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Deemed “trailer trash” by humans and the daughter of the most disgraceful family of witches and warlocks since the Puritan age, Samantha is used to fighting her own battles. When her younger sister is taken to the Underworld, Sam doesn’t hesitate to rescue her.
To survive the harsh land, she makes a deal with a demon — the most dangerous of creatures in the realm.
Even with those lustrous horns, Geo is as hot as the hell she’s stuck in. Fighting nasty beasts in a supernatural version of the gladiator games is easy compared to falling in love with a man who has no future to offer.
An Excerpt from Destiny Bewitched
Finally, the piece she’d been fiddling with on the tape player clicked into place. She pressed play and turned up the volume. When music flowed from the small but effective speakers, she gave Geo an I-told-you-so look.
His wide eyes told her he’d probably never heard music come from a machine before. She recognized the song. I Put a Spell on You by Creedence Clearwater Revival. Somebody in the Underworld liked 70’s rock. Go figure.
“I love this song.” She placed the tape player on the bed and stood up, feeling a little reckless, a little free. Must be the wine.
The lead singer’s throaty voice and the heavy beat fit the dim room. The song was gritty and raw just like the Underworld. She looked at Geo, laid back in the chair all big and bad, strong and silent. He’d never looked so sexy.
Definitely the wine.
“Dance with me,” she commanded.
His brows lifted.
“Come on.” She grabbed his hand and tugged.
With a smirk, he let her pull him to his feet.
“Just put your hands here and here.” She guided his hands to her hip and shoulder but he yanked out of her grip.
“I know how to dance, woman,” he growled. Then he plopped both hands on her low back, just above her backside, and yanked her up against his body.
About the Author
I began my writing journey while I was stranded at the airport waiting for my delayed flight. I browsed the Border’s kiosk and grew frustrated that I couldn’t find the “it factor” — the perfect combination of alpha male-ness, ass-kickery, strong females, magic, and sex.
So I spent the next four hours on an airplane writing my first book on scraps of paper and an airsick bag (which thankfully I didn’t need to use).
Now I spend too much time in my head, plotting evil villains and the hot men (and women) who ruthlessly kill them. I think far too much about fae politics, dragon power games, and how fast werewolves can change forms. But writing my paranormal romance series has given me a productive place to express those dark places in my mind.
I live in New England with my husband and two kids. Though I will go to my grave denying it, my husband insists I would be thrilled if he suddenly sprouted fangs.