A Demon's Kiss

A Demon’s Kiss by Sable Grey

Breathless Press Calgary, Alberta www.breathlesspress.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. A Demon’s Kiss Copyright© 2010 Sable Grey ISBN: 978-1-926771-91-5 Cover Artist: Sable Grey Editor: Mason Lavin All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. Breathless Press www.breathlesspress.com

To Kaye Spencer

1837 Roscoe, Colorado

Patricia Weaver tore down the alley, burst through the darkened doorway of the wooden storehouse, and crouched low. Her whole body shook, not from the chilled air of coming winter in Roscoe, Colorado, but from cold fear. Her heart thumped hard in her chest, and she clapped her hand over her mouth to silence the sound of her heavy breathing as the noise of a thousand wings swept through the alley outside. Then there was only silence. Leaning her head back against the crate of dry goods, she closed her eyes, and tears squeezed out from beneath her lids. She’d known Jack Avery since she was a child. He’d been one of the first to welcome her family to Roscoe when they’d settled there. As a girl she’d watched him from afar as he ran the general store, but recently, now that she was well past her twentieth year, her fascination had turned into something more physical. And then today, everything she’d believed was pulled out from under her. 1

A Demon’s Kiss Her body tensed as a soft step sounded near the door. “You needn’t be afraid.” That deep baritone voice, the one she’d often fantasized about in the quiet hours of the night, now caused a cold chill to race down her spine. She was afraid—more than she’d been in her whole life. “It’s going to rain.” As if to reiterate his soft-spoken forecast, thunder rumbled loudly overhead. “You can’t hide out in my storehouse forever. Come out from there and let us talk about this.” She didn’t move a muscle, keeping her eyes closed tight. There was nothing to talk about. She saw what she saw, and though she didn’t fully understand it, there was no explanation he could give that would ease her fears about a man who’d sprouted black wings, talons as long as railroad spikes, and had eyes that glowed like bright oil lanterns. “Tricia.” Her eyes flew open, and she found Jack Avery lowered on his heels in front of her, forearms resting across his thighs. He wore his typical cotton shirt, woolen britches, suspenders, and worn leather boots. No wings. No talons. His brown eyes didn’t shine with the golden glow of a devil’s. But the image was too clear for it to have been imagined. He’d been naked, mouth open as the other winged creature sucked at the wisp of smoke that had curled out from between his lips. His wings, and those of the other man as well, had been huge. His hands had been at his sides, those long black nails stretching out from each splayed finger. “You are shaking.” He held out a hand. “It’s cold out here. Come inside where it’s warm.” She shook her head. No. “I’m not going to hurt you, Tricia. You know I wouldn’t do anything to harm you.” He dropped his hand when she didn’t take it. “Didn’t I give you that fabric for your dress on your last birthday? Didn’t I help your father round up that old red bull two springs ago?” She nodded but still wouldn’t calm. “I...I saw you. You...you...you aren’t a man. Please...please don’t kill me.” “I’m not going to kill you.” “Just let me go. I won’t tell. I swear I won’t tell anyone.” Her breath quickened, and her hands shook. “No one would believe you if you did.” He sighed heavily. “Come on out from there. There’s nowhere for you to run in here.” He stood and took several steps back. She glanced at the doorway. She might 2

Sable Grey be able to make a run for it. She leapt to her feet and darted forward, then cried out when he caught her by the shoulders. “Settle down. Easy now,” he murmured softly. She couldn’t scream as she stared, terrified, up at those thickly lashed brown eyes. She tried to catch her breath, then closed her eyes tight, waiting for what horrible thing was about to happen. When he didn’t move, she opened her eyes again and tried to pull away. To her surprise he released her, and she stumbled backward. “You are right. I am not a man.” Those long fingers swept through his dark hair as he cocked the other hand on one hip. “I’m a demon.” “Oh God.” Patricia turned and rushed to the back wall, hiding her face in her hands. What was happening? A demon? She jumped when his strong fingers touched her waist, and she whirled, pressing her back against the rough wooden planks, staring at him. “Don’t look so scared,” he said, his voice quiet and gentle. “I’m not going to drag you to hell. I’m not that kind of demon. I’m a soul collector. That’s all. I’m trying to live a normal life here just like everyone else.” “You aren’t like everyone else.” He winced. “Only because of this one little thing.” “Little thing?” Her laugh teetered on the edge of hysteria. Maybe he meant to lure her back into the store so he and the other demon could devour her. “The other one is no longer here. He came to retrieve the souls I’ve collected. He’s gone now.” Jack lifted a hand to her face but stopped when she whimpered with fear. “Listen to what I’m telling you. I am not here to hurt anyone.” “Just to take our souls.” She tried to steady her breathing, to keep some calm so that hysterics wouldn’t take her over. “I collect souls, not take them. I collect the souls of the dead, only those that are already fated for hell.” He glanced up at the ceiling as the thunder grew louder. She tried to process what he’d told her, to make sense of it all. But it was too difficult. He was a demon. A demon! Living there in Roscoe. Doing business with her father. Oh God, she’d touched herself when thinking about him! She’d entertained daydreams about him. What did that mean for her soul? “I think I’m going to be ill.” Nausea threatened her stomach, but she didn’t heave. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. When she opened her eyes, he had his back to her and stood in the 3

A Demon’s Kiss doorway looking out. So long she had watched him, yearned to have moments alone with him. Now she wished she’d never told her father she wanted to stay behind in town to talk to Jack Avery. “I’d hoped you would be the one who would be able to accept me,” he said quietly. “You seemed more interested in me than others, and I had it in my head to ask you to marry me at some point.” She stared at the back of his head. “I’m not marrying a demon!” But she might have if she’d not found out the truth. That thought disturbed her. And what would that mean? Would he become that creature when they lay together? She shivered. Perhaps it would be worse. Perhaps he would have horns and a tail. “No horns. No tail.” Her eyes widened. How had he known what she was thinking? “A quirk for belonging to the daimónion world. I can hear your thoughts.” He didn’t look back at her. “It comes in handy at the store, to know what people really want and, when I take the stage to Denver, to know how low they’ll actually go in selling me my supplies.” Oh God. How many times had she looked at him and thought of him and her together? How many times had she stood at the store’s door while her father bought supplies and thought of his kiss, his touch? Her cheeks heated with shame. Maybe that was why he wanted to marry her. He thought her as sinful as he was! He turned and looked back at her. “You aren’t sinful, Tricia. You’d be surprised the thoughts that go through people’s heads, the secrets they keep. Some who you think are good, honest folks are darker than even the worst imaginable creatures.” She stared at him. “A person would go mad.” “I’ve learned to block most of them out. Some I don’t mind hearing so much.” He grinned sheepishly, and her cheeks heated up again. “A person’s thoughts are private. They aren’t meant to be shared,” she snapped. “How would you like it if I knew your deepest, darkest secrets?” “You do.” She blinked. For a moment she’d actually forgotten that he was a hound of hell. If he could read her thoughts, perhaps he could also manipulate her mind. Was he attempting to seduce her into accepting him? How could she know what was truth and what was lies? Surely a demon would lie to get what he wanted. What did Jack Avery want? “A quiet life. A wife. A family. I’m simple, and it doesn’t take much to make me happy.” He moved closer. “I want for the same things others want.” 4

Sable Grey “Except you are a demon,” she whispered. “Demons are the handlers of souls, and that’s all. If there were no demons, the souls would remain trapped in the bodies of the dead. Some collect souls for heaven. Some collect souls for hell. Some do both. It’s not possession and creating havoc.” He took a few more steps in her direction. “I was a man before, different than I am now. I didn’t live well and was gunned down in the street.” “Are you dead? You were sent to hell?” Patricia lifted a hand to her temple as confusion began to throb just behind her eyes. “No, I’m not dead now, but I was. I wasn’t a bad sort, just got off to a bad start and didn’t know how to change my direction. I was given the chance to start over and have a different life, a better life.” He glanced up at the ceiling when rain began to hit the tin roof. “I don’t like storms. Let’s go back to the store.” He stepped aside, waving her toward the door. Cautiously, she took a step forward, but he made no attempt to touch her. Outside, she considered making a run for it. Would he come after her if she did? Where would she go? Who could protect her? Could she be protected against a demon? She watched him step past her and down the alley. A few men leaned against posts outside the saloon farther down the dirt road that ran through town, but most had taken shelter from the storm. She followed Jack, wondering if anyone would have even heard her if she’d screamed for help. She hesitated as he stepped to the door of the storefront. If he’d wanted to hurt her, he could have done it in the storehouse. He’d said the other demon was gone. Uncertain if she believed him, she finally moved forward and past him as he held open the door. Her gaze darted around the goods he sold. Sacks of seed and flour, farming tools and horse harnesses, bolts of cloth and leather for shoemaking, kerosene, and jugs of whiskey and syrup were carefully arranged for display. Patricia’s attention slid to the array of shelves behind the counter that held the spices, tobacco, gunpowder, and the lead. It seemed absurd that a demon would run a general store. It would seem more appropriate if he were a grave digger or coffin maker. “I got in a new shipment of fabrics.” He moved to the small stove in the corner and added a piece of firewood to its belly. “Your father mentioned earlier today that he thought you needed a new dress. There are some samples on the counter there.” Her gaze slanted at the material. She shouldn’t accept anything from a demon. 5

A Demon’s Kiss “The dress you are wearing is made of gingham you bought here. Your shoes I carried out to your father’s wagon last summer. The pins in your hair I counted out myself. If you believe the merchandise damning in some way, your fate is already sealed, and one more dress won’t make a difference.” He walked to the counter and spread out the sample strips of material. “Stop doing that. It’s unnerving. My thoughts are my own,” she snapped. “If you don’t choose one, I’ll send the ugliest back with your father,” he threatened. She pressed her lips together and stepped forward to look down at the material. Perhaps he was telling the truth. Perhaps demons were not as she’d believed. There had been no unexplained deaths in Roscoe, no terrible tragedies that made the town different than other places. Surely if he was that kind of creature, disease and death would be rampant. She reached forward to touch the green print. If demons were not hounds from hell, did that mean a woman could marry a demon and have a normal life? Would their children be demons? Would they too have wings? How could she discipline a child if he just flew away from her? “I think the green print,” she decided and looked up as he nodded and turned, but not before she saw the curl in his lips. Had he be listening to her thoughts again? “I’ll cut a few yards of this and have it ready for your father.” Jack cleared away the samples, then faced her again. “You don’t seem so terrified anymore. That’s good. You’ve no reason to be afraid of me. I’m flesh and bone, skin and blood like everyone else.” “Wings and claws, glowing eyes and...what was that other demon doing?” She remembered the smoke curling up from Jack’s mouth and the other seeming to suck it out of him. “It’s how he receives the souls I’ve collected.” He remained on the other side of the counter but leaned forward on his elbows as she’d seen him do often when talking with customers. “I collect them in a similar fashion. We must take them into our bodies to transport them, especially the kind I collect. The last thing you want is a bunch of hellbound bastards floating around and free.” “Why were you naked?” She was surprised she remembered so much in the few moments she’d seen him. She could bring the image easily to her mind—the line of his body, the cut of the muscles in his stomach, the dark hair around his cock. He cleared his throat, and she 6

Sable Grey blinked from the memory, realizing he knew what she was thinking again. “It’s hard to have an outfit cut to fit around a pair of wings. Easier to do the transporting without clothes.” He ran a hand through his hair and then looked around him before plucking a stick of candy from the jar on the corner of the counter. He held it out to her. She shook her head and watched him pop the end of it in his mouth. “Then you aren’t from hell.” “Never seen it,” he answered around the candy stick. “I hear it’s a mite unpleasant.” Patricia frowned. “Does it hurt? When you collect souls?” “It does. Hurts to carry them around too. I’m always grateful when Alexander comes to take them. I’ve heard it doesn’t feel the same for those collecting the good.” “I meant for the souls.” She’d not considered it might be painful for him. She frowned, unable to imagine how it might feel to have so many inside. “Oh. No. Pain is a physical condition. They’ve no bodies. Dying hurts, but then it’s over fairly quick.” Patricia looked down at the wooden counter. “My head hurts. It doesn’t even seem like reality but rather like a dream, a nightmare.” She glanced around the store. “I wish I didn’t know.” Jack blew out a long breath. “I can make it so you don’t remember. I’d hoped to settle down with someone who would accept it all, but I know it’s confusing. I can make it go away, though.” She looked at him. “How?” “It’s a kiss. A demon’s kiss. It’s how we protect ourselves from detection. I’ve done it before. It’ll make you forget.” She wasn’t sure she believed him. How could she just forget it all? It sounded like a trick. She found herself looking at his mouth. So many times she’d thought of him kissing her. Never would she have imagined that doing so would make her forgetful. Rather, her imagination had been more of tracing his lips with her tongue of feeling them against her skin. He was a demon. Would they feel warmer than other lips? Would his tongue be hot? “Can you fly?” The thought suddenly occurred to her. “It’s how I collect so many. Of course I can only do so at night. Harder to see me in the dark,” he explained. She remembered how large the wings had been. They’d been as black as night. And he’d been naked. She wondered how it felt to fly, 7

A Demon’s Kiss to have no constrictions. Could he carry someone in flight? But that thought caused her stomach to tighten. He would have to be naked. How would it feel, soaring over the clouds, his naked body pressed against hers? Was it possible to make love in the air? A loud pop caused her to blink from her thoughts. He’d bitten the end of the candy stick and now crunched it loudly. “Are you warm enough? Do you want some coffee?” “No coffee.” She was warm enough, almost too warm. She’d let her imagination get carried away, and now her whole body felt flushed. It was absurd. He was a demon. She shouldn’t still feel this way. But now that he’d explained he wasn’t really evil, what he had revealed was darkly exciting. “This kiss that makes a person forget—how do you make them only forget you’re a demon and not other things?” she asked. “It depends on how deeply I kiss the person. They have to want to forget so it opens that part of their memory up. Because I can hear thoughts, I know when that one is gone from the mind. Once it’s gone, the kiss ends.” He walked around the counter and back to the stove, where he added another piece of firewood. Patricia licked her lips. She wasn’t sure she believed him about the kiss. She moved toward him, and when he turned, a look of surprise swept across his face at having her so close to him. She licked her lips again, then leaned up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. Every fantasy she’d ever had about him found her in those few moments against his soft, warm mouth. He tasted like peppermint. As she leaned back, she found him rigid and just staring at her. Perhaps she’d not kissed him long enough. This time she placed her hands on either side of his face and parted her lips over his when she kissed him again. He made a noise that was half growl and half groan, and when he spoke, his words sounded choked. “A demon’s kiss. I have to be in demon form for it to work.” Those words barely registered in Patricia’s brain. Instead she was thinking of how soft his lips really were, of that sweet taste when she licked at them, of his warm breath against her lips. She jerked back from his mouth as realization of what he’d said settled around her thoughts. “Oh!” What was wrong with her? But just telling herself that he was a demon no longer scattered her heated thoughts. Even now, through her shame, she was aware of the pinpricks of sensation that warmed her skin and the ache that knotted in her stomach. 8

Sable Grey He stood rigid, hands opening and closing at his sides as he stared down at her. His jaw clenched slightly as she placed her hand on his chest where she could feel his heart thumping. He was visibly affected by her. And she was most definitely affected by him. “Demons must have some kind of sexual power, because I don’t know what’s come over me.” She dropped her hands to her stomach. “Please tell me you are manipulating me to behave in this manner.” “I’m not doing a damned thing,” he murmured, “yet.” “That means demons do have some kind of power like that?” she asked. “There are a few advantages.” “Like what?” Patricia’s gaze widened as heat wrapped around her, caressing her body. He didn’t touch her at all, but it felt like an embrace, like hands moving across her back and down her stomach. Lower. It dipped between her thighs and pressed against her sex, causing her to gasp. And then the heat was gone. “That’s... Do that again.” This time the heat came at her in a blast. Invisible hands caressed her breasts, brushed across her lips, and pressed against the folds of her cunt. She swayed at the intense sensation of having every part of her touched at once. A finger of fire flicked at her sex while another wrapped around her right nipple. She moaned, and that strand of heat flicked again, then again. “That feels... Oh God.” She very nearly went to her knees when the fire pulsated against her clit. She grasped his arms, and his muscles contracted beneath her palms. She gulped air as the rhythm increased and both nipples were plucked at until they pressed out against the fabric of her dress. And then it was gone again, as quickly as it had found her. When a little whimper escaped her lips, Jack withdrew his energy. He winced when Patricia stared at him with wide eyes. He shouldn’t have done what he did. But when she’d kissed him, a bolt of lightning raced over him. It had taken all he was made of not to grab her. The next best thing was touching her with his energy. He’d not expected her to become accustomed to the idea of his being a demon so quickly. He certainly hadn’t expected her fear to diminish enough for her to kiss him—not once, but twice. And her thoughts had been burning hot. Suddenly she leapt at him, throwing her arms over his shoulders. Her mouth met his in a fever, and instantly his arms wrapped around 9

A Demon’s Kiss her. Damn but she felt good. His arms tightened. Her thoughts enveloped him. She was thinking of him naked and with wings. But her fantasies were wrong. In her mind he was caressing her, kissing her tenderly. But at that moment he wanted to throw her to the floor and ride her as if he were the kind of demon she’d originally thought. “Tricia,” he murmured against her mouth. And then her tongue ran along his bottom lip. His control slipped away, and he parted his lips over hers. He thrust his tongue between her lips, past her teeth, to the velvet warmth of her mouth. Her moan vibrated against his kiss. Tearing his mouth away from hers, he stepped backward abruptly. “What...what’s wrong?” She whispered. Doesn’t he want me? Did I do something wrong? Turning, he strode to the door, where he latched it closed, then pulled the curtains together in the windows to the street. The last thing he wanted was whispers circulating that he defiled Weaver’s daughter, though that was just what he had in mind to do. “Take off your clothes,” he said as he faced her. She flushed, but her spike of excitement charged the room around them. She licked her lips and then slowly lifted her fingers to the button at the collar of her dress. Her hands shook, but she continued and removed the garment. She placed her shoes and undergarments on the counter. His gaze roamed over her ivory curves, lingering on the soft pink coloring of her nipples. The curls at the apex of her thighs were the same shade of blonde as the loose bun she always fashioned. Beautiful. “Let your hair down.” Moments later, that light silk swept down over her shoulders. She clasped her hands in front of her as he finally began undressing. With every sweeping gaze, her thoughts pushed him deeper in desire. He stalked forward, but his energy reached her first, and she sucked air through her teeth as it wrapped around her, exploring every curve of her body. When she was within reach, he reached out for her waist and jerked her to him, body flush against hers. His mouth claimed hers hungrily, and he kissed her deeply. Again the images in her head found him, and his cock jerked at the visions she entertained. Images of them in the air, of him thrusting into her, and thankfully none that had him petting at her like before. But if she wanted the demon, if she accepted him for what he was and did not wish to truly forget, she would become his. His. She began whimpering against his mouth. His energy had pulled her pleasure. She would orgasm. Her body shook, and he held her to 10

Sable Grey him, drinking the cries that tumbled from her lips. His cock pressed against her hip. He wanted her, to feel her around him. Driven by lust, he lifted her and settled her onto the counter. She laughed shakily when he climbed atop her. “Will you...will you become the demon?” she asked as he nudged his cock against her slick cunt. “Do you want me to?” He watched her bite her bottom lip and then nod. “If I do this, Tricia, there is no turning back. If you take me as I am, I’m going to your father tomorrow, and I’ll have you as my wife before the month is up. You must be certain.” “Show me,” she whispered. So be it. Jack closed his eyes and summoned his energy back into his body. He groaned as his wings began to grow from his back, and he gripped either edge of the counter as his talons pushed painfully from beneath his fingernails. It hurt, but it was worth the feeling of freedom that followed. He stretched his wings upward and then opened his eyes to find her gazing up at him. “Your eyes don’t glow.” “They only do so when I’m transporting souls.” He expected her to be afraid, but there was no fear in her. Awe. Excitement. But no fear. Her hand lifted, and he sucked in his breath as her fingertips swept across the feathers of his wings. “You want this?” He had to be sure. She met his gaze and nodded. “Thank God.” He pushed into her with one sharp thrust, breaking the barrier between innocence and rapture. She cried out, and he felt the fleeting pain that momentarily blinded her. He remained still until the pain subsided and she nodded at him again. Drawing back, he groaned as her tight body clenched around him as if resisting his retreat. When he plunged into her again, she arched, lifting her hips to meet his. His body jerked into a rhythm that matched his pounding heart, pumping in and out of her sweet, wet cunt. Her cries lifted, matching the coiling tension that pulled taut inside of him. She reached up for him, grasping his shoulders, her nails biting into him, intensifying his need. She couldn’t know those pinpricks of pain made him want to lose himself inside of her. Shifting his weight to one hand, he grasped her wrists with the other, careful not to scratch her with his talons. He pushed her arms above her head, and her breath hitched. She liked his dominance. Lifting her knees, she brought her legs around him, challenging his control. 11

A Demon’s Kiss “I am trying not to hurt you,” he growled down at her, his hips slapping into hers with every thrust. He leaned forward to lick at her jaw, then her throat. He could feel her arousal radiating out from her in thick, humid waves. He could taste it on her. Her lips found his shoulder. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feathery kisses and soft pull of her lips as she sucked at his skin. And then her teeth grazed his shoulder and bit down slightly. His balls tightened as the streak of hot pleasure tore through him. He gripped the edge of the counter so tight he felt some of the wood give way beneath his strength. “You are determined to do me in,” he accused. She bit again. Harder. His energy blasted into her. It couldn’t be helped. Filled her and pulsated with every beat of her heart. She shook from its intensity, and her voice lifted in rapture as he buried himself deep. Need washed through him like an electric charge. He stretched his wings to full span, released her wrists, and bent forward, his mouth claiming hers. Her body trembled beneath his, and soft moans vibrated against his lips as his energy found hers. Accept me. He knew she heard his silent plea, for she gasped. He pulled at her energy, and her body arched up to his. Her memories flooded him, and he found the one where she’d seen him earlier for the first time. Would she accept him, or would she choose that memory to be pulled from her? Accept me. The moment seemed an eternity of agonizing wait. And then her arms slipped around him, and she kissed him back. Hot white fire engulfed him, followed by dizzying release. His voice lifted and bounced against the walls as his hips jerked, not by will, delivering several strokes before he grew still. In the quiet storefront, the crackle of the fire in the stove, their shallow breaths, and the steady drum of rain on the roof, was the only noise. He looked down at Patricia to find her lids heavy and her head lolled to the side. Carefully he pulled from within her and then frowned as he realized his talons were buried into the wood of the counter. Jerking them free, he scowled at the marks they left as he climbed from atop her and the counter. Still dizzy from his release, he pulled his wings flat against his back so they could become again part of his skin. His talons drew inward, and he winced at the sting. Once returned to the body of a man, he stepped to Patricia’s side. “Are you okay?” He waited, but she only hummed softly. “Tricia, are you hurt?” She opened her eyes to look at him and then licked her lips. 12

Sable Grey “Am I naked?” Fuck. He bowed his head. He’d wanted her. But she’d chosen differently, and he would have to give her up. He ran a hand through his hair. Her soft giggle brought his attention back to her face, and she found her green eyes dancing. “I knew that demon kiss thing was a lie.” He blew out a breath and grasped her arms, pulling her up to sitting position on the counter. “I could strangle you, woman.” He lowered her down to her feet and then pulled her into embrace. “Here I was thinking on how I would explain to you why we were naked.” She giggled again, resting her cheek against his shoulder. “I heard you...in my head,” she said after a moment. “You were pleading for me to love you.” “I asked for your acceptance,” he argued. “No, you begged me to give you my heart. I heard you clearly.” She looked up at him. “And then it felt as if the whole world became the sweetest pleasure imaginable. There are no words...” “I felt that too, but demons don’t beg.” At that moment, however, he did feel emotion in his chest. Deep emotion that he’d not expected. It was love, and he would do anything, even beg, to keep it. She was his. And he knew then that he was hers.

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Biography Sable Grey resides in the Deep South of the United States with her wonderful husband, three spoiled dogs, and three crazy cats. She spends her time researching her genealogy, designing cover art, watching movies, and reading. With favorite authors like Stephen King, Piers Anthony, and Iris Johansen, it’s no mystery where the inspiration to write tales of love, adventure, and mystery come from. An avid reader and storyteller at a young age, Sable began writing short stories for her mother as a child. However, it wasn’t until she was well into her twenties that she realized that her calling was sharing her stories with an audience larger than just family members and friends. Now Sable is dedicated to her craft and to bringing her readers quality fiction with unforgettable characters. For her, writing a story means to touching the mind, body, heart, and soul. Sable Grey loves to hear from readers. You can email her at: [email protected] or visit her website at: http://www.sablegrey.net.

Other Books by Sable Grey

Passion of the Wolf Healing the Beast Scattered: Her Laird, Her Lover A Demons Kiss