Samhain Publishing Ltd, Ebooks and Books in Print

Fantasmagorical

by Annmarie McKenna

“Dayum.” Evan Knight’s duffel bag dropped to the ornate tiled floor with a thud. Sweat beaded her upper lip and rolled off her body everywhere else. Her forehead, the small of her back, between her breasts. “Look at all those chests.”

“Makes you want to dive right in, doesn’t it? Part the sea of male specimens.” Kiley came to a stop next to Evan, so close their shoulders rubbed. She leaned over as if to whisper, but what she said could have been heard on the mainland. “Which one do you want?”

Evan smiled. “I don’t know, I don’t care, but it better be that one.” She pointed none too shyly at the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen in her life. The same half-naked man currently surrounded by a throng of other women.

“Mmm,” Kiley sighed, clearly not paying any attention to Evan’s god of choice. “Methinks I like the redhead stroking his… Oh my God. Have you ever seen one that big? It’s huge!”

Evan reluctantly removed her gaze from the sandy-haired Adonis. “Wow. That is impressive.”

Kiley clasped Evan’s hand and tugged them both toward the man in question. Evan guessed it was okay to leave her bag unattended for a few minutes. Fantasmagorical was a private resort after all, only invited guests and the employees were permitted on the property.

Before they even reached the man, Kiley was already talking. “That is beautiful.”

“Thank you.” His green eyes lit up and Evan watched them touch on every inch of Kiley’s hourglass figure before settling on her face.

Evan snorted. He didn’t even look at her. Too bad, because he was rather yummy.

“Is it as soft as it looks?” Not one shy bone in her best friend’s body.

“Absolutely.”

“So big. May I touch it?” Kiley’s fingertips were already stretching toward the object of her fascination.

“If it would please you.”

She hesitated. “Will it bite?”

The corners of his mouth quirked. “I would never allow it to hurt a guest, my sweet.”

Jeez, looked like Kiley had already been claimed. A sharp bark of laughter followed by several female giggles made Evan turn to the man who’d first garnered her notice, and sigh. Probably no way in hell of attracting that particular Adonis’s interest. Not with that many women already vying for his attention. Besides, she didn’t have the perfect shape of Kiley or, apparently, the wiles of any of his groupies. But he was built to the specifications of all her fantasies…

Take Me

by Mackenzie McKade

Seducing Cord was easier than she would have imagined. Holding on to him would be the difficult part.

She clawed her fingernails down his chest, leaving a white path that turned pink as she followed the whisper of blond hair that trailed down his abdomen, swirling around his bellybutton before disappearing. Slowly, she raised her sultry gaze to meet his, and then she slipped her hand down his jeans.

Oh God!

He wore no boxers—no briefs.

Instead her fingers met the firm head of his cock. Stunned for only a moment, she circled the silky ridge, sliding her fingertip back and forth over the small slit now slick with pre-come.

“Please? Let me tie you up,” she whispered.

His eyes darkened to a sea green. He clenched his jaw. “Darlin’, do whatever you want.” His words were tight and forced, his hips undulating against her hand.

“I’ll be back,” Cait promised, pressing her lips briefly to his as she extracted her hand. For a second she didn’t think he would release her, but he did.

Cord’s hot gaze followed her as she gathered the loose strands of leather off the bench. She stole a moment to compose herself. Her confidence almost took a nose dive when she saw that he’d undone the top button of his pants.

Just the whisper of a zipper and man-oh-man—

Focus.

Funny how difficult it was to walk when aroused. She’d swear she was weaving all over the place as she approached him. Snuggling against him, his arms surrounding her, she took small steps to maneuver him backward against a wooden ladder leading to the loft above.

With a soft smile on her face, Cait raised his arm so that it bent at the elbow. She’d been around livestock all her life and knew how to tie a knot, one even Cord couldn’t bust free. As she finished the tie around his wrist, she swore his body had become a furnace; his heat burned through her clothing.

Focus.

When his other wrist was secured, she found the courage to kiss him—really kiss him for the first time.

She wrapped her arms around his neck like she had imagined so many times and pressed her mouth firmly to his. He tried to take control, but she pushed past his lips, plunging her tongue inside to taste and ravish.

Breathing elevated, he pulled against his restraints, the wood creaking. “Let me go, darlin’. Let me make you feel good.” His sexy promise brought her back to reality. She stumbled back, tipsy from the euphoria.

Cait licked her lips, savoring Cord’s masculine flavor. She inhaled deeply, knowing the next part of her plan sucked big time. Her body hummed with the need to strip the man naked and make a little yeehaw in the hay.

Instead, she tossed her hair over a shoulder, narrowed her eyes and said, “Try to get out of this one, Cord Daily.”

Her plan was simple. Cord liked the chase. She had to arouse him to the point he couldn’t think. Give a little—but leave him wanting. When she finally surrendered, loved him with all her heart, the man would be a goner.

Without another word she spun on the ball of her boots and hauled-ass out the door.

A Scorching Seduction

by Marie Harte

Trace stared at her from head to toe as they left the gymnasium for the hallway. “Where are you from, Fia?”

“Nowhere, really. I was orphaned when I was three and grew up shuttled between Jergin and Aptor. That’s where most foundlings are raised.” She noted the softening in Trace’s, if not Vaan’s, face. Vaan, the assassin, remained wary. Yet Trace, Racor’s legendary assault commander, was a sucker for a woman with a sob story. “I had a very loving childhood, though. And when I reached my majority at fifteen, I decided to become a sex sharer. It’s respectable work and pays very well.”

Vaan lifted a brow at Trace, who scowled but said nothing.

“That’s what I’ve always told my friend here. Sex is to be treasured, explored, not deemed dirty or wrong.” Vaan stared smugly at Trace.

Fia frowned, enjoying her role. “But if you feel that way, Trace, then why are you here?”

“Good question,” he muttered, and Vaan chuckled.

“Don’t mind Trace. He’s just upset that I got the better of him in our entanglement.”

“Shut up, Vaan.” Trace’s gaze narrowed, and Fia encouraged his small temper, knowing it would aid her as a distraction.

“But you both seemed so wrapped in each other,” she said earnestly. “Trace, your climax was so beautiful, Vaan’s hands so giving.” To her delight, Trace flushed and Vaan grinned widely.

“I told you I knew what you needed,” Vaan murmured.

“And I told you I’d make you pay for that.” Trace kept Fia between them while his attention fixated on Vaan.

“Um, I hate to interrupt,” Fia said meekly. “But would it be okay if I cleaned up in my chambers before we met Vela?” She blushed, staring at her bare feet. “I want to maintain a good impression, and I feel a trifle, ah, used.”

Vaan glanced from Trace to her, his eyes gleaming. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look better, Fia. You’re practically glowing.” Damn. Now Trace looked speculative as he stared at her. “But all right. Take us to your room.”

Within minutes, they stood in her spartan quarters. Unlike Clea’s side of the room, Fia’s had little adornment. Only a silken bedsheet and a blooming orvid marked the room as hers. While they checked the security of her windowless room, she worked on appearing shy, demure. A difficult task with a bed so near the objects of her desire. “Um, I don’t suppose you’d let me change in private?” She forced another blush. “I’m not used to dressing in front of others.”

Vaan’s eyebrows rose. “What? You’re just used to undressing in front of others? You are a sex sharer, aren’t you?”

She called on some tears and forced a flush.

Trace shot Vaan a sharp look and the light-haired assassin sighed. “We’ll be right outside, Fia. And don’t even think about running away or there’ll be hell to pay.” His eyes burned as they lingered over her breasts.

The minute they left, she jammed the security box by the door, buying her a little time.

She’d been more than pleased to share Clea’s room, partial to the hidden chamber directly behind the armoire, a secret meeting place Clea and Vela liked to use when Vela felt naughty.

Moving with a sense of urgency, Fia threw a few sets of clothing and a pair of sandals, her communicator—which didn’t work except in one small area deeper into the island—a knife and a map into a small bag and passed into Clea’s secret chamber. From there, she squeezed through a narrow window leading to the central garden and inner courtyard. She quickly weaved through guests and curious staff alike, nodding pleasantly while gauging how much distance she’d put between herself and the men trained to hunt down their prey until found.

She could only hope she’d given herself enough time.

Honeymoon Castaways

by Dawn Halliday

“This is no joke.” Andreas kept one hand firmly on the stick, the other adjusting various instruments. “We’re going down.”

Cat stared at Andreas’s broad shoulders, the chocolate-colored skin of his shaved head over the top of the seat. Since she sat directly behind him, she could not read his facial expression, but the tone of his voice sent a shiver of dread down her spine. She turned to Dave. As she watched, the blood drained from his face.

“What’s wrong?” Dave asked through thin, tight lips.

“Engine’s frozen.” Andreas leaned across the empty passenger seat beside him to turn the knob of a control. “Oil leak, maybe.”

“What can we do? How can we get it started again?” Dave was almost shouting.

“Oh my God,” Cat whispered into her headset. Terror overcame her. She couldn’t move. The wind whistled. The plane plummeted towards the earth. She couldn’t look out the window, but she knew what was down there. Miles upon miles of nothing but the vast, deep Caribbean ocean. There was no way they’d survive a crash on the open sea.

Cat looked down at her legs. Beneath the white satin skirt of her wedding dress, her knees knocked together in a steady rhythm, an uncontrollable reaction to her fear. Bump. Bump. Bump.

Andreas’s even voice broke through her panic. “Calm down. The engine is not going to start. I’m going to try to land without killing us.”

Cat riveted her gaze to the altimeter. They were at two thousand feet, descending fast.

The airplane banked, and she clutched Dave, pursing her lips so she wouldn’t scream. Andreas continued calmly. “I’m going to try to find a place to land on that island. Just sit tight. Make sure your shoulder harnesses are on securely.”

Cat wrenched her head to look out the window. A tiny macaroni-shaped blob shimmered green and brown in the middle of the sea. She saw no evidence of human life—no buildings, no roads. No runways.

Please let there be somewhere to land, she prayed.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Through her headset, she heard Dave’s harsh breaths. He held her hand in a bone-crushing grip.

When she gathered the courage to open her eyes, the island looked larger. She could see trees now, a scruffy jungle. Waves crashing on a coral reef. The vast ocean beyond.

They were close.

She forced herself to look at Dave. He was so gorgeous. She always thought she’d eventually marry someone of Latin descent, like herself, but when she’d met Dave, she had instantly known he was the one. Sexy, intelligent and assertive, he was the perfect all-American man for her. She fell in love with him on their first date. She had married him that morning in a big, Catholic wedding in Miami, attended by two hundred of her extended Puerto Rican family, most of whom she had never seen before, all of whom loved her tremendously. Thirty of Dave’s friends and family had come. He didn’t seem to mind the imbalance.

Tonight was her wedding night. She and Dave had special plans for it.

Blinking back tears, she brushed a strand of dark blond hair out of his eyes. God, she wanted to live.

He cupped her face in his hands. His eyes were the color of the ocean outside the window, but much more calming. “We’re going to be okay.”

She took her headset off. “I love you.”

“I love you too, babe.” He tossed his headset away and curved his hand around her neck.

Andreas was making a mayday call. “Mayday, mayday, mayday, this is Cherokee two-five-seven-one delta…”

The voice faded to the background as Cat pressed her lips against Dave’s. Pulling her in closer, he crushed his mouth to hers, thrusting his tongue inside, curling it and sweeping through. He had never kissed her with such urgency before. She threw her arms around him and tried to think only of Dave, of their love for one another. As if that would keep them alive.

“Hang on!” Andreas shouted. “Here we go.”