Thursday, October 26, 2006

Night Music: Beginnings Anthology by Charlene Teglia

Night Music: Beginnings Anthology

Copyright 2006 by Charlene Teglia

Samhain Publishing, all rights reserved

Individual ebook Oct. 31

Print anthology Nov. 21


Meghan Davies has been living a dream as the bass player for the all-female hit rock band, The Sirens. But the dream becomes a nightmare with the discovery that cancer, undetected and now too far gone, heralds the end of everything.

Romney Kearns has been watching the sharp-tongued, flame haired woman from afar, wanting, but never approaching because he can offer her nothing but death.

When he discovers that death already has her marked, he sets out on All Hallow’s Eve to seduce her, claim her, and make her willing to accept his dark offer. An alternative. Not life as she’s known it, but a kind of rebirth. Eternity with him and immortality for her to make night music.


Rom.” She shifted under him, restless, impatient. What was he waiting for?

“I love seeing you under me like this.” He smiled at her. “I love the feel of your flesh under mine, your sweet, hot cunt taking my cock. I can feel you opening for me, so wet, so ready for me.” Rom rocked into her, giving her another inch.

Rom. I need you now.” She arched up into him.

“Dying for it, are you?” He lowered his head to her neck, kissing the pulse point at her throat.

He had no idea. He couldn’t have any idea, the words were coincidence. And she was dying for it, aching for him, on fire for him. “Fuck me.”

“Oh, I will.” Rom’s voice was a dark promise in the night.

She felt his teeth scrape over her skin and then his mouth closed over hers again, hard, hot, taking her breath while he drove inside her and took her body. He was relentless, holding her down while he thrust his length into her again and again, forcing her to take the slow pace he set, not letting her shift to get more pressure where she wanted it, not letting her come.

The need built inside her until she would have screamed with it but his mouth devoured hers, allowing no sound escape.

Now. Now, she urged him with her mind, as if he could hear her. She needed more, needed it now.

Maybe he was psychic as well as a hypnotist because he changed his rhythm and began to slam into her, fast and furious, driving deep into her, taking her. She felt her inner muscles begin to pulse and then spasm in an orgasm that seemed to build and build, stretching out forever as he fucked her, peaking when she felt the burst of liquid heat as he spilled himself inside her.

Her heart felt like it was going to explode inside her chest, beating too hard, too fast, as she lay gasping under him.

Finally, she managed to say through bruised, swollen lips, “So you came to kill me with sex tonight.”

“No.” His lips moved over hers in a kiss as light as the brush of butterfly wings. “I just came to kill you.”

For news and excerpts, visit www.charleneteglia.com

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