Christmas isn’t the only holiday in December. Another is Yule, and this Yule brings a magic all of its own. The third book in the Inherited Damnation series releases on the 21st. Belen and Faith have a holiday nightmare on their hands.

So with much ado, I’m bringing you a sneak peak of what they’re facing. WARNING: It is a little adult near the end.

He really liked holding her hand. The warmth of her skin filled him with the false promise that if he held on long enough he could absorb the decency she possessed.

Faith followed as he led her to the car, silent and introspective. He knew he should say something—she’d gone out of her way to entertain him tonight. But words failed each time he tried. He couldn’t get past the one thing that was firmly lodged in his throat: Kiss me, Faith.

They drove in the same quiet. Belen remained wrapped up in the conflict brewing inside him and searching for a way to bring a firm, final end to this nonsense. He answered when she spoke, but tension crackled between them with each passing block. He couldn’t say whether it was awkwardness, or just the climax of their shared attraction. Whatever caused it though, the electrified air drove him to near madness. If he could have stopped the car and run ten blocks to work the kinks out of his system, he would have.

His house was dark, save for the solitary light glowing over the threshold. At ten minutes to eleven, the oddity announced his siblings had gone out for the night. In the three months Dáire had been living with him, Belen couldn’t recall wanting his brother around. Tonight, he’d have surrendered his elemental powers to have Dáire sitting on the couch.

Even Isolde, for that matter.

Faith opened the door first, climbing out and taking a piece of Belen with her as their hands inevitably severed. He curled his fingers into his palm, closing his eyes against the sudden lance of anguish. With a deep breath, he steeled himself against what he must do, and exited the car. “Faith, I enjoyed tonight, but—”

Her lips touched his, and Belen’s heart came to a screeching stop. He remained motionless, frozen from head to toe, as her mouth feathered across his, seeking, beseeching him to acknowledge the desire that arced between them.

The tip of her tongue teased one corner of his mouth, slid along the inside of his lower lip. A low, feral groan rumbled in his throat as his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her flush against his body. He angled his head and captured her lower lip, pulling it into his mouth, nipping it with his teeth.

Faith’s hands fastened in his long hair, her nails curled against his scalp. She kissed him with unabashed abandon, forcing him to acknowledge all the yearning he’d bottled up inside. His fingers curled into her narrow waist, and he deepened the kiss, tangling his tongue with hers like he had spent a lifetime waiting for this moment.

Maybe he had. It sure as hell felt like it. The velvety slide of her tongue was sweeter than honey. More painful than the sword that had plunged into his side when he’d taken up arms against the Romans the day the Selgovae were invaded.

And more saving than if the Ancestors had promised him a life without the darkness.

He slid one palm up her back, pressing her closer. Her breasts pillowed against his chest, her hips ground flush with his. Through the thin material of their formal clothes, he could feel the heat of her feminine center, and that warmth against his aching cock pulled another throaty groan from the depths of his soul. How he had craved her, yearned for this…

Belen’s fingers tangled in the nape of her hair, tugging the loose mass free. Long silken strands cascaded over the back of his hand, down her back, and brushed against the hand he kept fastened at her waist. He breathed through his nose, savoring the scent of almonds, the rich flavor of her mouth, the perfect way Faith’s body molded into his. She was so willing, so eager, and tonight he would…

He pulled back with a soft, protesting grunt.

Tonight he would not.

Their breaths clouded around them in the frosty night, rasping in broken harmony. He sucked in air, held it to stop the racket clamoring through his body. Then, exhaling slowly, he touched his forehead to hers. She held his gaze, turquoise eyes dark with arousal.

“You need to go home, Faith,” Belen whispered huskily.


Check back Monday for a chance to win Destined to Die!


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2 Responses so far.

  1. Ooh, shiver. Sounds good!!

  2. Thank you, Linda! Belen's was a lot of fun to write. He's ... captivating :)

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(History Channel International)



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