Equinox - ISBN #1-84360-444-2
Handle With Care By Annie Windsor
The women of Earth have a major problem: a genetic virus has all but eliminated men.
Tia Belmont spends late nights in her laboratory combing satellite grids for signs of intelligent response. As Eostre approaches, Earth’s women practice the ways of the ancient Goddess, adding magic to the hard science of saving their world. But Tia Belmont doesn’t believe in magic. Not until an artifact from her foremothers, an ancient ceremonial dagger, finds its way to her desk drawer. And not until that dagger helps Brok of Kaerad, First Priest of the People, answer SEARCH’s long-ranging signal…in person.
Night of Fire By Vonna Harper
The virgin known as Maia steps from her time into the present to find Taurus, the man destined to protect her people from cruel invaders. But although he’s blown away by the uninhibited young woman who throws herself at him during Beltane, Taron is very much a man of today with a business to save. A little roll in the hay is as far as it goes–or is it? One moment he’s in his world, the next he’s jumped through fire with Maia and into the past.
If Maia and Taurus don’t mate on the night of Bel-fire, ancient beliefs and tradition will be lost. But their mating goes far beyond hot, naked sex. Beneath great spiritual fires, they begin a journey that will jeopardize their very lives.
Walpurgis Night By Katherine Kingston
England, 950 C.E.: On the night of the Equinox, all eligible adults must choose a partner to celebrate the night.
Lovely, part-fey Fianna is both desired and feared. Prudence dictates Fianna choose one of the young men who’ve been stalking her for an Equinox companion. But impulse guides her otherwise…
Henrik, an outsider like Fianna herself, finds Fianna and her proposition intriguing. But Henrik warns she may not find his unusual desires to her liking.
Their passion is hotter than the Equinox bonfires. But time and circumstance are against them…
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Excerpt
Night of Fire - Vonna Harper
Chapter One
Movement, noise, light and dark. Flames from the fire at the top of the hill seemed to dance with the night sky. What had to be thousands of people packed Carlton Hill, and so many musical groups were doing their thing that Taron felt as if his head might explode.
Despite his better judgement, he’d agreed to accompany Paul in trekking up the steep staircase once it got dark. What he hadn’t counted on was the sheer mass of bodies he’d encounter. One moment Paul had yelled at him to look back down for a panoramic view of the city. The next, he’d lost his friend.
He’d briefly thought about going back to Paul’s place, but that would mean fighting the tide of humanity surging upward. Besides, there was something about the music-especially the drums. The longer the frantic-sounding beats went on, the more his body seemed to absorb them.
He had to get closer to the action.
Using his size and strength, he pushed past knots of laughing, yelling merrymakers until he caught a glimpse of a group of brightly costumed people who were obviously the center of attention. Most noticeable was a tall woman dressed in veils of every color in the rainbow. In addition, she was weighed down by flowers and assorted greenery. She was surrounded by a number of women dressed entirely in white who looked for all the world as if they were protecting the rainbow woman. A man who was green from head to foot hung near Rainbow Woman. In contrast to the others’ exuberant dancing, he trudged along like an old man.
“Hell if I know what that’s about,” Taron muttered.
The group had been whirling to and fro in one spot, but now a number of Blue Men-Taron couldn’t think of anything else to call them-presented themselves to Rainbow Lady and her attendants.
That’s when the drumming kicked up a notch. Now the earth itself seemed responsible for the driving rhythm; it was almost as if lava was trying to break free. Barely aware of what he was doing, he swayed with the reverberation. Extending his arms, he stomped and whirled, grunted in time. His vision blurred; he no longer cared about the celebration, about tomorrow’s agenda, or the rest of his life.
He was-simply was part of the force and power.
Wild, free, totally in the moment, he looked up. The night was clear, making it possible to see the stars. Stars? How long had it been since he’d studied the sky? Danced? Existed only in this single moment?
No one seemed to notice his pounding, driving legs; no one cared that this sophisticated and wealthy businessman could barely catch his breath and had broken out in sweat. How could they when many of his fellow celebrants were under the same spell?
A kink in his neck forced him to look down. The crowd had shifted, blocking his view of the performers. He started to look for a way to get closer and then. . .
She was all in white, a single, nearly transparent layer of lace that shimmered over her ripe body. The gown, if it could be called that, was caught by a thin gold belt made from what looked like rope. Unless he was wrong, there was a knife or dagger attached to the belt.
She stood apart from the others, a small island of stillness in a surging tide of humanity. Her hair was black and long and loose, trailing down her back. She was barefoot. Young.
She smiled at him.
Holy shit. If I’m going to die tonight, what a way to go.
It didn’t seem possible, and yet she made her way to him without having to dodge bodies. It was almost as if she was a creek flowing effortlessly around all obstacles.
When she stood a couple of feet from him, he took a deep breath, hoping to calm himself. She had large green eyes and smelled of lavender, and no two ways about it, that near cheesecloth she was wearing didn’t hide a thing. Her breasts weren’t particularly large but high and full and firm and luscious. She didn’t have much of a muff; what there was of it appeared as dark as her hair. Just like that, his cock stood at attention.
She looked down at him as if appraising his equipment. “It is ready?” she asked in a smooth, lilting tone.
He’d seen some easy lays in his life, but this was ridiculous. “You don’t mince words, do you?”
“Mince words? I do not understand.”
Now that he’d gotten over his initial surprise at being approached by a goddess, he took note of her formal-sounding speech. Besides, much as he wanted to, there was no ignoring the dagger. Whatever he did, he wasn’t going to piss the lady off.
“Maybe we’d better back up here a bit,” he said. “If this is a come on, I’m interested, but I believe in laying things out on the table with an armed woman.”
“Back up? What table?”
What was she, slow witted? Drunk or on something? Ripe as she might be for the plucking, he’d never taken advantage of a woman. Despite the argument he was getting from his cock, he wasn’t going to change now.
“Did you think I was someone else?” He had to nearly yell in order to make himself heard.
“No, I know who you are.”
Yeah, right. The only person he knew in Edinburgh was Paul. “Do you?”
A large woman jostled the black haired beauty, causing her to stumble. “You are Taurus,” she said as she righted herself.
“Taurus? From the zodiac? You’ve got to be kid-what makes you think that?”
“The lady told me?”
What lady? As Alice In Wonderland would say, things were getting curiouser and curiouser. However, unlike Alice, he wasn’t particularly interested in an explanation. Despite his all but legendary success with women, the truth was that his world didn’t revolve around the opposite sex. Like he’d told a few of his envious male acquaintances-except for Paul who’d grown up in foster homes himself, he didn’t really have what he could call friends-once you’ve humped a hundred women, it gets to be pretty much the same thing. Those acquaintances hadn’t agreed with him, but that’s how he felt.
Until tonight.
“I appreciate the compliment but-”
She leaned forward and cocked her head. “I cannot hear you.”
That he could remedy. Doing what he’d wanted to since he’d first spotted her, he draped his arm over her slender shoulder and drew her to his side. He’d expected her to be more substantial. Instead, she felt almost childlike. Shit! How old was she?
“I said-” He spoke into her ear, fought the desire to take her hair between his teeth and nibble it, to trail his hand down to her breast and tease her nub into hardness. “No man objects to being compared to a bull, but if you’re looking for someone named Taurus, you’ve got the wrong man.”
Either she hadn’t heard him, or she didn’t give a damn about his explanation. Because his wardrobe was sadly lacking in casual wear, he’d put on a pair of dress slacks today, expertly tailored to minimize his more than average size cock since that was hardly what he wanted on display as part of his career. At least the camouflage worked when he didn’t have a hard on.
“I am not wrong,” she said. Now, despite the noise, he had no trouble hearing her. “I know who you are.” She turned so she was facing him. “You are ready for mating?”
“What?”
Before he could even guess that it was going to happen, she closed her small, warm hand over his straining cock. “Your seed-organ is ready.”
“My. . .” How the hell was he suppose to think with her holding him like that?