In the midst of a smoky club, a firestorm of lust whips through Mahara Jones, drenching her panties, heating her core. The abnormal desire leaves her helpless and confused until her boss, Titus Declan, sweeps her away into the world of were-panthers and she learns she is destined to be his mate and queen of the Turquoise Moon tribe. It is a night of secrets and discovery, of sexual pleasure without equal, but her hybrid psychic powers present Titus with a challenge of his own. Tonight it will take more than one strong were-panther to bring her fully into his world. With the sexual help of his closest lieutenants, Titus will claim his queen and ensure the future of their species.
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November 13, 2009
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Excerpt from Feral Moon by Regina Carlysle
Shock whipped through her system and she was so stunned she could only nod mutely when James swept Trish off to the dance floor. Something unexplainable was happening to her and it had been going on for days. It had begun as little things that she'd thought were just weird premonitions. Like James coming up behind Trish when he had. She'd seen it in her mind before it happened. And her body. Something bizarre was going on. Every beat of the music made her blood heat and the very core of her body pulse to a pagan tempo. Restlessly, she squirmed in her chair and sent her gaze wildly around the room. Her panties were drenched. Mahara rubbed her thighs together hoping against hope to stem the rising tide. Sexual excitement rose up like a great beast to center in her pussy, deep and pulsing, a release longing to break free. She wanted to grab the nearest man and throw him to the floor and take him like an animal.
Every tiny hair on the back of her neck rose to attention and Mahara's heart thumped sharply in her chest. The turquoise stone in her ring heated against the finger on her right hand where she wore it. Lifting her glasses, she settled them back on her nose but she didn't need them any longer and wearing them was just stupid. A visit to her eye doctor would only tell her what she already knew. Her vision seemed to have perfected itself overnight. Impossible. Through the lenses, the ring went fuzzy. Mahara huffed a breath and yanked them off, shoved them in her purse just as their waitress came up. "Drink?"
"Um, no. But could you do me a favor?"
Mahara glanced toward the dance floor. "Could you tell my friend that I have to take off?"
Shakily, she got to her feet and slung the strap of her purse over her shoulder intending to walk the few blocks to her downtown apartment. The feeling of being stalked hit her in a giant wave and she felt her knees start to buckle but she caught herself on the edge of the table. Suddenly, a huge hand wrapped around her elbow to steady her and she looked up to see her boss, the great Titus Declan staring down at her.
She'd never seen or known a more devastating man. Big, brawny, ripped with muscle, he looked like a Viking bent on plunder with that longer-than-fashionable black hair and weird golden eyes. But he was her boss. She barely knew him. Suddenly, she blinked. "Mr. Declan."
"Let me help you."
Mahara felt her legs turn to rubber. The warmth of his touch seeped through the cotton of her blouse and a wave of longing, of heat swept her. The ring seemed to vibrate against her hand. Wetness, created by an awful lust, drenched her, seeped from her core. She wanted sex. Craved it. Oh God! She was in big trouble and didn't know what to do about it. Tears filled her eyes as she stared up at him. "Help me."
Without another word, he put his arm around her and drew her close to his body. She had the sudden insane urge to sink into him and crawl up the all that brawn and take his mouth. She wanted his cock soothing the awful ache in her pussy. His smell was intoxicating. Mahara felt her heart thump wildly in her chest. "I-I think someone put something in my drink," she managed.
He only tightened his grip. His hand skimmed her arm and a shiver followed in its wake. Sweat beaded her forehead. When they reached the entrance to the club, he drew her to the brick wall near the front door. Neon white from the overhead sign splashed light intermittently over his feral features. The front of his shirt grazed her nipples and she gasped at the feel of the firm muscles beneath the fabric. Pleasure-pain, wicked sensation, made her moan.
"What's wrong with me?" Mahara gripped his sides and stared up at him. "I'm so embarrassed."
"Don't be. All will be clear soon."
"I don't understand."
He pressed his lips to her forehead as he replied. "Soon. You'll understand soon."