Deemed “trailer trash” by humans and the daughter of the most disgraceful family of witches and warlocks since the Puritan age, Samantha is used to fighting her own battles. When her younger sister is taken to the Underworld, Sam doesn't hesitate to rescue her.
To survive the harsh land, she makes a deal with a demon — the most dangerous of creatures in the realm.
Even with those lustrous horns, Geo is as hot as the hell she's stuck in. Fighting nasty beasts in a supernatural version of the gladiator games is easy compared to falling in love with a man who has no future to offer.
|Excerpt 1 |
Finally, the piece she’d been fiddling with on the tape player clicked into place. She pressed play and turned up the volume. When music flowed from the small but effective speakers, she gave Geo an I-told-you-so look.
His wide eyes told her he’d probably never heard music come from a machine before. She recognized the song. I Put a Spell on You by Creedence Clearwater Revival. Somebody in the Underworld liked 70’s rock. Go figure.
“I love this song.” She placed the tape player on the bed and stood up, feeling a little reckless, a little free. Must be the wine.
The lead singer’s throaty voice and the heavy beat fit the dim room. The song was gritty and raw just like the Underworld. She looked at Geo, laid back in the chair all big and bad, strong and silent. He’d never looked so sexy.
Definitely the wine.
“Dance with me,” she commanded.
His brows lifted.
“Come on.” She grabbed his hand and tugged.
With a smirk, he let her pull him to his feet.
“Just put your hands here and here.” She guided his hands to her hip and shoulder but he yanked out of her grip.
“I know how to dance, woman,” he growled. Then he plopped both hands on her low back, just above her backside, and yanked her up against his body.
|Excerpt 2 |
A growl tore through the cabin, startling her. She spun toward the noise so fast she fell on her ass. A giant…dog would be an understatement, flew out of the shadowy corner and landed on thick paws in front of her. Pitch black in color, covered in bulging muscle, it bared its oversized teeth and snarled at her. Holy mutant flea bag!
She crab-walked backward a few feet, never taking her eyes off the beast, until she felt her sword under her hand. “Nice doggie,” she whispered, dragging the sword closer.
She jumped to a crouch, the sword unsheathed and at the ready. The thing’s eyes glowed red as it stared at her weapon. “Nice possessed doggie.”
The fur on its back rose up and its chest rumbled menacingly. Heart pounding, she kept her sword steady in her hands though inside she was shaking. “Okay Kujo, I’m all for animal rights – I support PETA and all that – but if you attack me, I’ll stick you with this nice sharp sword.”
In answer, the oversized mutt growled.
“Erebus.” Geo’s voice filled the cabin. She hadn’t even heard him come in. “Down, boy. She’s a friend.”
Great. The demon had the equivalent of a pet mastiff on steroids and already the thing didn’t like her.
Apparently Erebus wasn’t the obedient type. He growled again, and a line of drool dripped from his mouth. Ew. “Not very well trained, is he?” she said to Geo, gaze still locked on the dog.
“He’s not a pet. Put your sword down.”
“What? No way.” In the middle of a showdown with a dog-beast that looked like it wanted to gnaw on her bones – the sword was going nowhere. “One of us is making it out of this alive. I’d prefer it be me.”
“Samantha.” She eyed Geo from her peripheral vision. “Put down the sword. Trust me.”
|Excerpt 3 |
She struggled beneath him, her cheeks flushed and chest heaving. Several necklaces – silver chains with various charms and a piece of leather tied around a feather – drew his gaze to her pale, slender neck. A neck he could sink his teeth into. He liked the look of her underneath him far too much. Two hundred years without a woman…why couldn’t Ares just have had him flogged?
“Let me up,” she yelled. “You’re squishing me.”
Reluctantly, he did. “You’d be more than squished had I been someone else. Your stance is too narrow. That’s why you fell over so easily.”
She scowled at him and straightened her clothing. “Don’t tell me how to fight.”
“Then stay behind me and I’ll do it for you.”
Gods, she was a saucy thing. Repressing a smile, he picked her sword up off the ground. “Spitfire and ambition will only get you so far, Samantha.” He held out her sword. “Knowledge and patience are the foundation for success.”
“My sister doesn’t have time for me to be patient.” She started to put the sword back into its sheath.
“No.” He grabbed her wrist and, under her icy glare, he positioned her sword arm out in front of her. “Widen your stance.”
She tossed him a dirty look but did as he said.
He walked a circle around her. “Good. Now scan.”
She looked left then right. “Clear.” She took a step forward but he grabbed the back of her shirt and tugged her against his chest.
“Never forget the sky,” he rasped against her ear.
Her breath quickened and he could hear her heart pound wildly. She looked up then whispered, “Clear.”
“Good. I can’t use a dead witch so try to keep yourself alive, yes?”
“I suppose I can try,” she answered drily.
Please note: Live Twitter Party TODAY at 11am EST. Use hash tag #destinybewitched
If you'd like to purchase the first three books, click below. WARNING: This is NOT a Young Adult series.
I began my writing journey while I was stranded at the airport waiting for my delayed flight. I browsed the Border’s kiosk and grew frustrated that I couldn’t find the “it factor” — the perfect combination of alpha male-ness, ass-kickery, strong females, magic, and sex.
So I spent the next four hours on an airplane writing my first book on scraps of paper and an airsick bag (which thankfully I didn't need to use).
Now I spend too much time in my head, plotting evil villains and the hot men (and women) who ruthlessly kill them. I think far too much about fae politics, dragon power games, and how fast werewolves can change forms. But writing my paranormal romance series has given me a productive place to express those dark places in my mind.
I live in New England with my husband and two kids. Though I will go to my grave denying it, my husband insists I would be thrilled if he suddenly sprouted fangs.