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In Like Lion, Out Like a Lamb

His Fiercest or Gentlest Moment

Coming Monday March 1, 2010

Most Romantic First Kiss Paranormal

Most Romantic First Kiss Paranormal - Which of these stories wins you over as a reader in this round of the Stories Stripped Published Author Contest?

THE WINNER IS BLACK -  

Somewhere My Love By Beth Trissel

RED
Granite Kiss
by Jennifer Cole

from  Liquid Silver Books Buy it HERE

Blue
Carolina Wolf
By Sela Carsen
http://selacarsen.com/
From Samhain Publishing  Buy the Book HERE

GREEN
 A Ghost of a Chance,
Legends Book 2
by Carolan Ivey 

http://www.carolanivey.com

Samhain Publishing - Buy Here

BLACK WINNER
Somewhere My Love
By Beth Trissel
http://www.bethtrissel.com/
from The Wild Rose Press - Buy this Book 

#1 - Red

Granite Kiss
by Jennifer Cole

from  Liquid Silver Books Buy it HERE

 

“A spell was cast, there is always a way to break it.” Elena stood beside the sofa and pressed her fingers to her temples.

A challenge always got her blood flowing. Elena loved to solve a mystery. Why could she not concentrate on fitting the pieces of this puzzle together?

The reason for her distraction sat on the sofa, eyeing her as if she were a tasty little morsel he was dying to sample. Any doubts she had about Zander’s interest dissipated at an alarming speed.

No longer could she stand it. The differences between their physical forms meant nothing to her in the grand scheme of things. Elena could no longer fight the attraction, and damn it, she knew Zander felt it as well. She could see it in his eyes when he looked at her; felt it in the weight of his stare as he watched her. More importantly, she felt his need when he held her in his arms. His touch was electric.

Elena wanted more. No, she needed more.

“Oh the gods, this is ridiculous,” Elena said, and leapt through the air, landing on top of Zander.

*

The suddenness of Elena’s acrobatics threw Zander off guard, causing him to lean back into the sofa.

“What are you--” His question was cut short as Elena brushed her soft lips against his.

The room fell silent. After several moments, she pulled away from him, waggled her brow and dragged her tongue across her lower lip.

“Uh,” he managed on a hoarse exhale. “That was... nice.”

“Nice?” she repeated, narrowing her eyes.

“Well, uh, the others are--you know--here. Watching,” he said in a soft voice, trying not to attract any more attention to them. Which he knew was futile, since Elena sat sprawled on top of him, and he was panting like a dog in heat.

Elena’s heated gaze held his, and over her shoulder she growled, “Leave.”

From the corner of his eye, Zander watched his five fellow beasts stumble over one another as they raced to the open terrace door.

“See ya,” Adan said quickly.

“I was just thinking I could use some air,” Henrik announced, pushing past Mabon.

“Where are we going to go?” Kenyon muttered.

“Stop talking and just get the hell out,” Magnus said nervously, glancing back for a split second.

The loud flapping of wings carried into the suite, signaling the beasts had launched off the building.

Leaning down Elena again pressed her lips to his again.

They were just as Zander imagined, soft, confident. Elena was a woman who knew what she wanted. And by the gods, she wanted him. The taste of her made his head spin.

He needed to stop her.

The tip of her tongue teased along the seam of his lips, coaxing him to open his mouth. As he did, to utter a protest--a mild one mind you, but a protest nonetheless--Elena seized the opportunity to slip inside.

The slide of her tongue alongside his made Zander’s breath hitch. Wide eyed he watched her. Elena’s eyes were closed, lids fluttering as her excitement escalated. The subtle fragrance of feminine arousal tickled him under the nose. He inhaled deeply, her natural pheromones taunting his lust as he allowed her to control their kiss.

A moan of passion caught in her throat and her arms tightened around his neck, her fingers fisting in his dark hair.

Closing his eyes, Zander allowed himself to savor the moment. The repressed libido he had buried years ago began to emerge. With need, his hands stroked down the length of her back, over the luscious curves of Elena’s hips, to then cup and squeeze her buttocks.

If this were to be his last moment on earth, Zander would die a happy man, or rather beast. With the days of living as a man long gone, he never imagined once again living in human form. Yet right then, with Elena straddling his thighs, his body aching to be one with hers, Zander wanted nothing more than to be a man.

Just once, he began to think, and felt the instant void as Elena pulled away from his mouth.

“Do you feel it?” Her breath was harsh, her voice husky.

“W--what?” he stuttered, attempting to tamp the hoarseness of his own voice.

“The sparks. The electricity.” She paused to run the wet tip of her delicious tongue over her swollen lips. “We have chemistry.”

#2 - Blue

Carolina Wolf
By Sela Carsen
http://selacarsen.com/
From Samhain Publishing  Buy the Book HERE



Maddox caught himself against a wall, leaving a smear of blood behind.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I need a shower.”

“You need a doctor,” she answered. “And you’re freezing. Why are you so cold?”

“No doctors,” he said, ignoring the second part of her question. “I’ll heal by morning.”

Debra bent and gathered the blanket, pulling it up around his body. She stared at his chest the whole time over the tops of her glasses. 

He would have chuckled, but it hurt too much to be amused. That clever, subtle avoidance maneuver probably fooled most people.

She took up her position under his shoulder and led him through her bedroom into the master bath. The lights were off, but he saw clearly enough to make out the light cotton blanket, the rumpled pillows, the stacks of books on and around her nightstand.

The bathroom was clean, but cluttered with female paraphernalia—makeup, mirrors, creams and combs. The smells should have been overwhelming, but they were only a stronger, colder version of her. It wasn’t until they combined with the essence of Debra that they became enchanting.

Debra, Debra. Pretty, bewitching Debra.

He didn’t realize he’d said it out loud until he opened his eyes and she was staring at him.

“Do you need something?”

“What?”

“You said my name. Do you need me?”

Wrong question. The shower was running, heating the water and steaming the air around them, cushioning his senses until all he could breathe was her.

The silver was sapping his strength, stealing the warmth from his blood. The danger of silver was not only the damage of the wound itself, it also tainted the blood, draining the heat out of their bodies. Silver-killed werewolves froze from the inside out.

He lurched to his feet from his seat on the toilet lid. She had an enclosed shower big enough for two people with glass sliding doors—no tub to step over—and he stumbled inside, hissing as the water stung his skin with hot needles. The blanket fell again, this time with a wet plop. She reached in to get it out of his way, but he snagged her arm and pulled her all the way into the shower with him.

He needed her. To hold him, to help him, to be with him, to fill him.

She squealed when the water hit her full in the face, but he slid the shower door shut. Maddox pulled her closer and brushed the wet hair out of her eyes.

She spluttered, but her words weren’t important. Nothing was important but his need. The moment her soaked clothes touched his skin, the cold went away. As long as she touched him, he knew he’d survive.

“Maddox, you’re sick. You need a doctor.”

“No. Need you. Just you.” And he kissed her.

God. She tasted even better than she smelled—purer, simpler, richer, more complex. He could willingly spend decades sifting out the different flavors of Debra. She stood stiffly in his arms and he didn’t know what to do about it, didn’t know how to help her. Didn’t know how to tell her what he needed from her now.

Maddox raised his mouth from hers and stared down into her face, water dripping from her eyelashes, running in streams down her cheeks, dangling at her chin before falling into oblivion.

“Please, Debra. Help me.” He’d never begged before. Never needed to before, but he was sick and hurt and if she didn’t help him now… 

He couldn’t even finish the thought. She had to help him, even if she didn’t know how.

He bent to her face again, but not to kiss her. Not right away. Drops of water slid over her skin as though they had the right. His tongue caught one beside her lips, and the taste of his mate exploded on his tongue, made him greedy for more. More drops enticed him and he lapped at her mouth, pulling her closer when she finally opened to him, letting him into her body. Accepting him. Trusting him.

There it was. As if a door opened and she invited him in, Maddox let his mind touch hers, its light sharp and pure and blinding.

He was stunned. Humans usually didn’t have enough of a soul-light to heal themselves, much less anyone else. But there was brilliance enough here for magic like he’d never seen. And this part of her was untouched. She’d never let anyone into her heart before. It was all for him. He was too grateful to be greedy, so he simply basked in the glow, letting it flow into him, fill him until there was no room left for the poison.

In his weakness, her hands caressed and held him as tenderly as a healer, a mother, a lover. A woman. His woman. As the light overflowed him, he left her mind and came back to his.

His senses were clearing, the toxic metal leaving his body. Maddox looked over at his shoulder and watched the sluggish trail of tainted blood seep down his arm and drip to the floor, swirl into the drain. The last atom of silver left his body and he heaved a great draft of steamy air, finally warm all the way through.

“Thank you for healing me.” Then the weakness took him.

#3 - Green

A Ghost of a Chance,
Legends Book 2
by Carolan Ivey 

http://www.carolanivey.com

Samhain Publishing - Buy Here

 
Troy had never stayed in a materialized state for this long. The strain tore at him, threatened to separate the layers of his energy field and send them flying off into space like water rings from a dropped stone.

It had taken every atom of his strength to make the three-thousand-mile spatial jump, on top of staying solid long enough to rescue the woman from the flooded cave. He’d intended to bring her all the way to the top of the cliff, leave her there to be found and be on his way about finding John.

But the effort had cost him.

Troy glanced down at the face of the woman in his arms, grit his teeth and held on.

If he lost control of his energy and faltered, she would die.

His superb sense of balance, an asset in life and still now in the afterlife, didn’t fail him as he crouched on the narrow rock ledge, braced so the woman’s body wouldn’t slide off into the roiling sea. Rain slapped them from above, and the wind and waves clawed at them from everywhere else.

 Risking precious balance, he used one hand to gently unwind her long, matted black hair from around his arm and away from her face. Her lips were blue and slack, her eyes partially open and dull. 

He lowered his face to hers, checking for breath. Nothing. He let her head roll to one side and slid his fingers to the pulse point on her neck. If any life throbbed there, he couldn’t feel it for the vibrations of wind and storm.

“Oh, no you don’t. Don’t do this to me, lady…” He tilted her head back and covered her mouth with his.

He blew once, then swayed, dizzy, feeling his grip on his materialized state slipping dangerously with the extra effort it took to breathe for her. He clenched his jaw, tilted his head back and growled deep in his chest, willing his form to stay together, just a little longer. Just until help arrived. He’d seen two people poke their heads over the cliff edge above them, so he knew it wouldn’t be long.

“Not yet,” he muttered, using the vibration of his voice to send binding messages throughout his energy field, reminding it that no matter what the laws of physics said, he was in charge here. Never mind the fact that before now he’d only managed to stay solid for a few minutes at a time, and only in dire emergencies. The last time he’d done it was for the lives of his sister and Beaudry, and for his effort he’d earned a bullet in his shoulder to keep company with the gaping hole he carried around in his chest.

He lowered his mouth and breathed for her again, turning his head to feel her automatic exhale, this time accompanied by a gush of water.

Yes! Another breath into her lungs. Were her lips slightly warmer? 

He left his own there for a second or two longer than necessary, testing. A faint green color flickered in front of his eyes, like the brief flash of a hummingbird, there and gone. He tore his mouth away from hers and looked up to see what kind of strange lightning this could be, then he ducked and pressed her body tightly to his as a heavy wave broke over them. The water lifted them both off the ledge, and only by sheer will did he manage to bring them back onto the ledge safely. How much higher was the tide going to rise?

He shook water from his face, pressed the woman’s body firmly between himself and the cliff wall and bent his head to hers once again. She had to start breathing on her own soon. He couldn’t keep this up.

A movement off to his right snagged his attention. A glowing figure, winged and silent, stood on a nearby ledge, observing, not moving. 

Her guardian angel, clearly. He spared the being a two-second glare, then lost patience.

“Hey! Aren’t you going to do anything?”

The guardian’s expression grew thoughtful, then regretful. But it didn’t move, either to help or to hinder.

“Thanks a bunch.” Troy turned back to the task at hand.

Breeeeeeathe…

Without thinking what he was doing, he willed life into her. Closed his eyes and focused his energy inside her body, targeting her lungs, her barely fluttering heart.

This time, he felt her jaw move under his mouth, and her body flex in his arms. The weird, pale green lightning flickered around them again. Her first strong heartbeat resounded like a bell throughout his being, her first voluntary breath sucking in what he’d given her.

Then, before he could lift his mouth from hers, she breathed into him.

Troy nearly lost his balance, and flung out one arm to find a fingertip hold on the rock. Her breath filled his mouth, his chest, and even with his eyes closed he saw the faint green flickers of light strengthen, steady, intensify into a solid glow more brilliant than any Ireland had to offer on its best day. Heat rushed through him, and it took him a moment to register the fact that he felt it at all. As a ghost, normal physical sensations were foreign to him. Now every drop of rain hitting his skin felt like a needle. And his wounds, normally painless, now screamed at him.

He tore his mouth away and stared down at her. Her eyelids trembled, opened, light grey irises expanding as her pupils focused on his face. The same fiery emerald light that flashed round them burned in their depths. Even with their mouths now separated, her strengthening heartbeat rushed around him as if he were a child enveloped in her womb.

What the hell is happening to me?

If he was anywhere else but perched on a narrow ledge, an inch from losing her to the maw of the sea, he would have done a quick about-face and put as much space and time between them as possible. But stay he did, her life force growing stronger and flowing like a river under his hands, into him, through him and back to her. She seemed to be studying him, her mouth moving slightly as if trying to form words. But if she made any sound, it was swallowed by sea and storm. Then her eyes slid closed and her head rolled to nestle against his chest, fitting perfectly under his chin.

He swallowed, trying not to take in any more of the living energy that still enveloped them both. Something about it was as seductive as it was disturbing, and all his instincts screamed to get outside it and look at it from an objective distance before deciding what to do about it, if anything at all.

He took her cold hands, intending to tuck them inside her coat, when he caught sight of the diamond sparkling on her left ring finger.

She belongs to someone. Absurdly, the thought felt like a sucker punch to his gut.

He looked up, and finally, finally, he saw two people rappelling down the cliff, red-and-black jumpsuits making ripping sounds in the wind. A metal litter dangling between them.

“Take her first,” he yelled above the crashing tide as the rescuers reached them. Their reply was lost in the noise, but they quickly assessed the situation and expertly relieved him of his burden.

The instant her body separated from his, he felt himself dissolving, the last of his strength leaving as the green light faded. One of the rescuers cried out in alarm, but could do nothing as his grip on the rock slipped, and the icy grey sea closed over his head.

#4 - Black - WINNER

MOST ROMANTIC FIRST KISS WINNER!

Somewhere My Love
By Beth Trissel
http://www.bethtrissel.com/
from The Wild Rose Press - Buy this Book 


Will blew the layer of dust from an ornate wooden box inlaid with ivory and lifted the lid. Inside were brass workings like the mechanism of a clock. He wound a small gold key in the back until it would wind no more, and released it. The wheels and cogs turned and wonderful music flowed forth, the beautiful strains of a Viennese waltz, The Blue Danube.

Julia clapped her hands. “A music box.”

He bowed. “May I have this dance, sweet Julia?”

She gazed up into his velvet brown eyes, and he gazed back. She managed a nod and he drew her into his arms. Around the attic he waltzed with her secure in his lead. Everything fell away except this moment while the haunting melody played on, taking her back to that faintly remembered place. She didn’t even stumble, not once. It was as if some inner memory guided her in the steps, even though ballroom dancing hadn’t been a part of her lessons.

The music picked up and he swung her around and around. Her dress swirled as he circled. With each turn, he was Will—then Cole, Will—then Cole, both men in rapid succession, separate and yet the same. Her heart pounded from far more than the whirling dance.

The music faded and Will slowly stopped revolving. They stood, his arms circled at her back and waist, eyes locked on each other.

His brow furrowed. “Julia, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. “You may be the ghost.”

He tightened his mouth in an impatient line. “Don’t try to make me into Cole again.”

“Will, listen to me. I know it sounds crazy, but I think somehow you already are.”

He dropped his hands, turning away. “Only because you insist I am.”

She grabbed his arm. “No. It’s what I saw while we danced. You must believe me.”

“Believing doesn’t make it any easier,” he said flatly.

“That’s because you think I’m misled.”

He swiveled his head at her. Exasperation flared in his eyes. “There’s a simple reason for my laboring under that assumption. You are.”

“Don’t be angry. I hate that I’ve spoiled such a lovely moment.”

“You’ve a talent for that.” He turned and strode across the floor. His footsteps echoed on the boards with a hollow sound, just as her heart would beat if he left.

She ran behind him and reached out, catching his plush shoulder. “Consider me balmy, if you must, but don’t walk away. Please Will.”

He stayed as he was. “What do you want me to do, Julia?”

“I don’t know.” She wasn’t strong enough to turn him and dashed in front instead, grasping his upper arms and twisting the fabric in her fingers. “Something—anything.”

He smiled faintly. “Never say those words to a man.”

Cupping her face between his hands, he bent his head and closed his lips over hers in an all consuming kiss...so swiftly she hardly knew what had happened. Even if he hadn’t cupped her cheeks, she wouldn’t have moved. The compelling press of his mouth bound her in place.

If possible, Julia’s heart thudded even faster than it had before. The surging pulse drummedthrough her entire being, reverberating in places she didn’t even know she had. From what she could remember of her dream with Cole, her feelings had been poignant but tender. The sensations coursing through her now weren’t entirely that. An exhilarating passion was sweeping her up in a shocking tide.

“Who am I now?” Will whispered against her mouth.

She loosened her grip on his jacket in speechless surprise, too breathless to tell him she didn’t care.

Stories Stripped - Best First Kiss - Historical

Most Romantic First Kiss

Historical

And the Winner is RED!
The Geis:  The Magic Stone
by Marie Sterbenz
Wild Horse Press

 RED

The Geis:  The Magic Stone

by Marie Sterbenz

Wild Horse Press 
http://www.mariesterbenz.com/

Black Horse  

by Veronica Blake

Dorchester Publishing
Find Out More Here

BLACK

Shadowed Knight,

by Jan Alyce Avery

Samhain Publishing
 http://www.janalyceavery.com/

GREEN
SINS OF THE HEART
by Delle Jacobs
published by Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
http://samhainpublishing.com/print/sins-of-the-heart-print Author website is http://dellejacobs.com






 

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Nothing to Commend Her 

by Jo Barrett 

from The Wild Rose Press

The Earl of Pensby lost his wife in a fire, one that left him scarred in more ways than one. He’s surly, brooding, and according to half the ton, a monster. Except to Agatha Trumwell, she sees so much more than his scars. But with a pitiful dowry, unfavorable looks, and a tendency to speak her mind, she has nothing to commend her, or so she believes. Can these two lonely souls find love amid the gossiping beau monde while someone plots to tear their fragile world apart?

Visit The Wild Rose Press to Learn More

Excerpt

“I—am—leaving!”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Magnus growled, as he turned, the scarred side of his face a pale contrast to the angry red flush of his skin.  

But Agatha refused to be bullied.  “It is apparent that you’ve no need of a companion, since we speak hardly a word during meals, nor do we engage in any semblance of a conversation afterward,” she said, her breathing quickened by her fury.  “And you’ve made it painfully obvious you don’t want me in your bed!”

 She threw the shawl into her trunk and slammed the lid.  “You couldn’t even bring yourself to kiss me on our wedding day.  Well, your mistress, or whoever this demon stalking me is, can bloody well have you!”

In two strides, he was in front of her, gripping her arms with such strength, a spark of fear gripped her as strongly as he did.  Would he harm her, beat her?

Then she looked into his turbulent gray eyes.  No, he was furious, but there was something else, something deeper, something that told her he would never raise his hand against her.

“There is no mistress,” he snarled.

Odd that she believed him, but she would not remain where she was of no use, where she wasn’t wanted.

“And I was pushed,” she ground out.

“Then I’ll assign you a bloody guard, but you are not leaving,” he demanded with a vigorous shake.  “Do you hear me?”

She couldn’t utter a word amid the chaotic emotions flashing across his face and in his eyes.

“You cannot leave me,” he said, his words broken and pain-filled.  Then his lips crashed into hers. 

 Visit Jo Barrett's Site to learn more about her books - http://www.jobarrett.net/