Saturday, December 24, 2011

Paranormal Mates Society III by Ann Jacobs, Kira Stone, Cat Marsters, Amelia Elias and Isabella Jordan

Paranormal Mates Society Vol. III (Collection)
by Ann Jacobs, Isabella Jordan, Kira Stone, Cat Marsters and Amelia Elias

Cover art: Bryan Keller and Karen Fox and Fabiano Fabris
ISBN: 978-1-60521-685-0
Genre(s): Paranormal
Theme(s): Shapeshifters
Series: Paranormal Mates Society Multi-Author
Length: Collection
Page Count: 281

A god tries to keep from putting the man of his dreams to sleep, a vampire Dom handles two sexy subs, a satyr plays a practical joke on the God of War and the Fury of Disasters, the site administrator's sex life heats up thanks to a sexy satyr, and a woman posing as a witch finds love with a werewolf can truly be -- it's Satan's own online dating service, and chaos has never been quite this hot!
This anthology contains the previously released Paranormal Mates Society novellas Insomnia, O Positive, Loving Fury, Playing with Matches, and The Midnight Hour. These titles are all available as individual e-book releases. This collection is also available in print!
Paranormal Mates Society Vol. III (Collection)
All rights reserved.
Excerpt from Loving Fury
Copyright ©2011 Amelia Elias

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
"Hey," he murmured, cupping my face in his hands. "Thera, talk to me. What's going on?"
I tried to bat his hands away. They stayed put, stubbornly unbattable. Finally I gave in to the inevitable and glared at him, not hiding the moisture on my cheeks. "There, are you happy now?" I snapped. "Want to make fun of me a little more? Maybe this will solidify your reputation as the Bad-Ass of Olympus—the Great Ares, the god who made a Fury cry. That'd be perfect for you, wouldn't it?"
"Shit," he whispered, but he didn't release me. His hands slid down to my shoulders, holding them in a gentle grip that was still unbreakable. "Thera, I -- damn, I'm sorry. I thought... well, I mean, I assumed...”
"I know what you assumed," I said, trying to get hold of myself and failing miserably. The tears were falling in a steady rain now. "You assumed what everyone else does -- Furies don't have feelings. We don't think of anything but destruction, don't want anything but blood, don't value anything but suffering. Well, guess what? You and everyone else forget one little fact -- I'm a goddess, same as any other! Does Athena think only of collecting more wisdom? Does Artemis hunt all the time, forsaking everything else? Does Aphrodite spend her every waking moment screwing?"
Ares was looking at me like he'd never seen me before -- and I suppose he hadn't. "With Aphrodite, it's close," he said, but he didn't smile. "I'm sor --"
"Yeah, you're sorry, everyone's sorry, big fucking deal," I interrupted, again trying to escape his grasp and again failing. "At least you've done one thing for me -- I won't waste any more time trying to be something no one will let me be. Damn it, Ares, will you let me go already?"
He shook his head. "Not until you let me apologize properly," he said, and when I took a breath to yell at him some more, he stopped my mouth with his own.
I froze. His lips were firm, his tongue teasing; he tasted of the sweet dessert wine and a hint of spice, and I didn't have a clue what to do with him when he was kissing me. He nipped my lip, surprising a gasp from me and making me aware for the first time that I wasn't breathing. I jerked my head away as if waking from a dream.
"What do you think you're doing?" I snapped, trying for outraged and only achieving breathless.
"Apologizing," he murmured as he scattered little kisses over my jaw.
"I don't need a pity-fuck in an elevator to make me feel better," I growled, and tried to shut up every neglected part of my body that was screaming for me to take it back, that pity-fucks were just fine and they'd like one or two of them right now.
He nuzzled my earlobe, which immediately joined the chorus of body parts clamoring for a good fucking, pity-induced or otherwise. "Too bad," he whispered. He caught my hand and pressed it to the front of his slacks, molding my palm against the rigid length behind his zipper. "What about one to make me feel better?"
Yes! my body screamed. I told it to shut up and tried not to notice the thickness of his cock under my hand, the warm, hard size of it. I failed utterly. "Get off me!"
"No," he said, and this time when he kissed me, he was serious about it.

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