COMING IN SEPTEMBER

Book One – Taming the Beast Series – Erotic Paranormal-Romantic Comedy

Preorder – September 5

Early Download – September 19

General Release – October 17

Blurb:

Who said sorcery and love wasn’t fun?

For Becca Salt being a witch isn’t all magic. Too curvy and lonely, she spends her nights running a makeover service for demons, vamps, weres and zombies who want to project a more human, normal side. Their goal? To get the babes without the authorities hunting them down like rabid dogs. Once Becca suppresses the worst of their beast, they’re on the hunt and gone.

Dating has been a definite bitch for Eric Diletto. Although he’s hot and hung, he’s also one of Cupid’s descendants—a god born to believe in courtship, courtesy and all that other junk. Tired of women dumping him for the bad boys, Eric hires Becca to release his inner beast. Grrrr.

Two potions later, they’re crawling all over each other. With Eric’s newfound dominance, he’s definitely the man. And the god, who intends to take Becca here, there and everywhere. Who said sorcery and love wasn’t fun?

Warning—a witchdoctor’s nightmare. Contains potions with weird side effects, a sorceress with limited magical skills and a yearning heart, plus a minor god who wants to get down and dirty. Bad, bad boy.

Excerpt:

Swearing, Becca hurried down the hall and searched for Heather. She wasn’t in the break room. There, two vampires guzzled bottles of imported blood. Their pasty skin was almost rosy from the workout they’d been through.

The guy on the left resembled a young Brad Pitt. He gave her a thumbs-up. The other one, a dead ringer for Colin Farrell, gave her the finger.

Becca pushed out her lower lip. “Tough night, huh?”

He hung his head. “This shit is so hard.”

“But worth it, right? You said you wanted that mortal babe who lives down the street from you.”

A longing groan poured from him, followed by a gentle sigh. “Unfortunately.”

Vamps were so cute when they craved a woman for companionship rather than her plasma. “Who said love would be easy?”

“It could be.” Hope shone in his pale gray eyes. “All I have to do is turn her then she’d be mine. For, like, always.”

The other vamp nodded in encouragement.

Becca got tough. “Doing that wouldn’t be playing fair. That’s why you’re here.”

Although these sorry souls could force mortals to their side for whatever they wanted, including adoration, love like that wasn’t earned. It never satisfied for long. Doing things the human way by wooing the girl and winning her over with nothing except their innate charm was more intoxicating than every power the mortal and paranormal world offered.

Becca had witnessed it first-hand with her parents. Years ago, her mom could have cast a spell to snare Wade Salt, the only man she’d ever loved, but she’d let nature take its course. Next month, they’d celebrate their thirtieth anniversary.

A sweet and lasting romance Becca would have liked for herself with a one-in-a-million guy. Wasn’t in the cards. When it came to males, she always struck out whether they were paras or human. “I would hope you’re not thinking of turning a woman against her will.”

The vamps shot guilty looks at each other.

They needed additional workouts. Becca made a mental note to have Heather book them every night next week. She pointed at their bottles. “Don’t waste a drop of that stuff. It’s expensive.”

The one on the left read the label. “Little wonder. Comes from European aristocracy.”

If that were true, then Becca was Chaz Bono and Paris Hilton’s love child. “Only the best for you guys.”

She rushed down the hall. Emblazoned on the walls was the company name, From Crud to Stud. Beneath those words the advertising motto read ‘Suppressing the Beast’.

A creature snarled from behind a door on the left.

Heather moaned and made pained noises. “Oh, no. Really no. Please no. Try to relax.”

Snapping noises answered her. Skittering sounds followed.

If Becca had to guess, Heather had put distance between herself and the guy’s teeth.

Zoe’s distinctive growl sounded from inside the room. “Stay over there.” Something slammed into the wall. Possibly her fist. “I’ll handle him.”

A wise plan since Heather was a good fairy whose only power lay in healing. She knew to wait until Zoe had muzzled the guy before fixing whatever he’d hurt.

Wanting Heather out here, Becca raised her fist to knock.

The front door swung open.

Heat and humidity poured inside, along with racket from the street party. Drunken voices mingled with throaty laughter, pounding drums and trumpets. The instruments reached and held their highest notes.

A guy slipped inside. At least six-three, he had an athlete’s build—lean and muscular, his shoulders broad, hips narrow, thighs powerful.

Becca’s pulse thumped in her ears, drowning out the other sounds. She stepped closer.

Classically handsome, he wore his hair preppy-style, longer on the top, shorter on the sides. Those locks were a warm chestnut brown streaked by the sun and tousled, begging for a woman to smooth them back.

Becca lowered her hand. She hadn’t intended to lift it.

His golden complexion spoke of days spent outdoors, perhaps from skinny-dipping in a pool, water streaming over his firm pecs and abs, the dark curls between his legs trapping the moisture, his rock-hard cock jutting out, inflexible as iron, sleek as a spear.

She suppressed a delighted shiver.

He wore leather loafers, beige khakis and a white dress shirt opened at the collar, the sleeves folded back to mid-forearm.

Masculine yet civilized.

The staff had done an outstanding job on this guy’s makeover. No wonder Zoe had suggested him for the advertising pieces. A fat raise for everyone was in order. Maybe even part ownership in this place. They’d made this dude over to the nth degree from…

Becca wasn’t certain what kind of demon he was or his level in Hell. She’d never met him before. Maybe he’d taken so long to get there because he couldn’t pull himself away from the god he now saw in his mirror.

He regarded the reception area as one would when seeing it for a first time or through different eyes…a reformed demon’s eyes. Potted plants and feathery ferns abounded. The faux brick floor, coral walls and gas wall fixtures radiated warmth and an earthy, sensual feel in keeping with the area’s culture.

It was also romantic.

That was why most paras signed up for the ordeals they’d face here. They were having problems with babes and wanted a solution, even if it was painful.

Hissing noises flowed from a room on the right. On the left, muffled groans sounded faintly sexual.

Could be that was why this guy was late. He’d already seduced a new lover and had been reluctant to leave her.

The thick ridge behind his fly held enormous promise. Some women had all the luck. Becca, on the other hand, had a business to run.

Reining in her desire, she joined him in the reception area. “Do you have any idea how late it is?”

His attention zipped over her. He lifted his eyebrows.

Becca wasn’t certain if he was surprised or amused at how unique she looked, from her flame-red hair, cut in a chin-length bob with bangs, to her dramatic makeup. Heavy black liner surrounded her blue eyes. Her maroon lipstick was a shade lighter than black and quite a contrast to her pale skin.

His attention didn’t remain on her complexion for long. He was riveted to her black silk top tied beneath her breasts, then her silver navel jewelry, then her black harem pants, anklets, toe rings and high-heel sandals.

Even at five-seven, and with the extra three inches the shoes gave her, Becca felt dainty next to him. Quite a feat, considering she’d always been too tall and curvy. In school, they’d called her the f-word.

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