Thanks so much, Eve, for inviting me to blog the next few days. In keeping with the "theme", LOL, I am posting some of the hotter scenes from some of my releases with Red Rose Publishing and Linden Bay Romance|Samhain (I'm one of the new hybrids).
Regards and best wishes,
Here's a scene from Of Dragons:
"I cannot...not have you—" she gasped. Sweat drenched her as she fought the impulse, a fever building as she sought to stay him with force of will—building a wall between them, that he couldn't penetrate...
...until the force of his grasp, his thrust forward slid, caught, glided, snagged, held, then jutted up inside her, as his hands tightened, digging in frenzied passion as he jiggled up tighter and higher, deeply, darkly, in mad, eclipsing jettisoning, jutting rut. She was trapped, impaled on his thickness, engorged to meet him, no part of her allowing him to slip away. He drove up and she down, but in truth there was not so much movement outward as inward, where their insides strained to grunt and traverse any remaining space between them, filling all gaps, so they were one, connecting and connected. Glynt exploded on a tickle that was Ryon jettisoning, exploding, filling her insides with white hot light, so she glowed, in straining, sweating silence, as her insides gave in spasms of rhythmic passion, claiming him again and again over the hours. She had no choice—no more than he. She claimed him, demanded his seed again and again and again, and he could neither break free nor could she break loose.
And sometime during the impassioned hours, she remembered whispering, "I'm sorry," and "I tried," but it no longer mattered, because he wanted her, too—more than wanted her. Needed her, to be part of her. He merely brushed a kiss across her head in response, because he no longer cared about the hows or the whys. They lay entwined on the blanket, and he wanted only to come in her again and again. They consumed each other in near silence, but some part of Ryon wanted to howl in ecstasy. There was no regret. There was only...Glynt.
It hurt, in all ways, when he had to leave her. At the last, dehydration did what passion would not allow. The connection loosened, and on a last surge of energetic fulfillment, he was free, sliding easily from her passage on the wetness of their lovemaking. He watched, as the glow in her belly and loins faded.
His chameleon girl was chameleon once more.
He kissed her again, and exhausted as she, spooned her, cuddling her against him. She was his first, last, always. As it should be. Pride of place kept him close.
But he was too human not to worry. His throat was dry, but he knew it was more than thirst. "Will there—will there be a child?"
She lifted eyes which where lighter now that the passion was lifting. She wasn't happy about the last. He could read it in her face. "How could there not be?" she asked, almost bitterly. To bring a child into her world, where only evil and death awaited?
It didn't stop her though, then or later. This wasn't heat, but it was heated. She didn't want a child, but she wanted him. A short while later, Glint spread her legs, pulled him into her...and claimed him once again.