Monday, June 1, 2015

Little Blue Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf

I was asked to write my own little fable as part of the 2015 Fantastic Fables at Dark Faerie Tales, and I was really tickled with the results. Here's the story again, featuring Noah and Sophia from Heart Mates.

HuntingWolf
Once upon a time, witch princess Sophia Blue skipped along a path through the big forest, her heavenly blue cloak floating like a cape. She carried a basket of goodies to her little old grandma who lived in a cottage deep in the woods.

Well, not quite. At twenty-six, Sophia didn’t skip so much as powerwalk. And her cloak was really a banker-chic navy pantsuit. And her little old relative was her Aunt Linda, herself a witch.

But those are simply details, interchangeable scarves and belts on the little black dress of our Fantastic Fable.

As Sophia powerwalked along the wooded path, she swung her basket, thinking of how her dear aunt would enjoy the gooey chocolate chip cookies inside, baked fresh that morning—in the bank where Sophia worked. As penance for a terrible mistake, Sophia had given up her magic and embraced the life of a mundane.

So Sophia didn’t see the dark shape filtering between trees, following her.

*     *     *

Alpha wolf shifter Noah glided after the beguiling female, following her exotic scent like a dog on the trail of kibbles. Or rather, as an alpha wolf scenting a possible mate. He didn’t know who the female was, but as he ran to get ahead of her, he was stunned motionless by the most amazing eyes. Star-shot blue, like the moon sparkling on a warm sea dazzled him over a strong nose, pure skin, kissable lips…she’d passed him again.

The woman lifted the basket and did a little spin. “I just know Aunt Linda will love these cookies.”
Noah had heard of Linda Blue—she was a witch. He didn’t trust witches. Witches had killed his mother and nearly killed him. But he was desperate to meet the beguiling young woman, so he shifted to wolf, an alpha’s easy morph with his clothes shifting inside with his human, and ran ahead to Blue’s little cottage in the woods.

Nestled deep in the forest was a snug bungalow. At the round little door, Noah shifted back and raised his hand to knock.

The door flung open in his face. A kindly apple-cheeked woman peered up at him. Blue eyes opened wide and the little old woman gasped.

Scared? Noah winced. His big black wolf must still be bleeding through his human form. He’d never scare a woman, so he scrunched his eyes in concentration, willing the powerful beast to fade…

“Oh, aren’t you a good-looking wolf?”

His eyes flew open.

Linda Blue wasn’t scared. She was grinning in delight.

A plump, beringed hand grabbed his arm. “Well, what are you waiting for. Come in, come in.”

She yanked him inside—by tooth and claw, the woman was strong—continuing to natter. “You’re the new alpha, aren’t you? Unmated to boot! And guess who’s coming here? My little niece Sophia, a princess and unmarried too. You should go on a date!”

“Ms. Blue, I’m not here for a blind date—although I do want to meet your niece.”

“Oh, yes of course. We can do that” She smiled cherubically as she dragged him into a smaller room. “Just climb into bed.”

What?” He blinked from a raised old-fashioned four-poster back to Blue.

The little old witch’s cheeks pinked and she finally let go. “Well, how else can nature take its course?”

“Ms. Blue, that’s totally inappropriate.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair.

“Not if a mommy and a daddy love each other very much—”

“Ms. Blue!”

“Hmm.” She tapped a plump finger against her lips, costume jewelry clacking. “You’ll apparently need a bit of ‘convincing’. Okay. One for the money, two for the show.”

“Aunt Linda?” Sophia called through the cottage front door in her lovely alto. “I have cookies!”

Noah closed his eyes and a smile drifted onto his lips. He could listen to that voice forever…

“Three to get ready—”

So he didn’t see the witch’s wind up, and only felt her wallop him with a spell. “And four to go!”
Magic hit him like a blast of electricity, shocking him numb, then burrowing into every cell in his body. “What was that…?”

Something fluttered against his bare feet. His eyes snapped open, and he glanced down.

He was wearing a sack-like ruffled nightgown. His hand rose to his head…an equally ruffled dust cap was on his head.

Damn witches. Never trust a witch.

“Oops.” Linda tittered. “That wasn’t quite the spell I meant, but it’ll do. You’d better get under the covers.” She hooked a foot behind his knee and shoved him until he stumbled and fell onto the bed.
She shooped underneath.

“Auntie, where are you?” The beautiful Sophia came into the bedroom. Seeing Noah, her star-shot eyes widened.

They really are the most beguiling blue…

“Aunt Linda? Um, what big ears you have.”

“Huh?” was all Noah could think to say. His voice came out half growl, and he saw for the first time that the hands atop the nightgown were covered in a large amount of black hair.

By his fangs and claws. He was partially shifted.

A fist punched him from under the mattress.

“Um, all the better to hear you with?” He gazed at Sophia’s lovely skin and lips…he felt a stupid grin float onto his face.

She startled. Swallowed hard. “What big teeth you have.”

He snapped his snout shut. Damn, what part of half-shifted had he forgotten?

Another poke of the mattress made him growl. Enough was enough, accident prone spell caster or no. He rolled over the edge of the bed and snarled under it, “I am not saying ‘All the better to eat you with.’ That’s just spouting a line from a bad porno. Change me back.”

“I can’t.” In the dark under the bed, Blue twiddled her fingers and grinned innocently.

“Fine. I’ll have to do it the natural way.” He leaped to his hairy feet and tried to shift. He was an alpha and normally could do it almost instantly, but the spell had screwed something up. He couldn’t shift human so he tried wolf. He closed his eyes and rearranged, his black hair running down his body like rapidly laying overlapping roof shingles, his limbs flowing forward and down, his face extending, ears sliding up.

In less time than it took to think it, a huge black wolf stood in his place.

Sophia gasped, eyes wide in both fear and wonder.

He’d never scare a woman, much less one who might be his mate. He clamped eyes and practically forced his cells to shift human.

Again the spell interfered. Normally his clothes shifted out with his human form.

This time, when he opened his eyes, he’d shifted back naked.

Sophia’s jaw dropped. Then she swallowed hard and licked her luscious lips. “You’re…quite muscled.”

Shifters weren’t body conscious and he preened. “Thanks. You’re quite beautiful.”

“Oh. Um, thanks.”

“I’d like to get to know you better.”

“So would I.” She set the cookies down by the bed. A plump, beringed hand snaked out and snared them. “But you have to get dressed.”

“I can do that.”

After he dressed, they walked out, hand in hand, Linda beaming behind them.

And they all lived happily ever after.

The End

Monday, March 30, 2015

Serendipity Bites excerpt--a non-piratical R

Serendipity Bites
Part of the April Fools For Love collection
Biting Love Short Bites, Book 4

Best April Fools joke ever—falling in love.
AmazonB&N
Coming soon to more vendors!


Serendipity “Sera” Braun wears glasses and a bun to teach during the day, but at night, she adds a breast-plumping vest and dirndl for her job hoisting beer steins at Nieman’s. The big, leather-vest-and-earringed Viking bouncer? He’s bedsheets waiting to get sweaty, but all he does is scowl at her. She’s trying to keep her geriatric stripper of a granny from breaking a hip, but it’s hard when she keeps getting distracted by that sexy, smoky baritone.

Thorvald Thorsson is bitingly lonely—every vampire around him is mating. But his ex-fiancĂ©e rejected him as a killjoy (her exact words were he ate rules and s*** misery), so it’s high time Fun Thor comes out to play. No way he’d pair up with the cute but too-serious little schoolmarm who waits tables at the bar.

Sera bridles the wicked, delicious things she’d like to do with the muscular Viking, suppressing herself until she’s a volcano about to blow. Then they are thrown together in a prank war, and all his potent masculinity is focused on her. He makes her burn to let loose, but how can she and still be responsible for Granny and set a good example?

Warning: A terribly lonely vampire, a conflicted schoolmarm with a caged wild side, nosy roommates and the female version of a bromance, not to mention scorching sex, swearing with the **** filled in, a whole town full of busybodies—and the best April Fools joke ever.

This story contains material intended for mature audiences. Reader discretion advised.

Biting Serendipity
© 2015 Mary Hughes
Enjoy the following excerpt for Biting Serendipity:

My boss Camille leaned against the open door of the women’s restroom, tapping one impatient foot.
We hustled into the narrow, tiled room smelling of pine disinfectant and lime-and-coconut foaming soap.
Shutting the door, she came right to the point. “Our motto is Sexy And Fun. In the spirit of Fun, I’ve entered Nieman’s into the annual citywide April Fools’ Day competition.”
“That’s nice,” Thor said in a tone of voice that I’d use for snaking hair-clogged drains.
“Nice,” I echoed feebly.
April First in Meiers Corners was like New Years Eve in the rest of the world. Tons of people went out, did things they’d never do the rest of the year, and made utter asses out of themselves. The more sober townsfolk cringed at the antics and stayed home. But enough pranksters would be out, trying to get their video into the haloed winner’s circle, that I’d planned to call in sick to work and lock myself in my bedroom with a good book until it was all over.
 “I’m so glad you think it’s nice, because I’ve entered the you two.” She jabbed an index finger at me and Thor.
That finger could have been an icicle, jabbing me in the gut. “No. No way. That competition is for the most outrageous prankster. That’s not me.” Me, outrageous? These days, I colored so much within the lines, I felt weird smudging my eyeliner.
“Not me, either.” Thor flashed palms like stop signs. “Camille, I tried before and…let’s just say it didn’t work out.” Somehow, he made “Didn’t-work-out” sound like “Ti-tan-ic”.
The finger came out again, jab-jab. “Look, Not-Me and Not-Me-Either. I hired extra help to grow my customer base. The winning prank gets played at the award ceremony and covered in the paper—basically, free citywide advertising. So we win, we grow. We don’t win, we don’t grow, and I don’t need help. Capiche?
“But why us?” I exchanged another baffled glance with Thor, getting the same combination of zing and reassurance.
“Because you both need to loosen up and show more Sexy And Fun. Besides, no one else is available. Consider this incentive to prove to me that you have the right va-voom to be at Nieman’s. Win the April Fools’ Day competition—or you’re fired.”
My insides iced.
Camille sailed out, leaving Thor and me riveted in place, staring after her, shocked like we’d just had cattle prod enemas.
This was a disaster. Me, play a joke? And not just any trick, but a winning prank in a city of master pranksters?
Thor groaned. “It’s March twenty-ninth. How does she expect me to come up with a gag in three days?”
“We don’t stand a chance.” Now I groaned too. Maybe I could’ve done it when I was a kid, but, like Scrooge visited by the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come, I’d had a change of heart—although in my case, I’d been visited by the Kangaroo of Karma. Monkeyshines were no longer part of my life.
“We?” Thor said.
Slowly, he and I turned to face each other. I use the phrase “face each other” loosely. With me in my barmaid flats and him in his boots, he stood nearly a foot above me.
But his expression…it wasn’t the usual faint disapproval, but a stunned disbelief—strangely tinged with what almost looked like yearning.
He actually wanted to do this?
Then he gave a sharp shake of the head. “Ridiculous. She couldn’t have designed worse partners.”
That stung. “Hey.”
“I didn’t mean…” His mouth tightened.
I jumped in before he could pound in yet again what a killjoy I was for a little old lady just trying to have some fun. “My mistake. No we about it. Camille only said we had to do this, she didn’t say we had to work together.” My chin jutted.
“Don’t.” Thor growled, low in his throat. “We can work together. All I meant was neither one of us is into pranks.”
“Right.” I heard killjoy.
“Look, I’m just saying I’ve entered this contest before, and I didn’t stand a chance even when I had a fun partner.”
“A fun partner?” What was I, chopped obligation?
“All I mean is that it takes a sort of daredevil mentality to win. It’s not like either of us has a single adventurous bone in our bodies.”
“Keep talking.” The night had turned sour. “Reinforces just how much you don’t want to work with me.”
He looked away. “I want to work with you.”
His mouth said yes but every other stunning body part underlined no.
“Right. And all the sniping we do has nothing to do with our mutual dislike.”
I knew it was a mistake the moment it left my lips.
His gaze swung back. “Mutual dislike?” His eyes were like arctic storms. Angry?
Or hurt?
“You know what I mean. You’re always on my case about Granny.”
“Just because I don’t agree with how you treat Ms. Butt doesn’t mean…fuck. Doesn’t matter. Camille ordered us to do this, so we do this.” He jerked one shoulder in a shrug.
The sleeveless T-shirt and leather vest meant what shrugged was bronzed, naked skin, muscles jerking, especially luscious triple-scoop deltoids that I wanted to lick.
Wanted to lick so bad, to keep myself from doing it, I had to run my tongue over my suddenly throbbing lips instead.
His gaze dropped to my mouth and darkened, stormy this time like a steamy tropical squall. “What are you doing?”
“M-me?” Nerves prompted me to lick again. “Just…nothing.”
He leaned closer, his hair swaying forward to frame his chiseled, handsome face. “Nothing?” His pupils dilated to pools of black.
My heart shot into overdrive. Air seemed to have left the small room; contrarily, what there was of it smelled, not of lime and coconut, but leather and male.
Searching my gaze, he reached out and gently cupped my chin. His fingers, warm and slightly rough on my skin, thrilled me down to my toes. His face was so near mine now I could feel the heat of his breath on my skin.
He’s going to kiss me.
My lips parted on quickened breaths. My desire must have shone in my eyes because the saucers of his pupils lit with a red flame. Blood pounded in my ears.
The vampire was staring at me.
Insanely, that turned me on. I tightened toes in my ballerina flats and lifted toward him.
The moment crystallized between us. His red gaze was tethered to mine, the hand that so gently held my face was crowned by a hint of talon, and when his lips parted, fang tips were revealed.
Vampire, human. I was prey. Yet I was also something precious. My lids slid shut in anticipation.
His mouth captured mine.

 

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Special PARTY ONLY excerpt!


Assassins Bite (Biting Love, Book 8)
Only her light can burn away his shadows.

On her first night as a police officer, Sunny Ruffles takes down three felons…only to be attacked by a gang of vampires who are a whole new level of hurt.

Then a mysterious shadow man intervenes, saving Sunny before he disappears. She runs after him, telling herself her pursuit has nothing to do with his sharp, stubbled jaw, his powerful shoulders, or his sexy-as-hell, kissable lips.

Rescuing the humans makes Aiden Blackthorne late for a critical meeting with the vampire Nosferatu’s daughter. Yet clompy, bumbling Sunny draws him back like wild honey. He kisses her, and he’s almost got her down to her underwear when a bomb meant for him explodes.

The last thing Aiden wants is to drag Sunny into his hellish conflict with Nosferatu. But Aiden’s a loner whose only friend has mysteriously disappeared, and the woman who smells and tastes like his mate is the only backup he has left. He’ll need her, everything he is, everything he was—and everything he might have been—to defeat his evil master and claim the love he never dared hope to have.

Warning: This book contains shadowy assassins shooping off vampire heads, cops bumbling in at the worst of times, and opposites attracting, colliding, and exploding in lust—a.k.a., explicit fighting, humor, and sex.

*     *     *
 
I had less than an hour to clean myself up before Captain Titus arrived. That wasn’t quite enough time to go home and come back—at least, not if Mom was awake and talking—so I went to the restroom. I’d been at the MCPD before so I knew where they were. I put on my jacket and shirt to walk there. I wasn’t shy or particularly modest, but I didn’t like offending anyone else’s sense of propriety.

I regretted that decision. The cut blouse was no protection and each step rubbed scratchy wool against my poor skin. By the time I got to the restroom I was biting back whimpers, my eyes stinging with tears.

The first floor ladies was three stalls, scarred wood countertop, sink and mirror. Various sticky notes decorated the mirror, including a couple that read “Glock For Sale. Retired officer, rarely used. Contact Blatzky”. I stood in front of the mirror, peering at what showed of my pale, round face as I opened the buttons and peeled off wool and cotton. I set the shirt and jacket on the sink.

My chest was red and raw. Smeared blood streaked my skin. No wonder it hurt so much.

“Nasty.” Behind me, a shadow separated from the gunmetal-gray stall doors.

“Crap!” I spun. Aiden Blackthorne was right on top of me, his eyes burning. I swallowed hard. Inanely, I said, “Can I help you?”

The corners of his lips turned up, making me want to grab him by the ears and scuba dive. He said, “I want to help you.”

My experience with people trying to help was my mother baking brownies for my GirlGroup Troop, treats which sent us all running for the bathroom because she’d substituted sauerkraut for sugar because they both began with S. Not that I was doing so well on my own, but the pain made me whiny and he got the brunt of it. “Nobody can help me. Have you paid your parking ticket?”

“I have ten days.” His head tilted as he considered me. “Let me treat your wounds.”

I coughed. “No thanks. You’re not supposed to use ointment for burns—”

“Not ointment. This.” He seized my wrists. I was so surprised I let him lift my arms up and away from my body, exposing my chest to whatever he wanted to do. Which was to drop his head, open his mouth…and lick me, one broad swipe across the length of my collarbones.

My pain…lifted. Just along that swatch, so I knew it wasn’t coincidence. My belly fluttered. He had a magic tongue?

He licked again, and though his hot, rasping tongue should have been excruciating, it was lovely, exhilarating. As he continued licking, my pain melted away.

Gradually I became aware of how intimate this was. His rough tongue, the heat and moisture of his mouth, excited me—and he was heading lower. In a few more swipes he’d be tonguing the tops of my breasts. My belly thrilled at the thought.

So when he released my wrists, I slid my fingers into his black hair, thick and strong yet silky warm, and urged him to go lower. Faster. “More.” I moaned it.

With a satisfied growl, he complied, swiping heat into the valley between my breasts.
I sighed in pleasure and lifted my breasts, encouraging him to do more, again. My flesh tightened in anticipation.

But he raised his head and looked me in the eye, an unspoken question in his. How far did I want him to go?

In response I smiled. As far as you want.

He made a small, choked noise and dashed to the bathroom door. Before I could panic, he flipped a shiny-new thumb lock with an urgent click and stood before me again almost instantly.

That revved me hotter.

Cupping my chin, he asked another question with eyes gone velvety black. Are you sure?

I didn’t know what this hot attraction between us meant, or if it was more than physical—after all, how permanent could an assassin get with a cop?

But for now? I nodded and smiled again.

With a sigh, he reached around and unhooked my bra with one quick flip. His eyes flicked over my revealed breasts as he tossed the bra onto the counter. Before I could wonder how interesting he’d find my small, tight body, his gaze went nova. “You’re perfect.” He bent, grasped my breasts, one in each hand, and lifted them to his mouth.

It was hard, hot and fast. As if he wanted to devour them both at once, he kissed and licked and sucked nipples in quick turn. Whichever breast he wasn’t lavishing with attention he stimulated with his thumb.

I gasped. His kisses were hot; his suckling was incendiary. His fingers were extraordinarily strong and clever. I’d been with older boys—these were a man’s hands fondling me, strong and sure. I closed my eyes and savored.

He finally settled on my left breast and suckled the nipple until it was diamond-hard with longing. My fingers threaded into his hair again and tightened in response to each tug, until I was practically pulling his hair out by the roots. All he did was make a tiny sound, half-pain, half-bliss.

He kept suckling. Each draw on my nipple yanked a silken cord of need deep inside. The sensations came closer together, hotter, deeper, until I was churning with them. My belly was heavy, my lips swollen, my legs yielding and my skin screaming to shed the rest of my clothes. All that, just from suckling.

My mouth ached with the need to suck on him in return. My fingers were still tight in his hair so I wrenched on his head, trying to lift him from my breast, to get my hands under his shirt and peel it off over his head.

He made another small sound, an uh-uh of undeniable not slowing, and continued to suckle.

With the last of my willpower I reached over his bent head, grabbed his sleeveless T-shirt as far back as I could and started winching it toward his neck.

I’d made about two inches of headway, barely enough to expose the small of his back, when the suckling drove me completely insane. I gave a throttled shriek and tried to rip the shirt off.

He chuckled. With a see-you-soon lick to my ripe nipple, he straightened and finished what I’d inadequately started, stripping himself of the shirt even faster than last time.

My eyes drank their fill. If he was a vampire it didn’t show in his skin, a sun-drenched bronze. His nipples were tight and dark. His chest was smooth and hairless. I reached for it.

He tossed his shirt on top of my bra and reached for me at the same time. As I palmed his pectorals, he crushed me to him. My breasts and palms flattened against male flesh, its warm scent filling my every quickened breath. He grabbed my mouth in a searing kiss and his taste filled me. I basked in him, touch, scent and taste, meeting his mouth and clutching his chest and rippling against him with the need for even more.

Opening his hands on my back, he went exploring, gliding along my skin until he met the thick wool of my trousers.

If I thought that would stop him, I didn’t know him very well. His hands continued to glide down, rubbing the cloth over my buttocks, then grasping me and pulling me into him. My hips met a large, firm and growing bulge. He backed off on the kiss, his tongue flicking and teasing. Now he was trying to go slower, but I wasn’t having any of that.

I stood on tiptoes and went after his mouth, thrusting my tongue between his lips and rubbing my hands over him, feeling the pinpricks of his nipples roll under my palms.

He huffed, and his teasing tongue got serious, diving back into my mouth to claim me. I thrust my tongue in return, finding much more of him to deal with. Lips that were thin but sexy when viewed were exquisite acres when tasting and licking.

He pushed a hand between us and for a moment I thought he was still trying to slow things down and moaned my protest. But a couple wags of those clever fingers managed to undo my belt and pants. The uniform slacks slid languidly open for him and coyly slipped off my hips.

With a satisfied purr, he opened one hand on the base of my spine to hold me in place—and thrust the other down the front of my panties.

I gasped.

His fingers unerringly found my clitoris, the bud already rising to meet them. I groaned. He stroked. His purr became more pronounced. He stroked again, and again, setting up a good hard rhythm. I whimpered. His purr became a rumble that shook my ribs.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him like I was going to mate his mouth. My naked breasts rubbed against his torso as he beat fingers against me. His hips rocked hungrily in the same rhythm. I dropped a hand to try to open his pants too.

He raised his mouth from mine. “Not yet. Don’t touch me, I’m too aroused. You first.”

It took my breath away.

He lifted me by the waist and swung me toward the wall. I thought maybe he was going to smash me against it but he set me on the broad tiled ledge under the window. He pulled my pants off over my cop black shoes and socks. Not very alluring—until he stepped between my legs. He looked damned good between my thighs.

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