Hotter on the Edge (43 page)

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Authors: Erin Kellison

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BOOK: Hotter on the Edge
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"Dark, gritty, and utterly entrancing, this book absolutely blew my socks off."

Jess "The Romanceaholic"

"…I didn't want to put it down. It had me on the edge of my seat and never shied away from the really hard stuff."

Jen "Red Hot Books"

"[DARK FUTURE] knocked my socks off! Do yourself a huge favor and GET THIS BOOK!! You won't be sorry you did."
– Kissablysweetone

Want to read more?
Buy Dark Future at Amazon
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About KC Klein

KC Klein has lived most of her life with her head in the clouds and her nose buried in a book. She did stop reading long enough to make a home with a real life hero, her husband, for over sixteen years. A mother of two children, she spends her time slaying dragons, saving princesses, and championing the belief in the happily-ever-after. She is the author of two novels, a sexy time-travel romance,
Dark Future
and a new contemporary western romance,
Texas Wide Open
, coming this fall. KC loves to hear from readers and can be found desperately pounding away on her laptop in yoga pants and leopard slippers or more conveniently at kckleinbooks.com. 

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www.KCKleinBooks.com

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KC Klein Books

Read more at
www.KCKleinBooks.com

KC Klein’s books are available at
Amazon

Read more from Jessa Slade

DARK HUNTER’S TOUCH

Book 1 of the Steel Born

Yearning to be free, Imogene has fled the idleness and cruelty of the phae court to hide in the sunlit realm of humans. When the Dark Hunters find her—and they will—she will face the Queen's wrath. But she is tired of running, and after a chance encounter with a seductively handsome stranger named Vaile, Imogene embraces the earthly passions within her, if only for one night. But has she fallen for a man—or an illusion?

 

Chapter 1

 

She wanted to feel it all. Her body burned. Sweat slicked down her skin, a sensuous tickle, and her chest heaved with each pounding stroke. When she gasped, the taste of salt prickled on her tongue.

Imogene needed her sunlit runs. With her body, mind, and senses so immersed in the moment, she might camouflage her presence from the Wild Hunt. The inexorable path of the sun, immune to any magics, helped keep her on her path, pretending to be a true inhabitant of this earthly realm—but for how long?

She wanted to run forever. That’s how long the Queen’s phaedrealii Hunters would search for her: forever. Creatures who stood with only one foot in the world’s time had that advantage. Though the phae could be blithe and capricious, once Hunters were loosed upon the object of their hunger, they would never falter. The black dogs and their dark masters were so dangerous that the Queen herself chained them when they prowled her inner court.

The sun fell into the streaked clouds over the Pacific Ocean like a fading ember. Its glow burned a red hole through the veil of the blue-gray sky, and the reflection in the water rippled with secrets. A chilly breeze breathed out from the pine forest rising from the rocky headlands beyond the dunes. Imogene slowed to a jog and flapped her oversized T-shirt to let the breeze tickle her belly.

A creep of awareness between her shoulder blades made her glance back.

Down the beach, a dark silhouette closed the distance, tall and menacing. Her heartbeat ramped up again and all her muscles tensed. For a confused moment, a swirl like black wings spread above the figure, and even the ceaseless churn of the ocean seemed to hush.

Then the sun flared out behind the clouds one last time, and Imogene recognized him: just a fellow jogger she had passed many times over the month since she had moved to the Oregon coast. He waved at her again—not wings, just a regular old human arm—and she chided herself for seeing monsters in every shadow.

Still wary, she let him catch up. All the other times, they had waved but never spoken.

“Hey, I think you dropped this.” Still a dozen strides away, he tossed something toward her.

Reflexively, she caught the chain that spiraled through the air. The metal tingled in her hand: steel. From a bezel at the bottom dangled an odd, blue stone, partly clouded but transparent in places with occlusions that caught and scattered the low slanting light. The pendant gleamed like a sky changing from the clear blue of day to the darker blue of evening, a sight she had longed for when she’d been trapped in the halls of the phaedrealii.

With regret, she shook her head. “Beautiful, but it’s not mine.” She held the necklace out to him, looking up.

And her breath, which she had finally caught, escaped her again.

They had always passed each other at a distance—part of her promise to herself to stay far away from humans on this trip through the sunlit realm. She had noticed only that he was dark haired; had a smooth, gliding stride that ate up the beach miles; and didn’t usually bother with shirts despite the chill.

Shirts were overrated anyway—especially if they committed the crime of covering such a perfectly sculpted chest. The hard planes of his pectorals blurred beneath just enough dark curls to declare the undeniable presence of testosterone, and the narrowing arrow of hair over his abdomen commanded her attention down toward testosterone central.

She jerked her gaze up before she could wonder if the ripstop nylon fly of his shorts was rippling from the breeze…or from something else.

Judging by the sly smile playing around his lips, she knew he hadn’t missed her once-over, but the confident tilt of his head said he thought he could take it. No doubt he got plenty of once-overs, not to mention twice- and third-overs. Even the haughty courtiers of the phaedrealii who objected most vociferously to the idea that there might be any shared blood between humans and phae would be willing to claim this one as kissing cousin.

The wicked edge of male beauty had carved jaw and cheekbones in bold relief from his deep-set dark eyes. Salt spray and sweat had frozen his dark hair in untamed tousles. Only the fullness of his lower lip seemed out of place, as if some all-powerful fairy godmother had decided this chiseled work of unassailable masculinity needed a touch of bruised tenderness and had taken a soft bite of his mouth before breathing him into life.

Imogene caressed the smooth, blue stone—still holding his body heat from his pocket—and imagined running her finger over that lip. Desire pooled low in her belly, warm and glowing as the stone. She curled her hand into a fist and crimped the chain in her grip. The slide of metal links through her fingers, each coiling into the next, echoed through her body. Her skin tingled again, not from the touch of steel, but as she pictured his big hands on her.

His jet eyes glittered. “Are you sure it isn’t yours? You seem like you want it.”

She wanted something anyway.

 

Read all of DARK HUNTER’S TOUCH now:

Praise for the novels of the Marked Souls:

“Slade’s plot packs plenty of action…in a group of forceful personalities.”

Publishers Weekly 

“[A] fish-out-of-water story that keeps a rapid pace, delivering a strong plot, enjoyable characters and a stunning world.”

RT Book Reviews
, 4 Stars

About Jessa Slade

Jessa Slade is a blatant space captain groupie. Give her a hot ship and a cool stare and she swoons. To this day, say Firefly around her and she cries. She likes to quote Han Solo, giggle at Kirk's shirts, and harbors a soft spot (in the head) for Buck Rogers. Shameless, I tell you. You can often find her goofing off online.

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www.JessaSlade.com

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For the latest news on upcoming releases, subscribe to Jessa’s
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Marked Souls Series

Steel Born Series

Read the first chapters of all the Marked Souls and Steel Born novels at
JessaSlade.com

Jessa Slade’s books are available at
Amazon

Acknowledgements

 

From Erin:

When I was a teenager, I played Deanna Troi in my family's holiday production,
Star Trek: The Search for Christmas Spirit
. I emoted a lot, and I'm told, very convincingly. My big sister was Guinan; she wore a salad bowl draped with a bed sheet on her head. Yeah, that's how my family rolls. Growing up, I was steeped in all things speculative, and I loved every minute of it. The abundance of possibilities for the imagination fuels my writing today. First and foremost, thank you to my mom, dad, brothers and sisters, who introduced me to so many great worlds. And to Jessa Slade and KC Klein for helping me explore one of my own here.

 

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