Welcome to the Sizzling Summer Blog Hop! Starting June 1st and running all the way to the 30th (yeah, I know, I’m a little late), theromancereview.com has signed on more than 400 authors, rounded up more than 400 prizes (plus those given out by the authors themselves!) and tons of fun games that get you entered in to win, win, WIN! Simply click on the button above or on the side bar to start hopping. Visit your favorite authors, find a few new ones, and enjoy the free and sexy sizzle of hundreds of spicy hot romances.
Falling into the full spirit of the thing, and being a soul who is not beyond a little shameless self-promotion, I am offering my own contest with the grand prize being a chance to win a free ebook copy of my newest release, Incubus Moon. What do you have to do to win? Each week I will post a sizzling excerpt from one of my books. All you have to do is comment and your name will be automatically entered into the drawing. Then check back on the 30th to see if you’ve won!
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Today’s sizzling excerpt is from Golden Song, my paranormal dragon shape-shifters romance, available now on Amazon!
She was dreaming; she had to be. And if she was, then thank God, because that meant she’d finally fallen asleep.
Standing on the roof of her building, her toes aligned with the very edge of the raised brick ledge, Polly held out her hands, not at her sides as if for balance but straight out in front of her. It was late. Wind and drizzling rain kissed her skin, and even in sleep, her eyes were burning, a testament to how truly tired she was.
Spread out around and below her, the city was anything but silent. Like the gold tucked up under her mattress, it sang at her, but with a cacophony of honking cars, TVs and radios, arguing and fighting…and growling. He was out there. Somewhere. She breathed in, finding that familiar scent hanging so heavy in the damp air—the man with the amber eyes—haunting her dreams, making her body heat, her belly coil, and her pussy thrum and throb.
Jump, a soft voice whispered in her mind.
She looked down at the wet concrete below, compelled to obey and not at all sure why. A reflection of yellow street lights rippled on the wet pavement below. Drops of cool rain dampened her nightshirt and panties, beading everywhere it found her bare skin, and a wealth of golden song, hidden in the pockets of a stranger, beckoned.
A baby bird on the verge of her first flight, Polly spread her arms wider and, as if on cue, the wind picked up. It shoved at her, pulling on the damp hem of her t-shirt and tugging at her hair. She shivered, unafraid, Need warring with excitement and music itching under her skin. Her bare legs tipped her forward.
Jump, the voice commanded, and spreading her arms to catch the air, Polly did.
She fell like a rock.
For four very short stories, she felt the fluttering of her damp nightshirt rippling around her, and something else—some deep and dark thing inside her—writhing to break out as the pavement came rushing up to meet her.
She was just wondering if the pain of impact would wake her when her back was hit. Bands of soft steel latched onto her arms, hips and legs and a hard yank at the very last second, followed by the sound of loud flapping, like laundry snapping in the wind, sent the tips of her hair smacking against the ground. Her fall reversed. She rose again. Not straight down the way she had fallen, but sideways, rising fast as she travelled the length of the dark street, soaring up and over the top of the corner streetlamp so close that, could she have worked one hand free of the talons that clutched her, she could have touched the smooth metal dome.
Polly looked down at herself and at the three-toed claws—four giant scaly feet, all hugging her securely close. She looked over at the shadowy wings, beating so effortlessly to either side of her, lifting her into the hazy yellow-black of the sky, high above the buildings and weaving her over rapidly diminishing streets and apartment complexes, around tall corporate skyscrapers, up and up into the chill of the night sky.
Stinging rain flew in from under those wings to pelt her bare skin. They soaked her clothes, plastering thin cotton into a second skin, and she shivered. Twisting back her head, she looked up through the blonde curtain of her own flying hair at the black scaly chest, the long slender neck, the massive horn-ridged head of the dragon who had caught her.
Twisting, he looked down at her. The fiery yellow of his eyes burned into her. He rumbled, a soothing vibration that rolled out of his chest and into hers. His claws tightened, as if expecting her to struggle, but Polly was dreaming and she was not afraid. She turned her hands, clasping his talons in turn and marveling at the smoothness of the scales she felt. The heat of him was like a furnace all around her, off-setting the cold of the rain as he turned, banking sharply right, aiming for a tower of luxury apartments on the wealthier northern side of town.
Circling the tallest structure, he veered onto a penthouse terrace overlooking both a garden and a pool. His wings beat harder as he slowed, coming in as close to the patio doors as a beast his massive size could get. His grip on her slender body relaxed. He let her go in slow stages, one claw at a time, until her feet hung free. She was dangling bare inches above the patio bricks when he finally let her drop. She landed, stumbling slightly before catching her balance, and watched with a curious absence of fear as the dragon shimmered, melting down into the lean and muscular form of that dark-haired man from the subway.
He dropped lightly down a short distance away, utterly naked, thoroughly aroused and already moving toward her, his eyes burning in the night, his smile dark and feral and every bit as predatory as the Need within her now felt.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said, and reached for her.
Polly trembled at the touch of his fingers sliding up her arms, but it was not from fear. With every breath, she could smell him. She could feel him, the heat of his body doing battle with the cold of the drizzling rain. Her own was all too eagerly responding to him, her nipples tightening into peaks that the wetness of her nightshirt clearly exposed.
“I’m dreaming,” was all she could think to say.
“Are you?” His smile broadened, darkened. “Give yourself to me, then. We’ll make it a dream worth remembering.”
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Don’t forget to comment to be entered to win a copy of Incubus Moon, a Sizzling Summer excerpt of which will be posted next Monday!