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New releases by Larion Wills
Monday, December 10, 2007 7:18:00 PM
by Larriane Wills
| Action/Thriller |
| Mourning Meadow is out. Thirteen Souls and Mark of the Sire will be out soon. I will list them all as soon as they are available on Amazon.com |
Excerpt for Mourning Meadow
Candles lit the room and a fire was built, again courtesy of Kari and with the same degree of appreciation shown as there had been for the two meals she had provided for them. The four sat at a small table, Steven reluctantly. Kari's single refusal to join them had been accepted. His four attempts to refuse had been rejected. Even when Kari came in and took a seat off to the side on a delicate settee to watch in that intent way of hers, no invitations were made for her to join them at the table.
Caroleigh took charge. "We start by calling forth the spirit."
"How does one do that?" Evelyn asked.
"Here ghosty, ghosty," Edward teased, drawing a nervous giggle from Evelyn and a scowl from Caroleigh.
"Be serious or it won't work," Caroleigh ordered.
"I must say I'm not sure I want it to," Edward drawled. "He did give Emily rather a nasty start."
"Because she wasn't expecting it. It would help if we knew his name."
"I don't believe introductions were made, but one would assume it was daddy."
"One must never assume. Now join hands, close your eyes and concentrate." She waited long enough for her orders to be obeyed, then began. "Oh, spirit of the house, speak to us. Speak to us now."
They all fell into silence with the only other sound the abnormally loud ticking of a mantle clock. "Oh, spirit, speak to—"
A noise started. Low at first, it gained in volume as it drew nearer them. A sharp, irregular wail pierced the ears and a chilled cold swept over them, puckering flesh with goose bumps and causing chills.
"Oh," Evelyn gasped, letting go of hands to rub her arms and look around frantically as the sound grew in volume, heading towards them.
"Whatever…?" Edward began and strangled off with a gasp of his own.
The sound of a crash reverberated off the walls followed by a violent buck of the table beneath their hands. Edward was suddenly on his feet with another crash slamming their senses. Evelyn screamed, jumped to her feet, stood for a moment in indecision and then started to run. A split second later, she screamed again and fell with a thud to the floor. Before one scream faded, she screamed yet a third time when the room blazed into bright light.
Excerpt from Mark of the Sire; He jerked the blanket back from Chancy’s shoulders and paid no attention to Cathy as she got back to her feet at the foot of the bed. He was too pleased by what he saw. He smiled in satisfaction over the bandages and actually giggled before he told Chancy, “Think yar so smart. Guess ya know now.”
“Get away from him,” Cathy said coldly.
Sam glanced at her in annoyance and then looked back quickly, his eyes fixed on the gun she held. Chancy’s gun had been out of Fetchen’s line of vision, but she had known where it was.
“Gonna shoot me, huh?” he taunted still with the thought she was just a weak woman. She held the gun awkwardly with both hands, and he was sure she didn’t know how to use it, nor would have the courage to. He walked towards her, confident and menacing.
Cathy wasn’t afraid of him. She was furious over what he was doing and what he had done, the evidence in the scars on Chancy’s back. The gun was heavy and awkward, but she knew how it worked. She shifted her hand to hold the grip tightly with both hands and used both thumbs to pull the hammer. The hammer clicked into place and the gun exploded. The recoil pushed the weapon nearly to her nose. She staggered back, and Sam yelled while dancing a jig from the bullet that plowed into the floor inches from his feet.
“Careful afore ya hurt someone,” he yelled frantically.
Cathy recovered from the power of the gun quickly. “I’m going to hurt someone,” she growled at the same time she braced herself against the bed post and cocked the gun again.
Except of Thirteen Souls; Her insides melted, and her hands took on a life of their own, stroking through his hair and holding his luscious mouth closer to her and moaned softly as his tongue drew circles around her harden nipple. Her arms wrapped completely around his head when he took her breast into the warm depths of his mouth and his tongue flickered across the tip. Her legs opened further when his hand went lower. Any pretense of light banter was forgotten. Right or wrong, safe or dangerous, she gave herself to him and the fire he ignited in her, fed by the fire she lit in him that would not wait for convenience to satisfy. Her pants went as far as her ankles, hung up on her boot tops, but it gave him access. He fumbled to get the condom in place, and his pants only went below the cheeks of his butt and only because she pushed them that far to caress and clinch the contracting muscles that drove him into her carrying her from melted to molten eruption.
While his fingers stroked, calming her in the aftermath, she asked, “No one ever told you that?”
“Told me what?” he asked lazily.
“What a fantastic lover you are.”
He came up on one elbow to look down at her face. “I’m not usually so…” He hesitated with the corner of his mouth twitching. “…horny.”
“You are…” She gave him a quick kiss and rolled up to sit on the side of the bed, “…a raging stallion.”
“Not usually,” he said seriously and then asked, “Have you had many experiences with which to make a comparison?”
“Nothing compares,” she answered quickly. Just as quickly she pulled her pants up. She knew very well that out of her hearing she was often called an icicle.
“Many lovers?”
“Do you think that’s a safe place to go?” she asked and stood to hold her pants to her waist.
“No, but I’d like to know.”
She stared at him while she decided what she would say, how much truth and how much lie.
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larriane/larion wills
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