Beat of Temptation Scene 1| Beat of Temptation Scene 2 | The Shower| Miss Leozandra's The Party | Kiss of Snow Scene 1 | Kiss of Snow Scene 2 | Kiss of Snow Scene 3 | Kiss of Snow Scene 4 | Kiss of Snow Scene 5 | Kiss of Snow Scene 6 | Kiss of Snow Scene 7
Below are two deleted scenes from Beat of Temptation, my contribution to the An Enchanted Season anthology.
Scene 1 was supposed to be a prologue, while scene 2 was originally part of the ending.
Scene 1 didn't make it into the novella because I decided that with the shorter wordcount, we needed to jump straight into Nate and Tammy's story, rather than going from the present, to the past. Plus, I was indulging myself with the other characters and with a novella, you need a much tighter focus.
Scene 2 didn't make it in because the information--that the pack cared enough to intervene--had already been given. It's a fun little bit though, so enjoy! Times two!
"The Psy who Stole Christmas," Sascha read out the title, a frown creasing her forehead. "I'm not sure I'm going to like this book."
Tamsyn laughed. "Oh dear, it's probably not very friendly to leave that lying around now that I have Psy packmates."
Faith took the book from Sascha and read the back. "The terrifying, scarifying, mystifying true story of how Christmas was almost outlawed."
"You're not offended are you?" Tamsyn suddenly realized how bad the book might look to her friends. "It's just a fun book. The kids like the rhymes. I'd never--"
"We're not offended." Sascha sneaked a bite of chocolate from the pieces Tamsyn had cut for the cookies. "It simply relates a factual event in a way small children can understand."
"Yes." Faith opened the book to the first page. "I believe the newly powerful Psy Council was trying out its new wings during that time period. This was not one of their success stories."
Tamsyn laughed, glad for Sascha and Faith's imminently logical outlook on life. "No, I'd say not. I don't think they've been defeated like that ever again."
Sascha nibbled on another piece of chocolate as she picked up a beautiful ornament from the box on the table. "Isn't it a bit early for Christmas decorations?"
"It's a family thing." Tamsyn felt her heart catch at the memory. "A tradition you could say."
Faith's eyes lingered on the hand-painted ball in Sascha's hand. "I see the future, but I think it would be nice to have a past full of enough joy that you celebrate it."
Tamsyn smiled at the foreseer. "I'm sure you're making some great memories with Vaughn."
"Yes." Her eyes softened. "He carved a sculpture of me."
"Can we see it?" Sascha asked.
Faith shook her head. "No, I don't think so. He's quite possessive about it."
"Just like he is with you." Seeing movement out of the corner of her eye, Tamsyn grabbed the chocolate bowl before Sascha could demolish it. "How much chocolate do you go through in a week anyway?"
Sascha's night-sky eyes, pinpricks of white on black velvet, crinkled at the corners as she winced. "I think we should change the subject. Let's talk more about Faith and Vaughn."
Lucas stuck his head around the corner from the living room. "She ate an entire bar after dinner last night. Good thing I make sure she gets regular exercise." He ducked back out before the apple Sascha had thrown at him reached the door, his sensual grin leaving no doubt as to what kind of 'exercise' the two had been indulging in.
"I swear I'm going to--" Sascha kept the apple in the air using telekinesis and brought it back to the bowl. "He bought me that damn chocolate bar."
Tamsyn bit her lower lip to stop from laughing at Sascha's blush. "Of course he did. He adores you."
"And I foresee many more chocolate bars in your future."
Tamsyn and Sascha both looked at Faith. The F-Psy was gifted with the ability to see the future and when she said something like that, it was usually correct to give it a literal interpretation.
"Do you also see lots of exercise?" Tamsyn asked.
Sascha swiveled to stare at her. "Tammy!"
"Oh yes." Faith grinned impishly, the smile rare. She'd been out of the PsyNet for several months but some things took time. Tamsyn knew the redhead was still getting used to interacting with her new packmates. "Chocolate and exercise are intimately connected in your future."
Sascha put her hands on her hips, looking from one to the other. Then her lips quirked. The laugh when it came was infectious. They were all holding onto their sides when Nate walked into the kitchen from the backyard. "What did I miss?" He was holding a bunch of flowers.
Stupidly expensive, incredibly beautiful and softly delicate.
Tamsyn stopped laughing. "You idiot." But she was walking into his arms, tears in her eyes, barely aware of Sascha and Faith slipping out of the room.
He hugged her with one arm, flowers in the other. "Happy Anniversary, my darling cat."
She sniffed. "It's not until Christmas Day."
"No it isn't."
No, it wasn't. That might be when they'd had the ceremony in the Pack Circle to celebrate their mating bond, to share their joy with packmates, but it was on this day eighteen years ago that they'd truly become one, without barriers or fears. The first day he'd ever given her orchids. "I should put them in water."
He was nuzzling at her neck. "Later. Right now, you should come upstairs and put me out of my misery."
" Nate!" she whispered, well aware of the others only a wall away. In particular, their two cubs, Julian and Roman--the boys had preternatural hearing when it came to their daddy. "The kids, Lucas and Sascha and--"
"They'll take care of the kids." Teeth nibbling on her skin. "I'll be very quiet."
Things were melting low in her stomach as the scent of him wove around her. "Liar." God she was mush where this man was concerned. Especially when he gave her orchids. "I want to be on top."
Putting the orchids on the table behind him, he scooped her up into his arms. Like all healers, she was a practical woman, but he'd always made her feel utterly feminine. Now he grinned. "No you don't. I have plans for you."
She nipped at his lower lip. "Going dominant on me, Nathan Ryder?"
He gave her a full-blooded kiss. "Remember that time in the cabin, Mrs Ryder?" He whispered a more intimate description in her ear.
"Oh." Damp heat between her legs. "You're right, I don't want to be on top." The things he'd done to her in that cabin...it was no wonder she'd agreed to be his mate. But their story had begun long before that final showdown.
|Read more about the psy/changeling series|
Twelve hours later, Nate nuzzled at Tamsyn's neck, his beast still not convinced she was going to stay. "You left but you stayed close." She'd meant him to find her.
"Actually, I wanted to go to New Zealand."
He jerked up his head to stare down into her face. "What?!"
She gave a small feminine shrug. "It hurt, dammit. Being near you and not being able to do this." She stroked her hands up his arms. "Or this." A kiss pressed to his chest. "Or this." Her leg curved over his and rubbed, as if she liked the feel of his hair-roughened skin against her smoothness.
"So you were going to New Zealand ?" He was not pleased. "Do you even know where that is?"
She slapped his shoulder. "Stop with the growling."
It was only then he realized his beast was starting to surface. "So what convinced you to stay in Tahoe?"
Nate blinked. "Juanita?"
She nodded. "I told her what I was planning and she said maybe I should take things a little bit slower to give my mother time to adjust."
"Your mother?" He was starting to feel like a parrot. "She seemed fine when she dug her claws into me."
"Really?" Tamsyn frowned. "She was in tears when she called me. So I said I'd stay here for a month and let her come visit, get used to the idea."
The idea of Sadie in tears just did not sound right.
"And," she added, "Lucas said he wasn't psychologically ready to handle my leaving."
Okay, that did it. "They damn well set us up."
"All three of them refused to tell me where you were--lied right to my face." He scowled. "They played us."
Tamsyn's lips twitched. "I did think it was odd that my mom was suddenly so emotional. And well, they did get us to this bed. And the wall. And the table."
Nate found his lips curving to mirror hers. "I guess I won't shred them into a thousand small pieces then."
"I think that would be a very good idea." She pressed kisses up his chest. "If they hadn't convinced me to stay, you'd be in New Zealand right now."
He caught the small hint of uncertainty. "Damn right I would," he said, thrusting his hand in her hair and pulling back her head so he could look into her eyes. "I'd have hunted you down to the ends of the Earth so remember that the next time you decide to pack up and leave."
"Nathan, you romantic." Then she smiled. "I think you should make love to me."
"Best idea you've had all morning."
|Read more about the psy/changeling series|
This small scene comes from early on in Lucas and Sascha’s relationship, perhaps a couple of months after Slave to Sensation.
“Lucas!” Sascha skidded to a halt at the edge of the aerie’s balcony and looked down to where her mate was working out, his body slick with sweat.
He glanced up. “You need me, kitten?”
Always, she thought, she always needed him. “There’s something wrong with the shower.” She held the towel more firmly between her breasts. “The water’s down to a trickle.”
He grinned, looking very much the panther he was. “Are you naked?”
“No.” Technically correct. “This towel is very big.”
He stayed in place, hands on his hips, a look in his eyes she didn’t trust. “Say I fix the shower, what do I get in return?”
She bit her lower lip. Playing with Lucas was fast becoming second-nature, but the cat had a head start on her when it came to these kinds of games. “A home-cooked meal.”
He shuddered. “No thanks. Your idea of a home-cooked meal is chocolate cake with hot chocolate, and then chocolate fudge for desert.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“It’s not man food.”
She smiled, looked him up and down. “My man.”
“Nu-huh.” He shook his head, hair brushing his shoulders. “I’m not falling for that. Come on, deal. Make it interesting.”
“I’ll brush you until your fur is all shiny.”
He scowled. “My fur is shiny enough thank you. I think you’re wanting to stay dirty.”
“Hmm.” She leaned on her railing. “If you come fix the shower, I’ll let you share it with me.”
He grinned but shook his head again.
“Okay, fine.” She sighed as if giving in. “I’ll recite the list of sexual positions I memorized as part of a mental training exercise.”
That list had been one of her small rebellions in the PsyNet, a tiny way to gratify the needs she couldn’t acknowledge.
“You’ll recite it while I’m soaping your delicious body.” Claws slashing out, he began to scale the tree to the aerie.
“That might interfere with my concentration.”
He landed on his feet in front of her, an alpha panther with sensual play in his eyes. “Come on now, recite. You know how that turns me on.”
“You haven’t fixed the shower yet.” Her eyes narrowed as she caught the glint of cat smugness on his mind. “Did you break it on purpose?”
“Why would I do that?” All innocence.
Her mouth fell open. “You’re…shameless!”
“No, I just know how to negotiate.” Reaching forward, he began to tug at her towel.
She gripped it tight, pushed him back with a burst of Tk. “Cheater.”
Grunting from the impact of the telekinesis, he simply tugged harder. “Sore loser.”
She released the towel without warning. He froze in place. Swiveling on her heel, she walked into the aerie…and shut the door in his face. “Now who’s the loser?”
Dropping the towel, he gave her a dark male look. “I am not pleased.”
She knew very well he was mimicking what she sometimes said to him. “And I don’t care.” Turning, well aware he had a perfect view of her retreating backside, she waggled her fingers and walked into the bedroom and then into the shower cubicle. Now that she knew he’d sabotaged it, she had it fixed in short order...just in time to spray Lucas with the detachable head as he walked in.
|Read more about the psy/changeling series|
This text was originally written as a continuation of the scene that ended on page 166 of Caressed by Ice with Brenna saying: “Miss Leozandra’s” to Vaughn.
Why didn’t it make it into the book? First, there was a small timing issue that meant not everyone who was in the scene could be there, so keep that in mind as you read this. The timeline will not merge perfectly with the book – instead, I’d advise you to read this as a completely separate scene.
Another reason this scene didn’t end up in the book was that I didn’t feel it gave the reader any new information – but it was just so darn fun to write I couldn’t stop myself. I hope you enjoy!
The smile turned into a dark scowl. “What is it with that place?”
She didn’t understand his comment until she walked into the beauty parlor. Tamsyn, Sascha and Faith were lined up getting pedicures. Vaughn had chosen to wait outside. “Hey, I didn’t expect to see you here.” She’d just wanted to feel normal today, but Sascha might want to continue the discussion they’d been having this morning.
Faith was the first to speak. “Hello, Brenna.” A soft smile that belied the strain in her eyes.
“Hi.” Brenna wanted to ask what was wrong but then saw Sascha place a hand over the other woman’s and something clicked in her mind. “It must be strange for you, being out here in the middle of so many people.” She didn’t know everything, but the rumor was that Faith had grown up pretty isolated.
The F-Psy took a deep breath. “Yes, but I’m determined to not be a recluse. So, have you come to join us in this ritual of female bonding? I was skeptical at first but I do believe I like having “Coral Crush” paint on my toenails.” She wiggled one completed foot.
Sascha laughed. “We’re taking her lingerie shopping next.” Her eyes told Brenna not to worry.
“Mean, mean.” Brenna grinned, glad for Sascha’s empathic gifts at this moment. “Torturing your mate that way.”
Faith’s smile widened. “Oh, I think a little torture is good for my kitty-cat.”
The door opened an inch. “I heard that.” A low male growl.
“Stop eavesdropping,” Tamsyn ordered. “We want to talk girl stuff. Promise to scream if we need you.”
Tamsyn’s comment was followed by a negotiation where Vaughn eventually agreed to wait on the other side of the street, where he could still see them, but not hear their conversation.
“Wonder who else is out there shadowing us?” Sascha murmured.
“Oh, let’s see,” Tamsyn leaned back in her recliner, “two of us are mated to sentinels and then there’s you and Lucas. Wanna play “who’s more protective?”
“I win.” Brenna raised her hand. “Two brothers, a pack alpha, the cats and my own man.”
The other three glanced at her, then nodded unanimously. “You win.”
Miss Leozandra swanned out of the back room at that instant, a vision in a purple caftan patterned with shimmering gold leaf.
“Brenna, my dear!” She air-kissed both of Brenna’s cheeks, her manner as flamboyant as her hair—a deep rose, the short strands spiked up and frosted sapphire blue at the tips. “Who did your hair darling?” A disapproving look. “It’s—” She waved her hands in dismay.
Brenna caught the others’ concerned looks but they needn’t have worried. Miss Leozandra was treating her exactly as she wanted to be treated. “Isn’t it hideous?” She grinned. “Can you fix it?”
The older woman tapped at her cheek with one gold-flecked nail. “Well, I suppose a nicer cut—”
“No.” Brenna had made up her mind yesterday. “Extensions. High end.” She could afford it and this was one thing she could fix.
“Oooh.” Miss Leozandra clapped her hands. “Come on.”
So it was that Brenna got down to business with Miss Leozandra herself rather than one of her assistants, accompanied by Tamsyn’s vocal opinions and Sascha’s quieter words.
“I’m using gen-synth strands.” The hairstylist laid several strands across Brenna’s palm as she sat in the styling chair.
“They’re white…no, transparent.” She could barely see them and her sight was very sharp.
“But the second they bond to your hair, they’ll start taking on its color and texture. Smart.”
Brenna was impressed. “The bonding—glue?”
Miss Leozandra sniffed. “Out decades ago. We use a laser bonder that literally sews the molecules of the strands together. When I’m done, no one—not even you—will be able to tell where your hair ends and the extensions begin.”
“How long will they last?”
“Until you cut them off.” Miss Leozandra began smoothing Brenna’s hair down with some sort of gel. “Helps the bonding. I’m going to go shoulder length with you. The gen-synth fibers are light but no sense overloading it. We can always add more in later if you want.”
Brenna’s was smiling so hard her face ached. “Let’s do it.”
The process was slow. Very slow. The DarkRiver women left partway to do their shopping, popped in an hour later to check on her and eat lunch—supplied by Miss Leozandra’s personal chef, then returned again just as Miss Leozandra whipped off the styling cape and spun the chair around to face the mirror. “Ta-dah!”
Brenna’s eyes widened. “I have bangs!” Delighted, she ran her fingers through the length of her hair. Smooth, perfect—Miss Leozandra hadn’t been exaggerating. Brenna could feel nothing which might’ve denoted a join. “This stuff is amazing!”
“And it’s on the house.” The stylist squeezed her shoulders.
Brenna felt her joy go flat—did the other woman know? “That’s not—”
Miss Leozandra waved a hand, nails flashing. “Miss Leozandra never forgets a favor. That computer you sorted out last time is working so well we won’t need a replacement for years. And the improvement you made to the automatic answering service is getting me compliments from across town. All of which is worth a whole lot more than what I did for you today. So take it and no lip.”
Brenna smiled, joy returning. “In that case, I accept.”
“Good. Because I have a feeling I’m going to need that clever brain of yours again soon—we’re thinking of installing a security bot after hours.” She smiled at Sascha. “Your people are good with keeping us safe but I like to look after my own patch.”
Robotics wasn’t Brenna’s field, but she could do basic maintenance, and if necessary, hook the stylist up with a friend from college who was a genius in the area. Looking into the mirror, she met the eyes of the other three women. “So?”
“Gorgeous.” Tamsyn grinned. “Not fair.”
“I’m glad my work is appreciated.” A beaming Miss Leozandra gave her hair a final look, then went to supervise one of her assistants.
Brenna was about to reply when something bit at her ankle. Yelping, she raised up her legs. Two small leopard cubs scooted out from under her and ran to hide behind Tamsyn. “How did they—?”
Laughing so hard she couldn’t speak, Tamsyn reached down and grabbed her twins. “S-s-sorry.” She waved at Sascha.
The Psy grinned. “Clay was keeping an eye on them while we shopped. They spent a whole day with sentinels and soldiers. I’m afraid you’ve been the target of one of their hunts. Actually I think you just got eaten.”
Brenna laughed, her heartbeat slowing down. She was used to wolf pups trying out their stalking skills on unprepared adults. “They’re very good.” The adorable twosome peered at her from their mother’s arms, their eyes a beautiful green-gold not found in wolves.
Sascha took one of the cubs when he wiggled and jumped toward her. “Julian thinks you look pretty, even if you are a wolf. Your hair’s not as dark as his coat but he likes it anyway.”
“Thank you, Julian,” she said solemnly.
“And I think you feel lovely, too.” Sascha’s smile was gentle.
Faith had remained silent to that point, watchful. “Now you see the woman you’ve always been.”
“I just needed the physical validation, you know?”
“I know.” Faith’s night-sky eyes flashed black for a second. “Maybe it’s time you got back. We all should go back.”
When a foreseer spoke in that eerie tone, everyone listened.
|Read more about the psy/changeling series|
I absolutely love this deleted scene from Branded By Fire! The reason it didn't make it into the book is that while it's heaps of fun, the reason for it - to show how close Mercy is to her pack - was something that was already apparent through the rest of the story.
I hope you all enjoy!
Mercy felt so deliciously loose and relaxed after her encounter with Riley that she had the urge to turn leopard and just curl up somewhere. It was as well that she had a standing date with the women of the pack that night.
Showering and sprucing up after her return from the den, she made it to the gathering half an hour late. It was being held at Annie and Zach’s house this time around—though Zach had been kicked out for the duration. Attendance fluctuated depending on work-shifts and the general mood of the pack, and tonight, after Nash’s successful return, there were well over twenty-five women in the small house filled with the delicious smells of chocolate, cocktails and friendship.
“Mercy!” Anu all but dragged her to a seat on the sofa. “I have something for you. Show me your toes.”
Grinning, Mercy did as bid. Ten minutes later, her toenails had been painted a vivid silver-blue that glinted in the light. “I like it,” she said definitively. Anu was one of her favorite people, being so infectiously good-natured that it was impossible to be in a bad mood around her. “How’s the baby?”
“Gorgeous. See?” The proud mommy pulled out a phone with an array of new photos.
Genuinely interested, Mercy spent several minutes looking at them. “She’s growing fast. Feels like only last week I held her and she was the size of a tadpole.”
“Tell me about it.” Anu turned to put her phone back into her purse. “Make sure you take home the rest of the polish for touch-ups.”
“Thanks.” Admiring her toes and feeling distinctly feline in her pleasure, Mercy nudged Anu.
“Here.” A margarita was put into her hand. “Anu?”
“Better not—breastfeeding. Gimme that pineapple juice.” Taking a glass, she picked up her bag of tricks. “Time for my next victim.”
Mercy glanced up at Annie as Anu arrowed her way toward Poppy. “You know how to throw a party.”
Annie grinned. “I think Zach’s having visions of coming home to find drunken naked women all over his lawn. Actually, I think he’s hoping for it. Except for his sisters, of course—I have strict instructions to save him from that trauma by warning him to stay the hell away.”
Laughing, Mercy took a sip of her margarita and watched as Annie moved to put the rest of the drinks on the low table a couple of feet away. The small brunette was immediately shanghaied by her sister-in-law, Jess, and Sascha, into a heated debate that pitted Mr. Darcy against Heathcliff. Mercy was leaning forward to listen to Annie’s take on things when Tammy waved to her from the other side of the room, where she was being offered something that had her red-faced and laughing. Curious, Mercy made her way over.
Her eyes almost crossed when she saw the array of objects on the table in front of the healer. “Tammy!”
“Hey, don’t blame me.” Tammy wiped tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes. “This is all Faith’s fault.”
The F-Psy looked incredibly demure when she answered the charge. “How was I to know what Lurrrve Motion produced? When they said they were sending me samples to help me tune my mind for forecasts, I said fine.” She glanced at long, green and very...flexible, Lurrrve Toy, her eyes dancing with laughter. “I never had to worry about things like this when I was working exclusively for Psy companies.”
Mercy was trying to figure out how another toy worked when it came buzzing to life in her hands, turning six different colors in as many seconds before bouncing out of her grasp and across the table to fall into Talin’s lap. Tally took one look at it and said, “Do you think Clay would know what this was if I took it home and gave it to him as a present?”
Seriously naughty suggestions came from all sides, and by the time it was over, Mercy was laughing so hard, her stomach muscles protested. This, she thought, was life, was joy. She couldn’t imagine a future in which her pack didn’t play an integral role. DarkRiver was part of her soul through her blood-bond to Lucas, but her packmates were part of the very fabric of her heart.
|Read more about the psy/changeling series|
Author’s note: I love the intimacy of this scene, but, I felt the information conveyed here about Sienna had come through in other parts of the book. This scene also offers another glimpse into Judd and Brenna’s relationship, but as they already had one fairly major scene, I decided to delete this one (much as it hurt!).
Judd arrived home to find his mate curled up in wolf form on a plush rug in the living area of their quarters. Going down on one knee beside her, he ran his hand over her back, her fur gloriously soft beneath the roughness of the guard hairs. Her eyes flicked open in a burst of wild welcome, and then the air was colored in the brilliant sparks that denoted a shift.
Even after all this time, it still stunned his heart when she did that, when she allowed herself to be so very, very vulnerable to a Tk who could conceivably disrupt the shift on a fatal level. The fact he’d cut out his heart before doing that wasn’t the point, not when Brenna had once been terrorized by a telekinetic.
As soon as she was kneeling warm and naked in front of him, he slid his arms around the sweet curves of her body and bent to rest his forehead against hers. Everything in him sighed in relief, in surrender. Home. He was home.
Brenna ran her fingers through his hair, over his shoulders, again and again. Petting him. Never had he imagined he’d experience such intense emotion, this wild joy that made him feel as if he had a wolf inside him, too. It was that emotion that had him speaking his heart as he looked down into eyes of brown cut with shards of blue.
Of a survivor.
Of his mate.
“I want this for her,” he said, his voice harsh. “I want her to know this kind of happiness.” Like a telekinetic Arrow, an X lived a life defined by the violence of her gift. Softness, tenderness…those weren’t things they ever dared to dream could be theirs.
Brenna cupped his face, her hands warm and silken. “He’s a good man, Judd. If they get together, you never have to worry he’ll misuse her in any way.”
“I know.” Judd’s trust in Hawke was that of a lieutenant in his alpha—absolute and without reserve. “But it hurts her, what she feels. I hate seeing that.” He’d tried to protect Sienna as an Arrow, teleporting in to see her without Ming’s knowledge, but in the end, she’d always been alone in the dark with a monster. “I wish I could save her the pain.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Kisses on his jaw. “We didn’t exactly have an easy courtship.” Cupping his face again, she claimed his mouth, sweet and hot and wet. “Anything worth winning, is worth fighting for.”
|Read more about the psy/changeling series|
Author’s note: This was originally written as a continuation of the date scene in Chapter 47. While it no longer lines up perfectly with the final scene, it offers a small glimpse of what went on that night between Walker and Lara.
Lara is seated on Walker’s lap on the sofa as the scene begins.
A change in those pale green eyes. “No rushing, Lara.”
She brought her hand up to stroke his jawline. “I thought you didn’t know what you were doing?”
“You’re teaching me.” Turning his head when her fingers brushed his lips, he sucked one gently into his mouth for a slow, hot second.
It made her whimper.
In response, he leaned forward to nuzzle a kiss to her throat. “You smell…” The sound he made was beyond masculine, low and deep and so very Walker.
“Teach me what else you like.” That big hand stroked up to the back of her thigh, higher. The instant she quivered, he repeated the stroke on the exact right spot.
Another kiss on her throat, his jaw brushing against her. He’d shaved before he’d come to her, she thought, his skin smooth under her touch as she wove her fingers into his hair. She loved the feel of his stubbled jaw against her, but the small sign of care, of tenderness, undid her.
Leaning down, she nipped the top of his ear.
His hand clenched on her thigh. “Again.”
She did as he demanded, tugging lightly with her teeth before letting go. On her thigh, his hand squeezed once more before relaxing, the roughness of his skin an exquisite caress. “Do you like that, too?”
“Yes,” she whispered, because this moment, it was quiet. Secret.
When he lifted his hand from her thigh, she wanted to moan in disappointment, but then he ran it over her breast and she clenched her fingers in his hair, the thick strands raw silk against her palm.
Walker had never thought he would one day have a lapful of warm, curvy woman in his arms. And that it was Lara… Unable to quite process the depth of what she aroused in him, he stroked his hand down her ribs, to the sensual swell of her hips.
Any and all skin privileges you want.
The wolves, for all their liking for touch, didn’t offer such a thing lightly. It spoke of complete trust on Lara’s part. Moving his hand back up, he curved it under her breast. Her nails dug into his nape, a tiny bite he hungered to experience on other parts of his body, sensual touch a new territory—one he planned to explore only with this woman. “I want to see your naked breasts.”
Heat flushed over her skin, but she didn’t say a word as he moved his hand to the top of her dress and tugged, pulling the fabric aside to reveal a lacy black bra that barely covered her nipple. His pants, already tight, were suddenly highly uncomfortable. “Show me.” It came out hard, almost cold as he fought the force of his need, but Lara, this woman who understood him, didn’t seem to mind.
Lifting a hand to her bra, she tugged down the cup so it framed her breast, offering herself to him. He bent his head and took. Tasted. Indulged. The sound she made when he sucked and rolled her nipple over his tongue, had his hand returning to push up under her dress to close around the sleek softness of her inner thigh.
“The other one,” he murmured, then realized she’d gone still. “You’re uncomfortable.”
A husky laugh. “No, just the way you look at me…” Raising her hands with those whispered words, her body soft with welcome, she pulled away the dress and the bra, until he could lick his way around her nipple before tugging it between his teeth. Her thighs clenched on the hand he had between them, squeezing tight. Listening to her body, he shifted that hand until his knuckles brushed against the delicate lace of her panties.
A little cry that did unknowable things to him.
Increasing the pressure, he felt her body tighten and then she was tugging up his head with her hands in his hair, her lips seeking his in feminine desperation. He kissed her the way he’d learned made her melt, licking into her mouth as he pressed her closer to him with the hand he’d braced on her lower back.
She shuddered, pressed hard against his knuckles. “Walker…”
He was no expert lover, but he knew how to listen, how to put together pieces of data—so he rubbed his knuckles against her. When she whimpered and strained impossibly closer, he deepened the pressure once more. Her cry was gasped out, her body quivering as she fell into him.
Trust. Such absolute trust.
Shifting his hand down to her thigh, he smoothed it over her knee, then back up. And since it was so easy, he leaned down and bit her ear like she’d bitten his. She jerked, smiled against his neck.
“No fair.” A soft, intimate murmur. “I’m helpless.”
He kissed the line of her throat, running his mouth up to tug at her earlobe with his teeth…and felt the ripple of shocked pleasure that rocked her. “Is this what the juveniles call ‘making out’?”
“Yes.” Gasping in a breath, she laughed. “What do you think?”
“There’s a high level of frustration involved.” His erection felt as if it would snap in half.
“That’s part of the fun.” Nuzzling at him, she said, “I can do something about that frustration,” and it was an offer both intimate and warm.
Every muscle in his body went tense—he’d fathered a child, but until Lara he’d never before touched a woman…been touched by her. Yet now he held a beautiful, sensual woman in his arms and he wondered how he had ever survived without her touch. “Show me,” he said, his voice lower, rougher than he’d ever heard it.
A fox-bright gaze, small tempting kisses. “I love your voice.” Sliding her hand down his chest, she tugged at his belt. She’d just undone the top button of his pants and was unzipping him when his erection jumped at the brush of her hand. Walker grit his teeth, but it was too late. The single touch after a lifetime in the cold shattered him, ripping pleasure through every cell of his body.
Perhaps he should’ve been embarrassed, but with Lara petting and kissing him, all he felt was… He didn’t have the word, but he knew that no one had ever made him feel like this. “Sorry,” he murmured, luxuriating in her caresses.
“Now that we’re both relaxed”—a wicked smile—“want to do it again?”
|Read more about the psy/changeling series|
Author’s note: This was how the second scene in chapter 16 originally ended. However, much as I enjoyed seeing Drew again, I decided the pace of the story was better served by a shorter, tighter scene that ended with Sienna’s memory of her first meeting with Hawke.
“Do it.” A hand on her head, snapping the thread of memory.
“Morning, sugarpie.” Reaching over, he snagged another muffin for her.
“Stop with that nickname.” In spite of her scowl, she had no resistance to his smile—or the blueberry and white chocolate treat he held out. “Thanks.”
Pouring himself a big cup of coffee, Drew grabbed a muffin for himself before sitting down across from her. Freshly showered, his brown hair looking closer to black, he was clearly wide awake. “Do you have an early shift?” she asked.
“Indy did,” he said. “While I’m intellectually and physically opposed to getting up before the civilized hour of noon, sneaking kisses while I walked her to her post was too tempting to resist.”
Sienna felt a pang of longing, wondered what it would be like to be adored with such open joy.
“What’re you doing in this section?” she asked, hoping Drew wouldn’t pick up on her desolate mood. “You’re one of the smug-mateds now you know.”
Grinning, he tapped her on the nose. “Came to see someone else, caught your scent.”
Her responding smile was genuine. “I better go.” She polished off her milk. “Have to get down to the Eastern perimeter.”
Drew rose as well. “Want some company?”
“You have time?”
“For you”—an arm flung around her shoulders—“all the time in the world.”
Her usually infallible antennae didn’t start to twitch until they’d reached her watch position. “So,” Drew said, leaning against the proud might of an ancient fir that brushed the dawn-streaked sky, “it seems I’m going to have to kick Hawke’s ass for whatever he did to put that look in your eyes.”
That was when she remembered Drew wasn’t only playful and affectionate, he was also—according to the scuttlebutt she’d picked up—the pack’s tracker. “He’ll wipe the floor with you,” she said instead of answering the implied question.
“Only if I fight fair. You know sneaky is my preferred method. Plus I know a certain former Arrow who’d be more than happy to provide back-up.”
Sienna began to walk the perimeter, hoping if she kept this light, he’d drop it. “No need to do any violence on my behalf.”
“Oh, I disagree.” Easy words as he fell into step beside her. “Little sisters have to be looked after.”
Halting, she stared at that handsome face with its lake blue eyes so bright and shrewd. “Don’t you dare pull the overprotective big brother act with me.” Having witnessed him and Riley with Brenna, she was well warned.
“It’s not an act.” A teasing smile but there was an edge to it. “He hurt you.”
“Drew.” Walking over, she touched her hand to his heart. “Don’t do anything, please. It would be...” Agonizing. “Just don’t. Please.”
Drew closed his hand over her own. “Hey, of course I won’t do anything if you feel that way about it.” Shadows darkening the lake blue. “But you know you can come to me, right? Anytime?”
She nodded, but this was the one thing she couldn’t talk about with anyone. Not without tearing open her heart, exposing vulnerabilities so deep, they held the potential to destroy her.
|Read more about the psy/changeling series|
Author’s note: This conversation is from one of my earlier drafts of Kiss of Snow. Because of changes in the ensuing drafts, it doesn’t slot neatly into a particular chapter. However, as you’ll see, a certain aspect of this scene did make it into the book in the form of the conversation Lara has with Marlee in chapter 48.
It was his daughter with her gap-toothed smile who took him to task. “Daddy?”
“Yes?” He carefully sanded the edge of a tiny table, a piece of furniture for Marlee’s dollhouse—her dolls had apparently decided they “must” have a dining room.
“How come”—a crunchy bite of pear—“you don’t kiss Lara like Uncle Judd kisses Aunt Brenna?”
Walker froze. He knew full well his daughter was intelligent, but this—“Why are you asking me that question?”
She swung her legs from her seat on his workbench, and took another bite of her fruit before answering. “‘Cause Ben says you smell of Lara and grown-ups only smell like that when there’s kissing.” A breath. “But I said you weren’t kissing her and he said you probably were in secret, so I was wondering how come”—a second breath—“you didn’t just kiss her like normal?”
A little dazed, Walker leaned against the bench beside his daughter, the miniature dining table forgotten. He didn’t tell her that Ben was wrong. There had been no kissing—but he’d clearly spent enough time with Lara that their scents had become intertwined on some level. So, he asked a question he’d never thought he’d ask his child. “Does my spending time with Lara bother you?”
Toby, the boy he considered his son, was an empath, would instinctively understand that Walker needed Lara in a way he might never be able to articulate even if he accepted it, but Marlee had always been a “daddy’s girl.”
Now, she frowned. “Why would I?” She offered him her pear.
He took a bite, gave the rest back to her. “I never want you to feel as if I’m not paying attention to you.”
Marlee beamed. “Yeah, but if you mate with Lara, then I’ll have a mom like Ben does!”
His heart stopped. “You miss having a mom?”
“I guess, a little.” She kicked off her shoes before leaning into him when he put his arm around her.
“The mom I had before, she wasn’t a real mom. I think Lara would be—we’re not her kids, but she cuddles me and Toby and Ben and the other pups. Sometimes she tells us off if we’re naughty.” A guilty glance up from under her lashes. “But she’s nice.”
None of that, he thought, was a surprise, because Lara’s heart was as big as the Sierra. “I’m not sure if I’m what she needs.” He didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud until Marlee said, “Ben says his mom likes it when his dad brings her flowers. Did you get Lara flowers?”
No, he hadn’t. And still she gave so much of herself to him, had become the one person with whom he could speak of anything. A friend, he called her, knowing he was tying her to him, keeping her from forming relationships with other men.
But he also knew he wouldn’t step back, wouldn’t set her free. Because sweet, competent Lara had made long-dormant parts of him come to painful, brittle life.
|Read more about the psy/changeling series|
Author’s note: In Play of Passion, Indigo makes a promise to herself that she’ll warn the woman who becomes Hawke’s prey. This scene, intended for one of the early chapters, was written as a fulfillment of that promise. In the end, I decided the book worked better if Indigo’s support of Sienna came through in a more subtle way, but this scene (though it doesn't slot neatly into the final book), shows just how strongly Indigo cares for the young woman Sienna has become.
Sienna was on her way out of the den that night, having put Toby and Marlee to bed after helping both with their homework, when Indigo walked up to her. “Going somewhere?”
“I just needed to get out.” Her skin felt too tight, too full, her psychic energy shoving to escape—something Walker had spotted as soon as he returned home a few minutes earlier.
“Thought I’d go for a walk.” When she was alone, far from the den, she’d earth herself, expending the build-up of power the only way she knew how.
“I’ll join you.”
Sienna nodded. In spite of her edgy state, she wasn’t yet ready to free the monster within. “The waterfall?” It was a little further than the lake that was her usual spot of choice, but more likely to be empty.
Neither of them spoke again until they reached the rocky edge of the waterfall. Sienna took a seat with her legs hanging over the side, her face kissed by the occasional cool spray carried by the wind.
The water was inky black today, except for where it foamed at the bottom, the roar of the fall another piece of the tapestry that made the Sierra Nevada so very magnificent. There was peace here. Sienna knew that. She just couldn’t quite capture it, couldn’t quite make it affect her the way it should. Always, inside her, there was chaos, a tumult of energy that hungered to live, to experience, to explore.
“So,” Indigo said, coming down to sit on her left, long legs hanging over the edge beside Sienna’s, “listen up.”
Sienna knew that tone of voice. “What did I do now?”
Indigo’s lips quirked. “Nothing. Believe me, that surprises me, too.”
Sienna should’ve been offended—maybe a year ago, she would’ve blown up at the wry comment. But she’d grown up in that year. “I wasn’t that bad.”
“Puh-leeze, you’re still the reigning champ of trouble with the trick you pulled that turned every drop of water in the den bright purple.”
“Non toxic dye,” Sienna said, making a mental note to share Indigo’s assessment with her accomplice, Evie. “And the kids thought it was awesome.” She’d never have done anything that would’ve scared them.
“Uh-huh. Then there was the time you told all the juveniles you could read their minds and that you were spying on them for Hawke.”
“That wasn’t such a good idea in the end,” Sienna admitted. “I think some of them are still wary around me.”
Indigo snorted. “You have your group of troublemaker friends. Tai I can understand, but how the hell did you rope in Evie?”
“Mind control. Obviously.” Sienna met the lieutenant’s laughing gaze, told a quiet truth. “Your sister’s heart is so full of goodness, it makes me scared for her.” Like Toby, Evie had no badness in her.
Indigo’s expression gentled. “Yeah, me, too. Which is why I’ll kick Tai’s ass bloody if he hurts her in any way, shape or form.”
Sienna thought of what Tai had said to her about Evie, knew Indigo wouldn’t have to make good on that promise. “Did you want to talk to me about how I messed up by stepping off watch?” Her stomach knotted because Indigo was someone who mattered, whose opinion Sienna deeply respected.
“I trained you, Sienna. I know you’ll have been beating yourself up about that since the night it happened.” Indigo leaned forward, turning her face into the fine mist coming off the waterfall. “You were always harder on yourself than I was.”
I have to be. Failure was simply not an option, not for an X. “I’m sorry,” she said, not voicing the harsh truth she’d learned to live with over the past year. Before that, she’d let it strangle her, and her resulting anger had further accelerated her rate of decline. No more. “I know it reflects badly on you if I stuff up.”
Indigo put a hand on her shoulder, squeezed. “We all make mistakes. And you’re paying your dues—far as I’m concerned, it’s done with. When do you finish in the kitchens?”
“Two more days.”
Indigo nodded. “The thing I wanted to discuss with you has to do with Hawke. Specifically”—the lieutenant met her gaze—“you and Hawke.”
Sienna stopped breathing, her mind catapulting her to the shocking heat of his touch that night before he left the den. All that maleness so close to her, all that barely contained power. “What about me and Hawke?” she managed to say.
Indigo’s unbound hair whipped off her face in the wind generated by the waterfall, baring the clean, strong lines of her face. “I promised myself I’d warn the woman who became his prey.”
Sienna gripped the wrist of one hand with the other. “I’m not.”
“No,” Indigo agreed and it was a stab to Sienna’s heart. “Not yet.”
Sienna jerked up her head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you have a problem, sweetheart.” The term of affection was accompanied by a shake of her head. “That big, gorgeous wolf is going to shut you down the instant you step out of line—because he can.”
“There’s not much I can do about that, Indigo. He’s alpha.” The ultimate law.
Indigo’s jaw firmed. “Find a way.” A cool statement as she reached out to tap Sienna’s temple.
“That brain has gotten you into more trouble than most of the other young ones combined. Put it to work on the problem.”
Sienna rubbed her fingers over her wrist. “But—”
“Quiet. Listen.” Angling her body, Indigo spoke directly to her, those brilliant eyes night-glow in the dark. “He sees you. Maybe it pisses him off—”
Sienna sucked in a breath.
“—but you want him pissed off.”
“I don’t think so,” Sienna muttered, thinking of how lethal Hawke could be in that kind of a mood.
She was still smarting from the way he’d torn a strip off her hide after that idiotic fight with Maria.
Indigo ignored her. “When he does come after you, fight. Fight for everything.”
Sienna closed her hand over the jagged edge of the rocks. “He touched me the night before he left for the mountains.” The secret spilled out of her.
“No.” Unclenching her hands from the cold bite of the rocks, she went to shove her hands into her hair before remembering she’d braided it. “He hasn’t made even a token effort to find me since then.”
Indigo frowned. “Look, I don’t know if I should be telling you this, but what heck—you’re going to need all the help you can get.”
A sick feeling bloomed in her abdomen at the warning in Indigo’s tone. “What?”
“He’s sexually hungry,” Indigo said bluntly. “And since he’s a stubborn bastard, he might try to work it off with another female.”
Sienna felt a cold, cold rage burn within her, an icy thing that had her heart turning rigid in her chest. It took conscious effort to wrench back the fury, to quiet the responding violence of her ability.
“Makes you mad enough to kill, doesn’t it?” Smiling, Indigo pulled back several strands of hair dancing across her face. “Then make sure he doesn’t have the chance to see anyone but you. However, that’s not the issue.”
“No?” It came out almost soundless, her brain hazed by darkest red.
“Have you been with a man, Sienna?”
A whip of heat slicing clean through the cold rage. “It’s not—I’m not—I—” She clamped her mouth shut, tried again. “It’s different for Psy.” She’d been trained against all physical contact. It had taken her years to get to the point where she was able to allow someone she trusted close enough for a kiss.
“I know. That’s why I’m asking, and you just gave me your answer.” Indigo blew out a breath. “I think it’s time we had a birds and bees talk.”
Sienna wanted to dig a hole and crawl into it. Scrape the dirt over herself for good measure. “I had that in my first year of health class.”
“Not that talk. The talk about how predatory changeling males can get when they’re on the edge. You, of course, will have to multiply that by ten since Hawke is alpha and hasn’t had sex in months—at the very least. So listen up, and take notes.”
|Read more about the psy/changeling series|
This scene, from one of my earlier drafts, tells you a bit more about Zia, the empath mentioned in chapter 13. It also reveals more information about Hawke’s father, the majority of which was later rewritten into other scenes in Kiss of Snow, so this particular scene wasn’t so much totally deleted as redistributed throughout the book.
Sienna and Hawke are lying in bed as the scene opens, Sienna’s arms braced on Hawke’s chest as she looks up at him.
“Zia was one hundred and twenty-seven years old.” The woman had been as wrinkled as a raisin and as tiny as a child, but he’d never seen her sit still. “I didn’t understand what she was when I was growing up—I knew she was Psy, from before Silence, but I never really thought about it.” He’d been a boy, with a boy’s happy self-absorption. “I just figured she was a telepath if I ever did think about it.”
“She would’ve been an adult when Silence was implemented.” Sienna’s tone held pure fascination.
“The things, the changes she had to have witnessed.”
A thoughtful frown before she lay her head back down on his chest. “Her life must’ve held such sadness.”
“I realized that when I grew older,” he said, “but at the time, she was one of the elders and I was a kid.” A kid with two loving parents and a girl who was his best friend. Then Rissa had died and his father had started to act in ways that had scared Hawke’s wolf on an elemental level. “Zia,” he continued, “was the first person who actually sensed that something was very wrong in the pack. At first, I don’t think anyone really paid her too much attention.” If they had…but the clock could never be turned back.
Sienna nuzzled at his neck, as if she knew how the memories clawed at him. Cuddling her closer, he continued. “But then a number of the pack—including my father—started to behave so erratically it was dangerous, and Garrick began to listen to Zia. It was too late by then though.” His father’s bloody rampage as he cut down the others who’d been compromised, had already begun.
“I’m sorry, Hawke.”
“I’ve come to terms with what happened. It helps that my father fought to the bitter end. He couldn’t stop himself from harming Garrick, but he stepped in the path of a bullet for him.” His angry pain had been tempered with time, until he could remember the man who’d loved him with such fierce loyalty, and forgive the one who’d broken.
“He died in my mother’s arms. Zia told us later that his mental shields had been so compromised, they’d collapsed—as if his brain was lying cracked open to the elements, his skull gone.” He thought of the pain his father must’ve suffered as he tried to fight the compulsions, the horror of knowing he was acting without honor, but being unable to stop it. “All in all…we lost a quarter of the population in the den before the bloodshed ended.”
Wet heat on his chest and he realized his tough, unbreakable Psy was crying. “Ah, baby,” he said, shifting until he was braced over her. “It wasn’t you,” he said, able to read her thoughts for all that he was no telepath. “It could never be you.”
She shook her head. “I could’ve been one of them.”
“Never. You have your mother’s heart.” He kissed her cheeks, sipping at the salt of her tears. “We survived.” The remaining seniors and elders had held SnowDancer together until he turned fifteen.
They hadn’t been able to give him any more time—because a wolf pack without an alpha could not grow strong, could not heal. “I’m going to love you now, Sienna.”
A smile that held too many years, too much knowledge. “Not as much as I love you.”
It began with a kiss and ended with him holding her as dawn lit the sky, knowing that he couldn’t hold back the coming of the day.
|Read more about the psy/changeling series|
Author’s note: While this scene is powerful, I deleted it because I felt Judd’s need to help Sienna, his commitment to doing everything he could for his niece, was already clear. The timeline of this scene doesn’t tie perfectly into the final book, so keep that in mind as you read.
Ten hours after Judd had brought Alice Eldridge into the den, she showed not the faintest sign of consciousness. He met Lara’s eyes across the woman’s unresponsive body. “I can attempt to breach her mind.”
Lara expression grew troubled. “Even if you're able to do it without hurting her, I can’t allow you to invade her privacy that way.”
Judd had no such compunctions, because if they couldn’t stop the cascade of Sienna’s power, he would have to put a bullet through her heart, end her life. They’d decided on that the day they defected, and it was a promise he’d hoped never to have to keep. “It’s Sienna’s life on the line.”
“And you’d do anything for her.” Lines around Lara’s mouth, pain in her words. “So would I. But Judd, to violate one woman to save another?”
Judd knew she was right—but he also knew he’d cross far worse lines to save his sister’s child. But Sienna wouldn’t buy her life at the cost of Alice’s, and so he couldn’t act on the dark impulse.
“Sascha,” he said, his mind clearing for a second. “She may be able to sense something without causing harm. I’ll get her.”
Lucas almost killed him when he teleported directly into the cabin, the DarkRiver alpha’s claws a bare quarter of an inch from his throat. “Shit.” Judd froze.
“I should gut you,” Lucas said, the leopard very much in his gaze. “Jesus fucking Christ man!”
Judd didn’t dare move until the other man dropped his hand. “I apologize.” He should’ve never entered the cabin—if he’d been thinking straight, he wouldn’t even have come close. “I came for Sascha.”
The empath walked out of the bedroom, Naya—so small, so vulnerable—cradled in her arms. “What do you need?”
When he told her, her eyes turned to pure midnight. “It’s really her?”
“Yes.” Alice Eldridge’s research had been erased from the web, but there were still a few scattered photos of her, mostly on dusty sites kept by conspiracy theorists—but not even their theories came close to the reality of the strange life and “death” of Alice Eldridge. “Will you come?”
|Read more about the psy/changeling series|