MIDNIGHT MISTLETOE
(The Golden Pack Alphas, Book I)
AUTHOR: Laurel Cremant
GENRE: Paranormal
Romance
LENGTH: Short Story
PUBLISHER: Winged Moon Publishing
BLURB:
WARNING:
This short novelette/short story of 8,000 words is the first book in this
serial and contains snarky dialogue, extremely inappropriate uses of mistletoe,
alpha HEROINES and the weres smart enough to chase them.
All were-hybrid, Georgia Walker wants for Christmas is to spend some time away from her pack and in particular, away from one increasingly dangerous enforcer turned Beta. She has every intention of spending her days basking in the warm Caribbean sun and indulging in an island fling, or two. Anything to forget the way a certain were made her pulse race and skin tingle.
Marcus Legrand has only one goal this holiday season, bring Georgia home and finally claim her for his own. Convincing the strong willed ice princess will take all of his skill and patience, but Marcus is no stranger to hunting prey. He has every intention of putting both his rank and heart on the line.
All were-hybrid, Georgia Walker wants for Christmas is to spend some time away from her pack and in particular, away from one increasingly dangerous enforcer turned Beta. She has every intention of spending her days basking in the warm Caribbean sun and indulging in an island fling, or two. Anything to forget the way a certain were made her pulse race and skin tingle.
Marcus Legrand has only one goal this holiday season, bring Georgia home and finally claim her for his own. Convincing the strong willed ice princess will take all of his skill and patience, but Marcus is no stranger to hunting prey. He has every intention of putting both his rank and heart on the line.
EXCERPT:
Taking a deep breath, she reached
her arms overhead, arched her back and inhaled the balmy salted air.
She could almost hear her muscles
sigh, but despite the relaxation attempting to spread through her limbs, her
body tingled with a tension she knew settled too deep.
Her heat cycle was starting, and
there was nothing she could do to relieve the discomfort.
Well almost nothing.
Dropping her hands back down to her
sides, she swept her gaze across the small beach. It wasn’t crowded but had a
fair number of sunbathers and Zen cravers. And most importantly it had men
looking for the same thing she was—a little fun, forgetfulness and zero
strings.
Although heat pooled to her center,
her stomach rolled in apprehension.
In the past she’d had no problems
with finding a willing male to sleep with when she was in heat. She enjoyed
sex, and although each year her parents hoped she would chose a permanent mate,
no man in or outside of her pack inspired much feeling or devotion. At least
not enough for her to be shackled to for life.
But last year, because of The-Wolf-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named,
no one appealed to her.
Instead of rolling around for
several hours with a well-endowed chosen playmate, she’d remained locked in her
home for days with her vibrator and a healthy supply of batteries.
She had no intentions of repeating
the experience. This week, she planned on proving to both her body and wolf,
that Marcus wasn’t the only man capable of making her hot.
Her gaze combed the area, looking
for a good candidate.
One particular man caught her eye.
He’d been swimming for the last
hour, his caramel arms cutting through the water in languid strokes. But now he
rose out of the surf resembling a naughty sea nymph, his strong legs leading up
to deep blue board shorts. Dry, she guessed the swimming trunks were perfectly
modest—but wet they molded to his thick muscled thighs and cupped his cock in a
way that left very little to the imagination. And since Georgia’s imagination
was better than the average wolf’s she bit back a groan and clenched her thighs
tight.
Yum.
Pushing her sunglasses up to her
hair, she licked her lips as her gaze traced the diamond bright droplets of
water running down his hard chest. They sluiced down his body, aided by the
tight ridges of muscles along his abdomen, tunneling down to what looked like
one hell of a stocking stuffer.
Merry Christmas to me.
Yes, an island getaway was proving
to be the perfect holiday treat.
Her gaze meandered back up his chest
and after making a brief note of thick smooth lips and tempting dimples, she
made eye contact with her merman come to life.
His eyes gleamed with interest and
her lips turned up in her best come-hither smile. He took a step forward and
then froze, his gaze focusing on something just over her left shoulder. Shaking
his head he turned and continued walking down the beach.
What the hell!
She frowned at his retreating back.
Admittedly she was no super model but, she’d never had a problem with luring
men her way.
A long shadow fell over her and it
was her turn to freeze. Despite blocking out the sun, a heated scorch rippled
down her body as the approaching shadow crept down her body. Her nipples
pebbled to thick points, her pussy clenched and a slow growl worked its way up
her throat.
Only one thing made her body react
this way and she’d deliberately left it back in Golden Valley.
“Hello Gigi. Miss me?”
BUY LINKS:
Barnes
& Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/midnight-mistletoe-laurel-cremant/1117794339?ean=2940148969877
WYNTER’S FALL
(WYNTER TALES, Book I)
AUTHOR: Laurel Cremant
GENRE: Modern
Fairy Tale Romance
LENGTH: Novella
PUBLISHER: Winged Moon Publishing
BLURB:
An
unsuspecting mortal, A Keeper of Dreams, And a group of Gods intent on
reclaiming powers they no longer deserve...
Melania Wynter has a big problem, the man of her actual dreams is becoming all too real. Determined to gain back some control over her life, she hopes that a a little vacation will be enough for her psyche to stop comparing her real life to the vivid dreams she's had since childhood. But one patch of ice, a solid pine tree and a nasty bump on the head derail her plans.
Daiomone, Keeper of Dreams has always been drawn to Melania. He's bided his time, waiting for her to cross-over to his realm, but manipulative God's have interfered in unexpected ways. With a helping hand from fate, he must go to Melania and keep her safe.
Together they must navigate the wilderness and survive both the cold and trouble-making Gods.
Melania Wynter has a big problem, the man of her actual dreams is becoming all too real. Determined to gain back some control over her life, she hopes that a a little vacation will be enough for her psyche to stop comparing her real life to the vivid dreams she's had since childhood. But one patch of ice, a solid pine tree and a nasty bump on the head derail her plans.
Daiomone, Keeper of Dreams has always been drawn to Melania. He's bided his time, waiting for her to cross-over to his realm, but manipulative God's have interfered in unexpected ways. With a helping hand from fate, he must go to Melania and keep her safe.
Together they must navigate the wilderness and survive both the cold and trouble-making Gods.
EXCERPT:
“Melania, you need to snap out of
it.”
She tensed as Daimone’s voice filled
her head again. Reaching up, she touched the throbbing knot on her head and
moaned.
It was official. She’d finally gone
off the deep end. “This is so not happening.”
His deep chuckle resonated through
her mind. “Ignoring me won’t make me go away.”
She huddled tighter against her
drawn up legs.
“Trust me. I know,” she mumbled.
He was a major contributing factor
in her need for rest and relaxation. Her trip had been a last ditch effort
before she threw in the proverbial towel and saw a therapist regarding her
little problem.
However, now thanks to a stupid
patch of ice, her brain was scrambled and her dream man on the loose. Somewhere
on WebMD, there must be a section dedicated to her current condition. It
would be a perfectly descriptive affliction that fit her every symptom to a
“T”.
Ohshititis—hallucinations and
hysteria brought on by extreme situations and chronic bad luck.
“You need to get moving, love.”
Why not just go with it? Considering her circumstances, she was, after all, due for
a little hysteria.
“Well, excuse me if I want to take a
moment to recover from a death-defying event here.”
“The storm is coming closer,
love. You have to get moving.”
Lifting her head, she peered up into
the thick veil of snow falling all around her. She blinked rapidly as a flurry
of snowflakes drifted down on her face with, she was sure, a type of maniacal
glee.
“The clock is ticking, Princess.”
“First of all, you are so not
the boss of me. You’re not even real. You’re just a figment of my imagination.”
“We really don’t have time to
discuss this right now.”
“Wait, I’m still unconscious, aren’t
I?”
She glanced back at her car,
partially expecting to see a specter of herself slumped over the wheel.
His long sigh drifted through her
mind. She could almost feel his breath tickle the nape of her neck.
“Why do you always have to be so
stubborn?” he responded.
She scrunched her brow at his words,
refusing to be badgered by a figment of her imagination. Considering the state
of things, her choices were either unconsciousness, insanity, or worse yet,
admitting that she was well and truly screwed.
She opted for unconsciousness.
It must be the only thing that
explained the presence of Daimone’s voice in her head. For as long as she could
remember, she’d dreamed of him. He’d appeared in her dreams even as a child. In
the beginning, he was a child just as she’d been. But as the years passed, he’d
aged along with her.
Sometimes, months would pass between
his visits, but even when she dreamed of other people and things, she’d felt
him watching her in the corner of her mind. He’d been her secret companion, her
solace for years.
Her cheeks heated as she thought of
how he’d also become other things to her. It began the night she’d returned
from her family’s summer vacation at the beach. She’d only been fifteen at the
time and missed frolicking in the sun with friends. That night, she’d dreamed
of lying on the beach soaking in the sun.
Daimone had appeared and sat down
next to her, nudging her playfully in the ribs. She’d opened her eyes, and for
the first time, noticed the breadth of his shoulders, his strong jaw, and
twinkling blue eyes.
A flash of heat had raced across her
flesh as sunlight had kissed his golden skin. For the first time, she felt the
urge to kiss a boy. Her body had yearned to touch and be touched.
Her lips quirked as she thought back
on that dream. She’d acted on impulse then. She’d reached up and pulled him
down to her, pursing her lips onto his. He’d yanked away looking surprised, but
she still remembered the way she’d tingled at the touch of his lips on hers.
She rarely saw him in her dreams for
several years after that. He would appear as a passerby or random face in a
crowd, but never played a starring role. Not until her parents died several
years after she completed college did he become a reoccurring feature in her
dreams again.
“As much as I love this little
jaunt down memory lane, it’s time to make a decision.”
His voice had lost its calm tone and
held a definite edge of irritation.
“I’ll make this easier for you.
You’re not unconscious, you’re not crazy. So that leaves only one option.”
“Don’t say it,” she said.
“You’re fucked, love, and not in
a good way.”
She groaned.
Of course she was.
BUY LINKS:
Barnes
& Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/wynters-fall-laurel-cremant/1117786927?ean=2940148910886
ABOUT LAUREL CREMANT
Laurel is a romance
author, who like most writers loves to read. Her first love (pun intended) has
always been romance. From the sappy YA romance novel to the more risqué erotica
novels, Laurel is a sucker for a good love story.
Laurel writes paranormal
and contemporary romance and is a self-proclaimed, out of the closet nerd. She
admits that she can't seem to avoid adding a bit of "nerdology" or
"geek-dom" to all of her books. Living in Miami, she also admits that
she can't seem to avoid giving her heroines gorgeous shoes, "In Miami,
we worship everything strappy, open toed and just plain hot!"
AUTHOR WEBSITE &
LINKS
Website: www.LaurelCremant.com
