Locked in Silence: Grimm's Circle, Book 5 (22 page)

Tired and frazzled and frustrated.

He felt like a major prick because he wanted to offer to hold her for the entire week.

Her husband’s dying, man. Remember him? Guy used to be your best friend? Still is your friend
?

“How are you?” he asked.

“I’m fine.” She gave him a practiced, completely false smile.

“Bullshit.” He dropped the bag on the table centered under a mirror and folded his arms over his chest, studying her face. “Don’t hand me the line you hand people in your store, people at church, whoever. I know you too well. How are you, really?”

She lifted a golden brow at him. “Chase, you don’t really know me that well. Not anymore.”

“Don’t I?” He reached out and tucked her hair behind one ear. “When was the last time you watched
Old Yeller
?”

She scowled at him.

“Still reading the
Valdemar
books? How many copies you gone through now?”

She tucked her hands into her pockets and rocked back on her heels. “Things like that aren’t exactly
knowing
me.”

“Hmm. How about this? You’re pissed off. You’ve been riding on nerves and caffeine for a while, but today, you’re pissed off and you just want to hit something.”

Something flashed in her eyes, but she remained silent.

“What set you off?”

“Nothing.” Her voice was low and flat.

“Nothing? You sure about that, princess?”

There it was again…a flash of fire, hot and angry.

“Come on, surely there’s something. Your panties are in a twist over something.” He slanted a look toward the bedroom she shared with Roger. Jealousy twisted his gut, but he kept his voice easy and light as he said, “It’s got to be rough, where you’re at right now. No way to burn off that anger, that stress, that…”

He saw it coming, but he didn’t bother to move.

His head snapped back from the force of her blow and even as the pain bloomed, he grinned at her. She stared at him, shock written all over her face. “Feel better?”

Zoe gaped at him. “You…what…”

Edging past her, he went to the mirror and peered at his mouth. He tasted blood. “Damn, you’ve got a good right hook there, Zoe.”

The gods play…and mortals pay.

Bad Blood

© 2011 Lucienne Diver

Latter-Day Olympians, Book 1

Tori Karacis’s family line may trace back to a drunken liaison between the god Pan and one of the immortal gorgons. Or…maybe it’s just coincidence that her glance can, literally, stop men in their tracks. While her fear of heights kept her out of the family aerobatic troupe, her extreme nosiness fits right in with her uncle’s P.I. business.

Except he’s disappeared on an Odyssean journey to find himself. Muddling through on her own, she’s reduced to hunting (not stalking, because that would just be weird) brass-bra’d Hollywood agent Circe Holland to deliver a message…only to witness her murder by what looks like the Creature from the Black Lagoon.

Suddenly, all of her family’s tall tales seem believable, especially when Apollo—
the
Apollo, who’s now hiding out among humans as an adult film star—appears in her office, looking to hire her. She knows the drill: canoodling with gods never works out well for humans, but she’s irresistibly drawn to him. Maybe it’s her genes. Maybe not.

Given her conflicted feelings for one hot and hardened cop, it’s a toss-up which will kill her quickest. The danger at her door…or her love life.

Warning:
Contains pot-boiling passion between a heroine who may—or may not—be a descendent of Medusa, and a hot god and a hunky copy with the…equipment…to handle her, even on her worst bad-hair day. Beware of killer kisses, trickster gods and bearded grandmothers Who Know Everything.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Bad Blood:

“I need a bath,” I croaked, hand to my throat as if it would make any difference. “Right now I feel like I’d pass out bending over to start the water. I’d never have called you to begin with if—” my voice gave out, which was probably a good thing, given that what had been coming out sounded all wrong in my head. I swallowed and tried again, softer. “Not that you were my last choice. Just—I need a girlfriend.”

Armani looked at me like a suspect he intended to crack, as if every word spoken had some other meaning. Finally, he swiped a hand hard over his face.

“Look, you witnessed a murder, came face-to-face with the killer. We probably should have set some sort of watch on you right from the first. My fault. But—dammit, by the time you’re through flirting and baiting, it’s a wonder I remember my own damned name,” he growled.

I was flummoxed. “So I
do
get to you.”

He practically glared. “Yeah, like that’s a freakin’ newsflash. Why else do you do it?”

“Because I can’t help myself,” I answered.

Damn and double damn. I should have stuck with the pen.

My admission didn’t seem to make him any happier. “Look, you’re a witness in an ongoing investigation.”

“Yeah.”

“And a pain in my ass.”

I was tired, I was soaked to the bone, but as much as I wanted that bath and my bed…

“So?” I challenged.

“
So
, we can’t do this.”

“
Do what?
” I asked, exasperated. “We’re not doing anything—”

In the blink of an eye, Armani had risen from his chair, taken my face in his hands and shut me the hell up with a kiss. And not just any tentative little first kiss—a breath-stealing, heart-pounding, fade-to-black kind of showstopper. I found I wasn’t nearly as exhausted as I’d thought. With minds of their own, my fingers buried themselves in his hair, reveling in the feel of the thick strands, kneading his scalp. My thoughts scattered as his tongue thrust inside my mouth and I gasped in reaction.

His hands slid from my face, down over my wet camisole, just brushing my breasts before settling on my hips. I was no longer cold—superheated was more like it—but wet was another matter.

Armani pushed himself away. Without looking at me, he muttered, “I’ll start the water running and wait just outside the door so I can hear you if you fall.” And he escaped into the only other room in my apartment, the bathroom.

My head fell to the table in frustration and sudden weakness. In the time it took him to get things ready, a series of unworthy thoughts flitted through my mind—pulling him in with me, faking a fall, flat-out asking him to wash my back. But I wasn’t going to trick Armani into anything. He either wanted me or he didn’t.

Still, I couldn’t help a bit of teasing, allowing a breast to brush his arm as he escorted me to the bath.

“I may need help with these wet clothes,” I said, damaged throat making it come out all husky.

He shot me a sidelong look. “At this point, I don’t think the bath would do those clothes any harm.”

“
Such
a gentleman,” I answered with a roll of my eyes.

“I am a gentleman. That’s why you’re on your own with those clothes.” Then he decided to turn my teasing back on me. “Besides, if I were to take them off, I’d need to taste you right—” the hand not supporting me rose to ever-so-gently slide over my throat until his thumb caressed the hollow, “—here.”
 

My nipples practically stood at attention, pushing noticeably against my camisole. The look he gave me was hot enough to scorch and smug besides.

I had no comeback.

“Speechless? Hmm, I’ll have to remember that.”

Locked in Silence

Shiloh Walker

Dying is hard enough. Coming back to life is brutal.

Grimm’s Circle, Book 5

Vanya has been hunting and killing demons ever since one of them scarred her face and killed her sister. Correction—since she was forced to kill the demon
possessing
her sister.

Then some sort of angel offers her a deal she can’t refuse—that if she becomes one of them, she gets to kill even more demons. Tonight, she’s made that choice. The death she smells on the air will be her own—and she welcomes it.

Silence feels a darkness is looming. Change—something he has every reason not to welcome. The deeply hidden memories that robbed him of his past, of his own name, render him unfit to teach anyone the ways of the Grimm. Yet here he is in the dankest sex club in town, waiting to assume his charge—after he stands by and watches her die.

When Vanya awakes, their complicated, dangerous dance begins. And so does something else—a searing need that blisters along their unexpected mental connection. Silence shouldn’t be drawn to his student, but once they touch, he can’t think of a reason to stop. Even though acting out their darkest desires puts them in more danger than they realize.

Warning:
 
This book contains sex-starved demons, lonely angels, demon-angel sandwiches, blood, violence, death and a happy-ever-after.

eBooks are
not
transferable.

They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B

Cincinnati OH 45249

Locked in Silence

Copyright © 2011 by Shiloh Walker

ISBN: 978-1-60928-528-9

Edited by Tera Kleinfelter

Cover by Scott Carpenter

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
electronic publication: September 2011

www.samhainpublishing.com