Category Archives: Blog

Our Own Private Identity Crises

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Some of you may recall that while I was on holiday in the States this summer, I ran a series of posts called, “first in series.” They were little posts about the first books in each of the series I’d written as well as a spicy excerpt. Well, I’m over first books now. Time to move on to second. This little post and excerpt is from Identity Crisis, the second book in the Executive Decisions series.

 

 

I’m sure we’ve all undergone some sort of identity crisis at some point in our lives, and let’s face it, in the world in which we live, we’re always juggling roles. We all wear lots of hats, and some of those hats are drastically different. For those of us who are writers, we can add to that identity crisis the identities of all of our characters, with whom we live twenty-four seven when we’re writing. For us, it sometimes gets a bit confusing as to who’s real and who isn’t. I doubt if I’m the first writer to fall in love with one of her characters. For those of us who are avid readers, who doesn’t want to crawl inside their favourite characters and embrace them and embody them and live out their adventure – especially when there’s hot romance involved and the hero is larger than life, sexy, flawed and in need of a heroine to make it all better?

Isn’t that a big part of what makes reading so wonderful?

Since writers are also readers, that means we’ve got LOTS of possibilities. Our imaginations allow us to be so many different people in so many different situations. With Identity Crisis, which is book two of the Executive Decisions trilogy, I wanted to play around with the idea of all the people who live inside each of us, and I wanted to seriously up the ante.

Garrett Thorne has a unique identity crisis. Garrett writes very popular romance novels, but he doesn’t write them under his own name. He writes them as Tess Delaney and, because Garrett is very good at keeping his secret life secret, every reader of romance is speculating wildly about the mysterious, reclusive Tess Delaney, who no one has ever seen. Everyone, however, has seen business tycoon, Ellison Thorne’s, bad-boy younger brother, Garrett, and everyone is convinced of what a ne’er do-well he is.

Garrett okay with that. It covers his romance-writing tracks nicely, and he manages to juggle living as two people very well until Tess Delaney is nominated for the coveted Golden Kiss Award for romance writing, and suddenly there’s a real threat that Tess’s true identity will be discovered. That kind of exposure, Garrett doesn’t want, so against his better judgement, and because he has little choice, he hires PR person extraordinaire, Kendra Davis to play the role of Tess Delaney for the ceremony. But Kendra’s identity crisis is even bigger than Garrett’s. Throw in a stalker and a love-hate relationship sizzling enough to set the whole Northwest Coast on fire, and let the adventure begin!

Identity Crisis Blurb:
PR rep extraordinaire, Kendra Davis, is elated when she gets the chance to work for her hero, reclusive, romance novelist, Tess Delaney. Her elation is short-lived when she discovers that Tess is none other than Garrett Thorne, the bad-boy brother of business tycoon and eco-warrior, Ellison Thorne, who is engaged to her best friend, Dee Henning. Kendra blames Garrett for the comedy of errors that nearly destroyed their relationship. Garrett doesn’t like Kendra either, but he’s desperate. His alter-ego, Tess has been nominated for the prestigious Golden Kiss Award. No one knows who Tess really is, and he needs Kendra to play Tess for the awards.

When Tess is stalked by a rabid fan, the two unite to protect her identity. With Kendra, the body and Garrett the soul of Tess Delaney, is there room in this strange ménage for romance? Can a woman who doesn’t exist understand their hearts even better than they do?

 

 

Identity Crisis Excerpt:
She cocked her head and looked at him in a way that made him think she was expecting to find something, something he was hiding. But just when he was beginning to feel defensive, she shoved her iPad back into her bag and stood. ‘Alright then. That’s all I need today.’

‘Wait a minute.’ He said following her to the door. ‘Don’t we need to … I don’t know … Practice? I mean I barely know you and you said we need to be comfortable with each other.’

She turned so quickly he nearly ran into her. ‘You don’t have to be comfortable with Kendra Davis, Garret. You have to be comfortable with Tess Delaney, and I promise you will be.’ She looked up at him with a smile that might have been teasing, might have been a smirk. Whichever it was, the small alcove where they now stood suddenly seemed even tighter fitting than it actually was. ‘If it’ll help,’ she said, ‘you can kiss me good-bye.’

‘That’s not very professional,’ he managed, feeling like the breath had been squeezed out of him as he fumbled to help her into her jacket.

Her smile was warm, reassuring. ‘Actually, in our case it’s very professional.’ She rose on her toes and brushed a kiss across his lips. ‘Very professional, indeed.’
And before she could pull away he scooped her into his arms, feeling her little gasp of surprise as he took her mouth. What had only been intended to show her he was up for it, very quickly changed to something else, and suddenly they were clawing at each other, hands grabbing collars and hair and anything else to get closer to each other. Clothing brushed against clothing until friction mounted and body heat radiated through. And God, her mouth was sweeter than anything, full lips so soft one second and so hard and demanding the next, parted to allow him access to her tongue and her hard pallet, to her warm humid breath coming faster and faster as her fist clenched in his hair and her own tongue battled for supremacy. And her body, Jesus, her body was hard pressed and tight and mounded and undulating and he’d never felt so much fire just beneath the surface.

But she was Kendra Davis. And just when he was ready to scoop her up and carry her off to his bedroom. Just when he was ready to hold her captive there for the next three of four or more hours, she stepped back with a little sigh and caught her breath. She raised a hand to her lips, almost but not quite covering her teasing smile and said. ‘You get an A Plus for practice, Garrett Thorne. You just convinced the hell out of me.’ Still breathing hard, she ran a hand through his hair, brushed a quick kiss across his lips and let herself out, leaving him leaning against the wall barely able to stand. For the very first time, he allowed himself to think that not only might they be able to pull this whole charade off, but he might actually enjoy it.

Out Now—Eyes Wide Open – MMF BDSM Erotic Romance by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #menage #BDSM #MMF

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Blurb:

A chance meeting opens Fiona’s eyes to some very sexy possibilities.

Recent graduate Fiona Gillespie is stuck working in a grimy pub in London’s East End, and living in a horrid flat. It’s only while she figures out what she wants to do career-wise, but that’s easier said than done.

When she sees an advertisement for a job at a plush Mayfair hotel, she jumps at the chance. Determination and a spot of luck land Fiona her dream role—and it comes with accommodation included.

Her job and living situation sorted, things are on the up. Unfortunately, her personal life is lacklustre. It doesn’t bother her, though—not until she meets businessmen James and Logan, and her head is well and truly turned.

When a misunderstanding leads Fiona to James and Logan’s sumptuous top-floor hotel suite, she has no idea what she’s about to uncover. Her imagination runs wild, but not wild enough to get to the truth—James and Logan are a couple, and they’re into some seriously intriguing activities.

Fascinated, she launches herself into a whole new world with the two men. But is this just physical, or is their arrangement set to become something more?

*Eyes Wide Open has been re-released with a stunning new cover and has been re-edited.

Universal link: http://books2read.com/eyeswideopenV2

*****

Excerpt:

Continuing to surreptitiously peer at the men over the rim of her glass, it hit her that this was the first time in months she’d looked at a man with interest, much less two men—and at the same time! She was ready to snatch her gaze away if one of them happened to glance at her, but it wasn’t surprising the pair had attracted her attention.

The tailored business suits would draw the eye even on someone unremarkable. But on these two, the fine clothing was practically an orgasm for the gaze. They sat opposite each other, and their angle to her meant she had a view of both their profiles—lucky her.

The one to her right had very dark, almost black hair, with a bit of a curl to it, a long straight nose, a trimmed goatee and, if she wasn’t mistaken, deep blue eyes. It was hard to tell for sure from this distance and perspective.

The one on her left had lighter, shorter hair, stubble that by some magical feat still looked smart, and the most sinful lips she’d ever set eyes on. And speaking of eyes, she thought perhaps his were green. What she wouldn’t give to go and check both of them out close up, preferably naked.

Shocked at her own sudden lustful thoughts, she inhaled more than drank another sip of the juice. Unfortunately, it hit her throat all wrong and she almost slammed the glass down as she started to cough. She tried so hard to suppress the cough, eager not to draw attention to herself, that she made it worse. Snatching up the thick linen serviette from the table, she held it to her mouth as she spluttered in a most embarrassing manner, and tears began to roll down her cheeks. By now, she was sure the whole damn restaurant was staring at her, and she wished the tablecloths reached the floor, like the ones in the restaurant upstairs, so she could hide under the table until she regained her composure.

Swallowing repeatedly to try to soothe her irritated throat, she gasped as a gentle hand laid on her shoulder, which set her off all over again.

“Oh God,” came a voice. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you jump. I just wanted to make sure you were all right. See if I could help.”

Unable to speak, Fiona waved a hand to try to signal that she’d be okay, but unless the guy was a mind reader, he’d have no luck figuring that out. Blinking through the tears that marred her vision, her urge to hide underneath the table grew stronger. Christ, it was only the hottie with the blue eyes. And, if she wasn’t mistaken, his sexy friend with the green eyes was also hovering close by, concern etched into his handsome features.

Managing to drag in a breath, she huffed out, “Thank you.”

Just then, Jeremy arrived with a carafe of water, complete with ice, and poured her a glassful. “Here you go, Fiona. Drink this. Are you all right? Anything else I can get you?”

She picked up the glass and took a tiny sip of the freezing cold liquid, hoping it wouldn’t make her cough again. She seemed to have got a handle on it, though her now-sore throat wasn’t at all happy with her. After taking several more tiny sips, she let out a sigh of relief—it seemed her mortifying coughing bout was over. Then she moved on to bigger gulps, buying herself some time to think of something witty to say, anything to convince the three men looking at her that she wasn’t some kind of imbecile who couldn’t even manage a glass of juice without choking.

Unfortunately, her creative brain, which had been on fire up until she’d started lusting over the hotties, had taken its leave. So she decided to opt for the truth. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you. My juice just went down the wrong way, that’s all. I’m fine, really. I’ll just finish my drink and be on my way. Thank you for the water, Jeremy.” She aimed a weak smile in his direction.

Blue Eyes turned to Jeremy. “Yeah, thanks, buddy. If you need to get on, we’ll keep an eye on her for a bit, make sure she’s okay. Don’t worry.”

A little warily, Jeremy looked at the two men, then at Fiona. “Are you going to be all right, Fiona? Do you need me to call someone and let them know you’ll be late or anything?”

She shook her head. “Honestly, Jeremy, I’ll be fine. It was just a coughing fit, that’s all. No lasting damage, except maybe to my makeup. And no, nobody will be missing me yet. It’s fine. Thank you so much, though.”

“Just give me a wave if you need me,” he said, backing away.

“Will do.”

With that, he morphed from concerned acquaintance into efficient waiter in an instant and went back to looking after his tables and the patrons frequenting them.

Knowing she’d now have to address the two men who’d caused her blush-worthy incident in the first place, she took yet another huge gulp of the icy water, then dabbed at her face with the serviette. Putting it down, she turned to Blue Eyes, who still stood by her side, but had removed his hand from her shoulder, with a wide smile.

“I’m so sorry,” she said again. “Please excuse the state of me, I’m sure I must look terrible. Thank you so much, both of you, for coming to check on me, but I’m really fine. No Heimlich manoeuvre required. I’ll just finish my drink… drinks… and be on my way. Please feel free to go back to your meeting.”

Green Eyes stepped a little closer. “You look just fine, sweetheart, except for being a little flushed, but that’s no bad thing.” He shot an almost imperceptible glance at Blue Eyes, and Fiona had to wonder if she’d imagined it. And if not, what on earth did he mean by that, anyway?

“Yes,” his friend chipped in, moving around so that he, too, could look at her face. “You look great. We’ll be just over there if you need us, all right? Don’t you hesitate to call out or wave, okay?”

Fiona wished they’d stop making such a fuss. But they were just being polite, she supposed. So, fixing the smile back on her face, she said, “Thank you. And I will. I promise.”

She waited until they’d retaken their seats before she started to make preparations for leaving hers. She didn’t want to dash off straight away as that might concern them further and send Jeremy into a tizzy, so she acted as coolly and calmly as possible, finishing the water, then the juice, as she continued making notes on her tablet. Finally, feeling able to leave without raising any eyebrows, she got up and collected her things.

Her movement attracted the attention of Blue Eyes and Green Eyes, and she gave them both a smile and a nod before moving off. She didn’t see Jeremy, who must have been in the kitchen collecting something, so she made a mental note to thank him when she next saw him. That was the downside to posh material serviettes and electronic devices—it meant there was no paper or pen handy to scrawl him a little note with.

She wasn’t quite ready to head back to the PR & Marketing Suite yet, at least not until she’d fixed her no doubt ruined makeup—which would raise a few eyebrows and spawn some questions—so she decided she’d dash up to her room for a few minutes and sort herself out.

After pressing the button for the elevator, she swiped through some of the photos she’d taken on the tablet as she waited for it to arrive. A couple of minutes later, the car arrived with a ping and a swish of doors. She stepped in, pressed the number for her floor and moved back. Just as the doors began closing, she realised the table the two men had been sitting at was visible from her position.

They were still there, and she was glad no one could see or hear her reaction as she looked at them, only to find two pairs of very arresting eyes looking right back at her—with interest.

And, as her view of them grew narrower and narrower until only a sliver was left, Blue Eyes flashed her a positively wicked grin just before he disappeared altogether.

Clinging onto the brass handrail behind her to steady herself, Fiona willed herself to get a grip. She’d been having a really good day, right up until those two had somehow awakened her hormones and made her bloody fruit juice go down wrong. And the way they’d clearly been watching her… and that smile! Shaking her head, she wanted desperately to believe they were some kind of dodgy perverts who frequented hotel restaurants to prey on lone young women, but common sense and cold, hard facts told her that wasn’t the case.

For one, what had they done? Offered help, and concern. That was all. What had they gained? Nothing, except maybe peace of mind in knowing she was okay. Her tablet and phone were still in her possession, so they weren’t thieves. Dodgy folk didn’t spend time in The Portmannow Hotel. It just didn’t happen.

So if they weren’t dodgy perverts and were just two relatively young businessmen, why had they been watching her like that? Their expressions, the looks in their eyes, indicated something altogether different from innocent concern for her wellbeing. The smile Blue Eyes had thrown her had been nothing short of sinful. Lustful, even. One Lucifer himself would have been proud of.

God, was it possible that they… found her attractive?

*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller), The Persecution of the Wolves, Hiding in Plain Sight and The Heiress’s Harem series. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 170 publications to her name. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter or Facebook. Join her Facebook group for exclusive cover reveals, sneak peeks and more! Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. Subscribe to her newsletter here: http://www.subscribepage.com/lfnewsletter

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.

Opposites May Attract, but then What?

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While I’m generally an avid lover of Happy Ever Afters, I don’t really believe that when opposites attract there’s much chance of a good ole HEA. But, oh, how we love the possibility that there might be! It’s the othernessthat attracts us, I think. Who doesn’t want to know what it’s like to be different, other than we are? We all want to know how the other half lives, even if that other half is vampires, shifters and demons. There are a million stories written about our attraction to that otherness, to that which we know we can’t have and to what we, ourselves, most definitely are not. I think that’s why billionaire stories and prince charming stories are always so popular. I could add to that list paranormal stories, spy stories, star-crossed lovers and cross-cultural romances. While we’re in the heat of the moment, they’re captivating … but then what?

 

Tell me honestly, can you even imagine an HEA with James Bond? At the end of a Bond movie, when Bond is fucking the costar on a slow boat to China, we know it won’t last, nor do we want it to, because there’s always another movie and another love interest to be seduced. But we most definitely expect the HEA with billionaires and princes and movie star stories.

 

I quite often struggle to believe the Happy Ever Afters offered up in othernessattraction stories, though I might buy a Happy for Now ending. Go for it while you can, 007 chicks, cuz it’s all you’re gonna get! I’m a practical sort of girl. I’ve never believed that love can overcome all obstacles. For me there comes a point when the otherness that was so attractive in the early days of chemistry and mad passionate sex and obsession becomes more of a hardship, more of a minefield for misunderstandings, than a sexy adventure. Then the logistics, the reality of what that HEA, all tied up in bows and ribbons, will actually cost becomes more work than it’s worth. I’ve ended several otherness relationships because I couldn’t get past the “what happens next” phase to really believe that love could conquer all. Bottom line: I just didn’t want to work that hard. A relationship is demanding enough without the incredible challenge of that opposites attractsort of otherness.

 

When I started writing erotica, part of the appeal was that I could explore the heat of the moment when opposites attract and the inevitable happens. I could put people who could have never made a relationship work in the real world together for nothing more than the fucking, for nothing more than the chance to see what that otherness would feel like skin to skin. In erotica, there’s always the expectation of sex, but the expectation that the sex will lead anywhere beyond a fabulous orgasm or three is optional. Erotic romance is another animal entirely, but the erotic aspect still allows for a little more suspension of belief resulting in at least an HFN.

 

Having said that, writing the consequences of what could actually happen when opposites attract, and then upping the stakes makes for great fiction of a sexy but different type. I’m thinking Fatal Attraction or The Hunger. There are often serious, even terrifying, consequences when opposites attract and that attraction is allowed to play out in a much darker way. The plot can be terrifying, heart stopping, sleep
depriving reading or watching. The truth is that otherness interests us all, whether it’s Romeo and Juliet or Buffy and Angel. We want to know the whole story, and we can’t get enough. But the one thing we’re always certain we won’t get when a good dose of consequences is added to the mix is a happy ending. Ah, fiction! How we love you! You allow us to toy with that otherness any way we choose, and our only real consequences for doing so is the time it takes to read, write or watch. I’m good with that.

Take Advantage of the Paranormal Romance Rocks Sale

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The best part about summer … the best part about any time of year, actually, is lots of good reading. No matter how big your TBR pile is, it’s never big enough to satisfy a rabid reader, and if you love paranormal romance as much as I do, then you’re gonna love the Paranormal Romance Rocks Sale!

 

Paranormal Romance Rocks Sale!

You won’t want miss out on the big sale. All fans of PNR, this is just what the end of the summer calls for! All the fabulous books by many of your favorite authors along with some wonderful new ones, in the sale are under $2.99, £1.99 or free on Kindle Unlimited. So let’s all end the summer with some seriously good reads!  I don’t plan to miss out on the reading opportunity, nor the chance to make you an offer you can’t refuse.

 

Blindsided is included in the great PNR Rocks Sale!

 

The Enemy within could be their only hope

 

Blindsided is the second book in the Medusa Consortium series. You won’t want to miss out on this sale.

 

Just follow the Paranormal Romance Rocks Sale! link to great paranormal reads.

 

 

 

 

Free On-line Reads from the Medusa’s Consortium Series:

 

If you’ve not yet read these freebies available right here on a Hopeful Romantic, here are the links. Enjoy!

 

In Pursuit of Mr. Sands

In Pursuit of Mr. Sands Part 1

In Pursuit of Mr.Sands Part 2

  

An Unexpected Encounter with a Vampire

Part 1 An Unexpected Encounter with Alonso Darlington

Part 2 An Unexpected Encounter with Alonso Darlington.

Part 3 An Unexpected Encounter with Alonso Darlington

 

 

 

 

 

 

First in Series Part 4: In The Flesh

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For the final installment of the First in Series Series, I’m once again wearing my KDG hat, but writing what has become my first love, PNR and urban fantasy. I’m sharing an excerpt from my final series, which is still in progress, The Medusa Consortium tales. Once again, it was never my plan to begin a series when I wrote In The Flesh, which interestingly enough, actually began life as a weekly series on my blog. There are now three books and a novella in the series, as well as several related short stories only available on my blog, along with another novel on the way. As always, be warned, most of my excerpts bite back, even if they don’t have vampires in them. Enjoy!

 

Book one in the Medusa’s Consortium series (Click Here for Book Two | Book Three)

Blurb:

When Susan Innes comes to visit her friend, Annie Rivers, in Chapel House, the deconsecrated church that Annie is renovating into a home, she discovers her outgoing friend changed, reclusive, secretive, and completely enthralled by a mysterious lover, whose presence is always felt, but never seen, a lover whom she claims is god. As her holiday turns into a nightmare, Susan must come to grips with the fact that her friend’s lover is neither imaginary nor is he human, and even worse, he’s turned his wandering eye on Susan, and he won’t be denied his prize. If Susan is to fight an inhuman stalker intent on having her as his own, she’ll need a little inhuman help.

 

 

 

I Wasn’t Alone in the Dark

 

I wasn’t alone in the dark. I knew that the first time I entered the crypt at Chapel House. I could feel a presence there, almost as though someone stood just behind me, about to reach out and touch me. The shiver over my skin was not so much from fear, though certainly there was an element of fear, as it was from longing, bone-deep longing. I could barely breathe for it, I could barely stand under the weight of it, and I couldn’t imagine how such an ache, such a hunger could exist inside my flesh and not tear me apart. I was astonished that Annie seemed completely unaware of anything out of the ordinary, and to be quite honest, I wasn’t anxious to share it with her.

She continued to chatter on about her plans to make Chapel House over with a state of the art kitchen—she who didn’t cook, and a master suite that would rival the finest hotels in London. Strange that I could listen with one part of my brain and comment on her ideas for an open plan living space, for a library in the choir loft, for a wet room in the sacristy, while with another part of my brain I felt like every cell of my body was responding to whatever it was, whoever it was that I was certain waited there in the darkness, just beyond the beam of Annie’s Maglite.

The departmentalizing of Annie’s plans and the feel of the presence in the darkness became much more difficult when I felt the closeness of a warm, hard body against my back and the humid nip of a kiss on the nape of my neck. I explained away my little gasp of surprise to Annie by saying I’d almost lost my footing. I should have been frightened. I should have been terrified, and believe me, I was. But by the time I felt a large hand splayed low against my belly, by the time I was certain of the maleness pressed hard and low just above my butt, I was far more intrigued than I was frightened. Even if terror had won out, I don’t think I could have forced myself to move as the hand in the darkness migrated to cup my breasts and thumb my nipples, first one, then the other, and the slow grind and undulation from behind became more demanding.

“The roses, they smell lovely.” I managed a breathless response to Annie’s ramblings about plans for the overgrown mess of a garden. “You might want to consider a scent garden.”

She laughed. “I can’t smell anything, but then you were always the one with the sensitive nose. Of course I’ll make sure there are lots of roses.” She knew they were my favorite, but I couldn’t imagine her not smelling them; the scent was nearly overwhelming in the tight space of the crypt. To my surprise, as she rambled on about a patio with a Jacuzzi, the smell of roses was subsumed in my own scent and the humid, piquant scent of a man well aroused. The hand on my breast began a slow, torturous descent, and I wanted nothing more than for Annie to keep talking, keep planning, anything to keep her from dragging me away from this place, at least for a few more minutes.

I asked about the Jacuzzi, hoping that would give me another minute. By the time she got started about the sites she’d looked up online and the builders she’d talked to, I was rocking back against the hardness, craning my neck to yield as much bare skin as possible to teeth and tongue and lips all soft and warm and wet and sharp and hard and demanding. Oh, I tried to be as unobtrusive as possible, but looking back, I wonder how the hell Annie couldn’t see? How could she have missed it? But she rattled on and on about some builder just up the road near Keswick who was supposed to be really good, some guy named Michael. Like I gave a fuck.

The study suddenly felt stuffy and overheated, and Michael’s grip on my hand convulsed. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t look at me.

Magda paid little attention to either my discomfort or Michael’s. She just kept on reading.

He was cute, Annie said. That led to observations about this Michael’s broad shoulders and nice arse and speculation as to whether or not he would be any good in bed, and was it wise to seduce him before he put in her Jacuzzi or wait till after and seduce him in it. All the while I nodded and pretended to be interested.

I was thankful for the extra time, but Christ, how could she not notice me standing there, legs apart, rocking back and forth and shifting from foot to foot like I had ants in my knickers? In truth, what I wanted in my knickers surely couldn’t actually be there, and yet I felt it, fucking hell, how I felt it! I swear, I could feel muscle and sinew. Hell, I could feel the actual shape of an erection as though we were both naked, as though all he need do, this dark being who surely was just my imagination, was bend me over and open me, me struggling to keep my breathing quiet, me struggling to focus enough attention on my friend that she wouldn’t suspect I was about to come. Oh yes, I was terrified. I would have, should have, run, if I hadn’t been so intrigued, so turned on. I just wanted one more second, and then another and another.

In desperation that shocks me even now as I write this in the dark silence of Annie’s flat, I grabbed onto a wrist that I swear was as solid and warm as my own and guided the caress, the tease, the fondling of fingers and palm down my belly toward where I really needed it to be.

Annie yammered on about this Michael, all the things she’d heard about him, all the things she wanted to do to him—at least I think she did. My God, my whole body felt alive, every cell, every molecule. I could damn near feel the coursing of my own blood through my veins. You have no idea what an exhilarating combination fear and arousal make. I lost track of what Annie was saying, and the air was filled with the scent of sex. I could smell him, actually smell this phantom man, who was as near release as I was, and I was sure, as my knees gave beneath me, I felt the warm wet of his orgasm against my lower back. And then for an instant everything around me was silk and darkness, so perfect, so ecstatic. But just beyond that warm tight space, I knew. I knew as well as I know my own breath, I was terrified, and what I felt was like no terror I’d ever known before and, holy God in heaven, I want to feel it again.

And then I was shivering on my knees against the stone floor in the crypt at Chapel

House.

“Susan? Susan, you’re scaring me.” Annie’s worried face invaded my field of vision before she half-blinded me with her Maglite. “Are you all right? What the hell
happened?”

“Sorry, I got a little lightheaded there. Probably just blood sugar. I missed lunch,” I

lied, stumbling quickly to my feet, making a quick swipe at the back of my skirt, surprised to find it was dry. Glancing over my shoulder into the narrow beam of the Maglite, I saw only the empty darkness of the crypt and the tunnel that led back to the rusted barred door. But I was certain someone was there, someone I hungered for way more than I hungered for food. And I was equally certain that I would have Him.