Plot Monkeys

I’m on my way home from Boston. Actually, as I’m writing this, I’m about to get on a plane for Boston and by the time this posts, I’ll be on my way home. That means I really will have stuff to blog about next week, but right now, I’m only worrying about how much crap I can fit in my suitcase for a two day trip.

So…

Here’s an excerpt from WITCHY BUSINESS to hopefully entice you to order the book. I say order, because trust me, this sucker isn’t going to be easy to find in the stores. I nearly keeled over when I found four copies at Barnes and Noble. No copies were to be had at Waldens.

If you read STRIPPED and don’t want to miss the follow-up…and trust me, you don’t , then please order the book! You’ll also get stories by Rhonda Nelson (who guest blogged here last week!) and Mia Zachary, a Blaze favorite. Enjoy and I’ll “see” you all when I get back!

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In this exerpt, Regina, who has the position of Guardian Witch, and her former lover, Brock, a witch-hunter who previously tried to kill her, are on the run from his former boss, Old Movert. Because of Brock’s betrayal, Regina’s powers are greatly diminished…she has to use a wand and utter spells when before, she could do magic with a thought. They are attacked while in hiding by witch hunters…that’s what’s happening now.

Strategy for romance flew out of his mind the minute he heard her scream. Grabbing a handful of knives, he flew toward her voice. At the cave entrance, he saw her, flanked on either side by Hunters wielding crossbows. She had her wand at the ready. Several arrows lay at her feet, but a gash across her forearm proved that while she was wily with her spellwork, she was, for the moment, outgunned.

“Guardian!”

He shouted to her by her title, and then tossed a knife in her direction. The blade spun, the handle slamming into the palm of her hand on the rotation. In the split second where his Hunter brethren expected him to finish off their quarry, Regina spun, kicked out with her leg, knocking one Hunter to the ground while she sliced the other across the base of his neck.

He crumbled to the ground just as Brock leaped over his body and caught the second Hunter by the scruff. He disarmed him, flinging his crossbow out of reach.

“Your name,” Brock ordered.

The Hunter choked out a moniker Brock didn’t recognize.

“How did you find us?”

The Hunter didn’t respond quickly enough, so Brock applied pressure to the side of his neck until he screamed out in pain. The man was not wearing a protective amulet, one of the many Movert had created for his legions. He was either in disguise, undercover, or not associated with Movert’s war at all.

“This is our territory,” the Hunter replied.

Brock’s mind raced and he guessed that Regina’s safe haven of a cave must have been an old, established witch’s hiding place–perhaps one she didn’t realize had long been plotted on Hunter maps. Rogue hunters often trolled near these areas in hopes they’d stumble onto prey and perhaps, tonight, they’d just gotten lucky.

Or else Old Movert had found them.

“Who do you serve?”

The Hunter’s eyes widened and his lip curled in disgust. “I serve me and I’ll have that witch’s heart on my mantelpiece.” He narrowed his gaze at Brock, then spit at Regina, who’d started murmuring a spell, rotating her wand in small circles. “Who do you serve?”

Brock flung the Hunter against the hard stone wall. In a flash, Regina uttered the final word of the incantation and the Hunter disappeared in a flash of blue smoke. She did the same to the body on the ground, though she had to repeat the incantation twice.

She swallowed hard, looking down at the wand, seeing it for the fragile stick of wood it was. “I can’t defeat Movert this way. It’s too slow. Children play with wands, not Guardians.”

Brock tossed his remaining knives to the ground, knowing he couldn’t approach her armed. He stepped into her personal space, mindful this time of moving too quickly and scaring her away.

“Then take back your powers,” he said.

When her eyes met his, the liquid lavender swimming in her irises stopped his heart. “How can I?”

He swallowed thickly. “Love me.”

She shook her head. “You tried to kill me.”

“I tried to save you. Even tonight, I could have let these Hunters kill you. They were rogue. Movert would never have known it wasn’t me and my blood oath to him would have been fulfilled. Believe me. I love you. I’ve put my life on the line for you and I’ll willingly die for you–that much I’ve proved. But you can save yourself by giving in to what you know is true. Surrender to what your heart desires and everything you cherish will be yours again.”

She was shaking. He could see the conflict raging in her as she shook her head, trying to deny her heart.

He took a chance and smoothed his palms over her arms, careful not to grip her too tightly. “You’re hurt.”

She snorted. “’Tis but a scratch.”

His snicker lightened the moment, reminding him of the night they’d cuddled in her tower bedroom naked, munching on popcorn and watching Monty Python movies until dawn.

“Let go of your pride, Regina. You can love me and then let me go if that’s what you need to do, but only surrendering to your feelings will gain you what you need to survive. You can’t act as Guardian without your powers. And for the record, I won’t betray you again.”

In a flash of movement, Regina grabbed Brock by the collar of his shirt. For a split second, he hoped she’d kiss him, but instead, she dragged him back deeper into the cave, to where the fire smoldered and the atmosphere heated with smoke and spark. She released him, stalked over to the cache of supplies and dug into a duffel bag until she found an assortment of herbs. Choosing carefully, she created a bouquet of greenery, then tossed the collection into the fire, whipped out her wand and spoke an ancient incantation around the suddenly fragrant flames.

“I thought your powers,” he started, but stopped when she shushed him harshly, then grinned.

“Like you said before, I know spells that work no matter who utters them. So I guess I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

Brock returned her smile. Regina was nothing if not resourceful.

“Grab that poultice,” she said, flicking her wand toward a fragrant cloth that had tumbled out of the herb bag.

He complied.

She continued to wave her wand and chant, an incantation he hadn’t heard before. When she reached the third repetition, she switched her wand to her other hand and held out her injury. “Wrap my wound.”

She resumed her chanting. The fire burgeoned and the aromas crackling from within the embers started to affect his vision. He blinked, but applied the medicated cloth to her arm until the wound was covered and the gauzy material was knotted in place.

“Good,” she said, not opening her eyes, barely taking a break in between reiterating the spell. “Now take off your clothes.”

Brock backed up, surprised, but the tiny grin teasing her lips told him she knew exactly what she doing. In the past, getting naked with Regina had never been a bad thing, so once again, he obeyed.

By the time his jeans had dropped to the ground, he noticed a swirling shower of sparks encircling them, casting a rainbow of flashing colors in a circle around them, bringing to mind images of psychedelic acid trips or movie special effects. For a split second, he thought about how this blatant display of magic should appall or disgust him as he’d been taught all his life, and yet, the beauty of the twinkling lights and the intimacy of the tight space and warm atmosphere seriously turned him on. His sex hardened, lengthened. His heartbeat accelerated and the concentrated heat in the cave caused a sheen of sweat to coat his exposed skin.

Regina put down the wand.

“We’re safe,” she said. Unbuttoning the blouse she wore with delicious slowness. “Safe within this circle to do whatever our hearts desire.”

Brock understood, but despite the drugging effect of the magic, he clung to the knowledge that a pretty protection spell might not be enough to hide them from Movert’s forces if the Hunters they’d fought at the cave entrance hadn’t been rogue as he’d surmised. Still, the rotating sparks were hypnotic and little by little, he could feel his concerns melting away.

“Movert,” he managed.

She shook her head as the material of her blouse fluttered to the ground, leaving her lacy flesh-toned bra exposed to the light. “Even if he walked into this cave right now, the magic would show him nothing but bare stone walls.” She reached behind her and unhooked her lingerie, allowing the straps to caress her shoulders and arms as they slid to the ground. “Make love to me, Brock. Reawaken my love for you so that my powers will return.”

He wanted to ask, “And then what?” but he squelched the question by dipping his gaze to her breasts. Round, full and tipped with hard, dark nipples, they begged for his touch, his tongue. He strode toward her and dropped to his knees in front of her, splaying his hands over her hips.

“This can’t be real,” he muttered.

She maneuvered her hands between his, undid the top button and zipper of her jeans, then speared her hands into his hair, tugging him close so that he could inhale the scent of her arousal. “As real as magic.”

This entry was posted on Wednesday, September 12th, 2007 at 6:00 am and is filed under Julie. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.