Angela Knight, Nalini Singh, Virginia Kantra, Meljean Brook
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Bring these four authors together and it's sure to ignite a spark...
Angela Knight pairs a vampire warrior and his seductive captor in a battle against demonic predators.
Nalini Singh returns to the world of her Psy-Changeling series as a woman in lethal danger finds an unlikely protector—and lover.
Virginia Kantra continues the haunting tales of the Children of the Sea in her story of a wounded soldier rescued by an enigmatic young woman.
Meljean Brook launches a bold new steampunk series about a woman who strikes a provocative—and terrifying—bargain for freedom.
to violence, but she knew without a doubt that this man was a changeling, that he could turn into a leopard with a single thought—and that the leopard had no problem with the most brutal kind of justice. When she looked into his eyes, she saw rage . . . and the flickers of something that wasn’t quite human. “He can’t hurt me.” Somehow, she found herself trying to comfort him. “But he did.” An implacable statement. “And I’m going to sniff out the nest this little viper came from no matter what.”
thought.” Emmett told the others what the assassin had revealed. “Vincent stays out of sight by living in a mobile home—it’s a hover-truck, black, with constantly changing license plates. But it’s shiny, all tricked out. The bastard likes living in style.” “That’ll make it easier to spot him,” Lucas said. “We’ll start circulating the description. Someone will talk.” “He also said Vincent has a stockpile of weapons, so we need to be ready for what he might do when cornered.” The bastard
constructed, ignoring her efforts to turn it in a new direction. Amaris gritted her teeth and kept trying. She was damned if they’d fall to the Varil after suffering so much, fighting so hard. But even as she strained to turn the magic, she knew she simply didn’t have enough power. Until strong fingers wrapped around her shoulders, and a new stream of magic joined that rolling down her arms. Raniero’s. The vampire joined his will to hers, reinforcing her magic, working to warp the spell into
bring him in. They curled around him like cats, bumping him with their whiskered heads, prodding him with their flippers, rolling him on to his back like an otter. They turned his white face to the clearing sky and bore him up, making a raft of their broad, sleek bodies to carry him toward shore. She smoothed the waves in their path to a grumble, a ripple, a flourish of foam. Her power was running out like water from a cup, leaving her emptied, her throat raw, her legs as heavy as wet sand. She
he’d let Mad Machen live afterward. “You’ve heard the wrong story, then. He didn’t hang me on the ship. He hung me over the side, low enough that my feet dragged through the water.” Ivy gaped. She’d have thought he was joking, just as he had about the crew drawing straws, but the evidence circled his neck. “Like bait?” When he nodded, she gasped, “Why?” His grin faded, and he studied her face. Moving closer, he turned with his back to the sea and his elbows on the rail, watching the men. His