Okay, reading friends. Good times! Here’s a contest in connection with the STRANGE AND LOVELY: PARANORMAL TALES OF THRILLS AND ROMANCE for you!
First, here’s the GIVEAWAY! There are a TON of books being given by the TEN authors involved. Freeeeeeebieeeeeees! Who doesn’t love that?
Here’s the link (since I STINK at embedding code. Just click it. Sorry.)
Now, if you’re going to be a reader of this anthology (and I think you should!) Here’s a place to pre-order!
The book comes out October 4th, but all early orders have a SPECIAL PRICE! So just do it.
Meanwhile, I’ll be posting teasers from the stories. I’ll start with the teaser from CJ Anaya, my good friend! Her story is about a girl who meets an elvish guy. A very attractive one. But he’s going to kill her. So…enjoy “My Fair Assassin.”
Having someone tell you they’ve come to end your pathetic existence is probably an uncommon occurrence. I can’t imagine that anyone intent on murder would have the decency to pause long enough to look their victim in the eye, st…ate their mission and purpose, and with very little feeling, explain that the end result of their victim’s death will benefit an entire race.
Then again, what do I know?
There’s always the slim chance that plenty of killers are far more civil seconds before committing such a depraved act, but how would any of us ever be privy to those morbid details when the victims never live to share said details?
I knew I’d never live long enough to share mine.
The well-muscled warrior standing several feet in front of me had made that abundantly clear. I studied him intently, deciding it would be best to memorize every inch of him in case I managed to escape and succeeded in describing my would-be assassin to the local authorities.
Right! My need to drink in his image had absolutely nothing to do with his six-foot frame, broad shoulders, sharp, chiseled features, and flawless, crystal-blue orbs framed by a sturdy brow.
Weren’t murderers supposed to be ugly, unkempt psychos? This guy was a carbon copy of most of the Abercrombie models I lived to drool over. He had an otherworldly look and feel to him, and his clothing appeared to be made out of some kind of forest-green leather. His hands were gloved up to his knuckles, and his skin let off a golden, florescent glow.
I might have attributed his all-too-perfect tan to the San Diego weather, but I doubted other men in the vicinity were capable of making their skin glitter slightly whenever the sun’s rays kissed them. I didn’t think someone as imposing as this guy would have spent time throwing gold body glitter all over himself, but I couldn’t figure out what else he’d done to get his skin to shimmer like that. He looked like a warm summer evening, and smelled like the earth after a spring rain.
His hair was shoulder-length, shiny, and lightning white. Not the kind of graying white you might find on your local senior citizen, but the kind that looks like heaven.
His movements as he studied me and my dingy apartment were stiff and watchful. His expression was that of guarded curiosity, and when my cat, Nala, made a small whining noise from my bedroom down the hall, his stance came to attention and his arm muscles went taut as he withdrew a small dagger from a sheath at his waist.
Honestly, where had this guy come from, and why weren’t we dating?
Oh, yeah. He was here to kill me.