Michelle Miles is here to tell us about Dark Night of the Soul, War of the Brotherhood Book 1, a dark paranormal romance.
There's also a great giveaway.
_______________________
Love made him
dangerous.
Devotion will make him unstoppable.
Dark Night of the
Soul
War of the Brotherhood Book 1
by Michelle Miles
Genre: Dark Paranormal Romance
Love made him
dangerous. Devotion will make him unstoppable.
For centuries, Kincade survived by control.
Forged by the Brotherhood, he learned to bury his humanity, suppress his
instincts, and become exactly what they needed him to be—a weapon. Darkness was
safer than feeling. Obedience was survival.
Then she changed everything.
When the woman he loves is taken, restraint shatters. The careful balance he's
fought to maintain slips—and the Brotherhood sees their opening. They want the
monster he used to be. The weapon they never quite lost.
To save her, he may have to become exactly that.
As ancient secrets rise and factions fracture, the line between protector and
destroyer begins to blur. Every step closer to her pulls him deeper into the
war he tried to escape—and toward the darkness he swore would never rule him
again.
Because this time, love isn't his weakness. It's his point of no return.
Dark Night of the Soul is a dark
paranormal romance set within the War of the Brotherhood—a high-stakes spin-off arc in the Dream
Walker universe. You do not need to read the previous Dream Walker books to
enjoy DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL. This spinoff is designed to stand on its own.
Perfect for readers who love:
* Dark, emotionally intense paranormal romance
* Immortal antiheroes and devotion-driven stakes
* Secret orders, hidden wars, and found family
* Love that becomes defiance
Content Note: This book contains dark themes and intense
scenes, including violence, injury and blood, torture / forced restraint,
psychological trauma, and situations involving coercion / control. It also
includes threats to a loved one. Reader discretion is advised.
"Dark Night of the Soul by Michelle Miles is
everything dark paranormal romance should be—intense, emotional, and completely
consuming. I devoured it."
MICHELLE MILES believes in fairy tales, true love, and a
little bit of magic in every story. She writes fantasy, paranormal, and young
adult books packed with adventure, action, and swoon-worthy romance—because
what’s a story without a bit of danger and a whole lot of heart? From angels
and demons to dragons, elves, and time travelers, her books are filled with
epic quests, fierce heroines, and the kind of heroes worth falling for.
When she's not crafting new adventures, she brings stories
to life as a narrator and hosts Miles Beyond the Page, a podcast where she
chats with authors about their writing journeys. A Texas girl through and
through, she loves getting lost in a good book, binge-watching movies, hiking
the trails, and sipping a glass of wine. Come hang out with her on Facebook,
Instagram, Pinterest, and more!
Be evil. (Except, y’know, when someone’s in trouble, or might need a rescue out of an open grave, things like that.)
Adopt new members. (At least, Fenric would love to keep the sexy bard, but would Lirion even want to join them?)
Retrieve Fenric’s mother’s stolen treasures (and beat up the heroes who stole them if possible)
Rescue Lirion’s sister and wait, what do you mean breaking up a sex ring and helping a village from being overrun by finfolk LOWERED our villain rankings overnight?
Future Goals: climb the villain rankings, find a lair, get revenge, and trash talk The Box
Welcome and try not to die (but if you do our necromancer will raise you).
This book contains: questionable baking practices, Tub Time™, and emotional support pecs.
Tags:
LitRPG, gay romance, shapeshifting, high fantasy, possessed clubs, accidental poisonings, chosen family, heroes vs. villains, band of brothers, a shapeshifting rogue, an elf necromancer, a loquacious barbarian, a warlock with a talking stick, a half-merman pirate, a poisonous Puppy, quest of vengeance, Fenric’s not sure how he became the mother hen of the group, Maxie doesn’t need more seduction lessons, Lirion begs to differ, Tub Time is sacred, incompetence can be sexy, apparently, High Seas Hijinks, another example of a bard f*cking his way in AND out of trouble, if villain bad, why hot?, calling all passengers: Hop on board, the shenanigan ship is about to sail! Skelebabies
“The only problem is that no one knows how things are ranked. The ministry has always kept that a tight secret,” Malfas joined in. “No one knows if they view kidnapping a family of five as more or less evil than killing a priest of say, Sabu.”
“Or is kidnapping a family of five farmers worse than kidnapping a family of three nobles? No one knows!” Rain whined.
Malfas nodded. “These are the kinds of things we need to know if we’re going to climb the rankings.”
Fenric scoffed. “Or even get on the list.”
“E.V.I.L. isn’t currently on the list? How big is the list?” Maxie asked as he turned to pour the eggs onto the hot skillet.
“Twenty spots each. Top twenty heroes and top twenty villains,” Rain answered.
“After all the information is gathered, the minister meets with his twenty chancellors,” Fenric continued to keep Rain from heading down the path of listing all the reason why those twenty villains didn’t deserve to be on the list at all. “They compare the new information with the last released rankings and discuss the results. Following a month of debate, the Ministry of Hero and Villain Affairs releases both lists.”
“But it’s all bullshit!” Rain roared, pounding on the table some more. “Everyone knows that both sides are bribing the hell out of the minister and his fucking flunkies so they get listed higher than they deserve. Brickle the Beast keeps paying his way into the number nineteen slot on the villains, and I wouldn’t let that nose-picking shit-stealer lick my boots. He’s an idiot. He’s sank more ships than I’ve even owned.”
“And the heroes aren’t any better.” Malfas grumbled as he watched Maxie move the eggs around in the pan with a spatula.
Sadly, despite knowing that the food was probably poisoned, Fenric couldn’t deny a delicious aroma was starting to drift from the kitchen. Was that part of the poison at work? Did Maxie’s magic actually try to entice you into eating his food? That was fucking sinister.
“I’ve heard plenty of people state that at least seventeen of the twenty spots on the heroes’ list are bought and paid for with bribes,” Malfas continued.
“More like all twenty,” Rain grumbled.
“But why are the lists so important,” Maxie inquired. He crossed to one of the cabinets and pulled down a chipped wooden plate. “It doesn’t seem like something that people would care enough about to bribe their way onto it. Especially the villains. You’re all so badbums and amazing.”
Fenric winced. May the gods fucking forgive him, but someone needed to teach Maxie how to properly swear. “That’s badass, you mean,” he corrected. “Badass.”
Maxie smiled brilliantly at him. “Yes, badass.”
Rain snickered and Fenric kicked the pirate under the table, causing him to howl.
“The heroes care about the list because they receive a very healthy stipend from the government for appearing on the list. Higher on the list they are, the more they receive,” Malfas explained.
“But isn’t that to help save on military and public service fees. The main government and small local governments don’t need to keep large watches and guards because of the heroes,” Maxie replied. He picked up the spatula and started scooping fluffy scrambled eggs onto the plate.
“That would be true if the heroes weren’t as corrupt as hell and more dangerous than most villains,” Rain countered.
Maxie wilted. “Oh.” He placed the plate on the counter near the stove. Even from where Fenric sat at the table, he could see that those were the damn fluffiest scrambled eggs he’d seen in his life. He was tempted to give them a taste even though he knew they had to be deadly.
“Villains obviously don’t get a government paycheck for being evil. However, being on the list clears away headaches sometimes and opens up opportunities,” Fenric continued, trying to ignore the sudden rumbling of his stomach.
Maxie blinked wide eyes. “I beg your pardon?”
“Little peon, weak villains will steer clear of you if you’re on the list,” Rain said.
“And opportunities arise when you have a big scheme but can’t do it all yourself. This means you have to hire in more help—like an experienced pirate with a ship or a necromancer,” Malfas explained. He pinched a fluffy chunk of egg between two fingers and held it up to the sunlight pouring through one of the windows, inspecting it.
“Or a powerful warlock and a rogue thief good at sneaking,” Maxie continued.
“Exactly! If you’re on the list, you’ve proven yourself as a badass and can command a higher cut of the booty at the end of the job.”
And without a thought in his fucking head, Malfas popped that egg into his mouth and chewed happily, looking so proud of himself for giving Maxie such valuable and important information.
“Malfas!” Fenric shouted while Maxie stared in horror.
“What?” The warlock was still clueless.
Rain fell out of his chair laughing. The damn pirate rolled on the floor, knocking into chairs, cackling like a lunatic, while the poor warlock continued to look on utterly confused. But the realization hit him finally, and all the color drained from his face.
“What did I do?” he gasped.
“Is there a chance it wasn’t poisoned?” Maxie asked in a small voice.
“Nope. It was poisoned.” His voice was growing tighter as his hands lifted to clutch his stomach. He flashed Maxie a weak smile as he started to curl his body slowly toward the floor. “The eggs were, ungh, delicious though. Best I’ve ever eaten.”
Fenric scoffed. “Probably the last too.”
“I think I’ll go find Hapi,” Maxie offered, already starting to run for the stairs.
“And tell him to bring some skelebabies. I’m not dragging his corpse into the yard,” Fenric yelled after him.
Author Bio:
AJ Sherwood believes in happily ever afters, magic, dragons, good men, and dark chocolate. She often dreams at night of delectable men doing sexy things with each other. In between writing multiple books (often at the same time) she pets her cats, plays with her dogs, and attempts insane things like aerial yoga.
She currently resides in Michigan with aforementioned dogs and cats. Being in snow country gives her the excuse to stay inside and watch bl dramas, which suit her perfectly.
You can find AJ in all the places here: https://mailchi.mp/83b827b73069/aj-sherwood
Jocelynn Drake loves a good story, whether she is reading it or writing one of her own. Over the years, her stories have allowed her to explore space, talk to dragons, dodge bullets with assassins, hang with vampires, and fall in love again and again.
This former Kentucky girl has moved up, down, and across the U.S. with her husband. Recently, they’ve settled near the Rockies.
When she is not hammering away at her keyboard or curled up with a book, she can be found walking her dog Ace, or playing video games. She loves Bruce Wayne, Ezio Auditore, travel, tattoos, explosions, and fast cars.
You can find Jocelynn in all the places here: https://linktr.ee/jocelynndrake
—
Thanks so much for reading today's post. Hope
you enjoyed it!
Kandi Cain inherited her Dr. Doolittle abilities from her
grandmother and became a psychic pet detective. To her dismay, she just
acquired the power to communicate with the spirit world, but dead people give
her the willies.
Just when Kandi thought her life couldn’t get more complicated, the neighbor
from hell moved in next door. The nasty guy’s name is Dutch Callaghan. How can
someone so gorgeous be such a dick? Kandi could chalk some of it up to his job.
Dutch is a Phoenix PD homicide cop.
Kandi’s current case is rescuing a Yorkie from a brutal dog fighting ring.
Little does she know her dog napping suspect is involved in a series of brutal
murders. Disguised as an elderly nun, Kandi rescues the Yorkie and, in the
process, blows the hell out of Dutch’s undercover operation.
Kandi now finds herself a person of interest in her client’s murder and her
sexy-as-hell, pain-in-the-butt neighbor is in hot pursuit of the Ninja Nun. Is
Dutch about to slap the cuffs on? Only time will tell.
Lions and tigers and skunks, oh my! Kandi Cain’s a psychic
pet detective. Her cases range from wrangling baby goats, to finding lost
critters. Her current case is rescuing a lion from a Nigerian warlord. Kandi
knew dressing up as a demonic clown and walking a lion down a city street would
freak people out. But, wow! She didn’t expect Armageddon.
The hot as hell Detective Dutch Callaghan’s on her trail again and showing more
than a professional interest. Kandi’s talents have attracted the attention of a
CIA black ops agent who wants her to steal twelve endangered white tigers from
a Pakistani warlord. The mission’s crucial to prevent a terrorist attack.
Wait! What? Terrorists? What had she gotten herself into? Kandi wasn’t a
superhero. She couldn’t bend steel with her bare hands, and she wasn’t faster
than a speeding bullet. She’s Doctor Doolittle. She talks to the animals and
occasionally the dead.
Howdy. My name is Gail Koger and once upon a time I was a
9-1-1 dispatcher. Too many years of wild requests, screwy questions, bizarre
behavior and outrageous demands have left me with a permanent twitch and an
uncontrollable craving for chocolate. I took up writing science fiction romance
to keep from killing people. So far, it has worked.
Sharon Buchbinder is here to tell us about Secrets of the Cryptids, Cowboys and Cryptids book 1, paranormal romance, romantasy.
There's also a great giveaway.
________________________
She never belonged
to the pack—until fate led her to him.
Secrets of the
Cryptids
Cowboys and Cryptids Book 1
by Sharon Buchbinder
Genre: Paranormal Romance, Romantasy
She never belonged to
the pack—until fate led her to him.
Cybersecurity expert Hayil Rufus Rose has spent her life hiding one impossible
truth: she’s a werewolf who has never shifted, a failure by her pack’s rules
and a woman on the brink of exile. A solo hike in Glacier National Park is
meant to clear her head—but instead, a chance meeting with Will Penn, a guarded
federal agent with powerful instincts and secrets of his own, changes
everything.
As Hayil becomes entangled in a missing persons case involving Will’s brother,
she uncovers corruption, cartel money laundering, and violence threatening the
Blackfeet Nation. She forms an unexpected bond with a Bigfoot family, who are
not monsters, but an ancient people who recognize her latent power. Through
trauma, loyalty, and near‑fatal danger, Hayil finally undergoes her full
transformation, claiming her identity at last.
Secrets of the Cryptids launches a thrilling paranormal romance
series about found family, fierce hearts, and the courage it takes to become
who you were always meant to be.
Hayil had the advantage of
excellent night vision—super vision compared to other humans. Plus, she
possessed an almost uncanny ability to connect with most wild and domestic
animals. Hayil mentally grimaced. She could also thank her grandmother
for her long overdue ability to shift. What would it take to trigger her body
into the lupine version of herself? Was it like a growth spurt that hadn’t hit
her body yet? Or was Hayil destined to remain the one person in her pack who
wasn’t able to wolf out?
Once again, her mother’s
constant refrain came back to her: “You’re a late bloomer, like your
grandmother. She was older than you when she shifted. All in good time.
You’ll see.”
Sure, Mom.
Hayil knew her mother
wanted the best for her, but found her cheerfulness a bit forced. Beneath her
mother’s optimism, Hayil sensed an undercurrent of concern about her
thirty-year-old daughter’s ability to integrate into the red wolf clan. This
missing piece of Hayil’s identity called to her like a siren’s song, demanding
she complete herself. Would she ever be a true part of the pack? Or
would she forever be the unmated one? What then? She was an anomaly, something
the pack didn’t tolerate well. Tradition dictated that if a pack member didn’t
shift by the end of their third decade, they were banished.
A chilling thought struck
Hayil mid-stride.
If I don’t
shift this year, will they force me out of the pack?
They were the only family
she’d ever known. Her mother would fight for her to stay and would probably
win. But at what cost?
Hayil would be an outcast.
She’d never be invited to pack meetings, deliberations or celebrations. Those
were reserved for shifters. If she married a non-shifter, the pack would drive
her out, of that she was sure. What if her offspring were able to shift? Would
that make things better? Would the pack let her stay then? It wasn’t as if she
could go to a genetic counselor and ask for a DNA test for werewolves.
The thought of losing her
extended family through no fault of her own made her gulp back tears. Angry at
herself for allowing her thoughts to go down that dark rabbit hole, Hayil
reminded herself she was a scientist. Review the facts, not the fears.
Fact one: Grandma had been
in labor with Hayil’s mother when she’d shifted for the first time.
Fact two: The majority of
the pack members had shifted when they’d hit puberty.
Fact three: Hormones! It
had to be related to hormones! The rush of hormones at puberty and the flood of
pregnancy hormones had to be related somehow.
Hayil was long past puberty
and the associated mood swings and acne, thank you very much. She was not ready
to be pregnant. For starters, she would need a romantic partner in her life.
She’d had zero luck on that score so far.
“I still have time. It’s
not too late. I won’t give up hope.”
Shaking her head to clear
her mind, Hayil double-checked her wild animal deterrents. All in place.
Then she tugged her knit cap down over her ears and pulled her hands-free
headlamp into place. She zipped her fleece jacket against the breeze and
adjusted her twenty-five-pound backpack. With an altitude gain of almost
nineteen hundred feet, she planned to take her time, pacing herself for the
strenuous four-hour hike. She grasped her lightweight hiking poles and took a
last look up at the stars. Time to see that spectacular view at the top.
As promised by the trail
blog, the dirt path was well maintained. The morning air was cold and crisp,
layered with the woodsy scent of damp earth and pine needles. An owl hooted,
and Hayil spotted movement in the brush between the thick pines beside the trail.
Her headlamp reflected in the eyes of small critters, all of whom skittered
deeper into the woods.
For three hours, all she
heard was the crunch of her hiking boots on dirt and gravel, the rasp of her
own breaths, the glug of water when she drank and the jingle of her bear bells.
She looked at yet another incline on the trail and decided she needed a hiking
song for inspiration.
“Country roads, take me
home,” she sang, belting out “Mountain Mama”—and something crashed through the
bushes ahead on the trail. Something large.
She froze.
An enormous black bear
stood on its hind legs at the top of the hill.
Shit,
shit, shit. If only I could shift, shift, shift!
The animal had its back to
her, but if it got her scent, it could turn and charge at her in a flash.
Heart pounding like a
jackhammer, she placed her hand on the bear spray.
A breeze sprang up, making
her eyes water with its intensity. The good news was that it meant she was
downwind of the bear. The bad news was that the air smelled like a wet dog had
rolled in a dead animal. The worst news was that the bear turned and looked
right at her.
Omigod.
It’s not a bear. What the heck is it?
Sharon Buchbinder is an award-winning author who has been
writing stories since she could hold a pen. The paranormal romance genre is her
writing home, a place where the impossible is simply the beginning, where women
find their power in the most extraordinary circumstances, and where love is
always worth the danger of seeking it.
A Maryland-based author with a background in healthcare and
higher education that has informed her vivid, grounded storytelling, Sharon is
drawn to heroines who have been underestimated — women who carry something
extraordinary inside them and spend the whole book learning to trust it. Sharon
believes passionately that readers deserve stories where the heroine doesn’t
just survive — she transforms. When she’s not writing, Sharon can
usually be found unplugging in her garden, obsessing over cryptid mythology,
and convincing her pets they are not, in fact, supernatural.
Isabella Jordan is here to tell us about Egyptian Lovers, a dark paranormal romance.
Read on for details...
________________________
Dark Paranormal Romance
Date Published: July 31, 2026
Publisher: Changeling Press
In the desert sands of Egypt, three lovers battle a maniacal curse. Only
their love can save them.
Half vampire, half sphinx, Kahma roams the deserts of Egypt, praying for death
-- until his lost love returns, reincarnated as archeologist Emma Bonham. But
to fulfill the passion Kahma offers, Emma must part with her life.
Fascinated by the tale of Emma Bonham’s disappearance some eighty years
ago, Carson Bonham comes to Egypt to unravel the mystery. But the bloody
carnage of Karnak’s history has a way of repeating itself. The struggle
to keep Carson alive will be a death defying act for the powerful vampire
Sopdet.
Alexis Peters has no intention of returning to Egypt, until a mysterious dream
lover promises endless pleasure if she will just return to him. Little does
Alexis know she’s bound to her Egyptian savior, the legendary sphinx,
Amenhotep…
Publisher's Note: Egyptian Lovers Box Set contains the previously released
novellas Kahma, Sopdet, and Ardeth & Amenhotep.
Excerpt from Kahma
Abydos, Egypt
November 1926
Emma Bonham moaned and writhed with Corey Dunham's head between her thighs and
his strong hands holding her against his busy mouth. His tongue speared deep
into her moist opening, thrusting like a cock and she moaned again, but more
for his benefit than from the pleasure she couldn't focus on. Slurping, wet
noises filled Emma's small tent as she played along, trying to relax into a
good fuck.
She just couldn't.
Emma closed her eyes and sighed blissfully at what she hoped were believable
intervals as Corey's tongue fucked her. It was so hard to focus. Her mind had
been spinning since they'd finally reached Abydos that evening, the most
sacred site in all of Egypt.
Abydos. Emma had spent much of her life longing to see the ancient necropolis
and the famous tombs there. Tombs of ancient kings, temples of ancient gods.
Her hips left the ground as Corey's fingers played with her half-swollen clit.
Corey did have nice hands and fingers and he knew just what to do with them.
He'd been her lover for several months now. They'd met when he'd joined the
expedition that her Aunt Elspeth coordinated back in London. Corey had been on
a few expeditions to Egypt before, though his experience wasn't vast. He had
more than enough experience in bed for Emma, who'd had no experiences before
Corey. Emma had been as curious about sex as everything else, perpetual
student that she was and Corey more than satisfied her curiosity on a number
of carnal acts. She was attracted to him, trusted him.
Emma wasn't in love with Corey by any means. She liked him immensely. Corey
was an attentive, considerate lover and Emma enjoyed their lovemaking.
Normally.
"You taste so damn good, Emma." Corey slid a finger into her pussy to replace
his darting tongue. "I want you to come for me."
The heavy canvas of the tent rippled as the strong winds whipped around it in
the desert beyond. It was just one more thing to break Emma's concentration.
She began to wonder if a sandstorm was coming. Emma also wondered if she'd
ever see a sandstorm. Emma could play along and fake it but she didn't want to
do that to Corey. Sighing, Emma pulled herself up, surprising Corey enough
that he pulled his fingers from her sheath. Before she could say anything, a
desperate cry ripped open the tranquility of the night.
"Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
The frantic male cry had Corey, who was mostly dressed, on his feet and Emma
scrambling to find her discarded robe. Pulling it on as fast as she could,
Emma stayed right on Corey's heels as he sped out of the tent. Naked beneath
the robe she held tightly to herself and with her hair flying wildly about
her, Emma struggled to keep up with him as he raced toward the tent of Alan
Burns, the expedition leader and her friend. The rest of their group had
already gathered there.
Peering over the shoulder of Alice Henderson, one of the artists in their
expedition, Emma spotted the group's writer kneeling over Alan's unmoving body
in the sand. Frantically, Daniel Woods pressed his fingers to Alan's throat,
searching for signs of life.
"He's dead," Daniel announced, his face stricken.
A bolt of shock and fear shot through Emma. Alan was dead? How could that be?
Emma was as fond of the kind older gentleman as her Aunt Elspeth. If not for
him, Emma's aunt would never have allowed her to go on the expedition. Her
aunt's confidence in Alan Burns and his vast knowledge of Egypt and all its
sites had won out in the end. That and the man's solemn promise to her aunt
that he'd watch over Emma and keep her safe.
Tears stung the back of Emma's eyes. This is horrible.
Alice started to sob quietly in front of Emma while Corey pushed his way past
the others and into the tent. Emma watched as Corey joined Daniel in searching
the fallen man's body for any clues as to what had killed him. The wind ripped
at Emma's robe and hair from where she stood just outside the tent as tears
slid down her face. Holding her breath just like the others, she waited.
Corey's features turned hard and he pointed to the older man's ankle.
"What is it?" Emma called out to Corey.
Corey seemed not to hear her at first. He started searching the sand around
him, his eyes round and filled with alarm.
"A snake bite." Corey's green eyes met Emma's. "It looks like an asp bite.
What an asp is doing out here, I don't know. They usually stick to the shrubs
and hillsides. They are not desert dwellers."
"Perhaps it got into Alan's bags in Cairo," Daniel suggested.
Corey nodded. "It's possible."
"Dear God in Heaven." Alice, with her stout little body, took a step back and
bumped into Emma. "It could still be here."
All eyes flew to the ground, searching the sand in the dim light provided by
the fires that burned inside the circle of their tents.
"Watch your step." Corey's voice took on a more authoritative tone as he met
the eyes of each of the remaining members of the group in turn. "Be mindful of
this. Check your blankets before you go to sleep and check your clothing
before you put it on. Reach into your bags with caution."
Dashing out of the tent and to her side, Corey gently took Emma's arm. "I'll
see you to your tent."
With Alan gone, Corey had to take charge now. Emma easily read the tension in
the hard set of his face, felt it in the hand that lightly gripped her arm.
Corey was older than her, but still young, only in his late twenties. He'd
never led an expedition before. He'd told her that he'd never been to Abydos
before either. All that considered, he still had more experience in exploring
Egypt than anyone else in the group.
Corey gently turned her to face him when they reached her tent. With gentle
fingers, he brushed at the tears on her face.
"I am sorry about Alan." Corey pulled her into his arms, holding her against
his hard, warm body. "I wish I could stay here with you, but I can't. I, at
least, want to know where you are and that you're safe. Emma, be careful and
try to get some rest."
Emma was vaguely aware of his hands smoothing her hair, the warm kisses he
dropped on her head. She didn't even care that he was holding her in such a
familiar way in plain sight of the others. Surely, they had to know Corey was
her lover by now.
Yet, so many emotions gripped her heart with a tightly closed fist. She'd just
lost a dear friend. If that weren't bad enough, they'd also lost the one
person in the expedition who'd been to Abydos before and knew how to get back.
How to survive here...
What will become of us now?
Corey pulled back to gaze down into her face, his expression grave. "Go to
your tent now, Emma. Try to rest."
Emma nodded, not envying Corey the position in which he now found himself. Now
he was responsible for the remaining six expedition members: three artists, a
writer, an organizer and Emma.
�"What will we do now?" Emma gently brushed a lock of his brown hair from his
creased forehead.
"First we have to take care of Alan," Corey explained. "We'll talk about the
rest in the morning."
Brushing her lips with the lightest of kisses, Corey turned and headed back to
the dead man's tent. Emma watched him, her heart heavy in her chest.
An image of Alan Burns' gentle smile flashed in her mind. When he smiled he
had always reminded her of her father who'd died when she was just a child. He
had taken on the role of father figure to Emma as she'd gotten to know him
over the years. She was going to miss Alan, and Aunt Elspeth would be
devastated when she learned of his death.
Little chance she'd get any rest this night.
A strong wind blew Emma off balance before she could enter her tent, stinging
her skin lightly with grains of sand. She stumbled but didn't fall as the air
whistled around her body in the strangest way.
Being a native of London, Emma was used to cold winds that chilled a person to
their bones and made them shiver for hours. This was something else entirely.
This wind was hot and moved across her skin like a lover's hand, touching her.
That was the only way to describe it. A warm rush of wind penetrated the thin
fabric of her robe and blew between her thighs, causing her own intimate scent
to rise up and fill the air around her. Emma gasped at the unexpected way her
body responded as the wind moved all about her, the way her clit began to
throb. Emma's nipples beaded hard and her skin tingled all over her body.
Then Emma heard a gentle voice on the wind as the air swirled around the
sensitive flesh of her throat, blew through her hair. A deep male voice.
Senin.
As quickly as the wind had risen it was gone, leaving Emma standing there
shaken and lost just outside of her tent. Had she just imagined that? Was her
mind playing tricks on her in her grief?
Or had the wind really coveted her body like a lover?
Pulling the thin robe tightly about herself, Emma climbed into her tent and
willed her limbs to stop shaking.
About the Author
Isabella Jordan is the alter ego of an otherwise stressed out web designer,
programmer, and internet junkie. When she's not trying to perfect her own
personal caffeine IV drip, she enjoys spending time with her family, doing
volunteer work, and writing. She loves creating new stories of all kinds and
chatting with readers and friends.
