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Category: Erotica/Paranormal Erotica
Description: Kamillia is an author of paranormal romances living in an upscale suburb of Cleveland, Ohio. Accused of being an actual witch herself by an ambitious group of businessmen with a dark agenda, she is surprised to find a man who resembles one of her fictional, alpha male heroes at her door offering her protection. Luca is an immortal Watcher from the River of Light. Sent to Earth to help Kamillia, whose true heritage has yet to be revealed to her, Luca is caught off guard by the fighting spirit of the woman and the way his human body betrays him in her presence. When research for her next novel requires Kamillia to travel to Italy, she and Luca are forced to join together despite numerous obstacles to overcome the evil of many centuries blocking a portal there. Only then, can she return to the problems awaiting her in her own city, with or without this stranger who has captured her heart but cannot share her future.
eBook Publisher: Excessica Publishing,
eBookwise Release Date: October 2009

5 Reader Ratings:

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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [179 KB]
Words: 40447
Reading time: 115-161 min.

The man is made of stone. Poppie should have taken the time to warn me that an about six foot tall Adonis would be knocking at my door. She had expected her hands to start sweating when she opened it, but instead she found moisture forming elsewhere. What is up with me? It is like I have never seen a man before! Why did I touch him? She chided herself while breathing in the musky scent of him. Her attempt at directing him to the couch had not even made him sway. Dumbstruck, her hand still curved around barely half of the man's bicep. Smart-girls keep their distance from these good-looking, conceited body-guard types.

"No, we do not have that kind of time. The Mastema will be here soon. I have to get you to safety."

"The who? Boy, and I thought all my life I was the only one with a weird name around here."

"The group of men who have been accusing you of being a witch, they secretly call themselves the Mastema. It means leader of the fallen angels, the one's who tempt men to sin."

"You are talking about the short-sighted idiots in the neighborhood who accused me of being a witch because I am a fantasy author? The Mastema are those nerds in ties that suffer from delusions of grandeur?" She paused to let out the laugh that had been tickling her throat as she had spoken. The more she learned of these men, who thought they could rule the world because they owned small businesses of their own, the more ridiculous they seemed to be. "Of course they have a secret, stupid name for themselves, but I don't think they are out to hurt me. They are merely some control freaks who mentally-abuse their wives, their employees and everyone else they come in contact with because they do not know any other way to act given they consider themselves to be gifts from the gods to humanity. I only posed a threat, because they worried I might teach their wives to be strong and think for themselves. I will not let them intimidate me. Their wives are stronger than they know, and I can't wait for the day when they fall on their asses! And, although I will sadly not have had a single thing to do with it, I am sure I will take the blame. I mean witches get blamed for everything, right?"

"Enough." She jumped at the deep, harsh tone in his voice berating her without the need for volume. Calm much? What's with the rush, buddy? Or, maybe he was just tired of me rattling on like some nervous teenager in front of a rock star. You have got to get a grip, Kam! No more embarrassing yourself tonight. If you are going to be stuck with the guy for a few more hours, it would be nice if he thought you had a scruple or two in your head! And, stop staring at the way the guitar on his t-shirt waves over his six-pack abs.

"Sorry! You don't have to get so upset about it."

"Obviously, your grandfather or Poppie didn't tell you enough."

"You mean about these men? He has warned me before about becoming friends with their wives, but he has lived in this town all of his long life. He tends to make more out of things than they are. So, these men called me a few names and sent a few emails and texts to warn the people I was a dangerous witch." She felt silly once she caught herself wiggling her fingers in the air like she was casting some spell. She abruptly lowered her hands, and the tone of her voice to continue. "All that has happened so far, is I have made a few of the teenage cashiers at the grocery store nervous or stupidly curious. I mean who could tell these days? I really don't mind playing the part. I have a great imagination. And, I was quite impressed they would go so far as to make a ritual circle in my back yard. Especially, since I hate to garden, it is nice to have something going on back there."

"There is a lot you don't know yet. These men hate you more than you know, for more reasons than they are letting on. Their wives have no idea what they are capable of, and their coming after you has nothing to do with them despite what the women have told you. The Mastema, the group to which they ascribe, is ancient. It has been around for years. They are a secret cult, who has remained secret over the years because they eliminate anyone who tries to expose them."

"Well, until you, I knew nothing about their cult. I still don't see why I could not drive myself to Poppie's." She had accented her grandfather's name just to be glib. "Guess he was afraid I would not come in a timely fashion. How do you know him, by the way?"

"I can feel them getting closer; the negative vibrations have been increasing all day with their mindset and activities, so to speak. They have hired men to throw bombs into the house. The witch hunt was their way of taking the blame off themselves when someone got fanatical enough on their own to kill you out of fear. Only, they hired the hit man personally, paying for his silence as well. Now, you have five minutes to gather what you deem important, and then we leave the rest."

"Are you..."

"Now, please." The last of his request had been hissed through clenched teeth. "You told your grandfather you would listen to me. I have a car parked out front waiting. We can talk more when we get there."

Old Poppie is going to have some explaining to do setting me up to promise to be guarded by Mister Bossy here. As she stomped away from the man in her living room, she tried not to think of how the Adonis turned warrior prince turned her on. He was seriously like one of the fictional alpha males she created in her novels. As she started throwing her laptop and memory sticks and stuff for her work into a case, all she could think about was living out the fantasy.