Sometimes the things that go bump in the night can
thrill us as much as scare us. In this anthology, nine
authors delve into the realms of the paranormal to
create erotic romances filled with witches and
werewolves, demons and dragons, and more.
Do you want to:
- Thrill to a ghostly encounter?
- Break the curse of a centuries old gem?
- Stop a time loop from ending in murder?
- Discover your true identity?
- Travel through dimensions to your true love?
- Tie up a werewolf and make him yours?
- Use your powers to seduce your professor?
- Fight next to a demigod to save the world?
Whatever your desire, you'll find it here in
wonderful new stories from:
Charlotte Boyett~Compo
Holly East
Chase Jeffreys
Rachel Kenley
Victoria Lake
Brit M.
Bethany Michaels
K. Jo Reilly
Devin Salerno
A cool blast of air brushed her face, and Cass sat bolt upright, her breath coming in gasps.
She waited. There was no breeze, no more whispers, and Cass was beginning to think she
imagined the whole thing. “Just a draft,” she told herself, even though she knew it was a lie.
She’d checked the room for drafts. She grappled for her glasses and put them on. She could
still see the green light of the camera across the room.
“Helena.”
The whisper was louder and clearer this time, and chills ran up Cass’s spine. She’d seen some
strange stuff in the past but this was really freaking her out.
Cass wet her lips and pulled in a deep breath. “Helena isn’t here.”
The room felt charged, like the air outside just before a lightening storm. Her nerves prickled
with the energy she could sense swirling all around her, though she could see and hear
nothing.
Then something brushed her hand where it lay on her lap.
“Helena.”
It was right in her ear this time. Cass turned. Almost afraid of what she’d see sitting next to her.
No one was there.
Cass got out of bed and turned on the lamp. Everything looked normal just as it had when she
turned off the light earlier. She walked around and rechecked the door, the window and the
fireplace flue. All secure.
Cass checked the time on an ornate old clock sitting on the mantle that seemed to still work. It
was a little after midnight. Next to the clock was a small painting she hadn’t noticed before. It
was a smaller version of the one she’d seen in the parlor. Isaac. She grabbed it and brought it
back to bed with her.
Cass tried to get a hold on her nerves. She was a professional investigator. She knew ghosts
couldn’t really hurt anyone. All she needed to do was look at the situation logically and try to
find explanations for the things she thought she had experienced.
Okay, so she heard a whisper that she thought was Helena’s name. She’d felt something on
her hand and a bit of cold air. So now she’d wait and see what happened next.
As Cass examined the miniature of Isaac, she wondered what he was like when he was alive.
His eyes were dark, but kind. His mouth was full and turned up slightly at the corners. His hair
looked so thick and glossy Cass wondered what it was like to run fingers though a head of hair
like that. She shut her eyes, feeling a tingle of warmth low in her belly. And he’d died a virgin.
Now that was a waste. Big time.
Cass felt her eyelids grow heavy once again and leaned back onto the pillow still clutching the
painting. “Isaac,” she whispered, barely conscious. “How sad.”
Suddenly Cass felt a touch on her bare arm, which was strange since her pajamas had long
sleeves. She rolled to her side and hit smack into something warm and hard in her bed.
“Shh, darling, it’s just me.”
Cass opened her eyes and found herself looking into a pair of dark brown, sparkling eyes, just
like the ones in the picture. “Holy shit.”
She sat up and the touch cool night air streaming in through open windows made her realize
almost immediately that she was naked. Frothy white curtains blew in the breeze and she could
smell roses with their rich, delicate scent from the garden below; a garden that had been
brown and dead when she’d arrived at the house only yesterday. She turned to look at the
man beside her. He was naked, too.
“Isaac.”
“Yes, love,” he said, reaching up to play with a tendril of long blond hair that cascaded over
one shoulder. Wait, she had short auburn hair. How the heck—
“Are you alright?” he asked. “We can wait…if you like.”
This was definitely a dream. The man beside her was no ghost. He was flesh and blood just as
she was. His dark wavy hair was longer than it had been in the painting and charmingly sleep
tousled. His eyes were warm liquid filled with desire and there was a slight shadow beard
decorating his jaw that Cass found irresistible.
She took a good look at his body. Long and lean, he lay on his side with one hand propping up
his head. His chest was tan against the snowy white bed clothes, as if he went without a shirt a
good part of the time, and his broad chest was sprinkled with dark hair. After she followed the
trail downward with her eyes, she met his gaze again and saw that he was pleased by her body
as well.
Very pleased.