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RED SAGE PUBLISHING, INC. :: * * * PAPERBACK :: SECRETS VOLUME 19 TIMELESS PASSIONS Saskia Walker, Kathleen Scott, R. Ellen Ferare, Elisa Adams (Paperback)
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SECRETS VOLUME 19 TIMELESS PASSIONS Trade Paperback Copyright © Saskia Walker, Kathleen Scott, R. Ellen Ferare, Elisa Adams, 2006 All Rights Reserved, RED SAGE PUBLISHING, INC. Listen to what reviewers have to say: Red Sage Publishing’s Secrets Volumes have long been, to me, a defining presence in the romantica/hot and steamy genre. Always willing to take a chance on new and talented authors, the Secrets Anthologies have set a very high bar and continue to reach it time and time again. Their newest release SECRETS VOLUME 19 is a nice mix of paranormal genres: werewolves, science fiction, and magic. Kick back, relax and get ready for some well written hot reads!!!! ~Reviewed by Sarah Silversmith Vol. 19: "This is an eclectic mix of titles with plenty here to entertain all tastes. The heat and chemistry for all the couples is sexy and at time sweet and tender. All four authors provide fine short stories perfect for the quick read. The authors entertain while not making the reader feel as if they’ve been cheated by short word count. Ménage, time travel, historical and contemporary elements are all present." ~Romantic Times BOOKreviews, Kristi Ahlers Red Sage Publishing has once again brought together a group of talented authors to create a book filled with tales that will make your temperature rise. Have a glass of ice water handy, as it’s never a good idea to become overheated. :-) Get your copy of SECRETS VOLUME 19 today, and enjoy a variety of short stories perfectly written to help you escape from the real world if only for a little while. ~Romance Reviews Today, Lori Ann WHAT YOU WISH FOR - SASKIA WALKER EXCERPT: That night Lucy's dream was vivid. Even though it was weighted with sleep, her skin hummed with anticipation. She moved beyond it and floated through the ether. She felt as if she were traveling, seeking him again. Rolling restlessly, she wandered in the mists of her dream world, her body alive with sensation, tossed from need to want and cast up on the shores of desire. Breathless, she sensed his presence move closer through the swirling mists. She clutched at the pillows, desperate for release. He was tantalizingly near, his handsome face looming over her, his eyes wild as he watched her. His breath moved across her skin, drawing a moan from her lips. A voice murmured her name. She reached for him, but he drew back, as if leading her. She struggled to follow, her will to find him fighting leaden limbs to reach out. She saw him walking ahead of her, reached out and touched his back. He stopped walking, began to turn. Then, through the mists, she heard voices in conversation. There were voices on the stairs. She wakened with a start, pushing back the sheet and sitting bolt upright. There was someone in the house. Burglars! Her heart rate shot up instantly, the blood rushing in her ears. She strained to hear, leaning forward on the bed. Sure enough, she heard another floorboard creak. Then, incredibly, a voice boomed out. “Be on your way, Nathaniel, and thank you for your hospitality. I’ll send you word of my whereabouts when I’m settled.” What in hell’s name was going on? The back of her neck prickled with tension, the palms of her hands fast growing damp. She pushed back her hair and tried to make sense of what she was hearing. It had to be burglars and there seemed to be at least two men, but they were chuckling and talking to each other in a very strange way. What the hell were they doing in her house? She climbed out of bed and crept across the floor so that she could hear more clearly. Moonlight carved a passage across the room and she went to step past it but froze when a board beneath her foot creaked. Dammit. She stopped dead. “Five years will turn over soon enough and I’ll do all I can to clear your name in preparation for your return. Until then, safe travel aboard the Gloriana. Rest well and take this purse.” The sound of disagreement followed. “Take it, please. Take these few small gifts to speed your passage. You’ll be comfortable here, oh and I left you a flask of rum and some food to be sure of it.” There was laughter and a mumbled thank you. “Just be clear of the house before mid-morn. The servant girl comes up from the town and I didn’t have time to tell her anyone would be taking rest here.” “Aye,” came the reply. “I’ll need to be on the look out for the Gloriana by then.” The sound of mutual backslapping reached her, and then one set of footsteps faded away down the stairs. One of them was staying, that much was clear. Silently, with her breath trapped in her lungs, she waited. Downstairs, she heard the front door closing. Then another floorboard on the landing creaked and the door to her bedroom was rattled and pushed wide open. A figure stepped into the room and into the wedge of moonlight that spilled from the window, revealing the intruder to her startled gaze. It was only the man himself. The man from her dreams, tall and fierce looking, but this time he looked solid, real, and he appeared to have a weapon hanging from his belt. A sword? Could it be that he had a sword? Burglars didn’t run around chatting at the top of their voices and wearing swords, surely not – not even in eccentric old Cornwall. She had to be dreaming. Yes, she realized with a sudden sense of dizzy relief. I’m dreaming about him again, right? Nevertheless, caution had automatically taken hold of her and she stepped back into the darkness against the wall, but not quick enough and not before the intruder caught sight of her. TOYS IN THE ATTAC - R. ELLEN FERARE EXCERPT: Gabrielle walked into the hotel's attic. The middle of the room was occupied by a huge brass bed, and a tall dresser of faded oak sat against the back wall. Besides those two pieces of furniture and the necessary plumbing, the room held nothing except an object draped with a dust cloth by the bed, about four feet tall and irregularly shaped. It was hard to tell what it might be. A sculpture? The landlady noted where her gaze had fallen and smiled a slow, inscrutable smile. "Enjoy your stay. Feel free to make use of the amenities." Still smirking, she withdrew from the room. Gabrielle waited until the door was safely closed before tossing her bag onto the mattress with a sigh of relief. "That woman is creepy," she muttered. After stashing her belongings in the dresser and shoving her bag against the wall, she walked over to the only secret the room held: the odd, cloth-covered thing positioned near the bed. Curious, she reached out to see what lay underneath. Before her fingers could touch it, all the hairs on her body rose, as if static electricity, or the caress of an unseen hand, had brushed her skin. The veil of fabric slithered to the floor in a pool of white silk, and the hidden object was laid bare. It was a sculpture, as she had guessed. A sculpture like nothing she'd ever seen. She faced a life-sized statue of a man kneeling with legs spread, his head thrown back and face contorted in an expression of pleasure/pain any consenting adult would recognize. The artist had captured him at the height of his ecstasy, just as the shudders of orgasm were cording the muscles in his neck and chest. He wore nothing but his skin, and his erection was thrust forward as if clutched inside a woman. One hand was raised to cup the breast of his unseen partner, the fingers of the other curved around her invisible waist. Gabrielle could picture exactly where the woman would be: straddling him, chest to chest, thrusting with him as he climaxed. It was the most stunningly erotic thing she had ever seen. She reached out a hand to touch the muscles of his chest, and the contours felt real, though cold and metallic, as if her fingers glided over chilled skin. Even the individual strands in his shoulder-length mane had been sculpted, the down on his arms, the thatch at his groin. She closed her hand around his forearm and was amazed at the lifelike feel of it. It took no great imagination to fantasize she was touching a living body instead of a statue that was anatomically correct in every possible way. Whoever had posed for this work had been in excellent physical shape, with a body most women only dreamed of holding: muscles sculpted and defined without being overdeveloped, buttocks so perfectly formed her fingers itched to splay across them, an impressive erection that would fill a woman completely. Her mind presented her with searing images of her own body entwined in an embrace with the original model, and she sighed. The last thing her hormone-activated imagination needed was another reminder of how empty her bed was going to be tonight. The metal under her fingers grew warmer. A flare of light°©Was it light? Or heat? Or something her mind couldn't recognize, so categorized as both?°©swelled around the statue, and she blinked. Heat crept up her arm and spread through her, waking an insidious tide of desire. All of her body throbbed as if in response to a lover's caresses, and she blinked again, uncertain and a bit wary. Glittering motes of gold threaded through her thoughts, soothing away her uncertainty. You've been wanting a man, they whispered. There's one here, for you to take with no commitments, no risks. Look at him. Her gaze fixed on the statue kneeling at her feet, while her mind floated in golden fog. Before her light-muddled brain realized what the rest of her had decided, she had walked the few steps to the door and shot the deadbolt home. Her hands slowly unbuttoned her shirt as she returned to the statue, her fingers working almost of their own accord. The shirt slid to the floor. The rest of her clothes quickly followed. She approached her frozen lover completely nude, as bared to his gaze as he was to hers. FALLING STARS - KATHLEEN SCOTT Excerpt: **Caution Excerpt Intended for Readers over 18** Heartbeat and respirations were definitely not normal. Total system failure certain. Daria took what was supposed to be a deep breath, but it barely made a dent in her lack of oxygen. Death would soon come to claim her and carry her to Hialeigha. A large warm hand skimmed down her bare back. Desire shot through her and made her knees want to buckle. But she couldn’t do this. Couldn’t go through with consummating a marriage that should have been Lessia’s. At least not yet. Not now, with the memories of how the Hohn looked while bent over her sister’s casket swirled in her mind like a meteor shower. This should have been Lessia’s wedding night. All through her preparations, as Onya fussed over her hair and applied the perfect makeup to her face, a steady stream of words had marched through her mind. The semblance of a speech began to form. Before she could ever lay with the Hohn as his true wife, she would have to let him know she understood and appreciated the love he had for Lessia and would understand… “You’re frowning, princess.” “Huh?” She came out of her musings and turned to look up at him. Dark eyes glittered in anger at her. “Oh. I was just thinking about something.” “I hope you weren’t anticipating the marriage bed with such a look on your face. I would hope our first coupling would be pleasant for you.” By the Maker, she wouldn’t speak of this in a common hallway. She took a quick glance around and was happy to see no one in the halls but the two of them. “You have had lovers?” His hand caressed her back again and his breath warmed her ear. They stood in front of his quarters—their quarters—and she waited while he palmed the door opened. She gave a quick nod to indicate there had been lovers. A glance to his gauge his reaction showed none whatsoever. He probably thought her morally lacking for a wife of the Hohn. Though she had never cared what others thought of her, this was the man she was to spend the rest of her life with. Heat rushed to her face. Why was he doing this to her? Why was she letting him? It wasn’t as if she were a tender young virgin on the altar as a sacrifice. Damn it all to Hell’s Caverns and back, she was a seasoned combat pilot, time to start acting like one. If he wanted to make love to her pedigree and not her past, he could just go jump out the nearest airlock. The door slid open and they stepped inside. The appointments were nice and spacious, but Daria barely got a look at the room before she was backed up against the now closed door and the Hohn was bending his head down to her. Lips, firm but gentle, settled over hers. The Hohn sipped at her mouth, and teased it open. A moan swelled up from her throat and she felt her hands move of their own volition to caress his broad muscular shoulders. He took the sound as encouragement and took the kiss deeper, became more possessive, demanding. Strong hands clutched under her arms and lifted her higher. A thick muscular thigh wedged between her legs and held her in place. The position stunned her in its intimacy, and sent hot throbs of desire through her body to pool in her sex. His mouth devoured hers. His tongue slipped through her lips and brushed against hers. A low moan filled her mouth and tasted of his unchecked desire. His hips rocked forward, leaving her in no doubt of his desire for her. His long, thick erection rubbed against her stomach. Large hands moved down her sides, cupping her breasts, molding them to his palms. Instantly, her nipples tightened. He rocked his hips again, and his thigh slid over her already pulsing clit. If she didn’t stop the kiss now, she would drown in him. Or come. And it was definitely too soon for that. Daria pushed away from him, breaking the drugging contact of his mouth on hers. His dark eyes were heavy-lidded with lust. He rested his forehead against hers for a moment, confusing her with their combined scent. He moved his leg and she slid down the wall. She walked farther into the room, putting much needed space between them. Something about the man simply got to her on a plane so much deeper Something about the man simply got to her on a plane so much deeper than any other man she had ever known. Perhaps it was the implicit power he radiated. Energy floated around him like a force field. Raw masculinity dripped from his every movement, hot as lava and deadly as cyanide. Daria looked over her shoulder at him standing by the door. His handsome face was pulled into a slight frown, head cocked to one side. The man unsettled her, even when he did nothing more than stand across the room from her. What was more unsettling was her reaction to him. Sure she’d had lovers before, but even with Borman and Aaron she hadn’t felt this overwhelming loss of control. A vision of Raven draped across Lessia’s casket filled her mind and made her breath catch. She turned from him, unable to look in his eyes any longer. This wasn’t her husband—not really. This man before her was a hand-me-down from her older sister. She had become a wife by default. In all the years of her rebellion, she had never once envisioned herself taking a husband she knew loved another woman, especially if that woman was her sister. A hand moved down her neck, startling the images from her mind. She hadn’t heard him move from the door. “I didn’t mean to scare you. We’ll take this night slow if you prefer.” Warm breath stirred the hair at her nape before his lips settled there. Her nipples tightened painfully again under the soft fabric of her borrowed dress. She turned around to confront him. “Look, before we jump into anything physical, I think we need…” Red lights and sirens began to flash and screech overhead. “All hands to battle stations. Repeat. All hands to battle stations.” Daria moved passed the Hohn, her speech dying in her throat as her training took over and she hurried from the quarters. “Daria!” He shouted down the corridor at her as she ran toward the quad. She turned for a moment and stared at his stricken face. “I have to go. I can’t fly a fighter in this.” Dark eyes pleaded with her, though no words moved through his tightly clamped jaw. “It’s my job, Hohn. You knew that when you signed the treaty with my father and agreed with the price of my hand.” Daria wasted no more time on the one-sided argument, but hurried on to the quad to change into her flight suit. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ RED SAGE PUBLISHING, INC. © 2006 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 
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