Naked on the Staircase — Skhye Moncrief
Genre: paranormal/fantasy romance
Heat Level: spicy
Length: novel (51,000 words if released in print)
Blurb:
A Time Guardian Halloween Tale...
A demon stalks Druidess Aron MacKintosh, trying to use her to gain control of the timeline in present-day Scotland. Time plows toward Samhain when the doorways open between the Now and the Happy Otherworld. She finds herself in a strange alliance with an unusual Time Guardian, Cowboy. The duo struggles to defeat the demon. If Cowboy can't earn her trust, the integrity of the timeline could be endangered. Only Cowboy's charm and southern idea of chivalry has what it takes to leave an ancient evil bound NAKED ON THE STAIRCASE.
Heat Level: spicy
Length: novel (51,000 words if released in print)
Blurb:
A Time Guardian Halloween Tale...
A demon stalks Druidess Aron MacKintosh, trying to use her to gain control of the timeline in present-day Scotland. Time plows toward Samhain when the doorways open between the Now and the Happy Otherworld. She finds herself in a strange alliance with an unusual Time Guardian, Cowboy. The duo struggles to defeat the demon. If Cowboy can't earn her trust, the integrity of the timeline could be endangered. Only Cowboy's charm and southern idea of chivalry has what it takes to leave an ancient evil bound NAKED ON THE STAIRCASE.
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Series: Can be read in ANY order...ALL 99 cents each!
Book 1: SACRIFICIAL HEARTS (novella)--A Time-Guardian Valentines tale
Book 2: SWORDSONG (novel)--He's arrived to help her create the perfect bride.
Book 3: HE OF THE FIERY SWORD (novel)--Once upon a time, King Arthur was a time-traveling shape-shifting dragon...
Book 4: NAKED ON THE STAIRCASE (novel)
Book 5: FORBIDDEN ETERNITY (novel; currently being revised)
Book 6: THE SPELL OF THE KILLING MOON (novella)--One must die so the other can live.
Book 7: HEAVENLY HIGHLANDS (novel; currently being revised)
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Excerpt:
What am I to believe? Can I trust him? I must. I have no choice with the dullards running willy nilly about the castle entrance in search of us. Aye. I will buy into this story of his for the time being. The action will at least win me escape from this place. And Time will reveal if he's my guardian or in cahoots with The Master.
He suddenly sat, untied his boots, and tugged the pants off. "You want them, honey, you've got them."
Dear Gods! He's really giving me his pants. Too.
He tossed the camouflage pants.
The soft fabric hit my knees.
Pants. I can cover up everything.
He thrust a socked foot back into one of his boots and tugged on a long black shoelace.
If the twinkle in his blue eyes was anything but feigned amusement, I'd have flayed him with
his pants. It's as if he wanted me to bend over. Cast him a fine show of parts no man would be seeing again anytime soon. But there's no time for tirades. He'd handed over. A lass would be a dolt for wasting an opportunity to clothe herself and escape whomever required escaping. I thrust both legs into the warm pants' legs and drew the soft fabric up to my hips where I sat.
Concealed. Aye. At long last. Naught was like wearing clothing.
His interested gaze monitored my every move.
The pig. "Turn around," I growled.
He rose, planted his hands on his hips, turned the twitching muscles of his broad back to me, and sighed, loudly.
As if he couldn't believe I snarled after he gave me his pants. I shot to my feet, fingers fumbling for the buttons to secure the baggy pants around my waist, all the while studying the bulges around his wide shoulders.
The muscled man looked quite silly in knee-high sweat socks, combat boots, and white boxers.
"Have you finished, honey?" he droned.
Not with his attitude. He needed a lesson in manners. "Give me your under shorts."
He whirled, eyes half shuttered, and took a step toward me. The air grew tight, pressing against my body, sucking the sweet breath of victory from my lungs. His blue gaze dropped down to within two inches of mine.
Gods, he's glorious. All muscle and sinew. Powerful. Deadly.
A warm almost tingly sensation shimmied through me.
Who is he? Really? Friend or foe?
Morganna save me from his seriously severe focus. And the three freckles on his nose. Three's a lucky number, Universe. Luck born out of grave conditions. Maybe I'm wrong to be cautious about him. Maybe I should trust him.
"You get the shorts, honey, and you get everything else. Comprendes?" he snarled his warning.
So much for three.
He suddenly sat, untied his boots, and tugged the pants off. "You want them, honey, you've got them."
Dear Gods! He's really giving me his pants. Too.
He tossed the camouflage pants.
The soft fabric hit my knees.
Pants. I can cover up everything.
He thrust a socked foot back into one of his boots and tugged on a long black shoelace.
If the twinkle in his blue eyes was anything but feigned amusement, I'd have flayed him with
his pants. It's as if he wanted me to bend over. Cast him a fine show of parts no man would be seeing again anytime soon. But there's no time for tirades. He'd handed over. A lass would be a dolt for wasting an opportunity to clothe herself and escape whomever required escaping. I thrust both legs into the warm pants' legs and drew the soft fabric up to my hips where I sat.
Concealed. Aye. At long last. Naught was like wearing clothing.
His interested gaze monitored my every move.
The pig. "Turn around," I growled.
He rose, planted his hands on his hips, turned the twitching muscles of his broad back to me, and sighed, loudly.
As if he couldn't believe I snarled after he gave me his pants. I shot to my feet, fingers fumbling for the buttons to secure the baggy pants around my waist, all the while studying the bulges around his wide shoulders.
The muscled man looked quite silly in knee-high sweat socks, combat boots, and white boxers.
"Have you finished, honey?" he droned.
Not with his attitude. He needed a lesson in manners. "Give me your under shorts."
He whirled, eyes half shuttered, and took a step toward me. The air grew tight, pressing against my body, sucking the sweet breath of victory from my lungs. His blue gaze dropped down to within two inches of mine.
Gods, he's glorious. All muscle and sinew. Powerful. Deadly.
A warm almost tingly sensation shimmied through me.
Who is he? Really? Friend or foe?
Morganna save me from his seriously severe focus. And the three freckles on his nose. Three's a lucky number, Universe. Luck born out of grave conditions. Maybe I'm wrong to be cautious about him. Maybe I should trust him.
"You get the shorts, honey, and you get everything else. Comprendes?" he snarled his warning.
So much for three.
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EDITIONS
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- Aug-2012
- Skhye Moncrief
- eBook
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- Aug-2012
- Skhye Moncrief
- eBook (Kindle)