The Wolfen Lover is now available at www.amirapress.com

Here is another free excerpt from my new novella!





The Wolfen Lover Excerpt

With a sigh, Laina rose to her feet. She crossed the floor of her bedroom to throw open the window, watching the pale crescent moon in the sky. She gathered a bundle that contained another dress and cloak about her waist, and she went to the window. She stepped onto the windowpane, crouched, and pushed herself out into the crisp, dark air. The familiar joy of flight filled every corner of her lonely heart. I cannot stay, she told herself. I am one of them, but I feel like a stranger, and I would rather be alone forever than be here among the destroyers.

Laina loved to fly, as high as she could. She circled the great forest and found her target, the caves where the wolves made their lair. She started at the edge of the forest, determined to find the Wolfen kind who were men and women by day and to feel their magic.

She knew it was dangerous, but she did not care, for what could immortality bring but a lack of fear and discretion? She landed gently on the cold forest floor, her robes swirling around her slim body, and she went to the first cave she saw, moving as silently as a ghost.

Laina would grow hungry and need shelter from the sun in just a few hours, but for now, she was free. She peeked into caves, and she listened, and she tried to sense the wolves where they lay in slumber. She found a few empty caves that seemed to carry an animal scent, but she saw no signs of their pack. Wandering free, she wondered if her mother and father had watched her flight and if they would let her be or seek vengeance.

She found the cave in the early morning, when it was still dark, and she tiptoed in, watching flames dance against the walls. A great wolf, all alone, slept by the fire, his body moving restlessly. She knew he was Wolfen because his silvery color was pure and distinct and set him apart from other wolves.

Fear and excitement filled her heart as she watched him sleep, so fitfully, with his head hidden from her view. She knew his eyes would be beautiful, and she longed to stroke his pelt in the warmth of the dancing flames.

He is so large and beautiful, she thought, moving closer to his body. If he woke, he would attack her, but she did not worry. She could simply rise into the air and out of the cave like a great bird. She went to him, until she was very close, so close she could touch him. She marveled at the softness of him.

She felt some joy in her heart because she had always dreamed of touching a Wolfen creature, and although she could not say for sure, this wolf seemed to be male. She wondered with rapt curiosity how he would look in the growing daylight when she must hide. What would he do if he woke as a man and discovered her in his private lair? She imagined his eyes, his animal eyes, running all along the length of her body, appraising her. What would it feel like to be the subject of his Wolfen gaze? Would I be frightened, or excited?

She sat close to him and wondered if the other young ones were dead, if he was the only one left now. She was certain he was one of the young ones, now almost grown. Wolves grew fast, and she knew he must have witnessed the terrible attack her parents had waged. Staring down at him, she focused her thoughts on him, almost willing him to awaken. She could feel the strong energy of his body as it rose and fell with each breath.

As dawn neared, she grew indecisive, watching him stir a little. She could still find other shelter if she left now, but she did not want to leave him. She felt certain he would change soon. How could she deprive herself of this, her only dream! I must see him as a man, she thought wildly. I want to see another magical being who is not one of the clan, like me!

Dawn came and knew her answer—she would rather risk his attack than leave this place, which made her feel so alive, so . . . human. She began to murmur to him, so gently. She made sure her voice was alluring and comforting. The wolf stirred, small noises of pain echoing in the large cave, and he began to writhe under her hands. She stepped away, just a little, and waited, excitement churning in her belly.

As she backed into the shadows, he changed, writhing on the pelts he slept upon, groaning in a voice rich with pain and suffering. His body seemed to blur as the magic took hold, and it seemed only seconds until the limbs of a man emerged, and the silver-grey of his fur turned to smooth, bronzed skin.

Even the cave smelled different now, a human smell she knew so well, the smell of warm, fragrant human blood, the most delicious of all. She watched his eyes open, feeling joy she had never before experienced. The sky was lightening, but it was dark here in the corner, and she would be able to observe him until he chose to attack her. He would notice her scent soon, the alluring mixture of flowers and warm skin that mimicked the human. It helped her to entice her victims, especially the men, but it would also alarm him, and there was no way he would not sense her presence.

He stood, stretching his long limbs in the cave, his body naked and perfect. His smooth shoulders seemed to be carved as perfectly as those of a statue created by a master sculptor. His hair was dark, like hers, but his skin looked so warm, so . . . succulent. His eyes were silver-grey, with flashes of blue, and her own eyes widened at his beauty, for she had never, even among her own beautiful kind, seen such perfection of coloring and feature. His chiseled face was a study in angular, masculine beauty, and his soft, reddened lips seemed to cry out to be kissed.

She looked down, staring at his strong, muscled legs, so much longer than hers, for she was petite, and he must be a foot taller than she. She could not help but notice the hardened cock that stood out from his body, and she felt her thoughts grow hot. She had not been with a human, but she knew what they did. She had seen them, when she was out hunting for prey. She had come upon couples of all sorts, men thrusting into women, moaning in pleasure.

She felt her own body grow warm in the cold cave, where the fire was turning to ash as he reached for some rough clothes that hung upon a branch. He looked around him, moving with animal grace as he pulled on a tunic and pants and rough brown boots. He is like a prince, she thought, sighing, running her hands over her body, feeling her nipples harden. I want him to touch me, to love me . . .

Sneak Peek - The Wolfen Lover

Hi everyone!

I'm excited to announce that my vampire/shifter romance, The Wolfen Lover, is being released on April 17th. This story is soft, sensual and romantic...with some spicy erotic elements. Here is an excerpt from The Wolfen Lover...


Chapter One

Michael moved restlessly in his sleep. He thrashed in the dim cave where he lay. The nightmares that haunted him each and every night made his body spasm. He twisted in misery, held captive by his dark dreams.

He dreamed of his pack and the night they were attacked. He moaned, emitting a low, animal sound, and he thrashed upon the pelts and leaves that were his bed.His nightmare took him back to that terrible night, when he had lost the ones he loved the most. And he began to cry in his sleep - not for the first time.

Michael woke from his terrible dreams just before the dawn. He opened his eyes to slits, watching the fire he had lit in the late evening turn to ashes. The night skies outside the cave were black and starless, and he closed his eyes for a moment as loneliness and despair overwhelmed him. For a long time, Michael had been alone, so alone. The inky expanse of night sky seemed to plunge him deeper into sadness.

Michael lay by the dying fire, and he opened his eyes and stretched out upon his pallet. I am always alone, he thought. Day or night, it is always the same. He had left his tribe some time after the attack, when the vampire clan descended upon the Wolfen cave and destroyed their peaceful existence forever. He knew no visitors would come to ease his solitude, for all the creatures of the forest feared him now. They know I'm dangerous, he thought, and he rose and began to prowl the cave. His thick muscles ached from another tortured sleep, and only movement helped to ease the pain.

The fire was ashes now. Michael noticed the walls of the cave seemed painted with strange shadows, which seemed to cast mysterious images over the cold stone, like clouds moving through a stormy sky.

Michael hated the nightmares. He could see his mother's face, her soft fur streaked with blood. He could hear the cries of the wounded. Every night they died again, and every night he could only watch helplessly, just as he had on that macabre All Hallows Eve. I was young, he thought angrily. I was too young to defend them, and now they are dead. Michael had cowered in the back of the cave with the other young wolves. They were hidden in darkness, and the others held him back from running out to fight the vampires. He would always hate them for that.

Michael had other dreams, too, at times - disturbing dreams. He dreamed of mating, and he would wake up aching with the desire to share his body, and his heart, with another. He would arise each morning, draw warmth from the rising sun, and he would be a man again. For each morning, he awoke a young man and not a wolf, and he never made peace with his own magical nature.

Michael sat down on his pallet as dawn drew closer. The cave was cold now, an icy chamber. He groaned in pain as the change began, his sleek coat turning to warm, golden flesh, his animal limbs lengthening and becoming the lean, taut limbs of a human.
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Thanks so much for having a look. I hope everyone is having a fun holiday weekend :)

Tessa
http://tessalaneerotica.blogspot.com/

Free Excerpt - Of The Blood

Of the Blood Excerpt


I never dreamed I could feel alive again. The time had long since passed when I could remember the feeling of hot blood rushing to my face, of hands that trembled within my robes. And then I saw her . . . her warm honey eyes; her soft, creamy skin; her burnished auburn hair.

I was undead, long undead, but still I felt the passions of a man as I wandered forward, down the dark lane where she stood rummaging about in her small fabric bag. She pulled out a mirror, old and shabby, and gazed at herself under a burning lamp. She stood, coolly appraising her own face, and rearranged a lock of hair, tucking it behind one ear.

I waited. Time seemed to move faster as I drank in the lines of her young body, as agile as a dancer. I could see the swell of her breasts under her bodice, and the way the fabric clung at her hips emphasized their roundness. She was slim but voluptuous, and as I stared at her, hidden from her view, I wondered why she affected me so differently from the others.

She’s vain, I thought, amused. I felt a surge of pleasure as I pictured her at home in her bedroom, preening in front of a mirror. She knows she is beautiful, and she glories in it. I was certain. I looked down at my own clothes, my perfect suit and waistcoat, my polished shoes. We are the same sort, both of us. But I am undead, and she is soft and warm, and so young.

I longed to take her right there and to swoop down upon her like a great bird. I would kiss the ivory swell of her breasts where they rose and fell as she drew breath. I would inhale the fresh scent of wildflowers, and I would run my hands down the length of her, feel the flesh under her gown, feel her plush bottom against my palm. I would hold her tight, so tight, and cover her mouth with my own so that she could not cry out. Then I would drag her down to the grass where it was dark and pull up her skirts in one, rough gesture. I would fall on her and give in to my passion, the passion so long gone from me, which made me feel like a man once more.

I wanted to drink, of course—to taste. But I would wait until I’d had my fill of her, of her body. Then, I would take everything.

You can read the rest of this story for only 2.50 at Amira Press