Play now!  30 Winners!
$1,100.00 in prizes from Amazon, Macy's, Lowes and Home Depot!

CRYSTAL SHADOWS
by Joy Nash
ISBN: 1-4199-0059-5

 ORDER THIS BOOK from Ellora's Cave! 
(this link opens a new browser window)

Adult content and strong language - must be 18 years or older

"A dark stranger is your enemy."  Crystal scientist Gina Petrillo scoffs at the fortuneteller's words, until she enters a world where crystals are magic.  Thought to be a dangerous sorceress in a land where a woman's use of power is forbidden, Gina is imprisioned by a powerful wizard.  An erotic link binds her mind with her captor's--will be claim her heart as well?

REVIEWS

“Crystal Shadows is an absolutely amazing novel. Joy Nash has created a world complete with its own mythology. I will add this one to my keeper shelf.”  --Elise Lyn, eCataRomance Reviews

Adult content and strong language - must be 18 years or older

CHAPTER ONE

“Gina, it’s perfect.”

Gina Petrillo eyed the transparent gown Mikala had unearthed from a murky corner of Crystal Shadows, a funky New Age boutique not far from the Princeton University campus.

“Right,” she said. “Perfect. If I want to star in a porn remake of The Addams Family.” The dress was a see-through cousin of the one Morticia Addams had worn in the old television series.

“Oh, come on.” Mikala held the black and silver creation against Gina’s chest. “It’s not that bad. With all that dark hair cascading down your back, you’ll be an incredibly sexy sorceress.”

Gina just looked at her.

Mikala shoved the dress back on the rack. “You’ve got to find something. The Wizards’ Ball is tomorrow night.”

“I never said I would go. Hanging out with a bunch of role-playing geeks isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.”

“I know, but do it for me, okay? I told my students I’d be there and I really don’t want to go alone.” Mikala renewed her safari through the costume rack. “Besides, you’ve been divorced for six months and the only place you go after dark is the crystals lab. That’s not healthy.”

Gina feigned interest in an aromatherapy display. “Did you transfer to the Psych Department when I wasn’t looking?”

Mikala moved too close and touched Gina’s arm. “You know, I’m here if you want to talk about it.”

“What’s to talk about? My husband couldn’t keep his pants zipped. I was lucky I found out before we had kids.”

“He took Heather Clark to the Math Department picnic, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” Gina moved farther down the aisle.

Mikala followed. “You’re hiding, Gina, when you should be out showing the world you’re glad you dumped that loser. Put on something outrageous and go to the Wizards’ Ball. Who knows? You could meet someone new.”

“Like a tall, dark, computer wizard?”

“That’s very funny, but you can’t win if you don’t play. Ooh, look—” Mikala ran a manicured fingernail over the trim on a purple velvet gown. “Crystals—right up your alley.”

Gina squinted at the rows of stones. “They’re glass. Not crystalline at all.”

“Even this one?”

A faceted pink gem the size of a silver dollar accented the costume’s plunging neckline. “Rose quartz. Very common.”

“I hear it’s great for opening your heart chakra.”

Gina snorted. “You know, before I met you, I never realized a Math professor could be so whacked.”

“Hey, it’s not until you study higher mathematics that you appreciate how bizarre things really are. For example, did you know it’s possible any number of universes occupy the same space as ours?”

“You’ve been watching way too much late night sci-fi TV.”

Mikala shrugged. “Maybe.” She held the purple dress higher and tapped the rose quartz crystal. “But Gina, you spend all day—and most nights—surrounded by crystals. How can you not feel the auras radiating from your lab specimens?”

“They’re just minerals, Mikala. Rocks. It’s not like there’s anything magic about them. Look, I’m sorry about the Ball, but finals were yesterday. I have a ton of papers to grade.”

“That’s the lamest excuse—”

“Blessings, daughters.” An old, hunched woman wrapped in ruffles and scarves slipped into the space between Gina and a rubber mask of Yoda. “You see something that pleases, no?”

“Yes,” said Mikala, holding out the velvet gown. “My friend wants to try this on.”

“No, she doesn’t.” Gina extracted the costume from Mikala’s fingers and shoved it back on the rack. “We’re just looking.”

“Ah.” The crone nodded. “Searching. Just so.” A blue-veined claw clutched Gina’s arm. “Come.” She nodded toward an alcove obscured by strings of beads.

“Wait a min—”

“Look, Gina,” Mikala said, pointing at a crude, hand-lettered sign. “Crystal readings by Madam Rose. You should get one.”

The old woman smiled, showing a row of crooked, yellow teeth. “Yes. I do for you.”

“That is such bull and you know it,” Gina said to Mikala under her breath.

“Oh, lighten up. It’ll be fun. My treat.” Mikala gave Gina a little push toward the alcove.

Madam Rose’s beady eyes gleamed.

“I’m getting you back for this,” Gina muttered. She ducked through the swinging beads into a tiny room lit by flickering candles and obscured by perfumed smoke. A low table and two stools were wedged between a haphazard assortment of cupboards and shelves. Every available surface was piled with crystals.

Whoa. Madam Rose had some incredible specimens. Gina trailed a finger over a hunk of azurite the size of a softball. You certainly didn’t see that every day.

“You’ve got a fantastic collection,” she told the woman.

“You like? Good.” Madam Rose bobbed her chin. “Pick.”

“What?”

“Pick stone. For reading.”

Gina’s gaze traveled over the shelves and halted on a clear, flat prism with a surface like wet ice. Selenite. Crystallized gypsum. Her chest tightened. No two natural crystals were exactly alike, but this particular specimen bore an uncanny resemblance to the one her father had given her on her eighth birthday, after Gina had announced her intention to become a geologist. It had the same glassy face, the same jagged imperfection along one edge.

Of course, it couldn’t be the same stone. Gina had placed that crystal inside her father’s coffin almost two years ago. Still…

She picked up the selenite and cradled it in her palm.

“Ice stone,” Madam Rose said. “Good choice. Open eye of future. See what comes.” She stretched a bony finger toward one of the stools. “Sit.”

An odd tingle crept up Gina’s spine. She sat, clutching the selenite specimen like some kind of talisman. The old woman took the opposite stool and leaned forward, her silver hoop earrings striking the sides of her wrinkled neck. Her gnarled hands covered Gina’s. The stone warmed, as if it had come alive.

Damn. Mikala’s New Age psychobabble was dribbling into Gina’s brain.

Madam Rose’s breathing ran shallow. Her eyes lost their focus. “You have known deception, my daughter. Death.”

Gina gave a nervous laugh. “Who hasn’t?”

The old woman lifted Gina’s hands and peered at the crystal. “I see dark stranger.” She frowned. “Your enemy. He is hidden.”

Gina heard Mikala out in the shop, humming as she rummaged through the merchandise. This was beyond ridiculous. The only hidden enemies Gina had were computer viruses.

Madam Rose closed her eyes. “Danger.” She uttered a word in an incomprehensible language. “A journey. Far from home. Few choices.”

A shiver chased down Gina’s spine.

Madam Rose’s voice deepened to a throaty whisper. “Dark man is strong. He comes for you. Will you defeat him?” Her withered arms trembled.

Gina held her breath.

The old woman bowed her head. “The outcome is uncertain,” she whispered. She withdrew her hands, leaving Gina’s resting on the table.

Gina let the selenite slide through her fingers as she expelled the air from her lungs in one long stream. The outcome was uncertain? What a crock.

And some people really believed this garbage. Now that was truly frightening.

She pushed her way through the beaded curtains into the shop. Mikala appeared from behind a display of goddess statues.

“Well, how was it? Tall, dark and handsome in sight?”

“The outcome is uncertain,” Gina told her.

“Isn’t it always?” Mikala sighed. “Madam Rose, what do I owe you for the reading and the dress?” She nodded toward the cash register.

The purple velvet gown lay in elegant disarray on the scarred wood counter. “Oh, no, you don’t—” Gina said.

“Humor me,” Mikala interrupted. “Be a sorceress for the Ball. I swear the next time you need a roommate for a rip-roaring crystallography convention, I’ll be there.”

“Oh, all right. But if one of your students hits on me, I’m turning him into a frog.”

* * * * *

The damn dress itched like hell.

Gina shoved past three wizards and a Hobbit in an effort to get closer to the door. Mikala hadn’t been kidding when she’d said the place would be packed. Gina had to admit she was impressed. The Victorian mansion rented by The Wizards, Princeton’s underground fantasy society really set the atmosphere.

Fake cobwebs dangled from the gaslight chandeliers in the ballroom, casting creepy shadows over the crowd. Costumes ranged from horrific to banal. A rotting zombie stood near the fireplace, an evil queen danced with a tarnished knight and a particularly unrealistic werewolf leaned against the bar, scarfing down a lite beer.

The alternative band The Undead was setting a new record for volume. Gina scanned the room, but Mikala—the traitor—had snared a sexy vampire about an hour ago and was nowhere in sight.

The party had started at midnight. It was now almost dawn. She should have brought her own car. At this rate, she’d be lucky to get home before noon.

She reached the doorway at last, gulping air as she freed herself from the worst of the crush. The early morning breeze raised goose bumps on the exposed portion of her breasts, which—due to her plunging décolletage—was far too much territory. She tugged at the velvet neckline, trying to coax the rose quartz crystal to a more modest position.

The slate-tiled veranda was nearly as crowded as the ballroom, so Gina elbowed her way into the garden. Thick woods crowded the edges, lending an aura of seclusion. A tall hedge of antique roses edged a cut grass path, and a few early blossoms were even open. She moved down the winding trail. Here in the garden, Princeton and the rest of New Jersey seemed far away, as if the plot existed in some other time or space.

The calm reached out to her, teasing memories of spring days spent digging in the dirt with her father. He’d been a doctor, but had loved working the earth with his hands. Mikala was right about one thing. Gina spent entirely too much time in the lab.

She ducked into a deserted gazebo at the edge of the garden and sat down on the circular bench ringing the center column. Her brief marriage to Michael had been the one aberration in her otherwise perfectly ordered existence. Now that she was free of him, she should be getting on with her life.

Trouble was she just couldn’t summon up enough enthusiasm to do it.

Footsteps intruded on her musings. A woman giggled, drawing a husky male laugh. Gina sat up, heart suddenly pounding. She knew that throaty chuckle only too well.

Michael. With Heather, his lay-of-the-month.

The voices drew closer. “Ooh, look—a gazebo! Let’s do it there, Michael.”

“Anything you want, baby.”

Damn.

Thick woods crowded the rear of the gazebo—was there a back way out? Yes. A panel of gingerbread trellis had come loose. She slipped through, yanking her velvet skirt after her an instant before her ex stepped into the gazebo. The splintered edge of the wood scraped her bare arm.

She watched through the trellis slats as Michael sank onto the bench in the exact spot Gina had vacated. He was dressed as a pirate in a striped shirt and snug breeches, a ridiculous patch obscuring one eye. Heather, her double-D breasts spilling from a tavern wench costume, dropped to her knees and got right down to business. Her fingers made short work of the tie on Michael’s breeches. His long, thin cock sprung into her hands.

Heather dipped her head. A loud slurp followed. Michael let out a muffled groan. Gina inched away, brambles grabbing at her hair. A thorn snagged her skirt. She pulled the velvet free, trying not to make a sound, cursing under her breath when she heard it rip.

Geez, Petrillo, where is your spine? She should have headed back to the ballroom by way of the garden path, breezing past Michael and Heather without a glance. Instead, she was skulking away, as if she had been the one caught groping in the dark like a horny teenager.

Stop the insanity. She should turn around right now and retrace her steps through the gazebo.

Another slurp reached her ears.

On the other hand, she had no desire to watch Heather Clark suck off Michael’s pencil-dick.

Michael’s rough voice drifted on a breeze. “Oh, yeah, that’s sweet. Take it deeper, baby.”

“I can’t, Michael.” Heather voice was a combination of breathless and whiny. “That’s as far as I can go.”

“I like it deeper, babe.”

A gagging sound told Gina that Heather was trying her best to give Michael a deep throat blowjob. Too bad it wouldn’t be enough. With Michael, it never was. Mikala was right about another thing—Gina should be glad she finally got free of him. And she would be, if only she could figure out how to shake the feeling of utter failure her ruined marriage had brought.

Turning her back on Michael’s increasingly lusty groans, Gina plunged deeper into the forest, stumbling a little on a sudden downhill slope. Which way was the mansion? She was trying to get her bearings when a flash of light burst from the stone at the center of her costume’s neckline.

Frowning, she peered down at it. How odd. The rose quartz crystal had taken on a faint glow.

She touched it. Warm. How could that be? She craned her neck, trying to get a better view.

The stone’s inner light strengthened. Flashed. Ringing stirred the air, obscuring the faraway music from the Ball. A thousand bells sounded, chiming softly at first, then growing strident.

Fierce nausea assaulted her. Oh, God. That’s what she got for drinking hard liquor on an empty stomach. Her vision was weirding out, too. A shining strand of light hung before her eyes, floating like a golden spider trail. The thread split, became two, then four, then countless glittering filaments, turning and twisting, close enough to touch, yet at the same time a universe away.

The forest shimmered. The ground dissolved. A gust of wind passed through the trees and sent the world spinning.

Gina hit the earth with a jolt that knocked the air from her lungs. Leaning forward, she concentrated on sucking in a series of painful breaths as the nausea washed over her, then slowly faded.

Struggling to her feet, she stood on shaking legs. What the hell had happened? She squinted down at the rose quartz crystal. The light was gone.

She touched it. Cold.

She must have imagined the changes in the stone. There was no other logical explanation.

The air was still and silent. The faint strains of music from the Ball had faded. The band must have called it a night.

“I greet you, Mistress.”

Gina spun around. A gangly undergraduate wearing a tunic, breeches, and a black cloak swept her a bow. Where the hell had he come from? There was something strange about his speech. An accent or something. He was probably a foreign student.

“Are you one of The Wizards?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“I got a little lost,” Gina told him. “Which way back to the Ball?”

He lifted his hand, pointing to one side. “This way, Mistress.”

The kid turned and started up a faint trail. Gina followed. The mansion had to be at the top of the hill.

Early morning sunlight slanted through the trees, illuminating a forest that seemed half-dead. Mottled leaves littered the ground and clustered in the hollows between moss-covered roots. Brittle branches creaked overhead. Funny. Gina hadn’t noticed the condition of the woods last night, but then again, it had been dark when she and Mikala arrived at the Ball.

After a short hike, she waded through a tangle of brush and blinked into the rising sun. No Victorian mansion greeted her. No garden or parking lot. Only a bucolic, mist-shrouded valley.

A knot formed in her gut.

Across the fog, a steep hill climbed lazily into the sky, carrying a city of gray stone. An enormous monolith in the shape of a shining black pyramid capped the peak. What the—?

A ray of light glinted off the fantastic structure, sending a flash of light across the valley. The knot in Gina’s stomach tightened.

She locked her knees to keep from falling, panic clawing at her lungs. To her left, rolling hills and thick forests stretched to a distant horizon. No highways, no housing developments, no shopping malls. A wide expanse of ocean lay to the right, but Gina knew she wasn’t at the Jersey shore.

She had to be dreaming. Or hallucinating.

Or dead.

Because the scene before her didn’t—couldn’t—exist.

* * * * *

A woman?

Derrin frowned. A woman was not at all what he had expected to emerge from the brilliant strands of light.

True, the web binding the edges of the world held unimaginable power, but Derrin had never considered the possibility another world—other beings—existed beyond it. He shook his head. This woman’s appearance boded ill, of that he was certain.

He touched the shadow crystal hanging from a chain about his neck, sinking his mind into the gem as he did so. The crystal, the most powerful one he’d ever created, nestled in a cage of pure silver. He’d called forth the stone’s power before following High Wizard Balek’s apprentice from the city, but that had been in the hour before dawn, when the forest had been dark. Now, with a single thought, Derrin deepened the protection, wrapping his crystal’s shadow around his body like a cloak. Confident he would not be detected, he stepped into the light of the rising sun.

He circled Maator, all the while keeping his eyes trained on the woman from beyond the web. She was staring across the valley at Katrinth, Galena’s proud capital city, her dark eyes wide with disbelief.

Her face paled, accentuating her fine, high cheekbones. A long tangle of dark hair hung down her back. Her aspect seemed unremarkable enough, though her dress was scandalous by Galenan standards. Her breasts were all but spilling from her gown.

Her fingers fisted into her torn skirt. Tiny bits of glass edged the dark fabric. Those were unremarkable, but a magnificent pink crystal nestled in her cleavage. Derrin’s breath hissed through his teeth. He had never seen a crystal the color of the pale sea roses. Was she a sorceress? Had Balek summoned her because of it?

Maator spoke to the woman, but Derrin was not near enough to make out his words. The sorceress tore her gaze from the city to stare at the apprentice. She appeared dazed, and more than a little unsteady. Her mouth opened, as if to reply to Maator’s remark, but no answer emerged. Instead, her eyes fluttered closed and her knees buckled.

Maator sprung forward and caught her before she hit the ground. Straightening, he shifted his burden in his arms and extracted a silver prism from the pouch at his belt. A shadow crystal, not unlike Derrin’s own. The stone flared and the two figures faded. Shadowed, but not completely.

Derrin would be a poor wizard indeed if he could be thwarted by an apprentice’s defenses.

He allowed his vision to blur. Within seconds, he detected the slight disturbance in the air currents that indicated his quarry had started the descent to the city. He closed in swiftly. The path led into the scattering fog along the river road.

He passed a scattering of half-timbered cottages and entered the city through the market gate. The broad, unpaved plaza beyond was alive with shouts and good-natured haggling. At the far end of the square, fishermen were already unloading the morning catch onto the docks.

Maator avoided the bulk of the activity, skirting the vendors’ stalls and slipping into the fetid warren of crude dwellings that marked the Lower City. Derrin ducked into a gloomy alley after him, sidestepping a pile of excrement where a derelict lay wheezing. Open pustules covered the man’s skin. His matted beard crawled with insects.

Another victim of the Madness.

The guards stationed at the gates to the Upper City did not stir as Derrin trailed Maator through the wide archway. Here, the paved streets were wide and straight, the graystone mansions large and well-appointed. As always, their sedate façades seem to frown on Derrin’s passing.

Maator’s footsteps didn’t slow. He carried the limp body of the sorceress through the steep streets, climbing ever higher. Entering the High Plaza in the shadow of the Lords’ Citadel, he skirted the elaborate façade of the Temple of Lotark and the sweeping main stairway of the Wizards’ Stronghold. He entered the Stronghold through a seldom-used entrance on a side wall of the pyramid.

Derrin waited a few moments before following Maator into the home of the Wizards’ Hierarchy. He turned the corner leading to Balek’s chambers as a door thudded shut.

He approached it and listened. Maator and his mentor were speaking, their voices muted by the thick wooden barrier. Derrin slid a clear stone disc from the pouch at his belt and set it aglow with a silent command.

“Is she the one, Master?” Maator asked.

Derrin peered into his scrying stone and watched as the apprentice lowered the unconscious woman onto a bench. Her torn dress fell open, exposing one shapely thigh. Balek advanced, the sash of the Upper House of Wizards blood-red against the black of his tunic. A faceted crystal, tinged with gold, nestled in the high wizard’s upturned palm. Power shimmered around it.

Revulsion tightened Derrin’s gut. He’d touched the unholy gem Balek called the webstone only once. He wasn’t eager to repeat the experience.

Balek brushed the crystal against the woman’s forehead and whispered a single word. Her spine arched.

The high wizard leaned forward. “Yes,” he whispered. “She is the one.” He passed his hand over the woman’s face, causing her to gasp.

Derrin swore under his breath. Balek had linked the woman’s mind to the webstone.

It was not a union her psyche would survive.

He withdrew and waited, shadowed in an alcove by the stairs, all the while watching the scene in Balek’s chamber in the scrying stone. He saw Maator carry the woman to a rear chamber, then returned to the workroom. After what seemed an interminable time, Balek left to join the High Wizards’ Council.

Derrin eased from his hiding place. Wrapped in the dark cloak of his shadow crystal, he entered Balek’s suite through a rear portal. Within moments, he had transferred the woman to his own chamber. She rolled to her side on his bed and curled into a ball, moaning. Already, the webstone’s power seeped through her mind. Could the link be broken?

Derrin knew of only one person—other than Balek—who could tell him, but the journey to her door was long.

The woman groaned and tore at the bedcovers. Derrin knelt at her side, frowning, his gaze fixed on the crystal between her breasts. Was she a sorceress? If so, Balek risked much to summon her. A woman’s magic was as potent as it was unpredictable. The Hierarchy had banned females from the practice of wizardry for just that reason. Yet Balek had sought this woman since before the winter snows.

A sorceress from a world beyond the web would be a deadly weapon in the high wizard’s hands. There was no telling what ill forces she could unleash on Galena.

He should kill her. Now.

His hands stole to her throat. His fingers touched her skin, felt the pulse beating just below the surface. Warm. Alive. His gaze dropped to her breasts, round and firm and all but bare.

He hesitated. By all appearances, the sorceress wasn’t in league with Balek by choice. If Derrin could question her, the answers she provided might shed some light on the high wizard’s motives. Yet as long as her mind remained ensnared, she could tell him nothing.

He snatched his hands from her throat, his decision made. Swiftly, he gathered the few supplies he would need for a journey into the northern wilderness. Zahta would surely know how to free the woman’s mind.

Derrin only hoped after all these years, his grandmother would not turn him away.

* * * * *

Gina’s head felt like it had been cracked open from the inside. A dirty yellow haze scattered her thoughts and about a million little hammers pounded on her temple. But it wasn’t until she opened her eyes that she realized she had much bigger problems than a morning-after headache.

Like, where the hell was she?

She was propped upright against a rough wall, sharp stone biting into her spine. Tight cords chafed her ankles, sending shocks of pain up her legs. The scents of smoke and earth mingled with the musk of her own sweat. She twisted her arms, but her wrists were bound in front of her and the knot held fast.

The skirt of her gown was in shreds, the quartz crystal that had decorated the neckline gone. The bodice was torn, exposing her simple white bra. It was the skimpiest one she had, thanks to the low-cut of the costume, but at least it was something. Thank God she had ignored Mikala’s advice and worn it.

She fought a fierce urge to vomit. She’d been kidnapped. By whom? The memory of a black pyramid floated at the edges of her mind. The last thing she remembered was looking across a valley at a city that couldn’t possibly have been real. Someone had been there—a harmless-looking blond kid. After that, her memories disintegrated into sensation.

A yellow haze choking her brain. Movement. Struggle. A jarring ride, as if she’d been thrown on the back of a horse. She thought she’d screamed, fought, but she couldn’t be quite certain, as if she’d been…

Drugged. Someone must have slipped something into her drink at the Wizards’ Ball.

She peered into the dim light at her prison, a small room enclosed by a ring of primitive masonry. A ceiling of wooden ribs arched overhead. An animal skin draped the single doorway. Faint illumination dropped from a hole in the center of the roof onto a heap of smoldering ashes. The scene wavered, bringing a fresh rush of nausea. Whatever she had ingested, it hadn’t completely worn off.

Whoever had given it to her was sure to show up soon. She twisted sideways and eyed a sharp protrusion on the stone wall. Ignoring her lurching stomach, she hooked the rope binding her wrists over it and began to saw.

Movement outside the doorway. Muffled voices. “No,” a man said. His tone held a note of anger.

A woman answered. “My son, you alone have the power. There is no one else.” Her voice faded. Gina renewed her assault on the rope, but all too soon the drape at the door lifted.

Her time had run out.

She turned to see a figure silhouetted against a rectangle of light. Not the blond kid from the forest. A man.

He was costumed in black—tunic, breeches and boots. He approached with quick strides, his dark hair grazing his shoulders as he walked.

“Who are you?” she blurted out. “Why did you bring me here?”

In lieu of an answer, the man dropped to one knee and touched Gina’s face. Heat flashed across her skin.

An open gash slanted across his right cheekbone. If not for that imperfection, and the rigid cast of his features, Gina might have thought him handsome. As it was, the cold, gray mist of his eyes sent her heart pounding for an entirely different reason.

She fought another surge of vertigo. “Do you want money? Take me home and I’ll get it.”

“Are you a sorceress?”

“What?” The words were unfamiliar, as if he spoke in a foreign language, yet his meaning was clear. No doubt another effect of whatever drug she’d been given.

His hand came forward. She shrank back, against the stone, but he merely flicked a strand of hair from her eyes and drew back, watching her.

“Are you a sorceress?” he asked again.

“I was a sorceress at the Ball, yes. Are you one of The Wizards? Is this some kind of role-playing game?”

Disbelief flitted across his face. “Game? I assure you, Mistress. This is no game.”

The room lurched again. “I don’t remember seeing you at the Ball. When did you give me the drug?”

“Drug?”

“Cut the bull and tell me what the hell is going on,” Gina snapped. The yellow haze in her mind blazed hotly and a blinding surge of anger eclipsed her fear. She swung at him, her bound fists glancing off his shoulder. He caught her forearm. She twisted out of his grasp and fell on her side. The room spun faster than before.

The man rose over her. She bucked, trying to jam her knees into his groin. He dodged her awkward attack and leaned close, trapping her gaze in his, then sprang up with the grace of a cat to crouch at her side.

Gina tried to move. Her body refused to obey, though her captor was not restraining her in any way. The hazy yellow cloud in her mind dulled and thickened. Her breath heaved as he leaned forward, filling her vision.

His mind touched hers. A gentle probe at first, then a more persistent, intimate stroke.

No. This couldn’t be happening.

Open.

The command, heard in the deepest recesses of her brain, was not a distinct syllable. Had it truly come from the man’s mind? Impossible. It was an illusion, an effect of the drug.

Yet it felt so real. He called again, more urgently this time, and for a fleeting moment Gina wanted nothing so much as to let him in.

“Please,” the man said aloud, his voice tight. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Open.

In the space of a heartbeat, she obeyed.

  ORDER THIS BOOK from Ellora's Cave! 
(this link opens a new browser window)

More Previews

Biography | Bookshelf | Guest Book
Home | Newsletter

Special Offers for Authors on book promotion and web design

AUTHORS

The Romance Club Home Page