The Founders: Book 1 (Sage Seed Chronicles)
by Holly Barbo
Marisily woke abruptly. The night was completely dark as both moons, Cear and Luna, had set. She could hear the sound of the nearby Cascade River but it didn’t soothe her as it usually did. All of her senses were fully alert as if someone had screamed. She lay there a moment trying to figure out what had awakened her. Leaning on one elbow, Marisily listened hard. The house was still yet the hair on her arms and the back of her neck were standing up with alarm; there was a tense knot in the pit of her stomach. The sense of foreboding was a low thrum going through her body with each heartbeat. Marisily carefully scrutinized the familiar surroundings of her room searching for the source of what had woken her. The small space seemed to be as it had always been, simple with no fancy touches or possessions. Without making a sound Marisily got out of bed and kneeling beside it, folded back the small rag rug her mother had made for her many years ago. She ran her fingers over the floor board it covered, skimming the edges until she felt the small knothole. Carefully she lifted the board and touched the contents hidden beneath it with shaky fingers. She didn’t understand why, but knowing that no one had found the secret hiding had found the secret hiding place eased her anxiety somewhat.
Tori sat for a moment, considering what he had said. "But you know" she eventually observed, "I spent my whole childhood alone. Literally, never saw another child in person until we left the camp in Brazil, and I was, well, developed by then and really didn't think of myself as young anymore. I still don't. I can't get that time back, Eli. I will never have something everyone else has—those memories. That part of my life is gone… forever."
Eli found himself lost in her words. Reaching up, he brushed her hair back from her face, his tone alluring, "So, you will have to start from here. You still have your whole life ahead of you, so make it a good one. You can't fool me, Tori. I know you will do what's right." He only hoped he could do the same.
Jess searched an old calendar on the Net, and found that the third postcard was left at the beach house the week they were all in California. Her parents returned to another postcard.
Puzzled, she went back into the folder again and read more correspondence between her dad and a government official. Her dad researched stalkers in the Vineyard area, the Washington area where they resided, but apparently came up with nothing. The other person appeared to be telling her dad it could just be a teenage prank or simply a secret admirer of Jess’s.
Jess opened the file that held copies of the postcards. They were simple postcards of scenic views which could be found in any shop in the Vineyard. The backs of the postcards showed Jess’s name printed very neatly, and beside it was written, “I Crave You.” All three cards had the same quote, her name, no address and no postage stamp. They would have been placed under the door in person.
A cold chill ran up her spine. It was definitely not a prank from one of her friends; they had more class than that!
The three words, “I Crave You,” struck a nerve. Where had she heard those words? Jess couldn’t recollect if the words were used in the existing case, or if they were from her past.
........After the show, Tommy, Ash, and I, along with the rest of the band, hang out in the club and have more drinks. The band is…well, to say the very least, interesting. The other guys are nice. I’ve never hung out with musicians before, so I’m not quite sure what to expect. They’re all extremely good-looking. They have lots of tattoos and they’re all very polite, but one guy in particular is quite the cocky, conceited show-off. He has short, spiky, dark hair and piercing blue eyes, along with many, many tattoos. He has a slender build and is wearing a black V-neck T-shirt and tight jeans. If I were about thirty years younger, this would be the bad boy I would love to hang with!
“Olivia, this is Bert,” Tommy says. “He’s the founding member of our band.”
“Nice to meet you, Bert. So, tell me, is Bert a family name?”
They all start laughing, but I don’t get it. I’m kind of embarrassed. What’s so damn funny, anyway? Ash quietly whispers in my ear that ‘Bert,’ or Prince Albert, refers to an area of his body that is pierced for sexual pleasure. Oh, excuse me? That is totally new to me. I’ve heard of tongues and lips being pierced, and that supposedly brings some kind of sexual pleasure, but geez! The penis? Oh my God!
Wired for Sound The MacGrough Clan Book 3
Near the edge of the manicured grass, which stretched out before them, there were several large bushes. By the light of the moon and the headlights of the vehicles headed south, they were able to get the bike over the curb then into the shelter of the shrubbery.
Lori took off her helmet. She tossed it contemptuously to the ground. Hamish threw his in the same general direction. Lori started to move past him to the luggage rack. H.M. reached out one arm to grab her.
He lifted her up, placing her on his seat before pulled up the hem of her tee shirt. Hamish began to suck on one nipple. Lori clutched his head, twisting her fingers into his hair. Lori made a small sound when he switched to the other nipple. At the same time Hamish was tugging at the snap on the waistband of her jeans. With one hand, Lori felt for the crotch of his jeans. She rubbed him through the material. H.M. made a rumbling sound deep in his throat.
Lori unsnapped his jeans then pushed the cloth past his hips. He rubbed against her hand, Lori chuckled, they were both very needy. She stripped off one shoe. H.M. helped her pull off one pant leg.
Hamish knew the vibration had been teasing her all day. Spreading her legs he entered her in one quick lunge.
Lori gasped in pleasure as he began to move inside her. She clung to the bitch bar with one hand and the center of the handlebars with the other. It was hot, hard and quick. The proximity of the other vehicles just on the other side of the bushes along with the possibility of discovery titillated her making her climax, when it came, even more pleasurable.
David found himself once again drawn to the photo he had of Tiana. The first thing about the woman in the picture that struck him was the eyes. Her eyes were the biggest and brightest blue with just the faintest hint of green he had ever seen. It was those eyes that had haunted him during the days leading up to this moment. He had thought he would have been able to pick Tiana out anywhere. However, scrutinizing the tall, willowy woman who was drifting off in her own world, he noticed that she barely resembled the picture. Her hair was longer now and the eyes he had found enchanting were different, harder somehow. David studied Tiana with guarded eyes. Nightclub employee, what am I getting myself into now, he thought. Hearing footsteps, David disappeared further into the shadows of the dimly lit hall.
Noticing that Tiana was daydreaming, CeCe didn’t want to startle her, so she paused at Tiana’s door and cleared her throat in order to get her attention. Recognizing CeCe’s perfume wafting in the air, Tiana answered without turning around. “Hey. Are you heading out?”
A brunette, a raven-haired beauty, and a girl looking like a peacock all walk into a bar. No, it's not a joke; it's my not-so-mundane life that generally feels like the setup for a wisecrack.
No matter how many times my friends and I claim we are going to do something new, every Friday night we find our tushes planted at Mulligan's. However, today our weekly Friday night venture truly seemed out of the cards since my friends were originally too tired from their workweeks to consider anything short of collapsing. When you are in your early thirties and single you should be embracing life, not rotting on a sofa. Thus, when my friends bailed I detoured into Warped Records which is both a second home and how I envision my little corner of Heaven. Some would call the smell of old album covers a dank stench, but to me it's a musky perfume that seeps into my pores and comforts me with the knowledge that no matter what fails me I always have my sanctuary.
Among the bins of paradise and the blaring Siouxsie the perfect gem captured my gaze and held it for ransom. Before me was a pair of eyes so unlike any other that they were nearly indescribable.
Piercing? No. That implies they shot through my skin and reached my heart; however, these somehow reached my soul. Captivating? Again that was misleading. While they did hold my attention they also kept me at bay. Perhaps haunting? Yes, they did indeed haunt me. They also seemed to follow me to wherever I stood. A true description was so elusive that the color wasn't easily defined. They were deep blue, yet also flannel grey with a hint of green. In a certain light they seemed black with specks of gold.
All of these emotions and colors were brought forth by just one picture—a picture on an album that had been slipped into plastic and unceremoniously tacked to the wall, yet somehow it jumped out at me and begged for worship.
Hunter dipped his head to kiss her. "You don't ever have to worry about that. I'll always have time for you. Next time, come get me when you're awake. I don't want to miss a minute more than I have to with you. I didn't mean to spend so much of the day hidden in my office. I woke up from another dream and there was a face of a girl on the plane that I've never dreamed about before. So I went to go see if I could find anything about another passenger. Then I ended up calling Range's to see if they ever found anything out. All they had was that someone paid one of their younger workers, a seventeen year old, to put the letters under our door, but the kid is not saying much more. Oh, and the estimate came in for the boat damages. Not as bad as I thought. That's what I've been spending the morning doing."
Becca let all the information soak in. The one that stood out the most was his dream of another girl on the plane. She had such vague memories of that night. It scared her beyond belief that there might have been another person that survived. Dread squeezed her gut.
"Bec? You okay? You're so pale." Hunter caressed her cheek. She snapped back to reality and looked up in his eyes.
"I keep wondering now if someone else made it and we don't remember." If that were true, she had no words. None. They had it rough before they were found, but at least they'd been together. If there had been someone else and the person went through it alone. Ugh. She couldn't imagine.
"I know. I keep thinking the same thing. I searched all over the water near the plane that night, looking for anyone that survived. I remember that well. I checked every single-" Hunter stopped and swallowed hard. His eyes darkened.
He didn't even have to finish talking for Becca to know what he meant. He'd checked every single passenger for signs of life. While she'd known that, she never put much thought into the reality of him having to do all of it. Releasing a deep sigh, she snuggled herself even closer in Hunter's arms and rested her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. They stood in silence, holding each other for comfort.
Terence glanced back from the driver’s seat, and his shaggy dark hair whipped about his gleaming coal black eyes. He smiled and gestured to the chair next to him. “Best seat in the house,” he yelled over the wind and the roar of the engines.
The mature Terence was better looking than the teen. The past thirteen years had carved his boyish features into one fine looking man. Marissa had been right about his voice. It was like chocolate on silk, two of Annie’s favorite things.
Clad only in a pair of jeans, he padded up behind her and swept her hair off to the side. The exposed silken skin of her slender neck, invited his hungry mouth. He gave her a light, but passion filled kiss on the back of her neck, as he firmly wrapped both arms around her in a loving embrace. He had gotten so used to touching her, that it felt perfectly normal to physically express how he felt with her.
The sun had just begun its nocturnal voyage below the distant sea. Lexi beheld her beloved sunset in a glory that she had never before witnessed. Every shade of orange, pink, rose, and purple was visible in an ever-changing mural. “This is so perfect, Ryan. Everything is just so perfect.”
He turned her around and kissed her full lips, softly, gently. Their fingertips slowly roamed each other’s bodies and the passion began to heat up. Ryan wanted to be a tease. He abruptly broke off the kiss. “Let that build up for a while, come on and let me take you out, on a proper date for once.” He threw on a button down shirt and took her hand, before he led her out into the evening air.
Wilder was fine, just winded. She turned to Elvis, ready to whip some mad on him. “Would you mind explaining what you’re doing here?”
“Sorry, Detective Gorgeous Eyes. I’m trying to find out who killed my Priscilla. I might possibly, have overheard you and your partner talking about staking out the store.”
“I thought I’d have a look myself—undercover. I was doing a decent job of it until I saw Detective James take off like a bat out of hell. I followed in case he needed backup. And, well, here I am.” Elvis sheepishly looked away.
“Undercover? In a freaking, flashing, light up Elvis jump suit?” She looked him up and down, blinking at the lights on his clothes.
“I accidentally hit the on button while running.”
From Lone Wolf Rising, Book One in The Winters Saga
He took a step forward and Rebecca countered with one step backward. It was like a dance only the leader was a dangerous stranger that made her feel as uneasy as a piece of meat being eyed for dinner.
"You have no reason to be frightened, little wolf." He smiled sincerely.
She stepped back pushing down the rising fear with a hard swallow. "What makes you think I'm frightened? I just like having my own space." Another lie. She was getting good at telling lies.
"I promised you I wouldn't let anyone hurt you." He took another step forward with promise in his golden eyes.
Careful slide back.
He took another step toward her and grasped her arms in his hands, gently pulling her closer with no hope of escape; effectively ending the dance and increasing the attraction.
From To Serve is Divine, Book One of The Divine Trilogy
Being cradled in Master’s arms, she’d discovered, gave Catherine insight to his thoughts. When he held her close and tight, she could tell by his touch what frame his mind was in.
If Master was angry or worried about something his touch was firm and hard, but he was always controlled. Should he be in a playful mood, his touch became gentle caresses, feather-light and suggestive of fun times to be had. Lust came through Master’s toys when they set her skin on fire so that Catherine begged for him to put his flesh on hers. She knew of Master’s pride because it showed in his amber eyes every time he looked at her.