marriage apart. She let her guard down and allowed herself to love. But that
love—and the passion that followed—could have been the death of them…well, him.
Martin’s and his ex-wife’s libidos into overdrive. Add being stuck in an
elevator to the mix and desires explode. Coop wants his wife back but she’s
thrown up a roadblock that he’s determined to break through.
reveal who—and what—she is? And could Coop still love her should the truth be
over her breasts and down her slightly rounded stomach, disappearing into the
surface of the lake.
adding a soft glow to the night. Crickets serenaded her with their chirping
song. A wolf howled in the distance. Nature cocooned her.
heated from the sun’s rays of earlier in the day. Her body became
insubstantial, fragmenting into molecules of H2O. Disorientation left her
bewildered, but the feeling came and went. Weightless warmth enveloped her, and
the ebb and flow of the tide lulled her into blissful relaxation.
body became corporeal with a single thought. After regaining her human form,
she cut through the water with powerful strokes and rose to the surface in a
rush of bubbles.
pimples along her flesh. She pushed the long fall of golden blonde tresses from
her face and glanced into the deep, lush woods that ringed the lake. Soon the
leaves would change to shades of gold, orange, red, and brown. In would come
the autumnal chill. Her time in the waters would decrease, and then winter
would set in and freeze her out.
located on the basement level of her large log home. Even with the greenery she
had sprinkled about, it never fully replaced the exhilaration of the lake, the
feel of fresh air against her skin, and the scent of the wilderness.
had long since worn short on her nerves.
tones of her life.
with the water.
trouble believing the truth, if it wasn’t her life.
her father was human and her mother was a water nymph.
First, she needed daily contact with a body of water. Like her pool in the
basement. Second, she also needed a daily dose of sex. Preferably more than
once a day. After all, the term “nymphomaniac” had been born of a nymph’s sex
He pressed the “up” button and waited for the car to descend. The stainless
steel doors opened with a bing. Stepping through the threshold, he hit the
button for the third floor. He checked his reflection in the mirrored panels
gracing the walls. The ride seemed to take longer than normal, which annoyed
the hell out of him. His foot tapped impatiently on the carpeted floor.
to the judge’s chambers. His long, ground-eating strides took him to his
destination in under a minute.
open and strode into the room. Sitting behind a large, ornately carved desk was
Judge Hawker. Her gray hair haloed her head in a tidy mass of curls. Lines
deeply etched her haggard face, affirming she was a kick-ass bitch.
to join us, Mr. Martin.” Her voice cracked like an old Victrola record player.
one of two black leather armchairs. Long, golden-blonde hair cascaded over the
back, beckoning for him to run his fingers through the silken stands.
she was there in the first place, rose up like a leviathan from the deep. The
muscles in his jaw tightened, and his lips formed a thin line.
through clenched teeth.
full lips formed a soft, forced smile that her large, doe-shaped brown eyes
didn’t reflect. A form-fitting, cream-colored sweater hugged her breasts and
torso, doing little to hide her lithe figure. Her hands rested in her lap.
Long, jean-clad legs crossed at the ankle. The brown of her high-end leather satchel
matched her well-worn hiking boots.
eye contact with her, and enunciated each of the words that followed very
clearly, “Do. Not. Call. Me. Cooper.”
just slipped out. A defense mechanism. A way to cover the instantaneous hurt
that had rocketed like a missile to her heart.
ground. She hadn’t expected Coop to walk through the door.
the bitch who had set her—no, us—up.
of cigarettes she smoked a day did little to detract from the look. “Do you
have something to say, Miss Bouche?” Her voice grated Naida’s nerves and
reminded her of gravel scraping over an asphalt road. The hag had the nerve to
broaden her smile.
her sides, nails biting into the flesh of her palms. “Why is he here?”
darting from one female to the other and shooting daggers at same time. He
shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it onto the empty armchair.
thudded hard against her breastbone. How she hated Coop looking at her with
such disdain. But she had brought it on herself.
with no explanation why. Just up and went to an attorney. Had he done anything
wrong? No. Had he begged and pleaded for an explanation? Yes.
one human, she’d ever loved.
Though my contracted stories are paranormals, I haven’t discounted writing a
contemporary or two.
I live in Pennsylvania just a hair shy of the Maryland border. I live with a
family I adore which includes two furry feline children and a furry canine
In my spare time, I’m more than likely watching television. I watch Bones, Blue
Bloods, NCIS:New Orleans, or some sort of car show like Wheeler Dealers.
I’m a huge sports fan, football in particular. During the fall/winter, I’m
watching Notre Dame or Penn State on Saturdays and the Saints or Colts on
I’ve been known to have my nose buried in a book. Nora Roberts/JD Robb and
Clive Cussler are favorites of mine. I know, I know…Clive Cussler isn’t a
romance author. The man can weave a tale of adventure like no other!