Demons are a Ghoul's Best Friend: Afterglow, Book 2 (23 page)

The music was good, the micro-brewed house beer excellent and for the moment all the baddies Karl knew had been vanquished. Couldn’t ask for more than that.

Fate, always on the alert for thoughts of that nature, snickered.

Karl didn’t know that, of course. He merely sat comfortably on his barstool as a stranger walked through the door…

About the Author

Sometimes dreams do come true. Wynne Hayworth’s dream has always been to write good books that people will enjoy. Stories that make them smile, even if there’s blood spatter tossed into a few of ’em. Humor is, to Wynne, a vital part of life. Without a laugh or two now and again, things can get horribly depressing, thus there’s always going to be a strong dash of fun in everything Wynne writes. That’s her promise to herself—and her readers.

To learn more about Wynne, please visit
www.wynnehayworth.com
. She loves to hear from readers and you can drop her a note at
[email protected]
.

Look for these titles by Wynne Hayworth

Now Available:

Afterglow

Demons are Forever

Evolution got an astronomical kick in the pants. Now it’s kicking back…

Demons are Forever

© 2009 Wynne Hayworth

Afterglow.
Our world is changed. Mutated. Now home to humans who possess DNA belonging to creatures once thought to be only the stuff of legends. So what if the neighbor howls at the moon every month? No big deal as long as he mows his lawn.

A savage killer munching on helpless victims, however, is a big deal to Detective Buck Shand.

Buck is thinking less legend and more nightmare as he surveys the most recent in a series of brutal slayings. It’s beyond even his special talents, and he’s going to need help with this one. It arrives in the shapely form of Dr. Lian Herrick, a woman with her own form of Afterglow mutation—a demon that will shake Buck’s everyday world to its foundations and turn his brain inside out.

Will their combined skills be enough to track and stop a savage killer? Possibly. If they can keep their minds on business and their hands off each other long enough to lure a beast who feeds on sex—then kills for pleasure.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Demons are Forever:

He was gentle, warm, touching her mouth at first then licking at the seam and urging her lips apart. His tongue slipped inside as she welcomed his intrusion, sucking on it, teasing it with her own then sliding past it to learn his contours, the hardness of his teeth, the softness of the skin around them.

Warmth blossomed between them, the warmth of lovers sated and the promise of passion to follow. Buck held her face cupped in one hand, not doing anything more than kissing her.

She lost herself in that moment, overwhelmed by the tenderness, the delightful knowledge that this might well be the first real kiss she’d ever experienced. The dark confines of the truck disappeared, leaving only Buck and his mouth. Her body still thrummed with the remembered pleasure of an orgasm that had shaken her world. But her mind and her heart relished the simple joy of a man’s mouth on hers, a man’s hand cradling her cheek and a man’s warmth enveloping her.

Finally they parted on a sigh.

“Mmm. Nice.” He whispered the words as he stroked her cheek then let her go. “I can’t let this stop here, Lian. I won’t.”

She gazed at him. “I don’t want it to either. But it’s complicated, Buck.”

“I know.” He seemed to pull himself together, shaking off the sensual tenderness and becoming once again the cop on the case. “First things first.” Reaching for the keys, he withdrew them from the ignition and nodded at her door. “If you’re ready, let’s go inside and deal with the case. For now we work. Later, we…” His lips turned up wickedly at the corners. “Later, we’ll play with that demon of yours.”

Unused to such blunt honesty, Lian could only follow his orders. “Okay.”

They walked quietly across the empty garage to the elevators. She couldn’t think of anything to say that hadn’t already been said and sensed Buck’s thoughts turning back to the murders. She simply took comfort from his presence at her side.

It wasn’t until they reached the squad room and found the captain frowning over the latest crime scene photos that he finally spoke.

“Cap, Herrick here thinks she may have picked up on something.”

“What?” The captain’s head snapped up.

Lian lifted her chin. “We both sensed much the same sort of thing that Detective Shand felt at the earlier scene. The lust, the hunger to feed, the overwhelming sexual urges.”

“So?”

She didn’t mistake the captain’s curtness for anything other than what it was, a man desperate to do his job and stop such senseless butchery. “I have some limited cognitive abilities of my own. What I felt was a creature driven by lust. The killing? That may not have come from him.”

The captain frowned and motioned to chairs. “Sit. Explain.”

Lian wearily took a seat and ran a hand through her hair. “I’m not sure how to describe it. You’ve seen the photos. It was bad, as bad as it gets, I reckon.”

Buck nodded. “I’ve never seen worse, Cap.”

“You don’t have to tell me. In all my years, I’ve never seen worse either. Go on.”

She marshaled her thoughts. Neither man would appreciate a lengthy exposition. “It’s my opinion that this creature, whatever he—it—is, wants the sex. The urge to kill is coming from elsewhere, a direction to its mind, perhaps. An exploitation of its instincts. I don’t know. There’s a conflict I sensed, a confusion when the killing begins. Almost as if it’s being told what to do from that point on.”

The captain frowned. “How the hell is that possible?”

Buck shrugged. “Who knows? At this point, after seeing that slaughter, I’m ready to believe anything. To take a stab at any crazy notion if it gets us close to stopping these killings.”

“So we’ve got a creature that seems invisible and leaves no DNA or forensic evidence after having savage sex and then ripping girls to pieces. And now you’re telling me that the sex is one thing and the killing’s another?”

“Yes.” Lian stared at him. “As insane as it sounds, yes. I think this
whatever it is
is being controlled. Being
forced
to kill. The sexual urge is incredibly strong, and there’s violence mixed in to it, no question. But I doubt it would go as far as it has without a nudge from something or someone else.”

“Jesus H.” The captain stared at the photos again. “How the hell do we deal with this?”

Buck leaned forward. “We can’t do any more than we’re doing right now. We have to follow our procedures. The techs are still working this scene—perhaps they’ll find something, some minute particle that’ll put us ahead of where we are right now. Fisher’s talking to people. If anyone can get info out of the Bogs crew, he can. Maybe a girl saw something she didn’t think mattered. Sooner or later, Cap, this thing’s gonna make a mistake. When it does, we’ll be there.”

Something dead this way comes…

That Voodoo You Do

© 2010 Jodi Redford

That Old Black Magic, Book 1

For ten long years Griffin Trudeau has managed to keep his paws off Jemma Finnegan, best friend and leading star of his kinkiest fantasies. As her appointed cat familiar, indulging those fantasies with the delectable witch is strictly forbidden. But when Jemma shows up at his door with seduction in mind, control goes right out the window.

Too late he realizes making love to Jemma is the trigger that launches a zombie apocalypse.

Jemma’s been dealt a double whammy: she’s just discovered she’s a witch. And Griff has been hiding whiskers and a tail. Oh, and if her life wasn’t crazy enough, a dead voodoo queen needs her blood to raise a legion of zombies.

There’s one plan that might work to increase Jemma’s powers so she can put an end to the looming holocaust. A sexy threesome with Griff and Logan Scott, a werewolf familiar with a history of rubbing Griff’s fur the wrong way. A cat and a wolf playing nice, much less sharing? It’ll take a miracle.

Warning: A witch, tiger and wolf doing naughty things. A dead voodoo queen doing evil things. And zombies doing zombie things. Get your shovels ready.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
That Voodoo You Do:

“So what’s going on in there?”

Logan propped his elbow against the frame, giving her a close-up view of his barbed-wire tat. Now that she thought about it, the symbolism seemed appropriate. Tangling with the lusty werewolf was bound to leave a few scratches. “Just Clarissa taking care of some coven business. Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head over, darlin’.”

She narrowed her eyes. “That managed to be both evasive
and
sexist.”

“Damn, and here I wasn’t even tryin’.” He chuckled. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, she reached around him for the doorknob. He scooted sideways, forcing her hand to smack into his abdomen instead. His bare, firm-as-marble abdomen. Her fingertips brushed the warm hollow of skin resting just above the low rise of his button fly. Sucking in a sharp breath, she yanked her arm away and shuffled back several steps.

Logan’s irises shimmered with amusement and heat. “Don’t stop now. Things were just getting interesting.”

“I, uh, just have to go and…um…yeah.” She spun and stumbled in the direction of the kitchen before she did something really stupid, like follow the silky trail of hair disappearing beneath the waistband of Logan’s jeans. With her tongue. That thought sent her tripping through the entry of the kitchen. She jerked to a halt when she spotted Griff in front of the stove, stirring the contents of a large stockpot. He was notably shirtless too, which put the mouthwatering expanse of his back on dazzling display. She stared at the muscles shifting beneath all that golden, velvety skin, her suspicions bubbling. It was too damn weird and convenient that both Logan and Griff were standing around half naked all of a sudden. Unless some devious shirt monster was making its rounds in the neighborhood, there was definitely something afoot.

And where was everyone else, anyway? She craned her neck, scoping the dining alcove for signs of Ms. Peach or Gloria.

“Hey, baby. You’re just in time for a taste test.”

She whipped her head around at Griff’s zippy tone. Now she
knew
something was up. Griff didn’t do chipper, particularly not thirty minutes after snarling at her like a pissed-off Tony the Tiger. “What the hell is going on?”

Griff tried for a guileless look. Oh yeah, he didn’t do innocent well either. “I’m getting lunch ready.”

“Without your shirt on?”

“It’s hot in here.”

Well…that was certainly true. Even without Griff’s muscle-icious torso making her girl parts all warm and tingly, there was no denying the temperature in the kitchen hovered between muggy and melt-your-panties-off miserable.

Griff dug a spoon out of the drawer and ladled some of the sauce he’d been stirring. “Tell me if this needs anything.”

Her intuition warning her to be on the lookout for any sneakiness, she hesitantly crossed to the industrial-sized, stainless-steel stove. She tried to wrestle the spoon from Griff, but he insisted on feeding her the concoction himself. Almost from the instant the tapestry of flavors met her tongue, a seductive ripple of heat unfurled inside her, tightening her nipples beneath the sundress’s snug, smocked bodice. Griff’s thumb traced the outline of her lower lip. Holding her gaze, he lifted his finger and slowly licked it clean. If the humidity didn’t melt the crotch of her panties, Griff demonstrating his perfect oral skills sure as hell would.

“What do you think? A pinch more salt and pepper?”

She stared into Griff’s dark-as-sin pupils. Clearly he was waiting for her to answer, but damn if she could concentrate on anything beyond the flush of arousal making her dizzy with hunger. Only it wasn’t food she was lusting for at the moment. Knees wobbling, she clutched the counter. “W—what’s in that sauce?”

“Butter, egg, milk. The usual Béchamel ingredients.”

Sure, and a liberal dash of horny goat weed and Viagra thrown in for good measure. She had no idea why Griff was trying to get her juiced up for sex. He knew damn well that all he had to do was breathe and she’d gladly tackle him to the floor and ride him until they were both properly yippee-ki-yayed out. Which left only one possibility.

He was about to spring some hellaciously scary sexual request on her. If a midget and a monkey strolled in right now, she was so out of th—

“Looks like the party is revving into high gear.” Logan ambled into the kitchen, his expression wicked and wolfish.

Her focus shifted between the two gorgeous specimens of male flesh on decadent display, and the puzzle pieces began locking together.
Oh, sweet Jesus
. Her heart frantically tap dancing, she snatched the embroidered dishtowel resting on the counter and blotted her perspiring forehead. Either the heat and the sauce were getting to her, or Griff and Logan. More than likely, all four.

She shot Griff an accusing glare. “Now I get it. You think the three of us having sex will fix everything, and I won’t have to worry about Nettie luring me to the dark side. Did it even occur to you to give
me
a say in this decision?”

Griff thunked the spoon on the stovetop before giving her his full attention. “Christ, do you honestly think you wouldn’t get a say? Damn it, you know I’d never force you into doing anything you don’t want.”

She plunked one hand on her hip and waved the other hand at the stockpot. “But you weren’t averse to a little cheating, courtesy of your pasta à la sex sauce.”

“I just wanted you to feel more comfortable. Relaxed.”

“Turned on,” she added, arching a brow.

A guilty flush spread from Griff’s jaw to his cheeks. Chuffing a laugh, Logan joined them at the stove. “Catman had good intentions, sugar. The potion in the sauce is designed to loosen inhibitions and supersensitize erogenous zones you didn’t even know you had.” He flicked a glance in Griff’s direction. “Maybe you better give her a demonstration.”