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They’re primed and primal, untamed and unstoppable, always ready to go further, harder, longer to bring a woman pleasure that’s wild, fiery, and out of this world…
“Chanku Wild” by Kate Douglas
They are the Chanku-an ancient race of shapeshifters, gifted with extraordinary sexual appetites. Now the pack-mates, plus new arrivals AJ, Mik, and Tala, are preparing for Oliver and his beloved Mei Chen to finally bond in a mating ritual that will take each to the peak of ecstasy, and prove as erotic as it is dangerous…
“Night Scream” by Vonna Harper
To the Walapai Apache of Arizona, a puma’s cry has always been a dangerous omen. Amy Murphy, practical to the core, scorns such legends, until she attends a pow-wow near Flagstaff, where she’s immediately drawn to a powerful, dark-eyed man. Her attraction is intense, inexplicable, irresistible-leading her into a wildly carnal encounter that awakens the animal within…
“In Ice” by Crystal Jordan
When Jain Roberts’ ship crashes on a distant, futuristic planet, she’s rescued by Kesuk, the lusty clan leader of the Arctic Bears. This magnificent creature with white-blond hair and a potent masculinity haunts her dreams-dreams he intends to make deliciously real, as he draws her into a realm of complete sexual abandon…
“The heat rating is off the charts!” -Romantic Times on Sexy Beast
WARNING! This is a REALLY HOT book. Explicit sex.
Excerpt
She might have ventured closer if she hadn’t noted movement to her right. Turning in that direction, she caught sight of a group of five or six Native American men who were all watching as another man approached them. The newcomer was leading a string of halter-wearing horses kept together via what she imagined was called a lead rope. The horses were stocky and not particularly tall, their coats rough and thick as if they spent their lives out-of-doors. As fascinated as she was by the livestock, the handler truly held her attention.
He resembled the horses. All right, so he stood upright, maybe going a couple of inches over six feet, but there was something strong and rugged about him, something not quite tame. He held the thick rope in the sure way of a master horseman, his attention divided between his charges and those waiting for him. Clad in a blue and white flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows, molded-to-muscles jeans, and boots that looked as if they’d married his feet, he didn’t walk so much as glide.
No, not glide. As if he had no use for gravity, leaving thigh and calf muscles free to dominate his turf, his world. He could run, leap, pounce, attack-
Lordy! What was she thinking? Damn it, she was logic, all logic, devoted to the science and predictability of math. Waxing erotic about a hunk of man-flesh was hardly her style. As for lusting after a member of that sex, not going to happen!
Unsure in ways she couldn’t list or sort, she tried to slide her hands into her back pockets, but of course the damn professional slacks didn’t have any. Instead of dropping her arms to her sides, she ran her fingers over her rump, feeling her femininity, her soft roundness. Experience had taught her that touching herself in certain areas and ways in certain circumstances was unwise because it set off feelings and emotions she had to struggle to contain.
Just the same, her fingers stayed put as she ogled-okay, let’s be honest here-the cowpoke or whatever he was. Not just dark hair but capital letter black, glossy and wind-tossed at the same time, shoulder length and sweeping across his forehead but not hiding deep-set eyes. What color were they, black hopefully. And the mouth, ah sigh, strong and firm, a man’s mouth. No puny little nose but proud and broad. Wonderfully high cheekbones and a squared chin she’d give a month’s pay to run her fingertips and lips over.
Get a grip, damn you! What is your problem?
Okay so she knew the answer to that: too many nights, and days, alone. But she’d deliberately carved out that life for herself. She craved independence and solitude, the peace that came from lack of emotional entanglements.
The safety and security.
He’d come close enough to the other men that they should have no trouble carrying on a conversation, but instead of the mutter of deep voices she expected, they did little more than nod and step back as the newcomer approached. She told herself they were putting distance between themselves and the horses, but something about the way they kept their attention on the handler made her doubt that. It was as if, darn it, it was as if they didn’t want him intruding on their space.
Her curiosity now on high, she folded her arms over her breasts. After the better part of a minute, the oldest man stepped forward and hooked his fingers around one horse’s halter. Then the old man leaned his head against the horse’s neck, his free hand scratching between two laidback ears, his long, thin silver hair obscuring his features. His movement seemed to galvanize the others into action because each chose a mount and untied it from the lead rope until the loner was left with a pinto. Except for the silver-haired man, the group turned and walked away with their charges following close behind. The hunky handler and the old man started talking, making her wish she could hear what they were saying or read their expressions. Then the old man stuck out his hand and the hunk took it, their shake saying a great deal about mutual respect and reservation.
When the man who she decided must be an elder or chief took off after his companions, her attention, not surprisingly, went back to the loner. The way he studied not just the horses but the others reminded her too much of how she’d watched the various groups earlier.
And not just today.
She and Black Hair were set apart, she in part because she didn’t know anyone in town, but why him? He’d apparently just provided a service for those men. Didn’t they owe him something, money, at least a thank you?
Although the men were already starting to paint designs or symbols on the horses’ flanks and necks, probably in preparation for some ceremony they’d be involved in during the pow-wow, they didn’t hold her interest.
How could they when Black Hair was looking at her?