This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Gail Koger will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
My name is Ella McAllister, I’m a psychic witch and a healer. My life is kinda nuts. Not only do I have the Coletti hunters chasing me, but now I also have a very determined Askole High Commander after me. Why? I shot his ship down and it crash landed, and it blew up. Yep, itty-bitty pieces everywhere. My bad, but his ship was a dead ringer for a Rodan Marauder, and it was my civic duty to blow the enemy spacecraft out of the sky. Wasn’t it? Any hoo, I healed his owies and boogied.
I thought that was the end of it, but oh no. For some unknown reason, Sariel, the Askole High Commander, decided I would make him the perfect mate. As if. I think the blow to his head made him completely bonkers.
Sariel informed me the mating dance had begun and there was nothing I could do to stop it. The idiot had obviously never dealt with a witch before. I didn’t have the time to play games with him, so I did a little abracadabra alakazam and ran.
Sigh. The persistent Askole found me. Now I have a decision to make. Keep running or surrender to the High Commander. He is a damn good kisser.
Would the mating dance bring two lonely souls together? Who knew?
Read an Excerpt:
Sariel abruptly changed the subject. “I had armor made for you.”
That got my attention. “Did you?” Since I was heading for the Wild West of the galaxy, body armor would come in handy. “What’s the catch?”
Amusement lit Sariel’s eyes. “So suspicious.”
“You bet your ass I am. What’s the catch?”
“A simple kiss and the armor is yours.” Sariel’s big hand cupped my ass.
Geeze, he was like an octopus. I removed his hand. “That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“Uh huh.” The sneaky bastard was planning something, but what? I kissed his chin. “There you go. Where’s my armor.
Sariel laughed. “A real kiss with tongue.”
I really wanted that armor. I pressed my lips to his and took small, careful tastes of his mouth. I didn’t want to impale myself on his fangs. Yep, Sariel definitely tasted like cinnamon. A wild, edgy excitement tore through me as our tongues tangled in a slow, sensual dance.
Sariel caught my chin in his hand and the hot friction of his mouth had me vibrating with pure, undiluted need. He was a fever in my blood. I burned for him. I had a sudden, overpowering need to fuck Sariel blind. No! No! No! This was bad on so many levels. I had to stop this before I did something stupid. “Stop! You’ve got your kiss. Where is my armor?”
“Obstinate to the end. Your former lover has much to answer for.”
About the Author:
I was a 9-1-1 dispatcher for the Glendale Police Department and to keep from going totally bonkers – I mean people have no idea what a real emergency is. Take this for example: I answered, “9-1-1 emergency, what’s your emergency?” And this hysterical woman yelled, “My bird is in a tree.” Sometimes I really couldn’t help myself, so I said, “Birds have a tendency to do that, ma’am.” The woman screeched, “No! You don’t understand. My pet parakeet is in the tree. I’ve just got to get him down.” Like I said, not a clue. “I’m sorry ma’am but we don’t get birds out of trees.” The woman then cried, “But… What about my husband? He’s up there, too.” See what I had to deal with? To keep from hitting myself repeatedly in the head with my phone I took up writing.
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