Friday, October 14, 2016

{ AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT ~ Mason Sabre }


⭐️⭐️⭐️ AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT ⭐️⭐️⭐️



Mason Sabre Bio
It’s all about me, me, me….
The about me page…ha!
Who am I? Does it matter so much? I could be anyone; after all, I am a fiction writer ;)
Let me see…I am a writer. I write things, not always good or interesting things, but things nonetheless.  Feel free to contact me for obituary scribbling….the person doesn’t even have to be dead, it could just be in the planning stages.
What else?
I am English, this means…well I actually write in English, so I put lots of U’s in my words like they should be, although I don’t drink tea, vile stuff really, I like coffee, black, strong and like tar.
I was resurrected in the year 1976. Not that I was dead before, I just was…
I like rock music and thriller movies, have GSOH, WLTM…..wait…wrong about me page.
I’m crazy and I write books, just read them. That is all. *Smirk*

Mason’s author page Amazon UK http://tinyurl.com/masonuk
Mason’s author page Amazon US http://tinyurl.com/masonus
  
Here are my social media sites where you can stalk me, follow me, poke me, prod me and generally bug me ;)

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⭐️⭐️⭐️ AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT ⭐️⭐️⭐️



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Cuts Like An Angel – by Mason Sabre & Lucian Bane

He never called the helplines. The one time he did, it was to say goodbye ... to anybody, before leaving the world. Rosie … that was her name. She’d given it when she wasn’t supposed to. She said things that made him burn to live. 

And he would. He’d find a way to hide his darkness so that he could dance with her, just a single dance, in the liquid sunshine of her laugh. 

And maybe … maybe he’d taste her. But only once.




Cuts Like An Angel
PRE-ORDER LINKS: Prices vary per country 


Snippet from Cuts Like An Angel
**“You don’t need to do this.” Rosie fought down the tremble in her voice with the anonymous caller. “And don’t you dare hang up again. I mean it.”
After many seconds, he whispered, “Or what?”
She shot up out of her chair. “Or … I will be very angry. And hurt,” she dared, no longer caring about how many professional lines she’d crossed. “I mean it. Tell me your name. I told you mine, now I want to know yours.”
“Rosie,” he finally whispered, like he pitied her. “Promise me you will be good to yourself. And not blame yourself. Promise me you will dream good dreams and make them come true.”
“I will not make that promise,” she declared, pacing. “And you will not hang up. You will do the right thing and march yourself to a hospital and get help.” She paused her steps and waited in the silence with her hand over her mouth, feeling his fingers slipping from her grasp.
“You’re crying,” he murmured in quiet awe.
Shit. She wiped her face with her arm. “Yes, I am,” she admitted with a nod. “It’s just … you have to believe me when I say there is hope. There is always a way … you just have to fight. God damn it,” she whispered, “what is your name?” If she could get that, she was sure it would give her more leverage.
“Rosie.” His voice broke in sadness, like he’d done all of that a thousand times over and was sorry—sorry none of them had worked. But sorry for her, not himself.
“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid,” she said softly. “That you will wait until tomorrow before you do anything and that you will not hurt yourself. Promise me that.”
The line clicked. 

SNIPPET:
The rain was heavy against the window, but the rat-a-tat-tat was more rhythmic than annoying. It had a calming facet to it. William watched the droplets on the glass as they slid down idly, like tiny water warriors on the glass. One droplet landed, clinging until the one above lost its grip and slid down the window pane, taking others with it. Sometimes a new droplet would land directly onto the one clinging for presence, for its space, the territory that belonged to it—only for a moment. Like people in his life … coming, going, never really clinging on.
The rain—Mother Nature’s song if anyone cared to listen, the music of her heart. Rain water falling, echoes in the otherwise silent night. The rain fell from the drains at the edge of the roof, the guttering overwhelmed from all the storms they’d had recently. The night almost cried for him—tears that he could no longer weep himself. Tears for the boy under the stairs.
The water flowed, echoing into the empty alleyway below at the side of the house—tiny tin drums of nature’s orchestra. 

In the garden, his mother’s tulips held cups of water, bowing only when overburdened by the weight of it and then spilling over.
The notes of the night song played through the darkness, and soothed William’s skin. He raised his arm, staring at it with the moonlight that came in through the window. He traced his fingertips along each cut, some new, some old—all of them holding the invitation to play in mother nature’s band. He could bring the painful edge to the music, the part of the song that made you cry.




Watch Over You: A Fantasy Romance
Three years after her husband’s death, Tara Saunders is still unable to move on. Guilt holds her hostage, and she knows that she can never forgive herself for causing Eric’s death. When Tara meets Devan, a homeless man who seems to have been linked to Eric in some way, she decides to follow him. Desperate to find some connection with her late husband, Tara seeks it through Devan, but the truth that he holds is not one that Tara is willing to accept. As Tara inches closer to the truth, an invisible clock begins ticking …

Watch Over You

Snippets from Watch Over You
**But then there are other stories that go back even more. To the Romans and the Greeks. The swallow is one of the birds of Aphrodite, the goddess of love. It is said that the swallow carries the souls of lost loved ones and takes them to the other side. Some even believe the swallow leads the soul to rebirth too.”
“Which one do you believe?” Devan slid his fingers under her chin and lifted her face to his. Her eyes were closed and much too heavy for her to care to open them. She was almost asleep standing there in his arms. “All of them,” he breathed, and then he kissed her again. Softly this time. Not exploring, just his mouth against hers. She could feel his eyes on her as his lips slid over hers. 
“Why is it on your hand?” she asked against his mouth. 
“It’s there so that I can carry a soul,” he said. Just as it is on your hand now too.” 

**In a move so sudden it left her gasping for breath, he grabbed her and spun her around, bringing her back against a hard wall of muscle. One arm encircled her chest while the other slid around her waist, immobilising her. Shock kept her frozen and she didn’t think to fight him. 
“Tell me what you see,” he whispered against her ear. 
She looked out into the hall; it was no longer empty. Her eyes widened and tears welled up, threatening to spill once more. “He’s right there,” she breathed, reaching out her hand. She tried to walk forwards, but Devan’s grip on her tightened.
“I need to go to him.”
“Stay here,” he whispered. “What do you see?”
“He’s right there. He’s painting. He looks happy.” She watched as Eric sat in front of a canvas, unaware of her presence. He tilted his head to the side to get a better view of what he was painting. Stretching out his arm with his paint brush, he used it as a gage for size, closing one eye so that he could get a better idea. She shoved and yanked at Devan’s arms until he let go. She ran across the room and came to an abrupt halt when she reached Eric. He seemed to look right through her. Unable to stop herself, she reached out, desperate to touch him once more. But Eric’s face was no longer his own. It was Devan’s. She gasped and snatched her hand back.

** She shook her head and tried to pull free. With a sudden oath, he captured her face, holding it firm between his hands, and planted his mouth hard against hers. He kissed her the way he wanted to - hungry and needing. Like a man who had been starving for three years…and he had. He kissed away every fear she had. Every thought that made her more scared than the last. He kissed her so hard that all she would be able to think about was him and only him. He kissed her the way he had wanted to that day at the cemetery. He growled in satisfaction when he felt her melt against him. “Do you feel that Tara?” he asked gruffly when he released her mouth. “Do you feel me inside your mind?”
She nodded.
“I’m not like them. I promise. I can't explain it to you right now, but I need for you to trust me. Can you do that?”
She didn’t answer.
“I won’t let them hurt you. Whatever happens, okay?” He caught her hand in his again and then pressed their joined hands over her heart. “Do you feel your heartbeat? You feel me in there? You have to trust me. Your heart trusts me.” Taking hold of her other hand, he pressed it over his heart. “Do you feel my heart beating?”
She nodded again and whispered. “Yes.”
“Close your eyes Tara. Feel our heartbeats. Do you feel them?”
They drummed together. Two hearts beating as one.
She opened her eyes slowly, calmer. “How is that possible?”
“I promise to you that I will explain. I can't right now. We have to leave. Trust me?”
She gave a weak nod and he let go of her hands, certain this time that she would not run away.

Exile: A Society Book (no release date or blurb, coming soon)
Snippets from Exile
**Destination Exile, execution, and then the main parade of yet another Other dead for the Humans to drink, cheer and relish in their own sickening stench of humanity. How fantastic for them. He hoped that his body melted in such a way when he was executed that the stench would stay in their nasal cavities for a few hours, but that the image of his insides pouring out would stay with them for years to come. The wondrous mental impressions of Stephen Davies. He tsked in his mind. Nick Mason—he hadn't had time to become accustomed to his new identity yet. His father’s desperate attempt to save his life. What a fuck-up that turned out to be.

**Stephen didn’t want to hurt her as he held her, the frailty of her bones making him cautious. There was no weight to her. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and he raised a hand to stroke her hair as he stared at the empty shell she had left on the floor in the corner. Small and broken, she had no need for it any longer. 
Stephen closed his eyes. It was her time. Her pain was gone, her suffering over. “It’s okay for you to go now,” he said quietly as he held her close. 
“I’m with you.”

**Something moved in the far corner of the cell. Stephen leaned forward to get a better look. On the ground, where he had just crawled from, lay the pitiful remnants of a small child. The tiny body lay in the dirt, dark curls of hair covering her dirt-smeared face. Her eyes were open and she watched Stephen, every ounce of pain that she had endured reflected in them.



Broken Snow: A Society Novella 

Money hunters. That’s what they call them. A bunch of underground vigilantes sweeping the area for anyone out of curfew or breaking the law. 


Mel Morris, a snow leopard and self-proclaimed recluse, finds herself in more trouble than she can imagine. All she was doing was heading to town for supplies ... but ... catching the eye of one of the money hunters' spotters, Mel walks into a danger that she didn't realise had been following her all along. 

There’s a secret, though. These money hunters aren’t just looking for criminals … they were looking for her. A shifter caught in a race, and she is the prize.


Broken Snow


Snippets for Broken Snow
** Mel readied herself. She was fucked if he was going to get another shot in.  Her guts ached from where he had just hit her, and she was sure she could easily vomit again.  But she was not a quitter. She had to be smarter than him. He was big, tough, and stronger than her. She was small, but she was faster than him. She mirrored his pose, scrambling into a squatting position. 
“Oh, gutsy,” he sniggered before lurching to his feet abruptly and thundering forward. As he reached her, his big arm came up, ready to swing at Mel.  But she was ready for him this time. She ducked, twisting herself into the gap between his legs and slamming her fist into his balls. It never mattered how big a man was - hit him there and he was going down. Ant howled and clutched his crotch, knees bucking. The crowd around them roared with laughter. 
Xander clapped, delighted.  “Nice one, Snow. Bravo.”

** He leaned in even closer, his scent getting stronger. His leopard was there, as was hers. Her canines pushed against her lips and she fought not to fall into him. His hot breath grazed the side of her neck and Mel felt herself melting. A low growl sounded in his throat, before he opened his mouth, lightly scraping his teeth along the column of her throat, then gently nipping the sensitive flesh. Mel let out a little whimper and gripped his hand tighter.

“Nigel … stop,” she whispered.
She felt him smile against her. “Make me. Show me you don’t want this.”
He slid his other hand up along her back, and wrapped his strong hand around the back of her neck, holding her in place—proprietarily. He squeezed, bringing a growl from her own throat and making her throb between her legs. No. This wasn’t going to happen. But then he nipped along her neck, to her collarbone, gripping tighter with his hand, and Mel realised was in danger of completely losing her senses. 
**:  Mel inhaled deeply, her senses alive. The scent of him as the steam rolled out of the shower was enough to drive her fucking crazy. She covered her eyes with her hands and resisted the urge to scream in frustration. This wasn’t how it was meant to be. Nothing was. As if she had become possessed with this deep need to watch him, she let her hands drop once more. He rubbed soap into his short brown hair, lathering it up and she watched as the suds rolled down his strong back. Jesus Christ, this was so wrong. She followed the trail of soap as the water washed it down … down to the dip in his back, across the firm cheeks of his backside. Her breathing grew more ragged and her lips parted involuntarily. Her leopardpushing thoughts into her mind that she didn’t want to entertain. She had resigned herself to the fact that she would have no one; it was better that way. 
Even while she reminded herself of that, Mel’s canines descended as heat seared her body, igniting all the parts of her that she tried to keep tempered. She was fighting a losing battle, and Nigel wasn’t helping the situation. His rich scent called to her leopard. What would his skin feel like under her hands? Warm, firm … slick from the soap? Mel swallowed hard and tried to focus her mind. 
** The arm around her middle grazed the underside of her breasts with each small motion as he lathered her hair. The tips of her breasts tightened, straining for more contact. God, she hoped he couldn’t see. She imagined his hands moving up to cup the full weight of her breasts, his fingers teasing the hard, sensitive points. Mel’s breathing grew heavy and heat washed through her, a hunger more intense than anything she had ever known igniting deep inside her. He stiffened behind her, his breathing growing harsh. 
Colour stained her cheeks. Oh god, could he smell her arousal? 
His thumb moved so that it lightly scraped the firm flesh under her breast. Mel bit her lip and swallowed a moan. The hand washing her hair stopped, and he hesitated for a moment. She knew she should move away now, knew she had to get away from his touch, but she couldn’t move. 

Death Awakening: A Society Novella 


They call it Moon-Night. 


The night when the moon rises high in the sky, fully visible for all to see, is the time Humans venture outside in hopes of catching a glimpse of Others for their personal entertainment—shifters transformed, strange dark creatures, all answering the call of the moon. 

Yvette is a vampire who works in a bar owned by a panther shifter called Raven. It is one of the few bars in their community in which Others and Humans can mingle. Restless shifters, blood lusting vampires, supercilious Humans … the night is filled with them. 

But what happens when the doors close tonight? What long-buried evil awaits Yvette? A dark force will awaken—one that will change her life, and those of the people around her. 




Forever.


Death Awakening


Snippets for Death Awakening
** Yvette gripped onto the edge of the rubbish cart, panting, calming herself, hungering for the delicious scent of fear-fuelled blood. It called to her, echoing through her veins. A fucking delicacy ready for her to take. Blood pumped in her temples, flushing her vision with crimson hunger, urging her forward to the frightened girl. Time slowed down. The edge of the cart twisted in Yvette’s grip—the only thing keeping the girl safe at that very moment. She bowed her head, resisting the desire to drop to her knees and sink her fangs into the girl’s delectably bleeding flesh. A guttural cry tore from her. To take this girl’s life. To relish in the taste of her sweet blood. To drink. To feel the life flowing into her.  One sip, that was all. One moment of sinking her teeth into that perfect fine flesh...
Stop it. Stop it. 
This was a delicacy that she would not take. She wouldn’t. 
She couldn’t….

** The creature licked along her skin with a dry, bristly tongue, like sandpaper across her skin. Yvette braced herself as she watched his lips curl back and his fangs extend. With a hiss, he gripped her arm tightly and pierced her flesh. Yvette gasped, the sharp pain from the bite quickly subsiding and turning into a feeling of such exquisite ecstasy that Yvette’s eyes rolled back in her head. Troy was the only vampire to have ever bitten Yvette after her maker. Only he had shared blood in moments of intimacy. The bite, the giving of life, it was something close to orgasmic between them. Yvette let her head fall back in pleasure. So much power flowed through her veins, stealing her words, her thoughts, and her entire sense of being from her. He could drain her right now, and she wouldn’t fight it. She would die in his arms happy and content. Maybe the Humans had, too, she thought vaguely through a hazy bliss.

He drank from her, long and deep, creating a wholeness inside her that she couldn’t understand. Unable to keep her eyes open, she gave herself over to the ecstasy that she had only ever experienced with her husband.
When he had finished, he licked across the two small wounds and sealed them. Then, placing a small kiss on her wrist, he let go of her arm. She tried to look at him, but her mind was delirious and drunk on whatever he had done, her body weak. He lowered her to the ground, leaning her against the cold stone that held his coffin. “Thank you,” he said. His voice was thicker now, deeper words that fitted a man much younger than the rotting corpse she had encountered. She blinked long and hard, trying to focus herself. “You will heal in a moment.”


** The moon was a damn flashlight in the sky, not only illuminating the way for forbidden travellers, who bravely trekked through the darkness, but it also brought out the crazy ones—the Humans, the wannabes. The place throbbed with them. Maggots oozing out of the woodwork and dropping their shit on the newly polished floor. Yvette’s glare landed on each of them in turn. Their pulses raced, pounding in time with the music, calling to Yvette—sirens in the sea of people. A dangerous temptation that was more trouble than it was worth. Her fangs pierced the inside of her bottom lip, as she inhaled a calming breath. 

Mistake … big mistake. 
The scents of cheap perfume, liquor, and the ever greedy Humans swirled in the air—a lusty aroma of femininity pervaded the room. Girls ready for boys, turned on by the fear of not just the darkness, but what the darkness held. Yvette pulled a tray filled with glasses from the washer under the counter and dumped it onto the bar, the glasses clanging against each other and steam rolling into the air, hiding the idiots from her sight for a moment. It was always this way when the moon was full. Humansthinking it great to head out to bars and mingle with the Otherkind.
** Yvette had heard the stories about him. But as she was learning, stories were not always true. The fact that he was meant to be dead, yet stood before her right now, was a sure sign of how shit got twisted. But still the tales of the man who had owned this house crept into her mind. Most tales and myths started at truth somewhere. It was just a case of understanding which parts of his story were real. It was said that years ago, the man living here had started out poor. He had worked on the farmland that connected to this house. One day, while Henry was out working in the fields and his wife was tending to their home, she had let in two weary travellers and fed them. They had paid her back by attacking and killing her. It was said that Henry had come home to find his wife barely alive, half eaten by shifters. She had died in his arms, his last promise to her being that he would make them pay for what they had done.
She watched him now and wondered if she could blame him. It was never so easy to judge what one would do in times of such pain. What would she have done if she had come home and found Troy dead? Would she have sought revenge? Everything inside her screamed yes. That was why he had turned vampire. He had needed to be strong so that he could hunt and kill the men who had murdered his wife. But the problem was, or so it was said, that he didn’t stop there. The man—Henry—had gone mad. He had waged war on all shifters, killing all he came across. Women, children, it didn’t matter. 

Hidden: A Society Book 


In a world divided between Humans and Others—a breed of shifters—certain rules are set that cannot be broken. Yet, between these two worlds are the strays, outcasts who no longer have a place in the world of Others. Cathy and Jeff, a couple long cast aside, run a free clinic for those Society has rejected. They seek to do what is right and help those who find themselves out in the cold, alone and forsaken, as they once were. 


What happens, however, when the shifter who saved their lives calls to collect the debt he is owed? A pregnant shifter is coming their way and not only must they help deliver the baby, but they need to commit the most heinous crime that could be perpetrated against two young parents. Cathy and Jeff must steal their newborn baby. 

The choice is theirs, but the wrong decision could mean the life they have fought years to build for themselves being snatched away by the very one who helped give it to them in the first place. Powerful in the world of shifters, he is a force to be reckoned with. 

Do they choose to save their own lives, or do they sacrifice themselves for the life of an illegitimate child?

Hidden



Snippets from Hidden
**“We did everything we could.” 
Cade went to speak, but there was no sound. His mouth was moving as the words sank in, and he understood what she was saying. He shook his head, motioning with his hands the soundless words that refused to come out. Cathy put her hands to her mouth to stop from crying out as she watched him begin to crumble in front of her. 
Stephen swore and went for Cade as his legs began to give way. He dropped onto his knees on the cold, tiled floor, everything crashing inside and out. He caught Cade as he lurched forwards, wrapping big arms around him. Cade clutched at his head and howled, the sound gut-wrenching. Cathy had to look away from them and put her hands to her ears to muffle the sounds. She couldn’t stand it. She couldn’t hear his cries as his grief began to consume him. Stephen held onto him fiercely, not letting his friend fall to the ground. He held him as he hollered his pain out.

**“We don’t think about it. We do what we need to do and tomorrow we wake up like normal. Think about what he did for us if you must think about anything.”
“I've been trying. It’s just…”
“Hard. I know.” Jeff kissed the side of Cathy’s face, his warm lips against her cool skin. She lifted a hand to rest on his arm that was across her chest. She pressed her mouth down and kissed him lightly. His skin was softer now, it had softened with age, but he was still strong. She still felt safe in his arms. They had been married for as many years as they owed this favour. This favour was why they were married and not dead. The man was the reason they had their children. “It’s like sacrificing the girl’s future for all the years we have had.”
“It depends on his reasons.”

“Can there be good reasons?”




Dark Veil: A Society Book 
For the past two years, Cade MacDonald and Gemma Davies have been forced to hide their illicit affair from the Other world, where mating with a species different to your own defies every law and mandate of Society. Considered an indefensible act, it is punishable by banishment from their community, or even worse, by death. However, Cade and Gemma experience a bond few ever do, wolf and tiger connecting deeply and irrevocably. Against all odds, their relationship flourishes and solidifies despite the difficulties. 


Yet now, they suddenly find themselves faced with obstacles and danger they could never have imagined. Not only is their relationship and place in Society at stake, but their lives—as well as those close to them—are at risk. Their enemies are many, and the battles they need to overcome seemingly insurmountable. Will they be able to defeat their adversaries, and more importantly, will their love manage to prevail above all else?


Dark Veil 


Snippets from Dark Veil
**He stopped just short of her, and before she had the chance to react in any way, his arms slid around her waist and drew her hard against the solid steel of his chest. His mouth came down on hers and, just like that, she was lost. 
He didn’t break their kiss as he pulled her into his office, kissing her with such hunger that it called to her tiger, pulling it from the depths of her soul. His lips were warm against hers, sweet with a hint of coffee that still lingered there. She moaned into the kiss, welcoming the feel of stubble against her skin—she slowly lost all resolve. She held onto him, dragging him closer as her fingers dug into the hard muscle of his shoulders. Her breathing became ragged as his hands moved up and found the top button to her blouse. He flicked it open and then worked his way down. When his fingers touched her skin, she sucked in a shuddering breath and dug her nails into his back. Oh, god. She knew she had to stop him now or there would be no going back. 
“Cade,” she breathed against his mouth. “Cade …”
He wasn’t listening, though. He moved from her mouth, trailing kisses along her neck, sucking and biting as he went. Her mind threatened to make an exit at the pleasure that invaded her senses. She clutched at his shirt with tight fists. 
Cade, please. I need to talk to you.”
His fingers froze and his head lifted so he could look at her. His eyes searched hers and she tried to blink away the tears that suddenly sprang forward. He frowned and all at once his hands were gently cupping her face. “Gem?”
The tone of his voice, the concern on his face—it was enough. She leaned into him and buried her face in his chest, unable to hold back her tears any longer. Selfishly, she held onto him as she sobbed. 
“What’s wrong?” He held her tightly, the wolf needing to protect his mate. 
She pressed her face into his chest and pressed closer, wishing she could just melt into him. His heart thudded in his chest, its rhythm calming her somewhat. She felt like such a liar. She was about to break his heart, but she was using him for her own comfort first. His hard chest rose and fell in tandem with his breathing. His concern was evident, and she clung onto him as if he would vanish with the next breath she took—and maybe he would, with her words at least…….

**“Looks like your decision is outside,” she said with a smile. 
Gemma raced to Shelley’s side, her heart in her mouth. Cade was standing at the front door. “Shit.” She turned to go, but Shelley grabbed hold of her hand.
“Look at him and think about what you see and feel just now. If it is not love, if your stomach isn’t flipping at the sight of him or screaming in longing, if your arms aren’t craving him, go down there and tell him to leave. Let him go because he also has a life, and it isn’t fair to make him hang between what he wants and what he has. If there is no hope, let him go.”
Gemma stared down at Cade’s tall, well-built frame as he stood there, her heart thumping loudly in her chest.
“Make your decision, Gem.”

**“Cade, you need to …”
She didn’t get to finish what she was saying—her body had others ideas. It didn’t help that Cade was holding her in place. He felt it coming, felt the build-up in her body. He pressed his mouth to hers as her body shuddered and her pleasure rode her. She threw her head back with a cry and he groaned from the sight of her coming apart in his hands. She nearly gave in and sat herself down just where he wanted her. But as she tried to push herself up again, Cade grabbed hold of her hips and pushed her down so that she took all of him in—deep, completely. Gemma’s eyes grew wide and she gasped.

CadeSociety Book
Cade MacDonald is a man who has always had a sense of right and wrong. He fights for justice and does not back down in the face of danger. As a member of Others, a supernatural race of powerful, fierce shifters, who do not accept or sympathise with any Humans, or any race other than their own, he now finds himself in a battle with the Other Society’s leaders as they oppose his attempt to save the life of a young half-breed. 


Fighting to do the right thing, Cade is simultaneously faced with the unexpected attraction he feels for his best friend’s sister. Having grown up with Gemma, he is confused and torn at the strong pull of his wolf towards this beautiful tiger. 

Willing to accept any repercussions of his rebellious actions, will he go as far as to lose the love of his life in the process?

Cade 

Snippets from Cade
**He lay absolutely still, afraid that this was an apparition that would fade any minute. God, she was so beautiful. His dared to touch her, his hand sliding up along the soft skin of her arm and up to her face. She turned her cheek into his palm and closed her eyes with a small sigh. His eyes fell to her parted lips, his heart speeding up at the thought of tasting them. Softly, he slid his hand to the nape of her neck, gently tugging her down. He heard her soft gasp, her heart as it began to thud loudly in her chest. Her long hair fell down the sides of her face like a curtain as he pulled her down. He lifted his head so that their mouths were inches apart, their breaths mingling. He closed the distance between them and heard her sharp intake of breath just before his mouth captured hers. Her lips were warm and moist, and he groaned from the pleasure of the taste of them. He deepened the kiss, forcing her lips open so that he could sweep in. She moaned into the kiss and spread her hands over his chest, the contact snapping all control. He growled, the kiss turning fierce and desperate. Tangling his fingers in her hair, he tugged her down so that he could feel the full weight of her as she balanced herself against his chest, holding her head in place as he ravaged her mouth. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted more. His other arm came around her, pulling her even closer in an attempt to satisfy some infinite longing inside that was insatiable. 

**Without even thinking about it, Cade turned his face and caught her mouth with his before she realised what he was happening. He hadn't meant to, hadn’t planned it. But now that he had, there was absolutely no way to stop it—he had no control. He swallowed her shocked little gasp, and revelled in the way she moaned into his mouth. 
His hands went to her waist and he rose with her, turning her and pushing her up against the wall. His body pinned her there while his hands came up to cup her face, their mouths locked together as he kissed her with bruising force. Opening her mouth to him, her response was ardent. Her lips were soft under the firmness of his. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her. Like the kiss they had shared a few nights back, there was a hunger inside him that just couldn’t be sated. He needed more. He deepened the kiss, pouring all the pent-up desire, all the longing into it. Need surged through him, straight to his groin. He wedged a knee between her legs, forcing them apart. He could feel her heat through his jeans, hear her gasp as he pressed a muscular thigh against her intimately. She moaned into his mouth, her hips undulating and her nails digging into his shoulders.
Breathing raggedly, he tore his mouth from hers, trying to get a grip on his sanity. “This is wrong,” he groaned against her mouth, then growled deep in his throat when she slid her hands under his shirt and raked her nails down his strong back, all thoughts of stopping dissipating. He pressed against her harder, hoping to alleviate the ache in his groin, then nipped along the edge of her jaw, down to the sensitive curve between her neck and shoulder. He bit down and she cried out, her nails sinking deeper into his back. 
“Cade,” she moaned breathlessly. 

**He captured her mouth with his once again, hard, hungrily, as if he couldn’t get enough. He couldn’t sate this need inside him—couldn’t stop the fire raging in his veins. His mind screamed to take her, his wolf clawing at him, demanding it.  In one fluid movement, he lifted her, making Gemma gasp. She wrapped her legs around his waist and Cade groaned from the sheer pleasure of having her pressed so intimately against him. 

As he turned and walked toward the house Cade’s tongue plunged in, tasting the sweetness of her mouth, and Gemma gasped and opened willingly. She pressed closer, her thighs clenching tighter around his lean waist, and Cade moaned. They reached his car and he shoved her against the hard metal, pressing against her and then biting down on her lip. She whimpered and he ran his tongue across the hurt to ease it. When Cade suddenly stopped, Gemma was panting breathlessly. 

Cade had lost the ability to think. He didn’t care about anything. It was too late. Too many times he had fought this and for what? To feel the agonising pain of it every minute of every god damn day? Too many times he had walked away. Too many times he had let her go, but he wasn’t going to this time. He wasn’t letting her go. He let her slide down his body, his body shuddering from the feel of her. “Come with me,” he whispered against her mouth, ready to beg if she said no. 

He stepped back from her, breathing hard. Keeping his eyes on hers, he held out his hand. This was the moment. He had made his decision and now she had to make hers—it had to be hers. What she chose next had to be what she wanted. It was all on her. 




The Rise of the Phoenix: A Society Novella 
Cast out by his own family after a wolf’s bite infects him, a young thirteen-year-old boy is forced to roam the streets and fend for himself. In a world of Humans and Others, he belongs to neither. No longer considered Human, but nor a purebred Other, a race of powerful supernatural beings, he will be unwanted and hunted by both. 

Danger lurks at every turn. Young, vulnerable and afraid, he tries to come to terms with the physical changes taking place in him while at the same time trying to find a way to survive. 
In a menacing world filled with threats and hate, is there any hope of salvation for this orphaned fledgling?

Phoenix


Snippets from The Rise of the Phoenix
**The boy didn’t think. They were one now - boy and wolf. He was in a partially shifted form, hands deformed paws with claws. One snatched out, fast. It connected with cloth and flesh. Guttural screams pierced the air. The boy didn’t let go. He dug deeper, thrusting his hand up and out. He wrapped his clawed fingers around something soft, warm and wet, and then he pulled with everything he had in him. He let out a feral scream of his own. Blood spurted all over him, covering his face, going into his mouth and igniting the hunger that he had denied for so long. 
The boy was beyond it now. The wolf had emerged fully. His nostrils flared as he rolled onto his side. Hunger so deep drove his mind to the brink of madness, and he brought his hand to his mouth and bit down onto what he was holding. Desperation made him force flesh and tissue into his mouth. Pushing each part in until he was almost choking. He pushed in more than he could ever dare to chew, but his mouth changed shape, the large teeth now forcing his mouth open. His bones pushed out, forming a wolf’s snout. He could hear screams and cries, but he could no longer feel the blows against him. He rose up - half boy, half wolf. His bag was on the ground and next to him lay Fat boy...his stomach torn open, his arms and legs twitching.
Almost retching, the boy snatched up his bag and ran.

** “You can do it?”
“Yes. You want to? Give me your arm and I’ll show you.” Robert grinned then and the boy watched as teeth elongated from the top of his gums, until they were like that of a small dog. His eyes had shifted, too. It made the boy excited, but a little afraid as well. “It won’t hurt, probably won’t even work,” Robert said, but with difficulty now, his teeth making it hard to talk. “Your arm?”

The boy chewed on the inside of his lip for a moment and stared at Robert’s eyes and then his teeth. Wouldn’t it be great to do it? “Okay, but I don’t want my mum to know,” he breathed. He slipped off his wet coat and then unbuttoned his shirt to allow it to slip from his shoulder. He offered his bare upper arm to Robert, his stomach twisting in excitement. 
Robert stepped forward, opened his mouth and sunk his teeth into the boy’s young flesh.

** As he walked, he used games to pass time and keep his mind occupied. He counted steps as he walked, making himself walk one hundred steps and then one hundred more. He wondered how long it would take to get to a thousand. When he finally did, he aimed for another, and then another, until he reached ten thousand steps, then fifteen. He became so engrossed in his game that he stopped to get out a notebook and mark off every new hundred, challenging himself to just do one more set. 
The notebook had been a gift from his mother. A reward, she had said, for doing well in his test at school. On the cover was a Phoenix. “It’s a bird,” she had told him with a smile. “They never die. Not properly. They rise from the ashes of their old lives and start a new one. Like a new chapter.” He had loved the idea of that. He had used the book to write his stories, lying on his bed, his pencil in hand and his imagination running faster than his hand could write. 






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