Crux. Part 27

How do you make a Moira Rogers? Take a former forensic science and nursing student obsessed with paranormal romance and add a computer programmer with a pa.s.sion for gritty urban fantasy. To learn more about this romance-writing, crime-fighting duo, visit their webpage at www.moirarogers.com, or drop them an email at (Disclaimer: crime-fighting abilities may appear only in the aforementioned fevered imaginations.) Look for these t.i.tles by Moira Rogers.

Now Available:.

Cry Sanctuary.

Coming Soon:.

Sanctuary Lost.

He is tired of fighting. She has nowhere to run.

Cry Sanctuary.

2008 Moira Rogers.

Red Rock Pa.s.s Series, Book 1.

Keith Winston is tired of fighting. The war between werewolves and wizards rages on in Europe, but he's come home to Red Rock, Montana in hopes of finding a bit of peace. Instead he finds more strife as he struggles against the pack's dictates that he resume his place as the alpha's right-hand man.

When he rescues a new wolf on the run, he knows his instant attraction to her could cause trouble. What he doesn't expect is to find himself embroiled in another battle that goes against all his instincts-and his heart.

Abigail Adler learned about the existence of werewolves only when she became one. With her life threatened by a corrupt alpha, she flees to the only sanctuary she knows: Red Rock. While she's grateful for the pack's protection, she chafes under its unbreakable rules of conduct-except when it comes to submitting to the pa.s.sion Keith stirs in her.

Then her tormentor kidnaps her sister in an attempt to lure her out of hiding. To save her, Abby and Keith must be willing to do the very thing that could get them all killed-break all of the rules.

Warning: Hot werewolf s.e.x, violence, explosions, and a heroine wielding a makeshift implement of destruction.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Cry Sanctuary: "Oh, G.o.d." Abby tried not to whimper, but the sound escaped her anyway. The animal inside surged forward again, ready-desperate-to be claimed, and she rose from the table, almost knocking her chair over. For a moment, she didn't know what to do. Then she took a deep breath and walked from the tiny kitchenette to Keith's bed.

She gathered every bit of courage she had and turned her back to him. "Can you unzip me? I can't reach."

Even though she heard him move, feeling his hands slide around her waist was a shock. Strong fingers stroked across her stomach before moving up to cup her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and he drew her back against him. "When I get around to it."

Fire streaked through her. Abby rocked back, whimpering again when she felt the hardness of his c.o.c.k press against her a.s.s. "Isn't that the dangerous part?" she asked on a moan. "Getting me so excited?"

"Maybe for someone else." His voice was c.o.c.ky, almost arrogant. He pinched her nipples and rocked against her a.s.s at the same time, his voice low and sensual. "But I can handle you no matter how excited you get, and it's good practice for you."

She cried out and covered his hands with hers, wishing the layers of cloth between his fingers and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were gone. "Practice for what?" For going insane? For dying of frustration?

His breath heated the sensitive skin of her neck, and he bit her earlobe and tugged at her nipples. "For losing control without losing control. I can show you how."

Abby shuddered and batted his hands away. She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck. The heels she wore afforded her easy reach of his mouth, and she bit his lip. "Sounds like a ton of work. We might need to practice a lot." She skated her lips over his cheek and closed her teeth on his ear, growling softly.

His growl was louder, lower. He caught her lips in a bruising kiss as he grasped her hands and tugged them from around his neck. He guided her arms down, behind her back, and bit her lower lip in return as he caught her wrists in one hand. "We do need a lot of practice."

One hand held her wrists trapped, but the other moved to the neckline of her dress. He tugged it down, revealing the thin fabric of the bra underneath, and made a low noise of approval. "And you need practice in letting me take my sweet time." He caught her nipple between his thumb and finger and tweaked it again.

"Bossy b.a.s.t.a.r.d." She tried to free her hands, but he held them tight. Desire clashed with defiance, and Abby growled even as heat flooded her. "Fine. Just let me know when you've caught up."

He jerked her forward, crushing her hips against his. "Oh, I was hard before we got through the door. But I'm not a kid who can't control himself." His fingers inched under the fabric of her bra and tugged it down, baring one breast.

Her head spun, and the ache inside her grew. She wanted to cry out again, to beg him to go faster, make her come. Instead, she clamped her lips together, m.u.f.fling the moan that welled up in her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut and held her body stiffly against his. She wouldn't let him win, wouldn't let him see how close to the edge she was already.

His breath tickled her ear. "All through dinner, Abby. The whole time, I was imagining how it would feel to be inside you. To bend you over and show you how f.u.c.king good it can be when the person and the wolf want the same thing."

When she opened her eyes, she could barely focus on his face. "Why didn't you?" she rasped, pressing closer, sucking in a breath when her nerve endings screamed at the contact. "Why don't you?"

"Oh, I will." He left her breast bare and moved his hand down her body, caressing her stomach over the fabric of the dress. His fingers pressed lower, sneaking under her dress to rub at her c.l.i.t through her underwear. "Maybe more than once."

Abby forgot to be stoic, forgot everything but the searing heat that engulfed her when Keith stroked her. "f.u.c.k-" Her head fell back, her hair brushing her hands where he still held them. She couldn't control her own body as her hips bucked against his hand, once and then again. The tension inside her stretched tighter and snapped, and the accompanying wave of pleasure wrenched a hoa.r.s.e cry from her throat.

His fingers kept stroking and his lips returned to her ear. "Is that how you want it? Bent over, your a.s.s in the air?"

Her knees buckled, and she sagged against the broad wall of his chest. "Please," she whispered. "Please, G.o.d-please-"

Keith released her hands and plunged his fingers into her hair. His mouth came down on hers, but the brutal domination in his kiss had faded. He kissed her slowly this time, teasing at her lips without pressing past them. His hands moved to the zipper at the back of her dress and slowly pulled the tab, parting the teeth.

Abby licked his lips and urged his shirt up. "When is it my turn?" she asked against his mouth, the twisting need to make him gasp her name overriding everything else.

"What do you want to do?" The dress came undone and he tugged it down.

"Make you crazy." She let him peel the dress over her hips and kicked it away when it fell to the floor. "I want to make you beg."

Keith grinned at her as he slowly turned her to face away from him. His hands smoothed up her arms and to her shoulders, and he nudged her upper body toward the bed. "Sounds tempting as h.e.l.l, sweetheart, but that's not how it works. Until you're in control of yourself, you can't be in control of anyone else."

Her hands. .h.i.t the bed and curled into the covers. She looked back at him, her brow furrowed. "That doesn't sound very fair. I'm doing all right so far." Except for the fact that her arms and legs were trembling, and she couldn't quite seem to catch her breath.

One eyebrow went up as he slipped his fingers under the hem of her underwear and dragged it off of her a.s.s. "You think we've even gotten started?"

Only in each other will they discover how to be truly free.

Puma.

2008 Jorrie Spencer.

Callie, a cat-shifter, is a loner by virtue of the puma that lives inside her. After a job gone bad, her very human need for contact sends her in search of the only family she has. Callie finds her foster sister in a disturbing living arrangement. Something is seriously wrong in a place where people "belong" to one man and silence is enforced to the point a seven-year-old girl pretends to be autistic.

Dev Malik thinks it's odd to see a strange woman in the tall gra.s.s behind his house, but he doesn't have the time to ponder why. He's too busy trying to shelter the child and woman in his household from Scott, the control freak who lives with them.

The truth is more dangerous than Callie imagines. Scott's control is powerfully real. And Dev's need to protect the vulnerable is as strong as Callie's own. Their desire is as inevitable as it is frightening, for only by looking deep within each other will they find the strength to free them all from an unspeakable evil.

Warning: This t.i.tle contains explicit s.e.x.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Puma: Instead of replying, or even responding to her statement, his gaze dropped to her mouth. His hand slid over her shoulder, across to her neck; fingers forked up into her hair and made a fist to anchor her head so she couldn't move. His mouth was a mere breath from hers.

"I'm going to kiss you, Callie." He watched for her reaction and she didn't know if she was supposed to give a verbal yes, or not. He must have seen something to encourage him. She thought he would kiss like before: sudden, deep, all his for the taking.

His lips brushed hers and before she could protest his leaving, he returned, caught her lower lip between his gentle teeth, sc.r.a.ped it lightly. Like the end of this morning's kiss, but this was a beginning. A noise rose from her throat, in question, in desire, and with the fist that held her hair in his grip, he angled her head.

"G.o.d," he said, a guttural sound, before his mouth covered hers, forcing her mouth open, stroking her tongue with his. He tasted of mint and chocolate and Dev; and she tried to welcome him though all she could do was accept as he devoured her. She'd been kissed before and hadn't much liked it, hadn't liked the invasion. Dev was different, demanding, yes, but focused on her. His large hand splayed across her back, between her shoulder blades, and pushed her flush against him so they had full-body contact. The flood of sensation, from his talented mouth-she had never felt so thoroughly kissed, his tongue demanding hers to dance, then withdrawing to explore her lips before delving in again-to the warmth of his body pressed against hers.

She actually went weak in the knees.

As she sank against him, he cupped the back of her head, holding her in that kiss, while the other arm wrapped around her waist, anchoring her to him. He slid his hand under her T-shirt and clasped her ribs, his palm and fingers warm against her skin.

His tongue released hers, and he retreated to nibble her lips. He kissed across her jawline and descended to her neck where he sucked at the sensitive skin there. Her throat vibrated, half-groan, half-purr, all pleasure. As he kissed across her collarbone, he said, "Callie, Callie. I want us to make love."

He pulled back sharply then, as if to give himself a shake, and she reached for him, hands on his shoulders, scared he would go away. She couldn't stand it, couldn't take being released by him now.

He eyed her while he raised his hands to rest upon hers. For a terrible moment, she feared he was going to remove her hold on him, return to that "don't touch" manner he sometimes projected. Instead, he caressed the backs of her hands, feather-soft strokes of his fingertips over her knuckles, between her knuckles and, most sensitively, between her fingers. She trembled in reaction, amazed that her hands could react to his touch so. A warmth gathered in her belly.

He did lift her hands off, but linked fingers with his and brought their arms down together, pulling her up against him again. Perhaps he too craved touch despite his... She bit her lip.

"What, Callie?"

"Earlier you said you weren't interested in s.e.x."

He stiffened and she closed her eyes, wishing the thought hadn't flitted through her mind, wishing she could have lied or at least fobbed him off with a "nothing", though it was important to her that she be honest with Dev.

She rested her face against the crook of his neck and willed him not to push her away after her reminder. When she kissed him, he shuddered. They were soft, almost chaste kisses, not like his that had ravaged her neck.

He brought her arms behind her, clasped both wrists in one large hand, while with his other, he pressed a palm against the small of her back. Her belly felt him hard against her. Aroused.

That made her smile into his neck.

"Look at me," he demanded, so she tilted her head back to meet his gaze. "You like that, that you've made me hard, that you've made me want you?"

"Yes." She struggled a little, which resulted in her writhing against him, but he didn't release her arms. Lifting his free hand to her face, he held her gaze to his, palm on her cheek. With the pad of his thumb, he traced the bone just under her eye, traced her cheekbone, then ran that thumb over her lips.

"You're beautiful."

It made her breathe faster, these words, these intense caresses, this attention. He trailed fingers down her neck to the swell of her breast. He was watching her very carefully as he lightly palmed her breast and her sensitive nipple began to ache.

"Dev?" She wasn't sure what she was asking.

"Hmmm?" His mouth dipped to her neck, teeth sc.r.a.ping the soft skin, then soothing it with a kiss. And again. His hand slipped under the hem of her T-shirt, and rose to catch her nipple between thumb and finger, rolling the nub. "Do you like that?" he murmured as he kissed her throat.

She arched against him and he swallowed her "yes", his mouth taking hers in a punishing kiss.

Her knees gave out this time, but he caught her, finally releasing her arms, though not her mouth, as he lifted her and she wrapped herself around him. He brought her to the bed.

She tried to contain her disappointment as he set her down on the mattress. He yanked off her shirt, then his, her shorts then his, all in short order. It had been a revelation, this kind of foreplay, but now he was ready to f.u.c.k.

He crawled over her and for a moment she thought he was going to move up so he'd f.u.c.k her mouth, but he reached back and pulled her up so they were face to face again, her under him. He'd wanted to make love, she remembered, and that rea.s.sured her.

"You make me feel, Callie." The words seemed almost to be dragged from him and she touched his face, roughened because he hadn't shaved.

"I think you're beautiful too, Dev." She wanted to offer him something of her feelings, though that barely described her real emotions. Tentatively she ran a hand through his short hair, which was surprisingly soft to touch.

"Are you scared to touch me, Callie?"

"No." The question caught her off guard, and it must have shown.

"You prefer that I touch you?" He skimmed a hand down her side and across her stomach. Her underside. It made her feel vulnerable and he seemed to notice, because he crossed his palm back and forth across her soft belly until she relaxed into the touch. "Tell me what you like," he urged.

She didn't know. He traced some ribs, but he didn't release her gaze so she said, "I like you."

He smiled then, so pleased, the smile wider than she'd observed before, like she was seeing a new Dev.

"I like everything you do. You make me feel so warm. Inside."

His slightly bemused expression made her add, "Is that wrong to say?"

"No," he said immediately. "Nothing is wrong to say." He sat back and she feared he was retreating, giving up on them making love. Perhaps because he thought she didn't like to touch him? That wasn't it, wasn't it at all. She was just so unsure, but she began to rise, to follow him.

He came back, pushing her down, lying atop her, that full-body contact she craved, though he took some of the weight with his elbows. He kissed her deeply, a kind of rea.s.surance, then broke away and held her shoulders. "Stay here."

Again he sat up. Instead of backing away, he pulled up both her legs, ran palms over her thighs, front and back. Then calves were caressed before he wrapped his hands around her ankles to place her feet down near her b.u.t.t, knees pointed up. She frowned at him and he smiled, resting hands on her knees. He pushed them apart, making her legs drop open.

She felt completely exposed and very, very wet.

"You, Callie, are going to tell me if at any time you feel uncomfortable, okay?"

Her chest rose and fell as he placed the heel of his palm on her pubis and rubbed lightly. Surprised, realizing she was completely ready, she arched up to push against his hand. "Dev, I want you inside me."

Talk about getting your signals crossed...

Wolf Signs.

2009 Vivian Arend.

Granite Lake Wolves, Book 1.

Robyn Maxwell doesn't care that her brother has to cancel out on their backcountry ski trip. She can do it alone. The fact she's deaf doesn't make her survival skills any weaker. The chance to get away from it all and relax in the Yukon wilderness is just what she's been craving.

Meeting wilderness guide Keil at the cabin starts cravings of another kind. Keil's one hot hunk of ripped, tasty male. Now she has to deal with raging hormones as well as strange questions about wolves and mates and challenges to the death.

Keil was trying for a nice reflective retreat before challenging for the Alpha position of his Alaskan pack. He wasn't planning on meeting the woman destined to be his mate, or finding out she's not aware she has the genes of a wolf.

Between dealing with his accident-p.r.o.ne younger brother, a deaf mate with an att.i.tude and an impending duel to the death, his week-and his bed-is suddenly full.

Far from the relaxing getaway any of them had in mind...

Warning: Gives a whole new meaning to the phrase "talking with your hands". Includes dangerous use of sarcasm and hot nookie in a remote wilderness sauna.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Wolf Signs: Robyn shifted uncomfortably on the bench in the annex outside the sauna. Keil had gone back into the cabin with TJ and left her with the directions to relax and wait for him while he grabbed a few things. She added a couple extra logs into the stove, topped up the snow in the buckets and sat to wait.

It was d.a.m.n uncomfortable to be sitting there knowing any moment a werewolf was going to walk in the door and have s.e.x with her.