remote fucking rehab by the time I get back, because when I see you I’m gonna make sure you shit out your nose for the rest of you life. OH and yeah, go ahead and call your loan shark and anyone else you owe money to. I will personally be delivering your body parts to them for payment. SELL MY FUCKING COUSIN. I can’t believe you...you know what...never mind. I am just saying that you better hope you get this message to Interpol before I get to you, because if you don’t they are gonna have a reason to put me UNDER a fucking prison.” By the time Phillippa landed in Kovorkiistan, she was fit to kill. Her flight had been delayed because of the weather and Mariah was still not answering her damn phone. At this point Phillippa wasn’t sure who she was angrier at—her stupid, idiotic cousin or Mariah for not answering her fucking phone. When her brain started conjuring up reasons why Mariah wasn’t answering her phone, she practically ran to the pickup area to hail a taxi. Finding a cab, she gave the man directions to the address she had been able to extract from Miles. Sitting back, she was glad the man spoke a little English and with the few Russian words

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she’d learned on the flight over, they had been on their way. If she hadn’t been so pissed, Phillippa would have been greatly impressed when the cab stopped in front of the castle. She double-checked the address Miles had given her. Her cousin had proved time and time again that he couldn’t be trusted, so she wondered if it was correct. It seemed they were having some sort of party, because there were cars and servants along the driveway. Damn it, she was going to kill Miles when she got back if he’d given her the wrong information. The staff gave her curious glances as she stepped out of the cab but were polite. They didn’t speak English, so she couldn’t ask them if she was at the right place or not. Maybe someone inside could help her. She was almost at the door when it opened, and out stepped a very tall, very handsome man, dressed in a black tuxedo. They both stopped in their tracks.

Chapter Two Gavriil couldn’t believe his eyes. He had just been teasing his cousin’s new bride about having any sisters that were just as lovely as her. Then here was this woman at his cousin’s doorstep. There was no mistake that this dark beauty in front of him was Mariah’s relation. Gavriil would not have to go anywhere to find his mate—she had made it easy for him by coming here, whatever her reasons. And she would be his mate. He could smell her arousal. Could feel her excitement. She would not be going back home without him. “Hello, Milaya moya. My name is Gavriil Vasily. How may I be of service?” “Finally, someone who speaks English. Listen, Gavriil, I need to find my cousin, Mariah.” “Ah, yes, my new cousin-in-law. I’m afraid you are late for the ceremony.” Gavriil could see how the words affected her. “She went through with it? She actually married him? I’m gonna kill the son of a bitch if he forced her in any way, shape or form,” she said as she pushed past him into the castle. Gavriil smiled. She was perfect. He followed her in. This was going to be an interesting night indeed.

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Phillippa was blinded with rage as she made her way past Gavriil. She had been in some kind of trance until he’d said that Mariah had married his cousin. Somebody was going to pay for this. Somebody was going to start answering some questions. Mariah wouldn’t just agree to marry a complete stranger. Especially if it was something Miles had set up. She didn’t even stop to take in the rich décor, but instead started looking for her cousin. There were still lots of people inside, making her feel a little underdressed. They were all dressed in fancy gowns and tuxedos, while she wore leather pants. But this was not a social visit. “Your cousin is not down here. When I left, they were making their way upstairs to continue with the honeymoon.” Phillippa turned to see Gavriil by her side. “What do you mean ‘continue with their honeymoon’? You know what, forget it—I’ll find them myself.” Phillippa walked towards the stairs and stomped her way up to the second floor. If she had to open every single door, she would. Phillippa was going to find her cousin, come hell or high water. Suddenly she was stopped by Gavriil once again at the top of the stairs. “I can’t allow that, Angel moy. Your cousin is safe and was not coerced.”

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Phillippa turned back to the large man. She wanted to believe him because that would mean Mariah was safe. And he was so sexy, she wanted him with a fierceness. She’d never felt this way before about anyone. He sensed it too. His eyes spoke volumes. Somewhere deep inside her, she heard a warning. MMM, girl, he is fine, but don’t get it twisted. Find Mariah and get the hell out of here. There is something so...fine...er…strange about this man. “Why don’t we go back downstairs, and I will explain everything to you.” Phillippa couldn’t refuse. She wanted to. Her inner voice, the one she thought she’d buried the first time Miles had tricked her into something when they were kids, was taunting her. Don’t do it, Flip—remember the time Miles tricked you into riding down that old water well? You were ass deep in bat shit for an hour before Uncle Darryl found you. Nuh Uhn. He may be fine, and have nice long hair and sexy dimples, but you can get a roughneck when you get back home to take care of that itch. This man is too pretty, and too pale. The sun is out and bright as hell here, and these people look like they frequent a morgue for milk baths. She needed explanations. Then she needed to find both her cousins. If Mariah was well and truly safe and happy, then she’d move on to Miles. As for

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Miles, she just hoped he was sober so she could administer an asskicking when she got home. She followed Gavriil back downstairs, and they made their way into the study. “Start talking.” Two hours later, Phillippa had a pounding headache. Gavriil was an upir, a freaking vampire! And so that meant that all of his family, and now Mariah, were upirs—or rather, in Mariah’s case, an upir’s mate. “Although I should also point out that the men on my side of the family have different vampiric characteristics then Alexei’s side of the family. When we mate, you will turn into a vampire. You will still be able to do everything you do now, like going out into the sun, but you will be a vampire. We will be able to communicate telepathically.” “You expect me to believe that you are a vampire?” “Yes. You know I am telling the truth.” “Prove it. Show me your fangs.” Gavriil smiled before obliging her. The transformation was so quick that Phillippa had to blink rapidly several times. Not trusting her own eyes, she couldn’t stop herself—she touched them. They felt so real. “And I will have fangs like these too?” she

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asked as she ran her fingers around his teeth from one sharp fang to the other, then repeated the process. He nodded his head. When his tongue flicked across her finger, she gave a little jump and looked deeply into his eyes. Phillippa was consumed with a sudden longing for him. One minute she was touching his fangs, the next she was plastered against him, their mouths fused together. The man devoured her mouth as his hands were busy getting acquainted with her body. Phillippa’s hands were busy too. The man was made out of marble. He was hard everywhere. Especially the bulge that was pressing against her belly. “Wait, wait, wait. We have to stop.” She panted while Gavriil nibbled enticingly at her neck. The motion was designed to seduce, and damn if it wasn’t working. With a final shove, she backed away from his searching mouth and ran her hands over her hair, nervously patting it into place. Straightening her skintight leather vest, then thrusting her hands into the back pockets of her fitted leather pants, she began to pace. Seemly unaware of the way the movement thrust her breasts up at an inviting angle, she wandered back and forth for a few heartbeats before stopping and turning to Gavriil. “So you say your family is a bunch of bloodsuckers and Mariah willingly married your

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cousin? If this is all true, why is Miles still alive? Or do you plan on draining his blood and leaving his body on a stake as a warning to other imbeciles?”

Chapter Three Gavriil was astonished by the hopeful look that crossed her face. He had the feeling that when he informed her of Miles’s willingness to commit to a rehab facility run by his family after he settled things back home, she’d not be satisfied. “No, we won’t drink Miles’ blood. In fact, we accepted this deal because Miles was basically offering Mariah up to the highest bidder. The connection between Alexei and Mariah was strong—the moment he saw the picture of Mariah, he knew she was his mate. The deal between our companies was no longer an issue. He had to rescue his mate. He had to bring Mariah here to do so. The only way was to let her think she’d be saving the deal and her family by coming. Once she was here, she felt the pull. The same as you do. You were meant to be my wife. Even now your pussy weeps for the pleasure only I can give it. We may not yet be mated, but we will before this night is over.” Gavriil was done talking. He had given her the explanations she was seeking. Now it was time for him to get intimately acquainted with his future mate. The tight leather pants seemed as if they were painted onto her body. She looked delicious, and Gavriil wanted to confirm his theory.

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“Take off the leather pants and shirt,” he ordered her. She wanted to fight him. He knew she was a fiery, independent woman who was used to giving orders, not receiving them. She would soon find herself obeying his commands if she wanted to come. From here on out, he would be responsible for her pleasure. Phillippa must have understood him, because she kicked her shoes off and began undoing the button of her pants and pulling them down her long legs. They were so tight she had to wiggle herself out of them. Gavriil was ready to explode. The little hellion probably did that on purpose. He would get even. Next she undid the buttons of her shirt in slow, deliberate movements. Gavriil caught the mischievous smile playing around her lips. Oh yes, the little minx was going to be hoarse from begging before he let her find release. Finally, she pulled the material off and tossed it away. She was left standing in a matching red bra and panty set. “Come here.” Once she was within arm’s range, Gavriil pulled her to him. In one quick movement, he ripped the delicate material of her panties away.

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Gavriil smiled wickedly down at her sharp intake of breath. Lifting her up by her waist with his left arm, he turned and deposited her on the desk behind him after clearing everything on it away with his right arm. “Gavriil,” she said breathlessly as her bottom touched the cold surface of the desk. Taking a firm thigh in each hand, he spread her legs apart, opening her to him. Kneeling down in front of her, Gavriil couldn’t resist taking a swipe at her nether lips. She was even more exquisite than he’d first thought. Needing more of her sweet nectar, Gavriil held her legs wide as he feasted on her pussy. Phillippa dropped back on her elbows as Gavriil attacked her pussy with his mouth. The man just growled as she lifted her hips against his tantalizing tongue. Whether he was slurping up her essence or using that strong tongue to fuck her, Gavriil left no inch of her mound untouched. She was getting closer and closer to an explosive climax. “Don’t come without my permission,” he lifted his head long enough to command. Was he serious? How the hell was she supposed to keep the orgasm that was fast approaching at bay? “Gavriil, don’t play with me,” she shouted down at his blond head.

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“But I’m not, Phillippa,” he once again lifted his head. “You purposely teased me earlier with your little strip show. Now its time to pay the price.” Phillippa couldn’t deny that she’d done it on purpose. She fell back on her arms with a groan as Gavriil’s head once again disappeared between her thighs. The damn bastard would bring her to the brink and then back off, kissing her thighs until she calmed down, and then he would start all over again. He upped the ante by slipping one thick finger inside her pussy. Phillippa almost came right then and there, but somehow she was able to stop herself from going over. The pleasure was too much. Phillippa couldn’t hold her composure as he continued his tortuous ministrations. “Gavriil,” she screamed at him again “you have to let me come.” He ignored her command. Instead he added a second finger. Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more of her punishment—and that is what it was, a punishment for teasing him—Gavriil granted her permission to come. “Come for me, Phillippa,” he said before sucking her clit deep into his mouth, his fingers pumping in and out of her slippery cunt. Phillippa exploded all around him. Her back arched off the desk as she screamed out his name.

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Phillippa was spent, but seeing Gavriil stand up in front of her body, she was suddenly ready for more. His erect cock was standing up at attention. Phillippa swallowed hard. He was enormous! “Don’t worry, Angel moy—you will be able to take all of me.” He proceeded to show her how perfect a fit they made. Gavriil brought her hips to the edge of the desk. “Look at me as I make you mine, Phillippa.” Propping herself back up on her elbows, Phillippa looked down as Gavriil brought his cock to her entrance. “Tell me that you want this, that you want me. You are mine. Tell me.” “Yes, I want you. I’m yours—now fuck me already!” “First, we mate. I need you to be mine forever. I need every one of our kin in the house to hear you screaming my name and for everyone to know that you are mine. Already there are rumblings from those who would rather have you to themselves.” Phillippa would normally have demanded more foreplay—she loved the buildup—but right now she was ready to shank him through the heart if he didn’t shut up and fuck her. She would have done just that when he started to laugh.

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“Your thoughts amuse me. I knew the moment I laid eyes on you that you were something amazing, unique, and now you become more so. You become my mate.” Gavriil growled the last bit; his fangs seemed to grow longer, and he impaled her on his thick cock. Her first orgasm didn’t wait. It roared through her like the wind whipping through the derricks of an offshore rig. When Phillippa tossed back her head, Gavriil leaned forward, his cock kissing her womb. He sank his teeth into the sensitive part of her neck where it flared to her shoulder. Orgasms two, three, and four washed over her as he drank from her. He spilled none. When number five danced down, her spine felt like fire, and her heart stopped. Well damn, what a fucking way to die. Her eyes closed, and she slipped slowly, blissfully into the darkness. Moments later a fiery current raced through her body. Phillippa’s eyes snapped open. She could feel a change in her body. A change so great it seemed as if her very molecular makeup was shifting, vibrating. She wondered if her brown eyes stayed the same or changed to the same murky amber color as Gavriil’s. “And now, my sweet spitfire, we love,” Gavriil said as he took her mouth and began to rock his lean hips in and out of her body.

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Phillippa raised her legs around his hips and linked her ankles. Locking her hands in his thick hair, she sucked deeply on his tongue and then pushed. She was slightly startled by her strength. Even if he had wanted her too, she should never have been able to push Gavrill over, but none the less she preened a little when they righted themselves. They landed hard on the floor, but she was on top of him, Gavriil baring the brunt of the impact. Looking down at Gavriil lying prone between her thighs, her eyes danced with desire. Phillippa licked her lips and wiggled a little, testing her seat. A wicked little grin played at the right corner of her mouth, and she closed her eyes before reaching up and pulling her hair back, quickly securing the long locks in a knot at the base of her neck. “You wanted to play, vampire. But I am telling you now, I have no intentions of spending eternity as anybody’s sub. One of us is going to be screaming tonight. And as good a game as you talk, big guy, it ain’t going to be me.” She brought her hands down over her lush breasts, cupping them and pulling at the tight nipples. The sensation caused her to clench her vaginal walls around Gavriil’s thick, pulsing cock, which in turn jerked against her “spot,” causing Phillippa’s head to drop back on her shoulders.

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She stayed that way for several moments, milking Gavriil’s dick and tweaking her own nipples. The slow burn of pleasure warmed her flesh to a delicious tingle. Phillippa felt herself on the verge of another orgasm. Holding herself extremely still, she leaned forward and began to softly flick at Gavriil’s flat nipples. She trailed her fingers over the planes of his muscled chest. When her fingertips came in contact with his rigid abs, she nearly came. Gavriil’s fangs lengthened, and he drew in a deep breath. Phillippa felt her own fangs lengthen. She was a bit pissed about the whole mating thing meaning she’d changed into one of the “undead.” Damn, man, just cuz you gave me five or six orgasms didn’t mean you could bite me. What if I didn’t want to be all pale and pasty like you? I should bite you back...big-dicked jackass. When Phillippa heard Gavriil laughing in her mind as opposed to out loud, she saw red. Leaning forward, she settled her forehead in the crook of his shoulder before turning into his neck, sinking her fangs into the thick muscle and drinking from him. His roar could surely be heard throughout the whole damn house. Phillippa was laughing when Gavriil flipped her on her back and surged into her, pounding roughly into her. Phillippa’s scream had people rushing inside

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the study. She thought she heard her cousin, but she couldn’t be sure. Gavriil had just hit her g-spot once again, and her eyes were rolling to the back of her head.

Epilogue One Month Later… “You cannot still be mad at me?” Gavriil asked as she walked away from him, settling down on her favorite armchair. “Motherfucker, you’re going to be begging for my forgiveness for the next century. Now get down on your knees. My feet have swollen up like the Goodyear Blimp.” Phillippa rubbed her soon to be bulging stomach. “I knew I should have forbidden the shopping trip with Mariah.” “I don’t know how long it’s going to take you to realize this, but you can’t forbid me nothing. Well, except the whole ‘you can’t fight or ride my motorcycle while you’re pregnant with my child’ thing. But only because I’m not stupid and would never do something to endanger my babies.” Which was why she was still pissed off at him. Gavriil had decided to wait until after they’d had sex all night long to tell her she would become pregnant with their first child when they mated the first time. Which led to him forbidding her to kick her cousin’s ass. Something she still wanted to do, even though his scheming had led to her current condition. She wasn’t upset about giving this beautiful man

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children. Well, she could have done with carrying them one at a time. And she definitely wanted to get a chance to kick Miles’ ass. “You are plotting again, Dorogaya moya. And I know you’ve learned how to block me from your thoughts, so you are trying to rile me up. But I have a surprise for you. Maybe it will curb your bloodlust before our babies are here.” Running his hands over her belly and gazing deeply into her eyes, Gavriil gave a sharp whistle. Two beautiful German Shepherds bounded into the room and danced anxiously around their mistress. Gavriil was humbled by the tears he saw dampening his wife’s eyes. “My babies! Oh, Mamma has missed you, oh oh oh….” Phillippa buried her fingers and face in the silky coats of Coco and Rex, eagerly soaking up their doggy kisses, something she didn’t normally tolerate. “How did you get them here?” Phillippa’s head snapped up when she heard the musical giggle tinkle through the air. Branda Coti was standing in the doorway, looking like she’d stepped off a fashion runway. “I brought them.” “Oh Branda,” Phillippa exclaimed as she got up and ran to her hug her friend. But was stopped short. “Oh no you don’t. I don’t hear from you in over a month and all you can say is ‘oh Branda’ I didn’t even get a phone call! So I am going to go check on

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Mariah and then I want a damn good excuse as to why you couldn’t let me know you two were okay.” Phillippa could only watch as Branda twirled on her heel and walked away, slamming the door behind her. Phillippa slowly turned to face Gavriil. He didn’t need to read her mind to see how mad she was. “This is somehow all my fault, isn’t it, Angel moy.” It wasn’t even a question. “Well who else had me impaled on their cock this whole damn time?” She was surprised at how fast he was at her side. “Mine is the only cock you will ever know from now on, Phillippa. You are mine.” Before she knew it, they were up against some wall as Gavriil tore off their clothes. “Wait, we have to let Coco and Rex out. I’m not putting on a show.” She didn’t have to worry because they were nowhere to be found as they separated. And before she could question it further, she was back in Gavriil’s arms and soon forgot why she was mad at him. Again. ***LG and DR***

TAG!!!!!!!!!!

Need You Tonight by Reana Malori

Chapter One “Damn, damn, and double damn.” Branda paced the floor of her living room while holding her cordless phone in one hand. She had tried to reach Phillippa several times over the past month, and she had nothing. Not a phone call, e-mail, text, or letter. Zip, nada, zilch. It was as if she’d fallen off the damn planet, and something just didn’t seem right to Branda. Phillippa never lost contact for this long, even when she was off doing God knows what on that damn motorcycle of hers. She walked over to the couch and plopped down. The phone, which was no longer her friend, she’d thrown across the room in frustration. Phillippa’s two German Shepherds, Coco and Rex, lifted their heads in what appeared to be bored curiosity before promptly turning away from her and falling asleep again. A nervous laugh escaped as she leaned her head against the back of the couch. Hell, those dogs had probably seen a lot more than she would ever see, and objects thrown across a room were no big deal to them. They were owned by one of the few women in the world who didn’t give a damn. “Well, I’m sure as hell not going to just sit here and do nothing. Okay, now I’m talking to myself. Now I know I’m losing my damn mind.” Branda stood

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up and walked into the kitchen, mumbling the whole time about crazy ass friends who went off to foreign countries and never returned. While she sat here worrying her ass off and hoping her friend was safe, she didn’t even have a way to call her to try and find out if things were okay. Phillippa’s cell phone must not be working, or else the battery had gone dead because she was locked in a dungeon and couldn’t charge it, or…”Okay, girl! Stop it!” Those types of thoughts would get her nowhere. She glanced at the clock, saw that it was almost ten o’clock in the morning and decided to call her friend Allison Davis. If anyone could help, it would be her. She had connections both in the States and in several foreign countries, and if anyone could find her friend, it would be Allison. She didn’t necessarily want to know about the methods she used to ferret out information, because some of the information bordered on the highly confidential. For some reason, Branda was sure she was better off sticking to the mantra of “don’t ask, don’t tell” when it came to Allison’s sources. She walked across the living room and picked the phone up from the floor, praying she hadn’t broken it when she’d flung it across the room. Quickly dialing Allison’s number, she hoped her girl was home

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and awake. When she answered the phone, Branda could not help but laugh at her crazy ass greeting. “Whoever the hell this is, you had better be lying in a ditch in the middle of the tundra dying because both of your legs were blown off by an explosion from an illegal landmine.” Laughing, Branda knew Allison wouldn’t stay mad at her for long. “Hey, lady, it’s me. I need your help.” The worry in her voice must have tipped Allison off that this call was not your run of the mill early morning chat. Her friend’s voice quickly changed from annoyed to concerned. “What’s up? Who do I need to fuck up? Better yet, where’s the body? I can be there in fifteen minutes with all the tools and chemicals we need to make sure no one finds any evidence.” This chick could always make her smile. “No, it’s not that, but I’m worried about my friend Phillippa, and I need your help to find her.” Sitting down on the couch, she curled her feet up under her and proceeded to tell Allison everything she knew about Phillippa, her cousin Mariah, and their ill-fated trip to Kovorkiistan. Coco and Rex must have felt her worry because they both slowly walked over to her and placed their heads in her lap, their eyes filled with doggy concern. They were such good dogs, and she

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knew how much Phillippa loved them. Some serious shit must be going down for her to leave them behind. Allison’s voice drew her back to the conversation at hand. “Okay, let me see what I can find out. Kovorkiistan is a very small country, and it does not come up on my list of places where I have…connections…so it may take me a couple of hours to find out anything.” “Thanks, Allison.” “Don’t worry. I’ll find out all I can and will give you a call later this morning.” “Okay. I’ll be here. Call me back as soon as you know something.” “I will. Bye.” She hung up the phone and went to make a cup of coffee. She had been so worried about her friend that her morning cup o’ joe had been neglected. That wasn’t like her at all. Some things were sacred, her coffee being one of them. As a matter of fact, she hadn’t eaten breakfast either. Time to rectify that right now. She was just about to pull out some Italian sausage and eggs when the phone rang again. She figured it was Allison calling back with more questions, which shocked her a bit because there was no way she could have found anything that quickly. Her girl wasn’t that good. Was she? Well, just in case

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she was…Branda dropped the food back inside the refrigerator and ran to the phone. “Damn you’re quick, Allison. So, what did you find out? Come on, don’t keep me waiting!” “Um, hello? Is this Branda Conti? Friend of Phillippa Jones Madison?” What the hell? Who the fuck was this, and why the hell did his voice make her want to climb through the phone and jump his bones? Wait, he was calling about Phillippa? “Yes, this is Branda Conti. Who is this, and what do you know about Phillippa? You’d better start talking before I hunt your ass down and make you talk.” “My name is Nikolai Vasily, and your friend is now my cousin-in-law. I am outside of your house. Come. Open the door.” “Outside my house? What the hell?” She walked over to the door and looked through the window to peer outside. There was no way he was standing outside her door. As her gaze landed on the tall-ass man standing on the front porch, her breath left her body in a whoosh and she could only gasp, trying to get air back into her lungs. Oh my damn! He was absolutely gorgeous. Men weren’t made like him anymore. Were they? Hell, maybe he was an endangered species of

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hunter, because he sure as hell was looking at her as if he wanted to gobble her ass up. She took her time and perused him from head to toe. Thick black hair brushed the collar of his crisp white shirt, curling slightly at the ends. His black suit jacket was tailored to fit across his broad shoulders and highlighted the contours of his body. Standing five foot nine in her bare feet, she appreciated men who were taller than she was, and this man on her front porch definitely fit the bill. She measured his height at about six foot four inches of pure male, and damn, she wanted to taste. “Let me in, Branda.” Well, damn, when he said it like that… Did she really have a choice? “Why should I? How do I know you’re really here because of Phillippa?” “You know I won’t harm you. You can feel it. Even with this blasted door between us, you know that I would never harm you. Plus, Coco and Rex know I’m here, and they want you to open the door for me.” How the hell did he know Coco and Rex were standing at the door as if begging her to open it? That was just weird. “Come on, Branda.” “Fine, I’ll let you in.” She clicked off the phone and stomped over to the door and opened it to the fine ass man on the other side. He filled the doorframe as no other man had, and his eyes…damn, his eyes were

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ice blue, and he appeared to look right through into her very soul. As he walked through the door and into her living room, she couldn’t help but follow him with her gaze. He exuded confidence, sexuality, and badass motherfucker, all without saying a word. Both of the once loyal dogs turned away from her and walked behind him as if they couldn’t stand to be out of his presence for very long. She watched him settle down onto the couch and marveled at how he looked as if he belonged here, in her house, with her. Never one to have fantasies about a man, she couldn’t understand her immediate and intense reaction to him. Hands itching to touch him, she balled them into fists at her side to stop from reaching out. Her legs wanted to walk towards him and climb on his lap, so she sat down in a chair on the far side of the room and planted her feet firmly on the ground. Watching him as he seemed to size her up, she noticed his mouth quirked up on one side as he allowed his gaze to roam over the body, starting at the top of her head and ending t the bottom of her neon pink painted toes. Why did she feel as if he was undressing her with his eyes? It was as if he were actually touching her, when she knew it wasn’t true. “Branda, why are you so far away? Come sit with me.”

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“Nikolai, right?” At his nod, she continued, “I need you to tell me why you’re here. Where is my friend, and why are you here instead of her?” “All will be explained in time. First, I need you to come to me.” Branda didn’t know why she felt compelled to follow his request, but she did. Her mind was screaming that she didn’t have to listen to anything he told her to do, but her feet still carried her over to where he was. Ever since she had heard his voice, her body had been drawn to him. Hell, not just her body, but her mind and heart as well. She felt seduced by his words and voice alone, and the man hadn’t yet touched her, not even to shake her hand. He’d only been in her presence for five minutes, and she knew—just knew—that her life was about to change. Forever. *** Nikolai wanted Branda in the worst way, and he wanted her now! When his cousin had asked that he come to claim his new wife’s two dogs and bring them back home, he hadn’t considered saying no. He loved his cousin, and by virtue of Phillippa being his mate, his loyalty extended to her as well. This would be a

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surprise for her, and so Nikolai had gladly accepted this task when Gavriil had asked. They were more like brothers than cousins, and if Gavriil needed Nikolai to run this errand and help his new cousin-in-law adjust to her new life, then he would do whatever needed to be done. What he had not counted on was finding his mate. A human mate at that. After taking on this task, he had found out everything he could about Branda Conti. Where she lived, where she worked, was she single… Not sure why he needed to know that last bit of information, he still made sure he found the answer. After he had seen her picture, which was delivered to him by the family investigator, he knew immediately that she was the one for him. She was his mate, and his mission had immediately changed. No longer was he coming here just as a favor for his cousin. He was now here to claim his woman, and he’d be damned if he left without her. Based on her reaction to his presence, he knew she wasn’t immune to him either, and her soul recognized his as its other half. She felt the pull, and it couldn’t be denied. No matter how hard she may try to deny what she was feeling for him, he knew she recognized him as her other half, and he would not let her get away.

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He needed to tell her about what he was and what she would become. Being a upir gave him powers beyond anything Branda would understand, and while he wanted her to have the choice, he could not deny that he needed her more than he needed to breathe. The one thing she would probably find most unnerving was a upir’s need for blood. While he did need blood to survive, he could walk through life and live among the humans without anyone being aware. The one major difference between his kind and humans was that when a upir found his or her mate, it was instant. No matter whether the mate was human or otherwise, they would both know it the minute they came in contact with each other. As she walked over to sit beside him, he quickly grabbed her by the waist and sat her down on his lap. She stiffened initially, but seemed to understand and accept that this was where she belonged. “Branda, there are things I must tell you about your friend’s new life. Things you must know before we go any further.” As he looked into her dark brown eyes, he knew he wasn’t going to make it. He sighed deeply as he realized what he was about to do. “You will have to forgive me for delaying the telling of the story, but I cannot resist you. I pray that you will understand

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later. You are so beautiful, and if I don’t taste you now…” He grabbed her head and pulled her face down to his. This wasn’t just going to be a kiss. No, he was claiming her as his mate, and she would soon find out exactly what that meant.

Chapter Two Oh goodness, his kiss was intoxicating. No, this was more than a kiss. She was being ravished, and damn, it felt good. This man, this stranger, made her feel more in five minutes than any other man before him who’d had hours at their disposal. She wanted to crawl over him and wrap her arms and legs around his body and never let go. Goose bumps rose on her skin as she deepened the kiss. Her hands went to the back of his head and her fingers tangled in his hair, clutching tightly as if her life depended on it. She suddenly realized that she needed him. More than she had ever needed anyone before. Her only thought was that she needed him with her, around her, inside her…. She never wanted to let him go. Her response to him made no sense, but she didn’t have time to try and understand what was so wrong about her absolute and unwavering desire for him. Common sense told her this response to him was not normal, but damn if she cared. The only thing that mattered right now was making love to him. “Nikolai, please. I need you.” Begging was not something she did, ever, but the intense feelings he evoked within her could no longer be ignored. “Branda, I must explain first. You don’t understand what you’re asking. I must tell you….”

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“No, tell me later. I don’t want to wait. I don’t understand this response to you, but I want you to make love to me. I want to be with you. I need you to make me yours.” “Oh, baby, you’ll be mine all right.” His strength amazed her as he lifted them both up from the couch in one swift motion, as if she weighed no more than a feather. Which she knew wasn’t true. Her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms circled his neck as he walked toward the back of the house. “My bedroom is on the left.” “I know.” She would wonder how he knew the location of her bedroom later. All that mattered at this moment was that he got them to her bed as soon as he could. Nikolai walked into her room and laid her down in the middle of her king-size bed. She had always thought it was too big for her and had often questioned why she had bought it in the first place. She now understood exactly why this purchase had felt so right when she’d walked into the store. She had been waiting for this moment for most of her life—she and Nikolai would need every single inch of this bed. Long, lean fingers slowly unbuttoned her shirt and unclasped her bra, exposing her breasts to his gaze. He stared at her as if he was mesmerized, unable to get enough of the view.

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“I want you, Branda, and I don’t think I can stop. Please tell me you want this as much as I do. Please, don’t push me away.” “No, I want you. I want this.” And she meant every single word. She did want this, more than she had ever wanted anything else. He dipped his head to her chest and slowly ran his tongue across her nipple. His cool breath blowing over the spot he licked caused her back to arch. It felt so good, and she needed more. His hands continued roaming over her body, increasing the feeling of desire and something else she could not even begin to name. He also paid attention to her other breast, which she could admit was feeling sorely neglected. He tweaked her nipple between his thumb and forefinger as his mouth continued paying homage to her other nipple. His hand then moved down her ribcage and trailed over her stomach, which was never as flat as she wanted it to be, and rubbed lazy circles around her belly button. She went to move his hand, a little embarrassed that her body wasn’t perfect, when he stopped her. “No, I love touching every inch of you. This is where you hold life, where you will hold our children. Let me worship you and memorize the feel of my woman’s body.”

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Well, damn, who was she to deny him the chance to worship her? All that talk about future children would need some additional discussion, but she would worry about that later. His hand burrowed into her pants and past the waistband of her underwear, snaking down to her wet sex. “Oh my! Yes, that feels so good.” Her legs fell open to allow for more room. His fingers were magic, and her body’s response to him was mind blowing. Nothing, and no one, had ever made her feel this way before. “I feel the same way. You feel so good in my arms. You are perfect for me. You will always be perfect for me.” He removed his hand from her pants and slowly brought it up to his mouth and licked her cream from his fingers. He bent his head again to kiss her, and Branda shivered when his breath brushed across her tingling skin. This is not really happening. It can’t be. Why does he make me feel this way? Branda opened her mouth, letting Nikolai’s tongue delve inside. She wanted to control the kiss, if only for a while, but he wasn’t giving her the opportunity. Nikolai pulled away from her mouth for just a moment to look into her eyes, “Your kisses enchant me, Branda, but don’t think for one second that you are controlling our lovemaking. By the end of

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this day, you will crave me, crave my touch. You will never be separated from me from this day going forward. You have to understand that. Do you accept me, Branda? I need to hear you say it.” Accept him? Damn, she’d agree to just about anything right now. Her control seemed to have left as soon as she heard his voice through the telephone. There was no way she could turn him away or ask him to stop. Not now, not ever. If he needed the words to get his ass moving, then she’d give him the words. “Yes, Nikolai, I accept you. I am yours and you are mine. Make love to me.” Nikolai pulled up from her for just a second and pulled his shirt over his head. His chest was beautifully sculpted with ripples and ridges standing out in stark contrast against pale skin. She reached down to unbutton his pants and pushed them down off of his hips. She wanted him just like this with his clothes halfway off, but knew that for what she had in mind, he would need to be completely naked. He gave her another heart-stopping kiss and rolled off of the bed to remove the remainder of his clothes. As he pushed his pants to the floor, he revealed his hard cock to her gaze. Her pussy instantly became drenched, and her body shivered with need. Oh, how she needed this man. “Please, Nikolai, don’t make me wait.”

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“Never. Never will you need to wait again.” He came back to her on the bed, placing his large body in between her long legs as he kissed her into oblivion, their tongues mimicking the action their bodies would soon be engaged in. He broke the kiss and began to trail kisses down her body, beginning with her face, neck, breasts, and stomach, until he reached the one sweet spot on her body that never got as much attention as it needed. The first swipe of his tongue against her clit caused fireworks to shoot off inside her body. A moan was ripped from her throat, and she clenched her hands in his thick hair. She tried to resist pushing his face closer to her mound, but damn, if he didn’t start doing something more, that was exactly what she’d do. Then he did it again. Just a swipe. One long, tantalizing swipe against her weeping sex and she almost lost her damn mind. “Nikolai, you’d better quit fucking with me and give me what I need.” She could have sworn she heard a chuckle, but she was too focused on getting what she wanted to really pay attention. “As you wish, my love.” His head dipped, and he began to dine on her—yes, dine on her—as if she were a meal at a five-star restaurant. Large hands gripped her ass and lifted her hips, bringing her closer to his mouth. He feasted on her as if he was trying to crawl

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inside of her using only his tongue. She felt her orgasm rushing through her body. She swore that she could almost feel her blood coursing through her veins like never before. Her body exploded, and she screamed his name as she experienced the most intense orgasm in her entire life. As she slowly calmed, she realized her desire for him had not gone away; if anything, it had increased. With every fiber of her being, she felt as if her next breath depended on making love to him. Without a word, he slid up her body and kissed her long and deep, allowing her to taste her essence on his tongue. He positioned his cock at her entrance and slid inside, all the while whispering words she couldn’t understand. The meaning of the words did not matter though. She could tell by the tone and the longing she heard in his voice that he was speaking of his need for her. His body didn’t stop pushing forward until he was so deeply imbedded that it felt as if he were touching her womb. Damn, he felt good inside her body, stretching her walls to accommodate his size. This is what has been missing from my life. How could a man she’d just met feel so right? At this moment, she truly no longer cared, as long as he didn’t stop loving her. She closed her eyes and whispered his name, pouring all of

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the desire she felt for him at the moment into one word, “Nikolai…” “Branda, my love. Does it feel good to you?” Nikolai whispered in her ear as he entered on the down stroke. “Oh, yes.” Branda gasped for breath as Nikolai pulled back, removing all but the very tip of his cock from her body. He quickly thrust forward, eliciting a guttural moan from her throat, the likes of which she had never heard come from her before. Her hands shot out and grabbed his firm ass, gripping him tighter, sending him a message that she would not let him go anytime soon. “More! I need more!” Heeding her demand, he became a man on a mission, his only intent to make sure she had several mind-numbing orgasms before he was done. As she felt her body start to tingle, she knew another one was almost upon her and from the way her body started to quiver and shake, it would be stronger than the last. She looked up at him and noticed his eyes appeared to be glowing. What the fuck? “Oh my…” “Branda, I need you to be with me. Don’t deny me, don’t deny us.” His voice had changed, and damn if she didn’t see fangs in his mouth. “Let me make you mine, my love, my everything. Vy - moj pomoshhnik dushi, Branda. You are my soul mate.”

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She didn’t understand why she responded to those words with such intensity, but she knew he meant them. In that very moment, she didn’t care what he was…or wasn’t. All she cared about was being with him. Not sure why she accepted the message her eyes were sending to her brain without revulsion or horror, she just knew that she did and that she was okay with it. As long as she was with Nikolai, everything would be okay. “I won’t deny you, or us. I accept you, Nikolai. Make me yours.” As soon as the words were released from her mouth, he dipped his head to her neck, right in the space between her shoulder and her ear. She felt something like pinpricks on her skin, and her blood coursed through her veins. Her body instantly reacted, and her orgasm flowed through her body like a freight train. *** Mine! Forever! Nikolai couldn’t help the words that entered his mind as he mated with his woman. He hoped she would forgive him for what he had done. If she didn’t forgive him right away, they would have their entire lives for him to make it up to her. As he

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gave her the mate bite and began her transformation from human to upir, he felt the tingle of his own orgasm as his body responded to finding his mate. As his seed flowed into her womb, he was fully aware that their lovemaking today would result in a child. He would explain all of that to her when they had a moment to catch their breath. Which, if he had anything to say about it, would be sometime tomorrow. Now that he’d found his mate, he could understand why his cousins were so utterly and completely enthralled by their own. He would do anything to make her happy. Anything except be without her or allow her to be without him. That was the one thing he could never give her. As long as he existed, he would be by her side. As he continued kissing her, he realized that the mating fever was upon them. He needed her again, and as he slowly began to move within her, he knew he’d never get enough.

Chapter Three “Are you fucking kidding me?” Naked as the day she was born, Branda stomped across her living room floor, trying not to punch the man sitting on her couch with a sheepish look on his face. “Dammit, Nikolai, you should have told me this before now. Like before you seduced me and kept me in bed for more than three days.” “Branda, I tried—” “Oh, just shut up. You should have tried harder.” She walked into the bedroom and grabbed a robe. Angry could not even begin to describe how she felt about Mr. Fine Ass Vampire Son of a Bitch sitting in her living room. She was turning into a fucking vampire? You have to be shitting me. As she stormed back into the living room to stand in front of him, her left foot tapped in annoyance. “So, let me get this straight. Not only has Phillippa married one of your kind, but so has her cousin Mariah. You are a upir, also known as a vampire, and you and I are now mated. This means I’m your wife for all eternity.” She held up her hand as he started to speak again. “Hold on, you, because I’m not quite done. Plus, during our mating, you failed to tell me that the true mate of a upir will become pregnant the first time the mate bite is given while

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making love. So, as of right now, I’m basically wedded, bedded, and pregnant with your child. Do I have that right?” She felt tears coming to her eyes because this really was a bit too much for one person to handle. Damn, she knew she should have questioned her response to him. However, if she looked back on this situation rationally, she couldn’t deny what he had told her. She had felt drawn to him from the very beginning, and nothing could have stopped her from being with him. Not even her common sense. It wasn’t that she was upset about his being a upir, but she was upset about the whole mated for life thing and being pregnant before the actual wedding—well, at least her idea of a wedding. Branda had turned away from Nikolai as she let the situation soak in, but she felt him stand up and come up behind her. When he wrapped his hands around her waist, she could not help leaning back against his naked chest. Damn, this was sad. She should be mad at him right now, but all she could think about was making love to him again. I want you again as well, my beautiful wife. Get out of my head, Nikolai. I’m still upset with you. Laughing softly, he obliged her and spoke his words aloud. “Branda, you cannot deny what your

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heart is telling you. You know we belong together. Our souls knew one another as soon as we spoke. Just imagine the possibilities. I will spend the rest of my existence loving you, pleasing you, and wanting you in every way imaginable.” “Fine, but I need time to get used to everything. You’ll teach me, right?” “Of course. Plus, you’ll need to be ready for our trip back to Kovorkiistan. We have to return the dogs to Phillippa. She is homesick and will be happy to have the dogs with her. Not to mention, she will be pleased to have her best friend there as well. You will see that she was never in any danger and that Phillippa is happy with Gavriil. Plus, that is my home, and I cannot stay away for long. I believe you will be happy there.” She sighed, slowly recognizing that she had already come to terms with what he had told her. “As long as you’re with me, that’s all I need. However, I’m still a little upset with Phillippa. She should have called to at least let me know she was okay. You have no idea the trouble I went through looking for her. I even had to call… Oh, shit!! Allison! I have to call Allison and call off the search.” “What search? What are you talking about?” His brow was furrowed with worry.

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“I have to call my friend Allison and let her know that Phillippa is safe. Oh, can I tell her about you? She’ll never believe what I have to say. Although she may want to come with us to Kovorkiistan to see it for herself.” “Can you trust her? If you trust her and she is your friend, feel free to tell her about us.” His hands began to knead her thighs, and she could feel his erection growing as it pushed against her lower back. “Yes, I would trust her with my life.” Damn, his stamina was amazing. “Nikolai, aren’t you tired?” “I’m never too tired to make love to you. Call your friend later, Branda. Come with me. I need you again.” She let go of her anger and stopped fighting what she knew was the truth. He was her soul mate, and she would never leave his side. He turned her body so that she was facing him. His hands reached down to grab her behind as he lifted her body flush with his. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he began to walk toward the bedroom. It no longer mattered how they had come to be. All that mattered was that they were together, and nothing could come between them. “I love you, Nikolai.” “YA budu vsegda l’ubit’ Vas, Branda. I will always love you, forever.”

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***RM***

TAG!!!!!!!!!!

Spring Ache by Jeanie Johnson and Jayha Leigh

Chapter One “Motherfucker.” Desron Lorcc ignored the scandalized looks she received from her one-word sentence just like she ignored the blood staining her cargo jeans, the mud covering her steel-toed boots, the fucking frigid air that blanketed them, and the pain thumping through her body like bass thumped in clubs. The blood was a result of her ignoring Exodus 20:13 You shall not murder. Normally, she was against murdering, but then she was also against someone trying to murder her. The mud was a result of their unplanned trip out in the middle of the woods. The cold was her own damn fault. She should’ve been chilling on a beach with her fellow college students, being it was spring break and all, but no, she was on a mission trip surrounded by Bible-toting, Scripture-quoting dogooders who were so old they might have actually taken turns holding the flashlight when God was creating the universe. The pain was due to her not being up-to-date on her hand-to-hand combat. Dammit, it was hard to get in two hours of training a day when she was double-majoring in grad school. Still, when she got back to Nashville she was going to slide in some fucksomeshitup-kuido in between Constitutional Law and Ethics.

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Ah, she was so not liking it out here right now. So not liking it, and if she weren’t interested in staying out of jail and keeping her rap sheet blank, she would’ve told her potential probation officer to kiss her ass—and not just some of it but the whole, damn thing. Asshole. Despite the two pending charges of felony assault back in Rich Peopleville, Virginia, she was a nice person…except when you put your hands on her without first gaining permission, and then only after undergoing a thorough physical and blood test. The Desron Rules of Engagement consisted of one rule: I’m not your bitch, so don’t fucking touch me. Anyone who violated that rule was going to be getting an upclose visit to the ICU ward at the nearest hospital, as those drunken frat boys on the prowl for black girl pussy had found out. After removing their grabby hands from her titties and ass, she’d yanked those silver spoons out of their mouths and broken them off so far up their asses they were practically spitting silver mines. To finish it off, she gave them a little size-twelve boot in the face. The only reason she wasn’t tossed up under the jail was due to the quick thinking of one Allison Davis—badass dictator in training. Allison had taped the whole beat down on her camera phone even as she’d whined to her about not leaving her any ass to

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beat. Desron couldn’t help but like Allison. She had moxie…and lots of it. The other reason she wasn’t up under the jail was because her momma and daddy just weren’t going to allow that to happen, despite the ludicrous number of ordinances, laws and the like she’d broken. Major General Vienna B. Lorcc and Rear Admiral Asim Lorcc might be career military, but they were career parents first. Her left ass cheek didn’t even get a chance to touch the police cruiser, much less the seat, before her family arrived on the scene. Though her parents were nearby, being that they clocked in at the Pentagon, she knew they’d broken all kinds of speed limits to get to her so fast. As soon as that black SUV pulled up, her daddy was out the door before the tires stopped spinning, and her momma was right behind him. And right behind them in their chauffeured limousine were her momma’s best friends and her play-aunts Baylor Ermenrich (five-time kumite—underground no-holds-barred mixed martial arts tournaments— champion) and Dr. Amani McDyess (most sought after attorney in Washington, D.C., and everywhere that surrounded it, including Canada). Seeing the destruction she’d left, her momma quickly hugged her up and promised, “Baby, if they

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even try some bullshit like throwing you in jail, you know I’m coming to bust you out.” Her daddy cosigned on that. Her Aunt Baylor did what she always did—nodded her agreement and busied herself scoping out motherfuckers who were about to have a bad fucking day. Aunt Amani didn’t say a thing, but she didn’t need to. She simply lifted that perfectly arched eyebrow, patted her short fro and started writing down the names of people about to be on her shit list. Since her parents said it, she had no choice but to believe it. Between her parents, her Aunt Baylor and their attorney, she had the connections, legalese, and money behind her. Yay her, because despite spending every summer in survival camps and being trained in hand-to-hand combat by her Aunt Baylor, she had no desire whatsoever to spend time in anybody’s jail. Along with having strict requirements for cleanliness (the lawgivers in the book of Leviticus would have been like ‘don’t you think you’re going overboard?’), she had personal space issues. And if that wasn’t enough, she had issues with strange coochie in her face. Growing up to be someone’s bitch wasn’t anywhere on her list. Obviously, she didn’t go to jail. Hell, she didn’t even make it downtown. Instead, she was bundled into her play-aunt’s limo and taken to the Georgetown

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University Hospital, which was ironically where the unsanctioned touchers were transported as well. Seeing the condition their sons were in had their parents threatening all manner of retribution, from getting her parents fired, to throwing her into some kind of foreign prison, to sending the whole family back to Africa. Aware of the scrutiny, her parents countered their threats and ignorance with silence. Everything would’ve been swept under the rug if the public smack down had been between her and some regular moneyed-up frat boys, but because she’d instilled the fear of her into the progeny of the nephews of some dignitaries, the shit had hit the fan and the stink was sticking all over the capitol. It might’ve all stuck on her if not for Allison, her phone and her ‘fight the system’ personality. Having stuck around to get her rubberneck on, and not liking what she heard through the grapevine, Allison didn’t waste any time kicking off a riot. “No justice; no peace! No justice; no peace!” she ranted, whipping the crowd into a frenzy outside of Georgetown U Hospital. How that chick had the lowdown before the media had the lowdown was a mystery, but since she was on her side, she wasn’t asking any questions. It took a few days for things to get settled. After the authorities confiscated Allison’s phone and viewed the video, they came to a decision that no one

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particularly liked. All of the serious charges against both her and the frat boys were dismissed and they were all charged with disorderly conduct, since according to the powers that be it was kind of a no harm/no foul situation. However, since she’d used excessive force, she was ordered to pay three-quarters of their hospital bill. She was also given the choice of performing one hundred hours of community service (that the assholes got to choose) and later having the misdemeanor dropped, or she could simply stay out of trouble for six months and perform forty hours of community service. Since Desron had had the privilege of being herself all her life (all twenty-five years of it), she knew there was a good chance she’d whip someone else’s ass before six months was up, so she chose option A. Though she’d stayed out of jail, the people in her camp were still six kinds of pissed off. Her momma was pissed that she couldn’t make those boys disappear…right after she served their nuts to them for dinner. Her daddy was pissed that he couldn’t lay waste to their countries. Her big brother Socom was pissed that he’d have to wait until the boys were released from the ICU to beat them some more. Allison was pissed that five-o had confiscated her phone for evidence and deleted the video, thus depriving her of multiple hits on YouTube.

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Of course her aunts were pissed that anything except apologies were leveled at her. But they were the kind of women who didn’t get mad; they got even…and then they got mad…and then even some more…and a little bit more after that. Aunt Baylor hadn’t said shit to the gloating parents, but she had plenty to say to her banker, which resulted in her owning a controlling interest in the three banks that held the mortgages to the headquarters of the companies the boys’ parents worked for, the notes to their companies’ jets, the notes to their yachts and villas in the Mediterranean. Oops for them for not realizing that Baylor Austin Ermenrich wasn’t just a pretty face, but the wife of a man who owned half of Europe and a disproportionate percentage of Euros. Beyond that, she was also Texan, and nobody fucked with Texans. And if you didn’t know, all you had to do was read the signs the great state posted alongside its highways. Then there was Aunt Amani. She hadn’t said shit…and thus they were all scared. A silent Amani McDyess was a bad enemy to have. Even Aunt Baylor was unnerved by a silent Amani. In the end, it was the first of many laughs for Desron. Allison just so happened to find another recording of the smack down and, yeah, that didn’t go bad. Their fraternity ended up disbanded. Their

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friends, who didn’t want any part of the scandal, dropped them, and of course the boys were too fucked up to worry about anything outside of how long they’d be peeing blood. And the cherry on top? Their parents, their uncle, and the companies they worked for were all relegated to being Baylor’s personal bitches. That was gravy, but it still didn’t get her out of going along on a mission trip. There were mission trips to all kinds of places, but of course, she’d gotten hitched with the mission trip to Eastern Europe…in late winter. Dammit. She was sure there were people in much warmer places who needed some New Testament. Places like Hawaii, the Cayman Islands…hell, at this point she’d take West Bum Fuck, Georgia. At least there she could get some decent sweet tea with her Jesus. It wasn’t that she had a personal vendetta against missionaries (although she did have one against tyrants); she just didn’t like the ones who hawked their religion like used car salesman. ‘Want some rice? Take my God, then…or keep being hungry.’ What kind of shit was that? For that matter, what kind of shit was allowing people— any people—to be hungry in the first place? Feeling a stab of pain go through her, she checked her stitches to make sure they were still shut and felt her head to make sure she didn’t have a fever.

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Yes to the first, no to the second. And since she was in the checking mode, she checked her stolen guns once more for ammo, her pockets for the stolen machetes she’d stuffed there and the horizon for danger. Turning, she checked on her flock. For better or worse, the missionaries were her flock, and she was their shepherd. Being that it was getting colder, darker and their situation more desperate by the moment, she made sure they kept together, as she had no desire to reenact Luke 15:4 or Matthew 18:12. Ironic, especially as she’d spent the last two days praying as hard as she could that her own shepherds (her momma and daddy) would leave their flock to come looking for her.

Chapter Two If she’d hated the pussy-ass frat boys before, finding herself asshole deep in people who wanted to kill her and her newfound homies made her hate them more. She warmed herself with the thought that the boys weren’t enjoying shit anymore within the confines of the U.S. It was nice to have friends who had juice like that. Oh, they hadn’t been made to leave, but by the time her momma, Aunt Baylor, and Aunt Amani had gotten through with them, they’d wanted to leave. Still, their misery really didn’t help her right now. Matter of fact, when she got out of this (she couldn’t think of the alternative), she was going to pay a visit to their country and fuck some shit up on GP. Oh, she was going to have a story to tell her homies when she got back to Nashville. What’d you do for spring break? I got lectured all week by missionaries, and then we all got kidnapped by one of the most ruthless gangs in Eastern Europe. Of course, not having planned on being killed, sold into sexual slavery, or held hostage while they bled my family dry, I had to go on a killing spree. In the midst of the spree, I got shanked three times and had to stitch myself up without anesthesia. What about you? Oh, you got freaked by a troupe of hot, blue-chip

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athletes, ate like there was no such thing as calories, then worked off those savory meals by getting voguing with some cross-dressers at the clubs. Damn. Gritting her teeth, she tried to stop feeling sorry for herself. She didn’t want to be out here in the middle of nowhere, but it wasn’t like the rest of her group did either. Instead of bitching and moaning about it, those cats had a skip in their step as they thanked the Lord for leading them to a new place where they could spread the Good News. Despite the way she personally felt about most organized religion, she admired her Bible-toting group. They took Luke 4: 17-19 real seriously. They’d even tried to tell their kidnappers the Good News, hurling Scripture at them even as Desron hurled machetes. In the midst of the storm in the middle of nowhere, they were guided by their faith. Faith was a good thing, but so was being alive. Having spent the last day hiding and walking, they weren’t technically in the middle of nowhere. They were somewhere along the coast of the Baltic Sea. Considering how long they’d traveled with their temporary kidnappers and the many hours they’d been hiking the rugged area (who knew missionaries were in such good shape?), she estimated they were either in the very northwestern or very southwestern

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part of Lithuania. For their sakes, she hoped it was the southwest, not because she was in love with the region, but because southwest Lithuania bordered the kingdom of Kovorkiistan. And while she wasn’t thrilled about trekking to Kovorkiistan—not that it wasn’t a lovely place—when she really wanted to be enjoying the hotness that paraded up and down South Beach, Miami, she was thrilled that the kingdom was ruled by the Shah family. While she wouldn’t count herself among the Shah’s close circle of friends, she’d had the privilege of meeting Alexei Raijin Brijesh Shah, the Crown Prince, as her godfather had done business with the family. The fact that her godfather did business with him meant two things. One, he was ridiculously rich, and two, the Crown Prince knew how to keep his eyeballs off of Aunt Baylor. Her godfather was funny about Baylor—like anyone was crazy enough to fuck with the short-tempered, multiple sword-wielding Texan. Of course even if Alexei had been that crazy, he would’ve curbed all of that crazy after meeting her aunt. Aunt Baylor was fucking nuts, and she wasn’t afraid to show it to anybody. ‘The dumber people think you are, baby, the more surprised they are when you drop an ass whipping on them.’ It was a crazy quip, but it was true, which their kidnappers had soon found out. Right now they

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needed some good people. The missionaries might not like her cussing, her don’t-give-a-shitness, or the trail of bodies she’d left in their wake, but they didn’t deserve to die like this. No one did. And that was why she respected her parents so much. Vienna and Asim were military to the core—not because they enjoyed destroying things, but because they believed in liberating people. So did she, but she much preferred doing it from the comforts of her home, where the thermostat was set on a reasonable seventy degrees Fahrenheit in winter and sixty-four in summer. While she didn’t have the stomach for the military (she had a thing about people telling her what to do), she’d lived a privileged life because of her parent’s drive. She’d traveled all over the world, and the few times she and Socom couldn’t go with their parents, they’d holed up in Aunt Baylor’s palatial Luxembourg estate or Aunt Amani’s massive D.C. brownstone that was a hop, skip and jump away from the Supreme Court. She’d had a kickass education, which had resulted in her being fluent in kicking ass, taking names, German, French, Russian, Greek, Luxembourgish, and liberation theology. She believed in justice and righteousness not because it was politically correct, but because she’d grown up with a family that stressed those virtues. Despite the blood covering her jeans, the machetes in

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her hand, the semi-automatics strapped to her neck, and the trail of bodies she’d left in her wake, she was a nice person. She was a nice person who was hungry and cold. “Fuck,” she mumbled just to blow off steam. “You shouldn’t cuss so much. Or kill people so much,” Head Bible-Toter said. “I like to cuss. I also like being alive,” she said. “What about ‘turn the other cheek’?” “I do. I turned my left butt cheek to them right before showing them the right one,” she said just to rile her. All she got for her efforts was a strong ‘hummph.’ Normally, she wouldn’t mess with older people, but she couldn’t resist teasing the woman. Besides, the missionaries knew her well enough now not to be too offended by her cussing. And she knew them well enough not to be offended by their proselytizing. She and the missionaries were at an impasse. It was like a Mexican standoff, except it wasn’t warm like Mexico, and there weren’t any plates of delicious tortas, and there wasn’t any siesta in sight. “You know what cheek I meant, youngin’,” Head Bible-Toter said. “Yes ma’am, I do. I’m quite familiar with Matthew 5:39. I’ve read it many times, most recently in the original Greek. I’m also well-acquainted with the Beatitudes, the Preamble to the Declaration of

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Independence, and the Declaration of Human Rights. It’s a fact that don’t nobody do you like Jesus. While He raised Lazarus from the dead in John 11:44; the widow’s son in Luke 7:14; and, Jairus’ daughter in Mark 5:41, Matthew 9:25, and Luke 8:54-55, I don’t really want to be dead more than one time and I want that to be a long time from now. And despite y’all working my last nerve, I don’t want y’all to die anytime soon either…but don’t take that aforementioned statement to mean that I like y’all. I’m just letting you know it’s going to be hard for y’all to spread the Good News if you’re dead, so step it up. I want to get to Kovorkiistan ASAP. The sooner we get there, the less people I have to kill.” After her mini-lecture, they hushed up. She wasn’t naïve enough to think their silence was because they agreed with her. They were probably quiet because they could feel the growing desperation of their situation and because they really didn’t want her to kill any more people. Truth be told, she didn’t want to kill any more people either. She could’ve gladly gone the whole of her life never having done so, but she also could’ve gladly gone the whole of her life never having been kidnapped, threatened, or stabbed. She’d have to live with that…but at least she’d live, and when she got home, she was going to have an angry

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Socom all up in her face telling her ‘I told you so,’ even as he hugged her almost to death. She’d told him there wasn’t any need for him to interrupt his residency to come babysit her on her community service. ‘What could go wrong on a mission trip?’ she’d asked flippantly. Famous last words, she thought as they navigated the slippery terrain that was the result of a freak snowstorm. As if the kidnapping and killing spree weren’t enough, the weather just served to add to her level of pissed off. Majestic mountains, green valleys sprinkled with jewel-colored flowers her ass. The Baltic area in late winter was better left on the front side of a postcard. It was foreboding, snow-covered, gray and frigid…nothing at all like Miami in March. Sigh. Damn. Fuck. She hated being out here, but more than that, she hated being scared. Her sighs got the attention of Head Bible-Toter. “Are you scared, Desron?” she asked in a gentle, momma-like voice. No, she wasn’t scared. Scared was a temporary state that was sometimes followed by exhilaration. That was why people watched scary movies, did dangerous things, visited haunted houses. There wasn’t anything temporary about this experience. She’d carry it with her always. No, she wasn’t scared; she was frightened. More than that, she was

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fearful…but she wasn’t going to admit that to them. It was tough enough to admit it to herself. Resorting to humor, she teased them. “Step it up, people. I haven’t killed or maimed anyone in a few hours, so my belligerence levels are getting low.” Just as she’d expected, they answered her taunt by hastening their gait and by hurling prayers at her. They were good prayers, though. Stopping, she turned to them, and for a brief moment she went all Isaiah and was fully exposed even though she wasn’t prophesying. “I could use some Psalms right about now.” And just like that, they gave it to her. They started with Psalm 23:4. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. Then they rolled right into Psalm 27:1-3. 1 The LORD is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life— of whom shall I be afraid? 2 When evil men advance against me to devour my flesh, when my enemies and my foes attack me, they will stumble and fall. 3 Though an army besiege me, my heart will not fear; though war break out against me, even then will I be confident. She’d read Psalms countless times, but never had they sounded so good. Just when she’d gotten

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used to the tender-sounding Scripture, Head BibleToter pulled the okeydoke. Putting her hand under Desron’s chin, Head Bible-Toter looked her right in the face. “Your lips may say you need some Psalms, but the look in your eyes says you need some hard-hitting Scripture. How about some Isaiah?” And before she could answer, Head Bible-Toter started reciting…without a Bible. That chick was good. “Isaiah 35:4. Say to those with fearful hearts, ‘Be strong, do not fear; your God will come, He will come with vengeance; with divine retribution He will come to save you.’” Even though she wondered why her God had to be male, Desron had to admit that right now she didn’t care which God (male or female) brought the water, as long as one of them came. “Isaiah 41:10. Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.” Ah, a gender-neutral God. She could get down with that. And she could use some strength and some upholding, and the world could use some righteousness. “Isaiah 41:13. For I hold you by your right hand—I, the LORD your God.

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And I say to you, ‘Don’t be afraid. I am here to help you.’” Yes, help me, Lord. Help us, Lord. Help us soon. She was tired…so tired. “Can you hit me one more time with some of that Isaiah 35?” And they all hit her with it…and she joined in. “Say to those with fearful hearts, ‘Be strong, do not fear; your God will come, He will come with vengeance; with divine retribution He will come to save you.’” Reciting Scripture out loud when you were supposed to be sneaking probably wasn’t the brightest idea she’d ever have, but right now it felt good. It took away the numbing cold, it took away the burning pain, it took away the fear. And it took away her alertness, for when she looked up, she saw the shadows. Turning to her group, tears streaming down her face, she confessed. “I’m sorry.” “Are you ready to die?” Head Bible-Toter asked. She wanted to be flip, she really did, but she just didn’t have it in her. “No, but are you?” “Yes,” they all said. Knowing they wouldn’t accept the guns or the machetes or the knives, she offered them anyway. Just as she thought, they refused them…even as they refused to refuse her. They held onto her with their hands, and when she pulled away they held onto her with their words, with their song, with their faith.

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Using the last of her strength, she released the safety on each gun and ran towards the shadows. Having seen Scarface plenty of times, and having been moved by the senseless tragedy each time she’d watched it, she didn’t assume. And having grown tired of the pandemic of gun violence in her America, she laid down her guns and picked up her knives. Shooting was so impersonal. If you were going to kill a person, the least you could do was look them in the face when you did so. “Face me and try and kill me,” she taunted. She wasn’t ready to die, but she wasn’t ever going willingly into bondage either. Bondage was not an option. There were only two choices: she would die fighting, or she would fight to die.

Chapter Three Ras Vytautas was not a people person. In fact, he was hardly a person. While he had official records, they were buried so deep that there were times he almost forgot who he was. Almost, but then something would happen, and he’d remember. Those in his inner sanctum described him as a son-of-a-bitch or an asshole. To his enemies he was the things they were too afraid to voice; the terror that filled their minds when they closed their eyes. He was that, but he was also the vengeance they feared would haunt their every waking moment. They were right to fear him because he didn’t know how to quit, never relented, didn’t know the word surrender. And yet, for all that he was simply known as Priest, which was ironic being that he was considered the meanest motherfucker on the team. That was the other ironic thing: most of the time he was the entire team. He went into the places even tenured mercenaries avoided. Slipping in under the radar, he slipped out the same way. The only evidence he’d been there was the fact that the target had been eliminated…without a sign there’d even been a target. While others left a trail of destruction, he didn’t even leave a trail. His targets simply went missing.

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He didn’t feel bad for what he did; he felt bad that despite doing all he could, it was never enough for those living under siege, living in fear, existing on the edges of society. Not known for being much of a talker, he was a superb listener. He heard the cries of the helpless, the moans of the survivors, the travails of the suffering…and he hated those sounds. Yet, as much as he hated those noises, he abhorred the sound of silence even more, because it meant he’d been too late to make a difference. Priest spent most of his time hating people. Only humans treated each other with such cruelty, such dispassion, such apathy. There weren’t a whole lot of people he respected, but Rear Admiral Asim Lorcc and Major General Vienna Lorcc were two people he did. It’d been Rear Admiral Lorcc who’d dragged him out of hell, and it’d been Major General Lorcc who’d been driving the getaway tank. They’d broken laws across continents, but they’d rescued him, and the women he’d been attempting to save. His mother was among them. They’d asked only one question—’who do we need to kill?’—and when he’d told them, they’d finished the job with all due haste. There was no reason for them to put their careers, their lives and their reputations at stake, yet they had, and because of it his mother lived, as did the other women with her.

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They’d never asked for anything in return, even though he’d gladly give his life for them. Even if they’d wanted something, he knew them well enough to know they wouldn’t ask. He’d offered once and had gotten cussed out for his efforts. ‘Just like I wouldn’t put my other children in harm’s way, I wouldn’t do that to you, Ras,’ the Major General had said, all point blank…and he knew she’d meant it. They might not ask him for anything, but he’d made it a habit to keep an ear to the ground where it concerned them. What hurt the Lorccs hurt him. When he’d heard through his connections that their daughter’s missionary group had gone missing, he was already en route. He’d bring Desron Lorcc back, or he’d raze Eastern Europe to the ground looking for her and for those stupid enough to take her away from her family. Having an idea who’d taken them and for what reason, he contacted the six men he trusted, and six hours later, they were well on their way to tearing the Baltic a new asshole. *** Once they’d narrowed down the players, it took his team less than three hours to locate the place where the kidnapping had gone down. It took less time than that to find the first body. Though each

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member of the elite team had seen their fair share of carnage, they couldn’t help but cringe at the trail of fucked-upness. There was nothing finesse about the kills; there was simply a clinicalness to it. Though he’d seen plenty of Rear Admiral and Major General over the last few years, he’d only seen their children in pictures and from afar. Desron and Socom were always on the move. Bouncing between Luxembourg, D.C. and wherever their parents were stationed, they racked up more frequent flyer miles than many CEOs. And then they’d gone off to college, and while Socom had decided on medicine and settled down, Desron, who’d decided on law and divinity, had soaked up more of the world. There wasn’t a study abroad that she turned down, much to her father’s dismay. From her file, he’d learned she didn’t go to any of the glamorous places; instead, she trekked to the places where people needed justice the most. He admired that about her. Depending upon which parent one spoke with, the Lorcc children were either one step away from sainthood or one step away from being swallowed by the earth. The Rear Admiral waxed poetic about his delicate, gentle daughter and his strong, honorable son while the Major General muttered about how both the kids had spent the bulk of their teenage years racking up more rebukes than all of the people in the

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Hebrew Bible. He could only shake his head. The truth probably lay somewhere in the middle, but one should surely expect a little hell-raising from children who bore such…interesting names? Desron being a naval abbreviation for Destroyer Squadron and Socom being an army term for Special Operations Command. Maybe when he became less of a bastard, he’d introduce himself and tell the Lorcc children how amazing their parents were. Or maybe he’d say nothing at all, sure that they knew. Before he could decide, he had to find Desron and return her to her parents. His musings were interrupted by one of his teammates signaling for his attention. Trotting over, he was briefed on the situation. From their tracks, of which there were few, it looked like they’d headed south, and that was a good thing, because to the south lay the tiny country of Kovorkiistan. While the country was populated with some strange people, they didn’t start any shit, so he had no beef with them…unless they were holding Desron against her will. In that case, he’d have beef with them, but it’d be brief because they’d stop existing. Finding the group of missionaries and hearing Desron among them, Priest breathed his first full breath. Not knowing who was friend and who was foe

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and not having cleared the area yet, he maintained silence. Signaling his team, they surrounded them. Anyone who wanted the missionaries would have to go through them…or come in from above. And if anyone dared such a thing, his team had a shoulder rocket that would bring them down. A fiery crash wasn’t his usual way of doing things, but nothing about this mission was usual. While waiting for the all-clear, he watched the group…and he knew immediately who’d left the trail of bodies. And he knew immediately that the Rear Admiral was full of shit. Desron Lorcc might be female, but the Rear Admiral’s description of her as gentle and almost nun-like didn’t fit her. While he knew these weren’t normal circumstances, and while he freely admitted he didn’t know her, he couldn’t imagine a circumstance where the description ‘nunlike’ would ever fit such a fiery warrior. She might be studying religion and law, but somewhere along the way she’d studied a whole lot from the book of Lorcc, and the book of Lorcc was jam-packed with ways to fuck shit up. Desron was a natural leader…and a damn good warrior. He watched how she kept her group together. From the way she moved, it was clear she wasn’t just walking randomly, but leading the group somewhere specific. He smiled, knowing she was heading to the

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very place he was going to take them: 55.5°N, 21.2°E to the nation of Kovorkiistan. His smile was short-lived. Something wasn’t right. Zeroing in on Desron, he realized she was hurt. She didn’t favor any particular body part, but his gut told him she was hurt. His heart urged him to announce himself and scoop her up, but he couldn’t. He needed to know it was safe first. Hurt was better than dead. And she might be hurt, but she still had that wicked sense of humor the Rear Admiral talked about. Hearing snippets of the conversation, he couldn’t help but nod his head at the respect she showed the missionaries. Her parents had raised her right. As the evening wore on, it became clear the group was near the end of their rope. Though they kept walking at Desron’s request, their steps had slowed considerably, as had Desron’s. They all looked haggard, but his eyes remained glued to Desron. Right now she looked desperate. She knew every moment that passed decreased their chances of survival. He hated that look on anyone, and that included his enemies, because his enemies never got a chance to feel it—they never knew he was there until right before he killed them. For the next thirty minutes, he watched that look settle on her even as he listened to them sing Scripture. For Desron to lower her guard

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meant only one thing, and that was the one thing he wasn’t about to accept. She thought she was going to die. Dammit, why the hell was it taking so long to receive the all clear? The signal didn’t even get a chance to fully develop before he was on the move. Receiving the all clear from his team member, he was moments away from announcing himself when she confronted him. He knew she couldn’t see him, but she was aware of his presence. That’d never happened before. The Rear Admiral and Major General had taught her well. When she threw down her guns and faced him with her machetes, he cursed the scruples that wouldn’t allow her to simply blindly shoot at an enemy. That was why most of the bodies had no bullet wounds. Desron preferred to face her enemy. He respected that even though he wanted to shake her for it. While the rest of his team concentrated on the missionaries, he concentrated on Desron. Emerging from the woods, she was on him in an instant. His superior training, superior physical stature, and superior speed allowed him to disarm her, but he still took some shots. In moments, he had her under him, but she fought him with everything she had—and probably some things she didn’t know she had too. “Desron, your father sent me.”

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His admission didn’t even slow her down. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe him; it was simply that she didn’t hear him. She was so deep into survival mode, he feared she wouldn’t come out. He had to reach her, but before he could, he was knocked upside the head by a Bible and almost deafened with a good old-fashioned telling off. “Get off of her! And I mean right now. I won’t kill you, but I will switch your hind parts all over the Baltic.” Pushing him off of Desron, she squeezed herself between them and called her name. “Desron, come on now. We got some people to proselytize now, so get up off the ground so we can get there.” Just like that, Desron was back. Smiling, she looked at the older woman. “You always have to go and do something to stop me from killing someone.” “Didn’t look like you were winning, little bit.” “That’s what you call subterfuge,” Desron said right before she was pulled into the woman’s arms and hugged tight. Priest stepped back as the rest of the group gathered around her, giving her hugs and Scripture. He would let them have a few moments, but no more. Night was upon them, and if they didn’t get a move on, so was hypothermia. Clearing his throat, he barked

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out instructions and herded the group towards the jeeps he’d commandeered. Priest didn’t like a lot of places, but Kovorkiistan was one of the few he did. He didn’t like a lot of people, but the Crown Prince Alexei and his cousin Gavriil were in that group. They’d worked together before, and that was why he called them instead of any number of heads of states or high-powered agencies. *** While there wasn’t a neon sign welcoming visitors to Kovorkiistan, Desron didn’t need one. While most of what went on in the country was like the motto of Las Vegas, one fact she did know about it was that no one fucked with the tiny nation. There was a reason for that…the Shah family and their homies. Alexei Raijin Brijesh Shah and the men who rolled with him were as dangerous as they were fine. Having seen Alexei and his entourage up close and personal, she could verify the fine and compose an opera about it. Even if someone was stupid enough to fuck with them, she couldn’t imagine any men who’d be stupid enough to fuck with the man at her side and the dudes he was rolling with. They might be fine, but one would have to get past the danger to verify that. And the

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most dangerous guy rolling with them was the man standing next to her. She’d grown up hearing about Ras Vytautas. Her momma liked him; her daddy liked him and, well, you didn’t get a better recommendation than that. Still, she’d been kind of busy the last eight years with college, so she hadn’t exactly sat around thinking about him. Of course, that was because she’d never met the man in person. Now that she had, well, damn. He now had the monopoly in ‘hot-ass men she masturbated to.’ Her musings were interrupted by the gasps of two of the missionaries. “Now that is truly beautiful.” Without pulling her eyeballs off of Ras, she commented, “Yes, beautiful.” She was sure the estate was beautiful, but she’d seen plenty of beautiful estates; she’d never seen a man like Ras Vytautas, and that was saying something. Especially considering the fact it was night and she really couldn’t see that much of him, being his hat was pulled low and he was covered from head to toe. Of course it was late winter. Dammit, yet another reason she needed to be somewhere warm enough to require Ras to wear nothing but, um, her. She wasn’t one who made rash decisions, but Ras Vytautas was hers. “Desron, are you going to act civilized?” Head Bible-Thumper asked.

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“Depends on whether the fineness beside me wants me to,” she winked. “Young man, do you need me to sit between you and Desron in order to keep your virtue safe?” “No ma’am, that won’t be necessary. Ms. Lorcc’s father has told me about her sense of humor. I’m sure she’s just teasing me.” “I’m sure she’s not, but if you change your mind, don’t be ashamed to come talk to me.” Sidling up closer to Ras, Desron whispered in his ear, “My daddy might’ve told you about my sense of humor, but did my momma tell you about my sense of adventure and my boldness?” Ras was hers, and he’d better accept that. *** Priest was glad he had all of those years of training under his belt—otherwise he would’ve crashed through the castle gates. Though he wasn’t looking at her, he’d been sure she was looking at him, not the castle, when she’d commented on beauty. And if he’d thought he was misreading her, her whispered statement certainly cleared that up. Desron Lorcc was coming onto him…and his body was responding.

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Luckily, his attention was required elsewhere, else he might’ve dragged her into his lap and showed her that it was dangerous to play with him. Stepping out of the jeep, he approached his friends. “Thank you for receiving us, Alexei. Good to see you again, Gavriil.” “Not a problem; come inside. The staff is preparing a meal. Meanwhile, the east wing has been readied for your group,” Alexei said. Turning to the missionaries, he welcomed them to his country and to his home. “Welcome to Kovorkiistan,” he drawled in perfect English. Turning to Desron, he welcomed her. “Nice to see you again, Desron. I wish it was under different circumstances.” “Me too. Congratulations on your recent wedding. You too, Mr. Vasily. Y’all are so lucky because the sisters you married are hoooooooooooooooot. And being that they’re sisters, I’m hoping they have some stuff for my hair because after I take a couple of showers and a bath or two, I’m going to use my wiles on Ras.” Only Ras’s professionalism stopped him from showing any emotion. Though the rest of his teammates were professional, they didn’t keep their emotions in check. Smiles stretched their lips and mirth lit their eyes. Later, he was going to beat them

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all soundly. Later—after he pleasured himself to the sound of Desron’s voice.

Chapter Four In his fifty-one years of living, Rear Admiral Lorcc had faced a lot of challenges. His wife Vienna had been the biggest. They had a mixed marriage— she’d graduated from West Point, and he’d graduated from Annapolis. He’d met her during the second semester of their third (junior) year and known two things immediately: one, she was going to be his wife, and two, she was a star. Keeping his hands off of her for that last year and a half had been pure hell, but he’d done it because while he’d risk his scholarship and future military career, there was nothing that would make him bring risk or shame to Vienna. There weren’t many blacks in the service academies, and there were even fewer women. Vienna was in the first class at West Point that admitted women. They couldn’t have picked a better candidate then Vienna Brookings. Vienna Brookings was the most amazing person he’d ever encountered. She had a commanding presence, confidence in spades, and a ready smile…or ready right cross when it was needed. She was amazing. She didn’t let any kind of perceived limitation (gender, pregnancy, marital status) restrict her. Vienna did the damn thing every day. She was a scholar of the rules not because she liked them but so she could find the loopholes. She

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was an expert at social mores not because she agreed with them but because she wanted to challenge them. With an MS in psychology from George Washington, a JD from Georgetown, an ear for languages, a knack for knowing when people were bullshitting her, and an IQ in the ninety-ninth percentile, her skills were highly coveted by the private sector and foreign governments. With coffee-colored skin, a salsa dancer’s gait and a Wild West mentality, her beauty was highly coveted by men everywhere. But just like she’d turned down the big money to blaze trails in the U.S. Army, she’d turned down richer, handsomer, smarter men for him. He’d like to say she accepted his proposal because he was so amazing, but the truth was that he’d never gotten a chance to propose. She’d simply informed him that he should clear his calendar because the day after graduation, she was marrying him. And she did. He hadn’t had his diploma in his hands for more than two seconds before she’d dragged him over to the nearest chapel and married him. He’d worn his dress whites, she’d worn her dress grays, and he couldn’t have been happier. Not a day went by that he forgot to be humbled and amazed by her love, her confidence in him, her belief in him, her respect of him. Not one day. Not one minute. Not one second.

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Vienna was everything to him…everything, and then she’d given him children, and she’d become more. He was there for the birth of their children, and each time he was frightened by the intensity of childbirth and humbled by the fact that she willingly bore it for him. Childbearing didn’t just affect her body, it affected her career…just like marriage. If she’d been single and childless, Vienna could’ve been Commander-in-Chief, or at the very least she’d have two more stars. She knew that, yet she sacrificed those things, and she did it without sacrificing herself. Career military, their jobs had taken them all over the globe, sometimes to different places, but they’d made it work with the help of a strong faith, good friends, and understanding superiors. And now one of their kids was in danger, and that wasn’t acceptable. He didn’t want to hear any kind of no, which was why he didn’t ask. Grabbing his wife’s hand, he marched out to his truck. No one stopped them. There wasn’t a lot anyone could say in response to ‘your daughter is missing.’ The deliverers of her and Asim’s devastation didn’t say anything more, but they hadn’t needed to. They drove home in silence. Cutting the engine, he walked around to Vienna’s side and opened the door.

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“I’ll get her back. No matter what I have to give or give up, I’ll get her back, Vienna,” he said, knowing he was about to do all manner of illegal things. While he didn’t care what kind of trouble it brought to him or what kind of hell he had to dish out, he wasn’t about to drag his wife into it. She needed to be home to receive their baby. She, of course, had different ideas. “We’ll get her back, Asim,” she said as she pulled her door shut again, refusing to budge out of the passenger seat. Regardless of what they’d gone through, it’d always been a ‘we’ effort with Vienna. Damn, he loved that woman. And he loved the children they made…more than anything, and that included his career. “Vienna, I might be going into hell to get her.” “And I got your back.” *** With the exception of having to sit through her children’s idea of music and the north’s version of iced tea, not much scared Vienna Lorcc. Her fearlessness wasn’t because she thought she was so big and bad, although she was pretty badass. Her fearlessness was due to having the love, friendship and respect of Asim

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Lorcc. In her line of work, it was par for the course to be in the company of strong, cunning, quick-thinking, wealthy and titled people…and then there was Asim Lorcc. He was everything dreams were made of…if you had the capacity to dream that big, that fearlessly, that relentlessly. He wasn’t a perfect man, but he was a good man, and it’d only taken her a hot second to realize that…and then another second to know she was going to marry him. She’d claimed him in front of everybody and dared anyone to try and take him from her. She wasn’t normally that bold when it came to men, but there was just something about Asim Lorcc. Actually, it wasn’t just something; it was a whole lot of something. Over time, she’d discovered so much about Asim, and just as she treasured the man, she treasured her discoveries. Asim was the strongest person she knew. His strength wasn’t derived from how well he could whip ass or how much weight he could lift. His strength was evident in the way he responded to being ignored, overlooked, and called racial epithets or “boy.” His strength was evident in the way he used his size and intelligence to lift people up. His strength was evident when he picked up someone else’s burdens and carried them along with his own, not out of obligation but out of solidarity.

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Asim was also the most beautiful person she’d ever encountered. His beauty wasn’t due to his large stature, his wide chest, tree-trunk like thighs or his espresso-colored skin. His beauty was derived from his integrity. There wasn’t any in-between with him when it came to doing right by people. To him the ends didn’t justify the means. If something wasn’t just, it wasn’t right. While his strength and beauty called to her, so did his directness. Asim Lorcc didn’t know how to pussyfoot around, how to hedge, or how to play games. She liked the way his nos meant no; his yeses meant yes…and how he could say either without ever saying a word. She loved this man. She still recalled their wedding vows. While she’d straight out told the preacher the only way she’d obey Asim was if he was her commanding officer (and being that he was Navy and she was Army, she was pretty sure that wasn’t going to happen), she’d thought she’d meant it when she said she’d love him till death do us part. The passing of time had proved to her that’d been a lie. She wouldn’t love him till death did them part; she’d love him even after then. While other men would be threatened by her boldness, her position, and her refusal to back down from something she believed in, Asim was her biggest

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fan club. Sometimes he was the only one in it, but that didn’t matter, because she discovered he was the only person she needed. He had her back…and her front and her sides and the area above and beneath her and a thousand-mile radius all around her. He didn’t care if she could take care of herself; he still took care of her. He’d always cared for her. She’d gotten chills hearing him vow to cherish her when they’d wed. Amis had proclaimed his intent to cherish her loudly and clearly…and not just with his mouth, but with his eyes. There’d been times when they’d been stationed in different states and countries, yet he’d always sent someone to watch over her and their children. When they were close enough to drive to see each other, instead of getting a place halfway between their bases, he’d insisted that their home be no more than an hour from where she worked. She treasured the way he treasured her and could only love him more in return. He wasn’t always able to be with her, but he was always there when she needed him. He was present at the births of their children; he’d held her hand when the doctor had told her she couldn’t have any more babies; he’d shouted himself hoarse when she’d walked across the stage to receive her MS and her JD. And he was present when they’d watched their babies walk across the stage to

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receive their diplomas. He’d hugged Socom so tight when he’d graduated from medical school and announced that he was going into the Navy. He’d held Desron even tighter when she’d announced that she was going to law school and wasn’t going into any of the armed forces. Asim loved and cherished his family. How could she not love him back? How could she do anything less than give everything she had to this man? How could she do anything but hate that which caused him pain? And she did—and right now, she was hating the ones who’d taken their baby girl. She hated thinking of what her baby was suffering, and she hated the look in Asim’s eyes when they’d been told Desron had been taken. She’d only seen her husband get that look in his eyes on two other occasions, and yeah, she didn’t want to talk about them because Interpol and a whole bunch of other acronyms were still investigating that…not that they’d find anything. They were thorough—real thorough, and they had the kind of connections that went beyond human. Vienna was already frightened for her child, and Asim had gone and lost his whole damn mind talking crazy telling her to stay home. There was no way in hell she was going to allow him to walk into that kind of danger without her at his back. Fuck that. She was

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going, and not even the entire U.S. Army and Navy combined were going to stop her. A lot of people, organizations, and entities owed her favors, and today she was prepared to call all of them in. And then she walked up the stairs to her house…and sank to her knees in gratitude. Beside the front door was a vase of flowers. It wasn’t the flowers that had her sinking to her knees; it was the arrangement. A medley of blue and purple flowers greeted her. That was the personal signature of the second-most badass man she knew: Ras. If Ras had sent flowers, that meant Ras was already on the hunt. And when Ras went on the hunt, people went missing. Grabbing her husband’s hand, she ran inside to change and call Baylor. She needed a jet…in the next twenty minutes, and one thing Baylor had plenty of was jets. She was going to get her baby, and someone was getting their ass handed to them for daring to take her. *** Alexei waited patiently while the missionaries called their loved ones. And while he waited, he couldn’t help but watch Desron…not because she was beautiful, but because it pissed Ras off. Being upir, he was normally able to pick up on the emotions of

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humans. Some were harder than others, and then there was Ras Vytautas. Ras was unreadable…except for now. Now he was pulsing red hot, and all of that energy was directed at Desron Lorcc. Desron herself contained a medley of emotions; even so, she made no attempt to hide her interest in Ras. Perhaps “interest” wasn’t the right word. Desron looked at Ras like Vienna Lorcc looked at Asim Lorcc, like Hludowig Ermenrich looked at Baylor Ermenrich and like Baylor looked at weapons. Ras Vytautas might be a warrior with few equals, but he’d never had a Lorcc female as an opponent. This was going to be so good. *** Having talked to damn near everyone in her family, Desron had dragged herself to the bedroom, glad to get a chance to bathe. If she hadn’t been so hungry and she’d been alone, she would’ve dropped to the floor and gone to sleep right there on the cool marble, but she wasn’t alone. Ras was there. Coming up behind her, he loaned her his strength. Peeling off her outerwear, he tossed it to the floor. “The doctor will be up in a few minutes,” he said without preamble. Ah, so Ras was bossy. Later, when she’d bathed and eaten, he’d learn that she too was bossy.

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Her two showers had felt good, but they paled in comparison to her bath. Oh, she loved that tub. As long as it was filled to the brim with soapy, hot water, she could spend the rest of the night in there, and if her stomach would’ve stood for it, she just might’ve. After dressing in the sweats that had been deposited on her bed, she left the sumptuous bedroom. As soon as she stepped out of the room, she felt Ras’s presence. “Hi Ras,” she said, even though she didn’t see him. “Everyone else calls me Priest,” he said from behind her. “Yeah, well, I’m not everyone else,” she said as she tucked her arm in his and made her way downstairs. Indulging in a bowl of hearty stew and a sandwich that should’ve come with a warning label, she bantered with the others. “Ras, sweetheart,” Head Bible-Toter called. “Yes, ma’am?” “You sure you don’t need me to sleep in front of your door tonight to protect your virtue, being that Desron’s over there eating you up with her eyes?” “That won’t be necessary, ma’am.” “Hmmph.”

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“You don’t have to worry about me having my wicked way with Ras tonight, being that I’m fresh out of condoms,” she said. “I’m going to bed before I end up having to wash your mouth out with soap, Desron,” Head Bible-Toter said. Saying her goodnights, she waited while a member of Ras’s team escorted the older woman to her room before scooting her chair so close to Ras’s she was practically in his lap. “Looks like you’re staking your claim on Ras,” the pretty doctor said. “So does this mean I cannot admire his handsomeness?” “Pretty much,” she said as she leaned further into Ras. “But what if I want other women to ogle me?” Ras spoke up. “Then you obviously don’t care about their safety. In case you hadn’t heard, Lorcc women don’t share our males,” a familiar voice rang out. Looking up and spotting her momma, she ran across the room.

Chapter Five Despite the facts she was twenty-five years old, was two months away from receiving her JD and MDiv degrees, had her own apartment and changed the oil in her truck herself, Desron didn’t even attempt to pretend she wasn’t thrilled to see her parents. “Mommy! Daddy!” she screamed as she ran to them. “BABY!!!” her father’s deep voice boomed off the stone walls of the castle. *** Even though he felt like an intruder, Ras was unable to look away from the tender scene. The Rear Admiral and Major General checked Desron over with loving hands, holding her and taking turns kissing her cheeks and forehead. After a few frantic moments, the Admiral gathered both his wife and daughter in his arms and simply held them close. From the expression on his face, he wasn’t going to be letting go anytime soon. “Baby...oh, baby...you had me so worried,” he whispered into his daughter’s hair. Desron snuggled deeper into her father’s embrace. That one small gesture told him more than

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her words ever would. She was deeply affected by her wilderness experience. “Thank you for coming, and thank you for sending Ras,” she said. Ras couldn’t help but be humbled by Desron’s words, just as he couldn’t help but be moved by her courage. He watched as the Major General pulled back and smoothed the hair away from her face. “You’re tired, baby,” Vienna whispered to her daughter. “Yes, but I wanted to wait up until you got here,” she said. As soon as the admission fell from her mouth, her parents ordered her to bed. *** Deciding that he was no longer needed, Ras started towards the nearest exit. He’d catch up with the Rear Admiral and the Major General at a later, less emotional date. He’d barely taken three steps when a hand on his arm stopped him in his tracks. Turning, he found Vienna smiling at him. Seeing her arch her eyebrow, he inched forward and allowed himself to be embraced in a crushing hug. “I don’t know why you keep that pretty hair covered up with hats,” she said.

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Smiling at her usual way of greeting him, he responded. “Because the Rear Admiral caught you admiring it and gave me a warning to keep my hat on my head if I wanted to keep my head on my neck.” “You know he’s all talk,” she said. “Not when it comes to you, Major General.” “Well, I am an intelligent, beautiful, remarkable woman, so I can understand that.” Stopping her flow of words, she held onto his hands as she gathered herself. “Thank you, Ras. Thank you so much,” Vienna said hoarsely, her voice heavy with emotion. “You never have to thank me,” he said. *** Did Ras just say that crazy mess? Something was obviously wrong with the males in her circle. “You’re not too big to get a spanking, so just hush that crazy talk,” she said. He looked at her all crazy, but he didn’t say anything else, which was good for him. Since he was being so amenable, she did something she’d been wanting to do for years: snatched that hat off of his head. Throwing it across the room, she looked up into those Persian indigo eyes and let him see the love she had for him. In return, she was able to see the

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emotion in his eyes. She loved this boy like her own. She snatched him to her again, indebted to him for what he’d done. “I know you’re not leaving, especially when I need you to do one more favor for me,” she said. One of Ras’s eyebrows lifted, but he didn’t raise an objection. Good boy. “Asim and I are needed to ensure that no one involved escapes justice…and not the court kind. Also the families of the other missionaries are arriving tonight, so we need to coordinate them. After recent events, Asim’s nervous about leaving Desron without protection.” “She’s in the heavily fortified primary palace on the estate of the ruling family,” he argued. Ah, so cute. Why was he arguing? Oh yes, because he was male. “Yes, but they have their own wives to see to, and after that there’s the business of ruling the country. Plus, Desron’s been through a lot, and I know she’ll be safe with you. I know you’ve got things to get to, but if you could do this one favor for me. Please, stay with my daughter tonight and keep her safe.” ***

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“You ought to stop smiling at the prospect of some boy in our baby girl’s bed.” “I would if it was someone other than Ras, who, by the way, hasn’t been a boy in a long time.” “I don’t like the thought of a boy in my daughter’s bed,” he said, completely ignoring her words about Ras not being a boy. “You like the thought of her kidnapped and sold into…” she started. “Okay, stop. You’ve made your point. I was so scared, Vienna.” “So was I, and now that I know Desron’s safe, I’m mad. And being that Ras’s team is already in attendance and Alexei has been kind enough to loan us part of his army, I’m going to get even-er. We got some motherfuckers to hunt down.” “You know how hot you get me when you talk all righteous?” “Yep.” She winked. “Now let’s go.” *** Desron didn’t want to close her eyes. Though it wasn’t rational, she was scared she’d wake up and be back in the forest. Despite her fears, she did close her eyes…and woke up two minutes and forty-five seconds later…with someone in her room.

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“Momma?” she called. “No, it’s Priest,” Ras said as he approached the bed. “What are you doing here?” she asked, watching as he stripped off his shirt and shook out his hair. Despite being sleepy, she couldn’t help but emit a couple of “oohs” over the sight of him. He was beautiful. “Being that you’ve spent all night tempting me, I thought it best to allow you to see I’m a lot more man than you’re accustomed to.” “You are so cute and so mine, so while I don’t mind seeing all that skin, I’m going to need you to keep my stuff covered outside of the bedroom.” “And if I don’t?” “Why, I’ll have to spank you, and considering what a tight ass you have, I can’t help but hope that you do.” “I don’t believe I’ve ever had a woman come on so strong to me.” “Then you’ve only met lesbians, happily married women, or nuns, because you’re six feet seven and one quarter inches of absolute hotness,” she said. “Thank you,” he said as he slid into bed with her and pulled her into his arms. Though she knew what he was thanking her for, she needed to thank him for what he’d done.

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“Thank you, Ras. I was fearful out there. I don’t like that feeling.” “You’re not supposed to like it.” “I don’t know how y’all do it every day,” she admitted. “One second at a time.” “Thank you for doing it, and after you become Mr. Desron Lorcc, you’re going to have to find something else to do when you’re not barefoot and pregnant.” She would’ve said more, but then Ras touched her. *** Ras knew that the Major General was playing him, but there was nothing he could do to stop it, and even if there was, it wasn’t like she’d allow such a thing. The Major General was accustomed to having her way regardless of who her opponent was—not that he was her opponent. She was one of the few people he had a soft spot for. He’d do anything for her…and she knew it. If he’d needed proof of her knowing it, all he had to do to find it was look in her eyes. Her eyes sparkled with that ‘ha ha motherfucker, I win’ look she got when walking off the battlefield with a victory firmly secured. Hell, she didn’t walk off after a

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victory; she strutted off and sometimes executed a little shimmy. Most of the time her battlefield was the halls of Congress, the offices of bigwigs, or the maze of the Pentagon, but she stormed those places like they were the beaches of Normandy. And while she’d stormed many an office, there were the handful of times she’d stormed actual battlefields. Officially, females didn’t fight, and officially, she didn’t…she fucking kicked straight ass and took no prisoners while doing so. You threw a rock at the Major General, and she threw hell back at you—and she didn’t stop throwing until there wasn’t anything left to throw at. There were plenty of males with more brass than her, but not so many who had bigger balls than her. She didn’t just rest on her many degrees and past accomplishments —she forged new paths, not afraid to mix it up. While she knew the rules, she also knew the loopholes, and she wasn’t afraid to use them. No one fought the enemy the way the Major General did. She didn’t leave a soldier behind…no matter what, no matter who said, no matter the ramifications. That wasn’t her style, and that was why soldiers would follow her into any kind of fucked up. She never sent people places she wasn’t willing to go to herself, just as she never led people places she wasn’t confident she could lead them out of. He knew because she’d sent

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the order to go in and get his team, and the Rear Admiral had been the one to fetch him…and she’d been right there in the thick of gunfire, knee-deep in bodies and bullshit, but she’d stood her ground and didn’t leave until she’d had all of them. Her actions, while honorable, had cost the Rear Admiral his promotion to Vice Admiral and cost the Major General a star and all future promotions, but neither one of them had given a flying fuck. She’d been busted down from Lieutenant General, but she wore her discipline with so much pride that the higher-ups were shamed every time they spoke her name…and the grunts, they simply loved her. Truth be told, he loved her too…but not too much, because the Rear Admiral was crazy about that woman. And he was crazy about their daughter. Desron Lorcc was everything parents could hope for. She was smart (how could she be anything else with parents like hers?). She was honorable (like her parents would give her any other choice). She was so many things…and she was the only woman who’d ever moved him. While he’d been the recipient of many a blatant come-on, he’d never had a woman outright claim him and say it with such conviction. She didn’t hint at it; she stated it in much the same way one would say ‘in liquid form, water is wet.’ While her proclamations had amused his teammates and left

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them baffled, they’d moved him…and left him baffled. What did he have that she needed? She routinely hobknobbed with the jet-set crowd; she was two months away from graduating with not one, but two, big time degrees from the prestigious Vanderbilt University; she had the kind of hips and ass that made men look two or three times; and she had the kind of future that people dreamed of. And yet, she’d decided that he was hers…and her momma was backing her up. He’d told himself she was just glad to be rescued, but even as he thought it, he knew it was a damn lie. She might’ve thought she was at the end of her endurance, but he’d never seen anyone fight harder. While she might have faltered, he knew she wouldn’t have quit. It just wasn’t in her. He’d told himself that touching her would be dishonorable. Her parents trusted him. She was their baby girl—their only daughter. But his body reminded him that she was all woman. His mind reminded him that she was a helluva woman. His heart screamed at him that she was his woman. Taking his time with his shower, he mulled over the enigma that was Desron Lorcc. Should he or shouldn’t he? And then his heart said her name: Desron Lorcc…Vytautas and the decision was made. Drying himself and his hair, he slipped into some sweats and made the walk next door. Hearing the

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trace of fear in her voice, he knew he’d made the right decision to come. Hurrying his steps and stripping off his shirt, he slid into bed with her and simply held her close to his heart. It was the most erotic thing he’d ever indulged in and the best sleep he’d ever had, which was why he did the exact same thing the next night and the night after. Lying in a luxurious bed with Desron in his arms was a treat, and he savored every moment. *** Though she hadn’t consummated their relationship, she’d enjoyed spending the last three nights sleeping in Ras’s arms. When she’d admitted as much to her momma, her momma had simply smiled. “You’ve only been sleeping?” “Momma,” she said. “I just met him.” Smiling, her momma rubbed her back. “Ras is a good man.” In hindsight, she probably shouldn’t have told her momma that she hadn’t freaked Ras, because at dinner that night her momma made a point, and in the process left half the dining room grunting and the other half laughing. Desron was among the ones in the grunting camp.

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In between passing the salt, her momma announced, “Alexei, how good is your soundproofing? Because Desron’s concerned that if she sexes up Ras like she wants to, his roars will wake everyone in the castle.” “Momma,” she’d exclaimed, and of course, she’d simply ignored her. If her daddy hadn’t already been there, she would’ve so told on her momma to him. But he was there, glaring a hole into Ras, who was busy assuring him that he hadn’t touched her. That’d been the last straw for her momma. “First off, Ras, my baby is smoking hot so unless your stuff’s not working, there really shouldn’t be any reason why you haven’t touched her.” Turning to her, her momma continued. “I want Ras as a son-in-law. Now for some reason I don’t think Socom’s going to be willing to sleep with him, so that leaves you, Desron. I expect to hear some screaming in that room tonight. Pass the butter, Amis.” Her daddy passed her momma the butter. Ras choked on his water. Socom just got up and left the room. Deciding there wasn’t any use in being put out with her momma, being that her momma couldn’t give two fucks if she was, she turned to her and asked.

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“Momma, since you spend every night screaming out Daddy’s and God’s names, how are you going to hear anything?” “My throat might be a little sore from telling your father, ‘faster, harder, more,’ but ain’t nothing wrong with my hearing. Hurry up with those peas, baby. I need to get my eat on because I’ve got business with your daddy tonight.” “From what all of the castle and half of Kovorkiistan heard, you already had business with daddy this morning, and again right before you came down to dinner,” she said. “Damn straight.” Her daddy smiled, all proud. It was a good thing the royal family had healthy senses of humor. Then again, Alexei and Gavriil were too busy feeling their mates up under the table to care what was going on on their end. Turning to Ras, she’d winked at him and whispered in his ear. “Tonight will be the first night you scream out my name.” And it would’ve been. She’d gone up to her room and planned her siege. Being that the crown princess was the shiznit, her room was well-stocked with any and every thing she might need. After enjoying a long soak, she spritzed on perfume and donned some sheer, burgundy panties before nabbing one of Ras’s t-shirts and pulling it over her head.

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Dressed, she opened her door and walked next door to Ras’s room. Not even bothering to knock, she opened the door and caught a picture of Ras’s hot, naked self. “Damn,” was all she could say…before she got it together and instructed him to turn around. Raising one brow, he did just that. His loose hair brushed the top of the most perfect ass she’d ever glimpsed, and being a connoisseur of football, she’d seen some good asses. Walking up to him, she tunneled her hands through his decadent hair, looked into his indigo eyes. “Mine,” she said right before she kissed them both breathless. “Say it with me,” she demanded as she rubbed herself against him. “Mine,” she reiterated as she raked her nails over his nipples and brought them both to the brink. “Yours,” he said as he lifted her in his arms, crushed her to him, took over the kiss and pushed them both over. She’d never come so hard in her life. She was so glad the wall was behind her and Ras was in front of her, because sure as shit couldn’t hold herself up. Perhaps if she’d been thinking of something other than the fastest way to impale herself on Ras’s cock she would’ve heard the footsteps, and the chorus of clearing throats. Perhaps, maybe, possibly, but she doubted it, because a naked Ras was a pregnancy just waiting to happen. A strange noise made her open

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her eyes. Wrapping her legs tighter around Ras, she leaned over and looked into the eyes of her momma, her daddy, and the Head of State, who, from the looks of things, had been all up in his wife and was about a half step to the left to being all up in her again. No, they weren’t making out with each other like a couple of horny teenagers. And no, her momma wasn’t leering at Ras’s butt. “Momma, are you looking at my man’s butt?” “Yep,” she said, all unrepentant. “Daddy, are you going to do something about that?” “Yep, I’m going to call Ras out just as soon as the king speaks.” “Why is the king here?” she asked. “To marry you and Ras,” he said. Turning to the king, her daddy politely cleared his throat. Dragging his mouth off of his wife’s throat, the king turned to them and spoke. “You’re married,” and without so much as a by your leave, he quit the room. “Um, I didn’t say anything,” she said. “Don’t need to, baby. The king has the power to marry couples. The marriage is legally binding in Kovorkiistan, so feel free to freak Ras all you want. Of course, when we get back home y’all are getting married again. And since we’ll be home next week, I’d get together a list of people you want to attend.”

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Well, damn. She might’ve been mad at everyone’s interference if she hadn’t already planned on marrying Ras. But being that she’d already made up her mind, she shrugged and pulled Ras back down to her. Noting the intense look in his eyes, she asked, “Are you upset?” “No,” he rasped. “So you’re good with this?” “Yes.” “Then kiss the bride and get on your back. I need to get you pregnant,” she commanded. *** For all intents and purposes, for better or worse, Desron was now his wife…at least in Kovorkiistan. As soon as he touched foot stateside, he was going to make sure that her being Mrs. Him was a permanent condition. He wasn’t going to let her go. Being that her father had practically dragged the king from his bed and convinced him to join him and Desron in marriage, Ras was going to take full advantage of what was now his honeymoon night. Being caught in a compromising position with a generals’ daughter wasn’t the smartest move, but luckily the generals in question knew he was a decent man despite having zero personality. While other men

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might be annoyed at being forced into marriage, he was honored and humbled by their acceptance of him. Knowing the Rear Admiral and the Major General, he knew that forcing them to marry was their way of giving their blessing. Despite Desron all but hiring a town crier to shout her dibs, if he hadn’t passed muster, they would’ve brought a coroner to his room to pronounce him dead instead of the king to say the words to pronounce him married. It also helped that the Major General had pursued the Rear Admiral in much the same fashion—relentlessly. He was also humbled by Desron’s confidence and faith. She was so confident that he was a good man. She had faith in him to be a worthy mate. Sometimes he was hardly a man, but despite being all kinds of bastards, he promised to never become the type of man he hunted and brought to justice. It’d been enough for him before, but now that he’d been gifted with Desron, he vowed to be more because she deserved it. Despite being so close that their bodies were practically melded together, he held her tighter, needing to feel the thumps of her heart and the slight tremors that coursed through her. In truth, he needed to just feel. Hefting her in one arm, he yanked her shirt over her head, pleased that she’d chosen to wear something that belonged to him.

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Walking her to their bed, he gently laid her down. Before he could pull back, she dragged him to her by his hair and ravished his mouth. Caught up in her passion, he let her have his way with his mouth even as he poured all of himself into that kiss…and unlike any other woman he’d encountered, Desron demanded more. “Give me everything, Ras,” she whispered as she massaged his scalp with her nails, his chest with her breasts, and his ego with her fervor. She didn’t just want his cock, she wanted all of him, and it turned him on so damn good. He’d always been the chaser in the pursuit, the aggressor in lovemaking, the maestro in the symphony of moans, mewls and screams of pleasure. Ah, but he’d never played tag with Desron or had her as his orchestra. “Desron,” he rasped her name as he pulled back and drank in her beauty. “Ras,” she responded as she opened herself to his perusal. “So beautiful,” he said as he bent and latched onto one of her full breasts. “Thank you,” she answered even as she yanked his head to her other breast. “Yes,” she purred as she arched up into his mouth. “Yessssss,” she screamed as he reached between them and stroked her sex.

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She wasn’t content to let him set the pace—she rocked her hips back and forth and fucked his fingers. Using his shoulders as her anchor, she pulled him into her song. A slow buildup to her pleasure wasn’t her style; she went straight in for the crescendo. Pushing at his chest, she attempted to push him onto his back and take the dominant position. As much as he’d give her, he couldn’t give her the dominant position. While he would do all within his power to ensure her happiness, and while he had the utmost respect for her intellect and agency, he was the man in this relationship. As such, it was his job to ensure her safety; his privilege to bring her to pleasure. Rolling to his side, he pulled her with him and smacked her ass. Just as he thought, a moan spilled from her lips and her eyes flashed fire. Searing him with a look that was full of challenge, she bit her full bottom lip and threw out a demand. “Again, but harder.” He could do nothing less than oblige. Not content to feel anything separating them, he deftly removed her pitiful excuse for panties. While he could’ve ripped them off, he had every intention of keeping this pair. Cupping her ass, he kneaded the globes before delivering a secession of quick but hard smacks. Her moans spurred him on. Flipping her onto her back, he spread her muscular thighs. Not

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giving her a chance to protest, he thrust two fingers inside of her silky sheath. Desron threw her head back and climaxed all over his hand. He was honored to witness her release. When she sung out his name at the height of it, it was all he could do not to jump up and thump his own chest. He didn’t jump up, however. Instead, he went lower. Bending his head, he lapped up the rest of her orgasm, relishing every drop that touched his tongue. “Ras,” she gasped. “Ras,” she sighed. “Ras,” she moaned. “Ras,” she screamed. Lapping up the rest of her nectar, he kissed his way up. Pausing at her stomach, he rested his head there briefly and prayed over the first home their children would know. “Ras,” she sang again. Loving the way his name sounded on her lips, he slowly made his way up, stopping to suckle at her breasts briefly before reaching her mouth in time to catch his name in his mouth. “Mine, Desron,” he answered. “Mine,” he reiterated. “Yes,” she breathed. Of course that was the only answer he’d accept…the only answer he’d recognize. “Damn right,” he said matter-of-factly. Like ‘God is good,’ it was an indisputable fact.

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“You’re mine too,” she said the same way. He didn’t need to see the passion shining in his eyes to know that she meant each word. “Always,” he said as he settled her thigh on his shoulder and joined them. *** The feel of Ras’s body pressed against hers turned her on in so many ways. His strength sheltered her, his goodness surrounded her, and above all that, his masculinity called to her. Her femininity responded to his call. Stretching out before him, she arched her back, tempting him to look at her, trusting him with her nakedness. It wasn’t just her body she was baring; it was also her soul. ‘Look at me, Ras,’ her eyes invited. ‘Look at me and want me,’ her sex enticed. ‘Look at me and need me,’ her heart said. ‘Look at me and love me despite my imperfections,’ her soul pleaded. And he looked at her, and his indigo eyes glowed their pleasure. His hands caressed her like she was a treasure. His body responded to her like it was seeking its other half. Without having to think about it, she knew she was loved. Without having to seek counsel, she knew she was treasured. Sure that Ras would never hurt her or demean her and that he was

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man enough not to be threatened by her, she challenged him. Pushing at his chest, she attempted to take the dominant position not because she wanted it, but simply to see what he’d do. All she got for her efforts was the most delicious spanking and stroking she’d ever experienced. Ras touched her so good, looked at her so lovingly, and cherished her so honestly. When he dipped his head and drank from her, all she could do was lay back and feel and call out his name. Then when he kissed his way back up her body and paused at her stomach, she couldn’t fail to be humbled. By the time he took her lips, she was more than ready to be claimed by him. When he thrust into her body, she gave herself over to the pleasure just like she’d given herself over to his keeping. This good man loved her…and she loved him back. Lifting her hips, she met each of his thrusts. Digging her nails into his tight ass, she staked her claim on his body. Wrapping her legs around him, she held him to her. Seeking his lips, she breathed forevers into his mouth and treasured the ‘I love you’s’ he conveyed with his body. And then he voiced it. “I love you, Desron,” he said in a clear, loud voice. “I love you, Ras,” she said back just as clear, loud and certain. And then she couldn’t think because she

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was too busy feeling. Moments later, she plummeted over the edge and met her destiny head on.

Chapter Six She didn’t march down the aisle to the Wedding March. Nope, she marched down the aisle to her favorite superhero’s theme song. And why wouldn’t she? She had everything including the boots, the jewelry and the badass gear. That was why she’d insisted on that song. It was a cool song and she deserved to shimmy down the aisle to it…especially when she had Ras waiting for her at the end. Go her! Go her! And go her daddy for being bold enough to harass the king into marrying her and Ras. And go her mommy for throwing together the American ceremony. Her family was the best. Her daddy helped her with her wedding outfit. Aunt Amani took care of all the legal things. Aunt Baylor flew all of her classmates to DC in her jet. Her big brother hid her Ducati from Ras. And her maternal grandfather, who just happened to be a conductor, and her maternal grandmother, who was like first chair everything in the orchestra, played the music. Her paternal grandmother took care of the cake, and her paternal grandfather made sure she was properly spoiled. She was properly spoiled, and she was allowed. And she was happy. Her time in the wilderness had brought her Ras and taught her the value of life, the

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power of faith, and the sanctity of love. Turning, she looked at her family and mouthed that she loved them, and they mouthed it right back. Then she hip-checked Ras and pulled his hair. Of course the preacher cleared her throat…loudly. Desron had expected that, just like she’d expected Ras’s quick slap on her ass. But then the preacher winked. She hadn’t expected that…at least not from Head Bible-Toter. Rev. Head Bible-Toter wasn’t so bad. If she and Ras were blessed with children, she hoped Head Bible-Toter would baptize them. That woman swung a mean Bible and sang some awesome Scripture…but she wouldn’t be going on anymore mission trips with her.

Epilogue Four women sat at a table, looking at each other in disbelief. “I blame you all for this,” Vienna said, finally breaking the silence. “Don’t look at me,” Baylor said, brushing an imaginary piece of lint off of her cowboy boots. “Don’t look at me either,” Amani said, looking as dapper as ever in her tailored suit. “How are you blaming me?”Svajoné said. “I just met her three days ago.” Looking over the newest member of their group, Vienna shook her head. “It’s your fault for making such a good-looking son and raising him to be so badass. Desron’s always liked edgy, handsome men.” “This is true, but how exactly does this make me responsible for Desron’s outfit?” Looking over at her one and only daughter, she sighed. There was nothing at all wrong with the red, strapless chiffon gown with the gold beading decorating the ruched bodice and asymmetrical hem— even though it showed too much thigh according to her daddy. Hell, if she had thighs like that, every skirt she had would be a mini. Okay, she did have thighs like that, but Asim was crazy so she kept them covered everywhere except the bedroom. Nope, there wasn’t

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anything wrong with her baby’s dress, despite the gold trip decorating the top. There wasn’t even anything wrong with the two-inch, knee-length red boots she wore with the dress. What was wrong was Desron’s accessories. Desron wore two-inch gold cuffs on her wrists, a gold headband that held back her microbraids, and the cherry on top was the “magic lasso” attached to her waist that her daddy had painstakingly spray-painted gold. “I had to put my foot down at the star-decorated blue panties,” she said. Laughing, Baylor chimed in. “I like her boots though.” “And when has a Texan ever seen a pair of boots they didn’t like?” she asked. “Probably the last time you southerners found a food you wouldn’t consider frying,” Svajoné said even as she bit into her fried Oreos. Pausing from her consumption of her fried candy bar, Amani oohed before fist-knocking Svajoné. “I wonder how Ras got out of wearing the cape Desron picked up for him?” “I’m betting he didn’t get out of it…he just got out of wearing it in public,” she said. “I see you passed your fast ways onto your daughter,” Baylor said.

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“If your baby is going to corrupt my son, I hope it results in some babies,” Svajoné said. “You’re not sick to your stomach thinking of your son having a sex life?” Baylor asked. “Please, my son is hot—which he got from me, so I expect women to flock to him.” “Well, if they saw that wedding cake and the message Desron had the baker put on it, they’d better stop flocking,” Amani said. At the mention of the cake, Vienna simply shook her head. The massive, multi-tiered cake was the stuff dreams were made of. A pure work of art, it had cascades of indigo-colored frosting flowers and intricate designs made with butter cream frosting. Vienna had dubbed it the ‘ooh cake’ because everyone was drawn to it. It wasn’t every day you got to see a cake that big up close and personal…and it wasn’t every day you saw a wedding topper that featured a mixed-race couple with the groom holding the bride so passionately and the bride holding an Uzi. And then there was the flag planted beside her that read: ‘Ras is mine, bitches.’ She needed to have a word or ten with her mother-in-law, but of course her own mother was too busy fawning over her excellent taste. She sensed a headache coming on, but before she could go in search of some aspirin, she felt her

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husband embrace her from behind. Looking over at the cake, he chuckled. “Desron gets that from you.” He laughed. She was about to get him told and good, but before the first word could fall from her lips, he leaned down and kissed a trail from her temple to the space between her shoulder and neck…and then he kissed his way back up. Asim’s erotic kisses and the feel of his erection in her back had her forgetting all about her headache. Pressing back into him, she couldn’t hold back her moan…nor did she want to. After all, Desron did get it from her. ***J and J***

Meet the Players Shara Azod Shara is the first one to admit she is a little off. Her favorite movies are Steel Magnolias and Apocalypse Now, with a little Godfather and Animal House thrown in for fun. When not planning to take over the world, or re-fighting the world’s greatest battles in her mind, she can usually be found having deep and meaningful conversations with her kids (11 & 8) about the meaning of life or trying to talk her husband into buying her weapons—just in case of Armageddon.

www.sharaazod.com

Dréa and Laura Serving it up Texas-style, Laura Guevara and Dréa Riley are two sassy, sexy and sinfully hot ladies who have come together to bring their literary talents to the table of hot romance literature. What follows is a full-course meal of alpha males, strong, intelligent females, and mouthwatering romance of the sensual ilk. Laura is gonna bring the country-flavored, southof-the-border spiciness and combine it with Dréa’s chocolateinspired, vanilla-coated sweet goodies for some appetizing morsels of stories. They live far apart in two separate Texas towns, and for their families, the state of Texas and the rest of the free world, this could be a good thing. No telling what kind of mayhem Laura’s family and Dréa’s cowboy would have to rescue them from on a daily basis if they resided any closer to one another. Poor Dee Ooh Gee (promise that’s his name) would never get to see his “momma” Dréa because she’d be off riding with Laura in her pick-up truck, setting it off whilst in search of a tall glass of

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cowboy alpha male for Laura. Poor little dog would have even more attitude than he has now! When not regaling the MF Posse with their stories of chaos and mischief, these two ladies spend their free time reading and composing smoking-hot literature and taking care of their families. Each brings their own skill sets and interests to their individual and partnered stories. Dréa likes to cook, Laura is an adventurer at heart, and you may gain further insight into these two ladies through their stories. So pull up your chair, grab your silverware, tuck your napkins (cause ya’ definitely gonna be drooling) and prepare to dine on the feast of saucy, spicy, sweet literary servings of these warm and funny writers. Hint: Wear loose clothing!

Drea: [email protected] Laura: [email protected] Both: [email protected]

Reana Malori Reana Malori is a pseudonym for a chick with dreams of world domination. However, if that’s not possible, I’m willing to settle for being one of the best interracial romance erotica writers on the market (along with some of my favorite authors who already know who they are). While I’m new to the art of writing, I’ve been reading romance novels since the age of fourteen and know what appeals to me as reader. I want to provide that same experience for people who read my work. I’m a former Marine and served for eight years (So, yes, that means I’m a deadly force to be reckoned with!), having been stationed at Parris Island, SC; Camp Delmar, CA; Cherry Point, NC; and Arlington, VA. Strong military men will always be a favorite topic of mine, so expect future stories revolving around

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them. I’m a fan of Highlanders, Alpha males, and strong women who love with everything they have. I currently live in Northern Virginia and my day job is quite serious, so I won’t bore you with the details. I hope to write books that will help folks escape for bit and relax. I’m sure there will be plenty more stories, and I think you’ll like what you get from me. Please send me an email at [email protected]. I’d love to hear from you! Web site: www.reanamalori.webs.com Blog: www.reanamalori.blogspot.com Yahoo Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/reana_malori/

Jeanie Johnson Johnson and Jayha Leigh Besides being intelligent divas who pen kickass prose, Jeanie (the shagalicious wordslinger) and her momma, Jayha (the ninja master of prose), are dessert-eating, take-no-shit, tell-itlike-they-feel instead of tell-it-like-people-want-to-hear-it women. They are women who have brains and aren’t afraid to use them; feelings and aren’t afraid to express them; and, middle fingers which they’ll happily use to salute out of line peeps. Independently, both are forces of nature that leave you begging for mercy or begging for more. A kickass tag team duo bound together by the pen, they plan on ruling the world side-by-side. Jeanie will be ruling in her favorite hoodie and her Chuck Taylors; Jayha will be wearing her Crocs, a blue t-shirt along with her halo. Of course, all ruling will be done swiftly as Jeanie is always out getting into sh*t and Jayha is busy indulging in her torrid affair with ESPN. Praises, compliments, adulation and the like for J and J can be left at: [email protected]