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Wildfire would like to welcome you to a special EPPIE edition. Joining us this week are EPPIE winners Paty Jager, Jet Mykles, L.C. Monroe, Laura Baumbach, Liana Laverentz, Marie-Nicole Ryan, Angela Caperton, Bianca D'Arc, Mary Wine, Ciara Gold and Pam Champagne along with guest interviewer, Brenna Lyons, President of EPIC. EPIC, the Electronically Published Internet Connection, is a professional organization for published and contracted eBook and print authors. It was established to provide a strong voice for electronic publishing. The EPPIE is the longest-standing and most-inclusive award of its type. eBooks released for sale, no matter whether self-published, from indie/e-publishers, or from New York publishers, are welcome to compete, and the EPPIE boasts twenty-two categories of books. For the last nine years, EPIC has awarded the EPPIE to award excellence in e-published books and the QUASAR to award excellence in their cover art. They are commonly held as the premiere awards in epublishing. It is our pleasure and honor to congratulate this year's winners. Brenna: How did you find out you were nominated for an EPPIE? What went through your mind the instant you found out you'd won? Where is your EPPIE now? Paty Jager: I found out I was nominated when I received an e-mail. When they walked up on the stage with two EPPIES I thought, "Wow I have a 50/50 chance of winning. Then they said my name and the person I tied with, who happened to be an author from my publishing house and I was ecstatic. My EPPIE sits on my desk, so I can look at it as I work on another book. Jet Mykles: Someone posted a congratulations email to Loose Id's Yahoo group. I read the names listed and kind of had to read it again to make sure I saw it right. I had to visit the EPIC site to make doubly sure before I let myself think it was true. But then it was and I remember thinking "oh very cool!" The EPPIE is currently sitting on an overcrowded desk in my bedroom, but that's only because we're remodeling. Once I get my new office, it'll get a special place on the shelves behind my desk. The SO is even planning on how to light it. L.C. Monroe [aka Lucy Monroe]: A friend of mine emailed me to tell me that I'd been nominated. I had to find the official list and check it to confirm my finalist status because I was so surprised. I was even more astonished to realize I'd won. I kind of thought the anthology nominated in my category would win. I mean how could one story compete against a group of them? LOL My EPPIE is in my dining room on display until I'm sure everyone has seen it, then it will be moved to my office for inspiration. Laura Baumbach: I heard the finalist list was posted from an author group I belong to for one of my publishers. I had seen the list the day before and I wasn't on it, but this was a corrected list that had several more finalists for my category, GLBT, added. I couldn't believe I was on it since I'd already spent the last day consoling myself for not placing on the original list. <g> What went through your mind the instant you found out you'd won? Honest? I gotta go to Portland! What's in Portland? Where is your EPPIE now? On my desk beside me. I don't want the cat' kids/earthquakes to knock it over and break it. Liana Laverentz: I found out via an email from Carol MacLeod. I don't know where my EPPIE is now, as I was unable to attend the conference in Portland J. But I'm sure it's en route, and when it arrives, it will go front and center on the top shelf of my desk, right next to my Golden Leaf Award for Thin Ice, so that I can look up from the monitor and see it every day. On those days when things might not be going so well, and it feels like I can't string a simple sentence together, the awards will be there to remind me, "Just have faith. You've done it in the past, and you can do it again." Marie-Nicole Ryan: I first heard I'd been nominated by e-mail from EPIC. As for what went through my mind when I found out I'd won was it was a mistake. I first heard it through the Samhain authors' loop. Delle Jacobs who lived in the Portland area actually attended the ceremony. She was the one who broke the news. I then heard it from a second source, but the EPIC web site hadn't been updated yet. It was several hours before it was official. As for where my EPPIE is now? I hope it's somewhere between Portland and Nashville. Due to the distance and my abject fear of flying, I wasn't able to attend the ceremony. Once it makes its way to my hands, it will have a place of honor, for sure. Angela Caperton: I received a wonderful email from Carol MacLeod, the EPPIE Committee chair. I was completely stunned. I had not had a particularly good week as a writer and was questioning my sanity about my chosen vocation, so when I woke up that morning, opened my email and saw that Woman of the Mountain had been selected as a finalist, all those doubts and concerns flew out the window. Unable to attend the award ceremony in Portland, the morning after I woke to an email from my publisher telling me that Woman of the Mountain had won. It's probably a good thing I don't have neighbors nearby, because the cry I let out was loud enough to set off car alarms! The first thing that went through my mind was, "I did it! It IS a good story!" As yet, I don't have my EPPIE in my hands, but from what I'm told, it's on its way! When it does arrive, we'll see if I can let it out of my hands within the first week. I already have a pillow ready for it on my bed. <g> Seriously, it will go on my mantle. I am very proud to have won the award and I want everyone to know! Bianca D'Arc: I was watching the EPIC site for the announcement of finalists. I'd won an EPPIE last year for one of my dragon books – which was a stunner for me – and I was sort of cautiously optimistic that maybe I'd be able to Final again. When I saw my book's title up there I was thrilled! When I found out I won, I started happy dancing right then and there, and have been smiling ever since. I don't actually have this year's statue yet because I couldn't attend the conference, but when I get it, it will join the beautiful statue that sits in a place of honor next to my computer to cheer me when I'm feeling low. Mary Wine: I confess that I was prowling my email account, waiting for the list of nominations to come through. This award was something that I had been working towards for some time. Ciara Gold: I belong to several reader/writer loops, including Texas ARF (Authors of Romantic Fiction). So my first clue was the huge congratulations I received from member Linda Mooney. Naturally I was floored and ecstatic and literally jumping up and down and that was just the nomination for finalist. For the actual win, I opened my private e-mail Monday morning and the first thing that caught my eye was the subject line; you won the Eppie! That e-mail was from the Champagne reader, Kat Hall. I blinked and searched the other subject lines to find another from one of my crit partners, Ginger Simpson and it read; Standing Ovation. So I rush to open them both and screamed! Really. Right now, the EPPIE emblem is plastered on my website and myspace and even the Champagne title page. Pam Champagne: Hi Brenna! I looked every day for a week on the EPIC website. Had to sit down when I saw my name there. I haven't received the Eppie yet, but when it arrives, I'll put it on a shelf above my writing area! Brenna: How long have you been writing? How many other books/stories have you published? Paty Jager: I've been writing to get published for about ten years. I have two other books published and one to be released in June. Jet Mykles: I've been writing most of my life. I've only been published since 2005. I have 23 books/stories published as of right now, with about six more promised or contracted. L.C. Monroe [aka Lucy Monroe]: I've been writing over 13 years now. I published my first novel with Harlequin Presents in 2003 and have had more than three dozen books published by four different houses since. Laura Baumbach: I've been published for about five years now. I have seven novels, eight anthologies and five short stories out. I write for six different publishers. Liana Laverentz: I have been writing for twenty years, off and on. I have two other novels published, Jake's Return, a contemporary romance with The Wild Rose Press, and Ashton's Secret, which was released many years ago, and will be re-released by The Wild Rose Press in late 2008. Marie-Nicole Ryan: I started my first novel back in 1999. It took eighteen months to write and was 142 thousand words in the first draft. It took a lot of (ahem) intestinal fortitude, but I trimmed it to 128 thousand words. Too Good To Be True was my fourth published book, my first with Samhain Publishing. I have three other books which were published by another publisher, Wings ePress. Two of them are still with Wings. Samhain has re-released one of them, Love On The Run. Angela Caperton: I've been writing for years but for my own amusement and that of a few friends. I made my first serious shot at publication a little over two years ago with Inspiration, an erotic story set in Renaissance Italy. I was pleasantly surprised when eXstasy accepted it for publication! Since then, they've published Woman of the Mountain and my newest book, The Passions of Pearl. Bianca D'Arc: My first eBook came out on Valentine's Day of 2006. Since then, I've had five Dragon Knights books, two Resonance Mates books, three paranormals, two sci-fi, and one fey tale published, in addition to four others that are now out of print. Mary Wine: I have a large backlist with Elloras Cave and Samhain. I've been writing for about five years now and it has been my privilege to find favor with my publishers. I just love what I do so much. Ciara Gold: I've been writing seriously four about seven years, but I think the joy of writing has been with me since sixth grade. I used to write all sorts of poems when I was younger. At present I have five e-books published with one in print, but by the time this interview goes live, I will have two more published. Kaitlin's Silver Lining is the fourth in a related set of historical westerns and will release April 1 in 3-book form. Once Jilted will release prior to that one and is part of an anthology from Champagne books about heroines who all rode the orphan train together and make a pact to reunite ten years later. Once Jilted will be available in both e-book format and print. And, within the next few days, weeks, Champagne is putting A Noble Sacrifice in print with the Eppie emblem on the cover. I'm thrilled about that. A Noble Sacrifice is the first Eppie win for my publisher, so yep, it's been a party all week at Champagne. Pam Champagne: Discounting the few years I attempted to write romance novels back in the late 70's, I began writing in earnest in 2005 – the year I broke my ankle and needed three operations. While recuperating, I read numerous books and decided to write one of my own. Since that time, I have four full-length published stories, three novellas and a short story. Brenna: How do you write? Are you a plotter or pantser? Do you have a plot-driven process or character-driven? Do you write linear or not? One project at a time or multiple? Paty Jager: I'm a plantser! LOL I do a little bit of charts to get my characters clear in my head. And then I stew and brew the characters and the story in my head and when the perfect place to start the story comes to me, I start writing. Most of my stories are character driven, but once in a while a plot driven story will sneak into my repertoire. I'm pretty linear. I start at the beginning and work straight through to the end. I usually have one project I'm writing and a couple that are brewing in my head. Jet Mykles: I am 100% character driven pantser. I have these people who show up in my brain and demand that I watch them then tell their story. They don't always tell me ALL of the story at the beginning—in fact, they rarely do. Sometimes they give me a bit of a hint of the end but that's only if they're feeling generous. I tend to write linear once I do get into it, though, since I'm watching the story unfold. And I tend to stick to one project at a time, although I have been known to overlap. L.C. Monroe [aka Lucy Monroe]: I call myself the schizophrenic writer because sometimes I like to plot, but most of the time I write by the seat of my pants. And sometimes I even combine the two approaches. I write from beginning to end and can't imagine writing scenes out of sequence because for me every scene builds on the one before it, which is why even small revisions are usually a whole book process for me. I prefer to concentrate on one new project at a time, though past ones pop up throughout the process in the form of copyedits, line edits, galleys, promotion, etc. To read the entire interview with the Eppie winners click here! ***ARe—The eBookclub October Offer*** Get Your Free Copy of For Old Times' Sake Today! 
The first-fifty-free coupon code is: ARE2008080M Join us on April 10th 9:00 p.m. in the ARe chat room for our next meeting of ARe—The eBookclub and meet the author, Sarah Winn!
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Eppie Winning Excerpts
Thin Ice by Liana Laverentz©All Rights ReservedWebsite: www.lianalaverentz.com"I want you to kiss me, Emily."The fire inside her rekindled.He released her hands and held his up in surrender. "I'll even keep these behind my back if you want me to.""Eric, this isn't necessary," she said in embarrassment."Oh, but it is. For whatever reason, it is, and tonight I'm playing by your rules. Now, where do you want my hands?"Loaded, question, that. But she looked into his eyes and found them clear and direct. This wasn't a game to him. This wasn't teasing. This was real. "Behind my back," she whispered.He opened his arms. She stepped forward and placed her hands on his chest. His cable knit sweater was soft beneath her palms, a sharp contrast to the hard strength it concealed. He spread his legs to accommodate her, then slid his hands around her down parka, linked them at the back of her waist and pulled her close."Perfect," he murmured."How so?" she asked uneasily, thankful the thickness of her coat prevented direct body contact.He chuckled. "Because I've wanted to give you a hug for weeks, Emily Jordan. I don't think I've met anyone who deserved one more."Wonder replaced wariness. She leaned back and looked into his dark eyes. "You're serious."He tucked her head against his chest, settled his arms around her again and closed his eyes. "Dead serious."For the longest time he simply held her. Security settled around Emily like a warm blanket. She could have stood there for hours, cocooned in his arms, listening to the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear, smelling the clean, musky scent of him mingled with the faint smell of leather and the crisp chill of winter. Only the idea of her son wondering aloud to a group of strangers what might've happened to them made her pull away.Eric dropped his hands to his sides and smiled. "See? Told you I wouldn't bite." At her sheepish look, he grinned. "Now, how about that kiss?"Emily smiled. "Something tells me your storehouse of slick moves isn't limited to those you use on the ice, Mr. Cameron."He laughed, a deep, hearty, happy sound that made Emily want to join in. Instead she looped her arms around his neck and drew his head down to meet hers, taking him by surprise.She kissed him six times, her hands moving to frame his face and brush back his chestnut brown hair after the second kiss. Each time, she studied his face first, fascinated by the restraint she saw in his features, his refusal to take control. Shamelessly she experimented, her last kiss a hedonistic freefall that left her breathless and weak-kneed."Enough," Eric moaned, sinking against the Suburban, keeping a steadying grip on Emily's elbows. For a long minute they stood there, heads bowed, breathing uneven. When she finally found the courage to look into his face, she found not the cool mockery she'd come to expect in the past...but tenderness and open delight.And it terrified her. Megan's Chance by Lucy Monroe©All Rights ReservedWebsite: www.lucymonroe.comShe was going to drive him crazy. She'd only been there a few hours and Meagan had already upset his neatly ordered life. If he wasn't so grateful to her for watching Jason and Mandy for him, Adam would be tempted to shout. He never shouted.It had all started innocently enough. Jake and Patty invited everyone out to eat. Jason asked if they could go to McDonalds. He of course had said, "No." Meagan had wheedled him into it. There was no other word for it. She wheedled. First she commented how much she liked their fries. Then she rubbed her stomach saying how she could really go for a Big Mac. Finally, the decision was taken out of his hands when Jake announced they were going to McDonalds. Hungry women had to be fed. The evidence of Meagan's growling stomach could not be denied.If that wasn't bad enough here he sat on the couch watching Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang with Meagan and two children that should have been in bed an hour ago. This time Meagan hadn't wheedled. She'd used logic and guilt."You're going to be gone and the children will miss you. Surely they can stay up a little past their bed time to spend some quality time with you."Watching an old movie was quality time? Jason and Mandy seemed to think so. They had both nearly gone through the roof when he agreed."Dad, this is so cool."Jason's voice broke through Adam's irritated thoughts. His nine year-old son snuggled against him eating pop corn. It had been popped on top of the stove. Meagan wouldn't use the microwave popcorn. She said it was unnatural.It felt good to hug his son.Mandy yawned and scooted to cuddle against his other side. "Yeah, this is fun."Adam smiled down at her. His daughter was keeping her eyes open by sheer willpower. Certain she'd lose the battle any time, he laid his arm around her shoulders to support her head.Meagan sat on the other side of the white sectional watching the movie. He could have watched her instead of the television screen. Her mobile features displayed every new development in the plot. When the children were tricked into the jailer's wagon, she leaned forward intent on the screen."Don't listen to him. Can't you tell by that nose that he's the bad guy?"Adam couldn't help it. He laughed. "I thought you said you had seen this before."Sitting back on the sofa, Meagan pulled a cushion in front of her and held it in her lap. "I have. It's one of my all time favorite movies.""Then you do know that everything turns out all right?"She looked at him askance. "Of course I know that, but the children don't""Jason and Mandy have seen it before too.""I didn't mean them."She meant the children in the movie. "Meagan, they're actors.""I know that." She sounded offended. Too Good to be True by Marie Nicole Ryan©All Rights ReservedWebsite: www.marienicoleryan.comCallahan eased into the water beside her, holding to the side as if he were afraid to let go."What's the matter? Rilla asked. "Don't you swim?""No." "Then you need to learn.""Why?""Everybody ought to know how to swim. It's easy. Even little babies can learn." She splashed some water in his face. Callahan shook his head. "It's been a long time since I was a baby. I've forgotten."She laughed. "Chicken." With practiced ease, she backstroked away from him. "Come on. Come to me. I'm not far. Push off from the side, put your hands out in front like this." She stretched her arms out, hands together in a V. "And let your body float to me. I'll catch you."He glanced toward the pool deck. "Where are Katie and Lloyd? They need a good laugh.""If you'll just do it, you can be swimming before they come out."His dark brows drew into a frown. "You'll let me drown.""I assure you I won't. I was a lifeguard at the country club when I was in high school. It would be morally impossible for me to let you drown, even if you are a real pain in the behind.""Harsh, but true." He grinned. Did anything ever make him stop smiling? "All right. I'm trusting you with my life." She watched as he pushed off from the side of the pool, arms in front as she'd directed. He reached her and snaked his arms around her, pulling her up against his chest. A thin scrap of fabric was all that separated her tensing nipples from his bare, muscular chest. Could he tell?She felt the quick hammering of his heart against hers. Her hands splayed down his chest while his blue-as-the-pool eyes shone with merriment.It hit her. "You can swim, can't you?" she murmured, strangely unwilling to let him go even if he had tricked her.Callahan grinned. "Yeah. I knew it was the only way I was going to get you in my arms tonight."He wanted her in his arms? A heady rush of warmth pooled in her belly. Her body molded against his—like they were made for each other—twin keys for the same lock.She looked into his eyes, his gaze soft and warm. The heat built and shimmered between them. His muscled thigh was between hers—when did that happen? Instinctively she pressed against him and a thrill of pleasure shot to her core. She clung to him, her fingers kneading into his shoulders. Her lips parted. More than anything she wanted to taste him, rub against his hard erection and take him inside… She took a ragged breath."Woo hoo. Look at them, Lloyd." Katie Bass's shrill voice rang out. "I think they're already in love."Hastily Rilla pulled away from Mac and swam for the opposite side of the pool. "Come on in, you two. The water's great." The Lost Temple Of Karttikeya by Laura Baumbach©All Rights Reserved
Website: www.laurabaumbach.com/
"It grants your heart's fondest desires." Audra Phelan glanced at the empty display case, then transferred her penetrating gaze to Brandon's face. He could feel the intensity of it studying every angle and furrow in his expression. It was unnerving, as if she could see his aching heart straight through his skin. "At least," she softly added, "according to the legend."
"Legend? Fairy tales for broken hearts?" Brandon scoffed, but the unflinching certainty in the tall, prim woman's expression and body language made him stare at the small gold statue huddled in the midst of an entire glass wall of statues all the same.
There were at least a dozen artifacts in the case. One bronze cauldron, a crystal flacon, an elegant totem, a glass octopus, and a beautiful primitive carving made out of some raw yellow-orange material he didn't recognize. They all were fascinating to look at, beautiful, artistic, and varied, but the golden god was the one that drew his attention the most. It was almost like the statue had an unseen magnetic pull that tugged on the iron in his very blood.
Housed in the sitting room where they were conducting interviews about the robbery, the statue's golden hues and intricate design of six legs, six arms, and three heads on a jewel-encrusted body sitting astride a colorful peacock, had pulled Brandon to it and now he couldn't walk away.
"If so, it's a very powerful fairy tale."
That same vaguely knowing tone in the woman's voice reached out and squeezed Brandon's gut. It was like she had some secret knowledge she didn't dare share with the rest of the world. It made his teeth ache and his stomach queasy. He told himself it was the pocketful of candy and large coffee he'd downed on the way here.
"One that's been written about throughout the ages." Phelan ran a finger reverently along the edge of the display case. "This one is just a reproduction, but the original statue is part of a whole that has been reported to have changed the course of history."
Holt was still occupied with interviewing the estate's head butler. Brandon knew it would be some time before he was finished with the talkative older man. He let the new mystery and the increasingly intriguing woman at his side have his attention.
God, she reminded him of his fifth grade teacher, Ms. Bartholomew. Prettier, but with the same critical stare that made him squirm. She had introduced herself as the curator of the present artifacts and the currently unavailable owner's personal assistant. He bet this one was a spinster, too. Too rigid and scholarly to have a life outside of academia.
Phelan gave Brandon an appraising look. He felt like he failed her evaluation for some reason. "Betrayal, loss, and love have motivated armies and entire nations through time." He watched as her eyes narrowed slightly. "You look like a man who knows about those feelings." Rated X-mas: Spiritual Noelle by Jet Mykles©All Rights ReservedWebsite: www.jetmykles.com/He reared up on his knees, grabbing my arms to yank me nose to nose with him. "I'm not gay!""Are you sure?""What the hell is that supposed to mean?"I was committed now. "I've seen you around Jake. You guys are so close –""We're close, so that means we're gay?!""Daniel, that's not all there is. The way you two …"His nostrils flared. His eyes went wide, then narrowed. Quick as a viper, he hauled me up to his chest and forced his lips on mine.I'd known this was a possible reaction. I'd be a hypocrite to say that a part of me didn't want it. The few touches I'd been allowed on that beautiful body hadn't done anything to lessen my desire to rub against him like a cat in heat. I probably should have backed away and forced him to talk to me, but oh, even if his kiss did mash my teeth into my lips, he felt good.At first he was punishing me, pressing his lips to mine and holding me pinned. I think it was when I clutched his waist, or maybe it was when a happy little moan escaped my throat, that the kiss changed. He backed off from the hurt and tilted his head for better access. I went with him, opening my lips to suck in his bottom lip. It was his turn for a little moan as he opened his mouth on mine, disengaging his lips to make room for his tongue to plunge in. Finally he released the harsh grip on my arms, sliding one hand up to cup the back of my skull and slipping the other around my waist to hold me up against him. Sweet Goddess! His chest was hard and his arms were strong and he tasted so darn good. I cursed the layers of clothing that prevented me from feeling his hardness against my bare skin.I wrapped my arms around his neck and desperately devoured his mouth.He bent a bit and wound an arm around underneath my rear end. He lifted me slightly so he could tilt my body and gently lower me to the rug, without ever breaking the kiss.I gratefully accepted his weight as he settled on top of me, arms coming up under my back to hold me. I parted my legs and threw them around his waist, that eager to hold him close.He managed to pry our lips apart, but had to bring a hand up to peel my arm from around his neck to do it.I whimpered, switching my lips to his neck. I folded my fingers with his to keep his hand from pushing me away. When I bit his earlobe, he groaned."Noelle …""Please, Daniel, please." I heard the begging in my voice and didn't care. I wasn't above begging for this. "Please.""We can't …""We can.""Jake …""You could call him back."©2006 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved Perfectly Good Nanny by Paty Jager©All Rights Reserved
Website: www.patyjager.com/
"You have no right to come here and criticize how I raise my children." He took three long strides toward her. "Do they look abused or neglected to you?" Towering over
her, he glared at her upturned face. How dare she question him?
She didn't back away or down.
"Your daughter ordering a nanny screams of neglect to me," Carina retorted with steel in her voice.
Her reaction puzzled him.
"She had help." He did feel remorse his daughter knew what she needed and he didn't.
"But you knew nothing about it." She threw her hands in the air, turned away then swung back around. "If you supervised your children as you say you do, she wouldn't have been able to arrange for a nanny and have one arrive without your knowledge."
She was right, but he'd never admit it. He was a bad excuse for a father, but his love for this land and his children tore him in two–they both needed him.
Brock rubbed a hand over his face and backed away from the woman who made him see himself in an unfavorable light. "I know," he mumbled.
"You know what?" she stepped close. He could smell her perfume mixed with the scent of baby powder.
"I know I'm not around enough, but they also need fed and clothed and this god-forsaken land is what puts food on the table and clothes on their backs."
"But they need you, too." Her face softened. "Physical contact is just as important as food and shelter." She reached out rubbing his arm. "You're a wonderful father when you're with the children. And I've no doubt Maddie had a terrific time with you today."
The energy her touch set off frightened him. God help him. Between the zing of her touch and the passion in her words, his body overruled his good sense.
Grasping her shoulders, he pulled her to him and held her against his chest, breathing in the scent of her. It felt good to hold a woman again. Especially, one who'd just given him such high praise, even if it was afterraking him up one side and down the other.
Bed of Lies by Pam ChampagneWebsite: www.pamchampagne.netThe four-by-four SUV bumped its way across the fields toward its destination. Sure enough, thick gray smoke spiraled from the chimney. He drove into a thicket of alder bushes, wincing as branches scratched the SUV's doors. Funny how he'd regressed into the past. He'd always hidden his truck back then and automatically did so now.Bag under one arm, Ace walked to the door. The cabin had been built with only one window, and it wasn't in the front. Stupid design. Man should be able to see who came knocking at the door. He rapped on the wood and waited fifteen seconds. "Brenna, I know you're in there. Open the damn door."The hinges squeaked as the door swung open, and Ace looked down the cold metal of a shotgun barrel.Brenna's lips curved into a semblance of a smile. Cold blue eyes dominated her heart-shaped face. "Well, I'll be damned," she drawled, her grip tightening on the shotgun. "As I live and breathe, if it isn't Ace Bear in the flesh. Thought I saw you in the church. Get back in your truck and leave. I'm not in the mood for visitors."Words stuck in his throat. He'd imagined many scenarios of their first meeting. Being at the receiving end of a loaded shotgun wasn't one of them.Beneath the layers of anger on her face lurked the pain of a wounded deer. Beautiful dark hair so recently wound into curls and pinned high had escaped to cascade over her shoulders. Hairpins stuck out here and there. A few remaining curls sat precariously on top of her head like a cockeyed hat. Smeared eye makeup gave her the appearance of having two black eyes. Her skin was paler than it had been when she walked down the aisle, and she still wore the voluminous wedding dress splotched with blood. His fingers itched to rip it from her body and burn the damn thing. Bare toes peeked out from under the hem."Put down the damn gun, Brenna. You know better than to point a weapon at someone you don't intend to shoot."Sweat beaded at his hairline. He hoped he hadn't misjudged her. After all, he hadn't seen her in years and people did change. If she blew him away, he had only himself to blame. "I'm here to help you," he continued, striving for a calm tone.Anger, then fear, raced across her face. With a sigh of acceptance, she lowered the shotgun, turned and placed it on the wobbly kitchen table. Ace stepped into the cabin and kicked the door shut. The resounding slam echoed throughout the small area.The paper bag crackled as he put it on the table next to the gun. "Sit down." In a show of rare obedience, she sank into the chair he'd pulled away from the table.Who was this woman? The one he'd once known would have told him to shove it up his ass. Woman of the Mountain by Angela Caperton©All Rights ReservedWebsite: www.angelacaperton.comHe felt the drums inside his cock and he realized he still held it in his hand, and that his tunic had been pushed aside to free his erection. Rivah followed his gaze with hers. She smiled when she saw what he had and she did not hesitate. Fingertips like the kiss of silk, her hand stroked the shaft with accurate abandon, teasing the ridge and rubbing the bead in a smooth circle. He growled and took her arms. The heat of her body was a summons he could not refuse, the whisper of her gossamer robe a call to his soul and to all the lust Zenthe had kindled in him. He felt no tenderness, none of the sweet sensations that had marked his time with Benessa and Janee. He wanted to crush Rivah beneath him, wanted to thrust his cock into her as hard and deep as he could, until she screamed, he wanted to bite her hard enough to bruise, and he knew she wanted these things too. With teeth bared, Rivah tore his tunic aside and pulled him to her, her hand guiding his cock. She climbed him, her sandaled foot finding brief purchase on his leg, then his butt as her leg wrapped him, her robe rising around her waist, pulling him to the wall, bracing herself against a table, half sitting on it, her coppery thatch a beacon above the open slit of her cunt. She stroked the doorway and opened it for him, her other hand under his cock, lifting and g uiding. Then he was in her, with no ceremony, no skill at all, a hard shaft of flesh ruthless as a sword, burying itself in a sheath of slippery fire. Wet heat and a shot of pleasure almost unbearable in its intensity raced to his core and gathered in the muscles of his back. He tore the robe from her, so that his hands might find what they wanted, nothing less than every inch of her radiant, perfect flesh. He gripped her hips hard, pulling her against him, burying his cock even deeper, feeling the sharp thrust of her torso, the arch of her back when she ground against him. One thrust, two, the drums kept the rhythm, then they were in a place where the only rhythm was their own, as savage and hard as the mating of panthers. Her fingernails furrowed lines in his back and his buttocks tensed hard as he thrust deeper still, the table cracking with the force he brought against her. She screamed and tore at him, riding him as much as he impaled her, their flesh one in that moment of pleasure so intense he lost vision as his spirit rocketed toward the stars. . .To read all of the Eppie winning excerpts click here!
Sent: Mar 21, 2008
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