#MFRWHooks ~ Predator and Prey (@KA_Raines)

Welcome to MFRW’s weekly Book Hooks blog hop! To check out the other blogs in this hop, simply click the banner below or in the side bar. This week, I thought I’d share another excerpt from The Infiltrator, or the scene where Derrick and Keira are FINALLY about to get it on. Warning: This excerpt contains adult content, although it’s nothing too explicit.

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is b7477-mfrw-book-hooks400.jpg

After stringing up a sheet in Derrick’s corner of the garage, Keira stepped back, admiring her handiwork. It wasn’t much, but it would afford them some privacy should the night rover find his way down here at this hour. Also, it muffled the light from the incinerator, leaving just enough of a glow by which to see. Satisfied, she began to undress. Her body hummed with anticipation, every nerve ending sensitized, her physical sensations heightened as she neatly folded her pajamas and placed them next to his cot. The hunting knife Derrick gave her went on top, her boots went lined up neatly next to the stack. As she climbed on top of the tattered but neatly smoothed quilt, clad only in a pair of ridiculously impractical panties—she didn’t bother asking Roz where she found them—she was so giddy with excitement she almost felt drugged.

Her heart hammered as she waited, warmth pooling between her legs and dampening the scant lace, all from mere anticipation of his touch. She was going to have him. She was finally going to have him. They had things to discuss—things that wouldn’t wait much longer—but they would consummate this thing between them first.

She laid back against his single lumpy pillow, hand roaming over her breasts. She pinched her nipples and bit her lip, trailing her hand lazily down her belly and between her legs. When she was younger, she had criticized her body harshly. But her body, while not as young as it once was, was strong. It was a tool that had enabled her survival, and she respected it. And she didn’t have any qualms about enjoying it—or about giving it over to Derrick for their mutual enjoyment. She didn’t dip her fingers into her panties just yet, but idly traced the dampness through the lace, lightly teasing herself. She was tempted to start without him as she thought about earlier that evening, before the alarm interrupted them. She recalled his words, raw and feral: “Wanna taste you.”

Did he think about that a lot? Tasting her? Did he fantasize about it? And she had no doubt in her mind that he touched himself while thinking about her. Because she thought about him…and she knew that he wanted her just as badly as she wanted him. She propped herself on her elbows, losing her patience and tempted to hunt him down, when she realized that he was watching her from the edge of the sheet she’d just strung up. In the dim lighting, his eyes looked almost dangerous, his expression rapt. He’d slunk in without her noticing, evidently frozen at the sight of her, halfway inside the barrier she’d erected, with the sheet draping over his back. He was bare-chested, droplets of water from his shower still gleaming on his chest and beard. He was beautiful. Keira sat up and wordlessly beckoned him, and he obliged eagerly, his expression turning predatory as he stalked toward her. When he stopped at the foot of the cot, she could clearly see, even in the semi-darkness, his sizable erection tenting his dark sweatpants. Her mouth practically watered as she crawled toward him on hands and knees, feeling every bit the predator herself, before raising fully onto her knees. Her arms slid up his bare chest before snaking around his neck, and their mouths met greedily.

Buy HERE ~ Only $2.99 and always FREE on Kindle Unlimited!

3d Hardcover on transparent

A virus has rendered humanity mostly extinct. Keira Starr is alone, staying alive by staying on the run, sleeping in empty gas stations and the trunks of cars long abandoned on the highway. The world is overrun by “Ghosts,” the mindless, bloodthirsty dead, but they are the least of her problems. She is being hunted by ragtag groups of ruthless men, independent contractors working for a mysterious human trafficking ring. When she is finally captured, she discovers that Derrick Caine, despite his gruff demeanor and appearance, may just have a different agenda altogether.

~~~

This is a blog hop. Click the link below to check out the other blogs in the hop!

Powered by Linky Tools

Click here to enter your link and view this Linky Tools list…

#MFRWsteam ~ Ball’s in Her Court Now (@KA_Raines)

mfrw-steam-bnr-400

Welcome to MFRW’s monthly Steam Hop, a blog hop for steamy romance writers! Click the banner to the left or on the side bar to view the other blogs in the hop!

For my entry, I chose an excerpt from my debut novel, The Infiltrator. To set the scene, Derrick and Keira barely escaped a pack of blood-thirsty Ghosts with their lives. Wet, cold, hungry, and emotionally exhausted, it’s the perfect set-up…

~~~

Keira sat up then—there was just room in the confines of the tent—and looked down as she watched him take a long, deep drag. As usual, she couldn’t read the look in his eyes because they were shielded by a fringe of dark hair, and there was something acutely masculine about the rugged set of his unshaven jaw. He had one arm casually bent behind his head, his bicep straining against the ripped cotton of his stained tee. “I’m going out on a limb here, Derrick,” she finally said. “I don’t have to go anywhere with you, but I am. I just wanna know what I’m walkin’ into.”

His eyes latched onto hers heatedly as he exhaled slowly through his nose, and the almost animalistic way he was looking at her had her clenching her thighs together, instinctively seeking friction as the familiar warmth pooled low in her belly.

“Yeah?” he said at last, his voice that now-familiar throaty growl that made her insides quiver. “Then what’re you still doin’ here? No one’s forcin’ ya. Can’t say I’d blame you for walkin’ away, since you don’t know me—not really, and you sure as shit wouldn’t be the first.” His free hand snaked out then, lightly landing on her hip, somehow timid yet bold all at once. His fingertips scorched her as his thumb just grazed the flesh beneath the hem of her shirt. She watched as his hooded gaze flickered downward, landing on her nipples that strained against the flimsy fabric, before trailing further down to the simple cotton panties she’d taken from a Dollar General north of Texarkana last week.

She forced her breathing into a steady rhythm, feeling, strangely, both annoyed and aroused—annoyed that he had the ability to arouse her with a simple look. No man should have the sort of power over her. “And no one forced you to come after me. I can take care of myself.”

His hand squeezed her hip ever-so-slightly, his gaze slowly dragging back up to meet her eyes once more as his exploring thumb slipped just beneath the waistband of her panties. “Yeah. No shit.” His eyes were dark with lust, and he didn’t seem embarrassed by the massive erection that his boxer-briefs did nothing to hide.

They continued to make eye contact in an unspoken challenge, the tension heavy in the air between them, and Keira knew that he was waiting to see what she would do next. The ball was in her court. If she wanted him, all she had to do was take him.

She was aware that she looked a mess, and she was sure she must smell even worse. Yet she felt emboldened when she shifted and leaned over him in the next instant, not allowing herself to put too much thought into what she was doing as she draped one thigh over his hips, rubbing her center lightly against him. She continued to hold his gaze as she took the mostly-forgotten cigarette from between his lips and brought it to her own, inhaling deeply. She hadn’t smoked since her college years, when she started dating Kevin and he’d deemed it unattractive, and so she savored the nicotine. Her eyes never left Derrick’s as she slowly exhaled the smoke and pressed the cigarette between his fingers.

She felt irrefutably empowered by his ragged breathing, and by the heat of his impressive length that strained insistently against her inner thigh when she dragged her leg back over his and settled at his side once more. She smiled thinly, knowing that she had regained her power. If she wanted to, she could fuck him stupid and slip off quietly next time he slept. She had been on her own for a while now, and she preferred it that way. She didn’t need other people, and she certainly didn’t need him.

Buy HERE ~ Only $2.99 and always FREE on Kindle Unlimited!

3d Hardcover on transparent

A virus has rendered humanity mostly extinct. Keira Starr is alone, staying alive by staying on the run, sleeping in empty gas stations and the trunks of cars long abandoned on the highway. The world is overrun by “Ghosts,” the mindless, bloodthirsty dead, but they are the least of her problems. She is being hunted by ragtag groups of ruthless men, independent contractors working for a mysterious human trafficking ring. When she is finally captured, she discovers that Derrick Caine, despite his gruff demeanor and appearance, may just have a different agenda altogether.

This is a blog hop! Click the link below to visit the other blogs in this hop!

Powered by Linky Tools

Click here to enter your link and view this Linky Tools list…

#MFRWHooks ~ “She’s Mine.” (@KA_Raines)

For this week’s book hook, I thought I’d share an excerpt from The Infiltrator. In this scene, Keira is evading Seekers, independent contractors working for a human trafficking ring in the wake of the apocalypse. When she’s awakened from her hiding spot in the dead of night, she discovers she’s no longer alone.

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is b7477-mfrw-book-hooks400.jpg

On the fourth night at the cottage, she was jerked rudely awake by a scuffling from above. Her sleep-deprived mind struggled to push back the panic that crept in and settled around her like a dark cloud. One hand closed around the revolver—the one with which she’d first planned to murder her husband—on her stomach as she bolted upright. She trembled beneath her threadbare blanket, nerves frayed as she rose from her pallet, tiptoeing through the pitch black to the bottom of the staircase. She held the revolver with a steady grip while listening to the noises of the cottage above. She was exhausted from only sleeping in two-to-three-hour stretches, but her senses were now fully alert as she detected another distinct shuffling noise followed by the timbre of male voices. Three at least, possibly more.

Her eyes flashed to the single window above the crates stacked in the corner as she considered her possibilities. The frame was narrow, but Keira had been thin even before the world ended. She could simply kill the men in the house above. It was the first suitable shelter she had encountered for miles, and it was an unusually cold night for this early in the season. Even with a roof over her head, the threat of hypothermia was very real, especially since the rain had started again. The ground would be frozen over by morning. Not wasting any more time, she marched to the window and stuffed her meager belongings behind a crate. The men clearly hadn’t yet discovered the cellar door off the small kitchen, but it was only a matter of minutes. Keira would wait outside by the cover of darkness and observe them through the windows, gauge how many she was dealing. She would likely wait until they were sleeping, slit the watchman’s throat, and then slip back inside and silently kill the others. She had long ago learned to do what she had to, and she didn’t stop to think about it. If it was a cruel world before, it had become something unspeakable now.

Keira clamored through the window and pressed herself against the cold stone of the house, eyes darting frantically about. It was dark, the rain still coming down in icy sheets, shocking her system, and rendering objects in her line of vision little more than shapeless masses.

“Weapons on the ground, and hands where I can see ‘em.”

The voice came from in front of her and slightly to the left, little more than a low growl that caused an involuntary shiver down her spine.

Her eyes shot in the speaker’s direction and her hands instinctively tightened on the switchblade in her left hand and the gun in her right. Her heart stuttered as panic seized it in an icy grip. Yet outwardly she remained calm. She’d dealt with Seekers more than once, but she’d take the Ghosts any day.

“Easy there.” He was stalking toward her slowly, and the large blur grew distinct, shaping into a lean, powerful frame and broad shoulders. A weapon—a rifle—was aimed at her center mass. “Don’t wanna hurt ya.” He was mere feet away now. Keira couldn’t see his eyes beneath a mop of shaggy dark hair, plastered to his face by the downpour.

“Whatcha got there, Derrick? That a woman?”

Her pulse fluttered in genuine fear at the second voice; there was something in it that chilled her blood, something unmistakably hard—and well-suited for this world.

“Nah, man,” the first man snarled as the second jogged out of the tree line, aiming some sort of bow at her. The rifleman’s free hand came up, stopping his companion forcefully in his tracks as he attempted to move forward and get a better look at Keira. “She’s mine.”

Buy HERE ~ Only $2.99 and always FREE on Kindle Unlimited!

3d Hardcover on transparent

A virus has rendered humanity mostly extinct. Keira Starr is alone, staying alive by staying on the run, sleeping in empty gas stations and the trunks of cars long abandoned on the highway. The world is overrun by “Ghosts,” the mindless, bloodthirsty dead, but they are the least of her problems. She is being hunted by ragtag groups of ruthless men, independent contractors working for a mysterious human trafficking ring. When she is finally captured, she discovers that Derrick Caine, despite his gruff demeanor and appearance, may just have a different agenda altogether.

M/F, erotic romance, dystopian, post-apocalyptic, sci-fi/fantasy

Powered by Linky Tools

Click here to enter your link and view this Linky Tools list…

#MFRWHooks ~ Sweeter Than Peaches (@KA_Raines)

For this week’s book hook, I thought I’d share an excerpt from The Infiltrator.

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is b7477-mfrw-book-hooks400.jpg

He entered the kitchen, finding it abandoned since dinner had technically wrapped up an hour ago. Food was left on the serving line for the returning groups and for people coming off their watch rotations. Only a single server and dishwasher remained, the latter of whom was currently out in the hall playing a rather boisterous game of poker. The remainder of the kitchen crew had already finished up and gone back to their respective rooms to enjoy the remainder of the evening or else to get ready for their watches.

He found her in the back by the freezer, standing on the tips of her toes and reaching for a bowl of peaches on a high shelf. He moved up behind her stealthily, barely brushing his body against her back as he reached up and plucked a peach from the bowl.

Keira jumped in alarm and wheeled around, one hand shooting to the base of her throat. “Jesus, you scared me.”

“Shouldn’t let your guard down—not even in here,” he admonished. “An’ I ain’t Jesus.” He took a bite from the peach, not bothering to put any distance between their bodies as he stared down at her wide eyes and parted lips. Lips that looked even sweeter than the peach. He wanted to take a bite, but he refrained. “Whatcha doin’ back here?”

“They were out of fresh fruit,” she said, swallowing noticeably. “I was making you a tray…and they only had the canned stuff left out there.”

He grunted. “Mighty thoughtful of ya.” He took another bite from the peach, the deliciousness exploding over his tongue as the juice drizzled down his chin.

They were staring at each other, the heated tension between them as thick as butter when Keira leaned up rather abruptly, her tongue darting out and tracing the trail of juice that had escaped his mouth. He growled at the raw, wet feeling of her tongue on his unshaven jaw, which elicited a jolt straight to his crotch. His hands going to her hips, he roughly hefted her up onto the countertop while squeezing her ass and stepping between her legs that instinctively splayed for him.

“You stayin’?” he growled, lips on her ear as he nipped her lobe—hard.

Keira gasped at the sweet pain, hands going around his back and working their way under his tee while her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. “Haven’t decided yet,” she whispered, a tremor in her voice, and it was obvious that it had taken her a moment to process what he was asking.

Her whole body trembled against his in clear anticipation, and Derrick growled again, overwhelmed by the idea that she was as desperate for him as he was for her, but he was conflicted. This couldn’t end well. He wanted her to stay, but he didn’t know why. He didn’t want to want her to stay, and if they did this it would fuck up his head even more. He couldn’t give her what she deserved; he simply didn’t have it in ‘im. And he wouldn’t use her to scratch an itch, either.

With a force of will he hadn’t realized he possessed, he took a half-step back, and her legs slid from around his waist, releasing him only reluctantly. She literally moaned in disappointment and bit her bottom lip.

Fuck. He had to leave. Now. ‘Cause if he didn’t, there was no going back. He was gonna fuck her right here on this countertop, and that would be that, consequences be damned.

Derrick picked up the abandoned tray of food on the counter next to her as she stared up at him with lust-clouded, confused eyes. Her chest was still heaving when she slid to the floor on noticeably shaky legs.

“Nah,” he growled, more certain of his words than he had been of anything in a long while. “Y’ain’t leavin’. Are ya?” He took another bite of the peach, turned around, and left her there staring after him with ill-disguised yearning. He didn’t know where this was going, and he didn’t know why he cared, but fuck if the woman hadn’t already fucked up his head. He was gonna eat, get himself off again, and then sleep for a goddamn week—and put off the inevitable for as long as he could.

Buy HERE ~ Only $2.99 and always FREE on Kindle Unlimited!

3d Hardcover on transparent

A virus has rendered humanity mostly extinct. Keira Starr is alone, staying alive by staying on the run, sleeping in empty gas stations and the trunks of cars long abandoned on the highway. The world is overrun by “Ghosts,” the mindless, bloodthirsty dead, but they are the least of her problems. She is being hunted by ragtag groups of ruthless men, independent contractors working for a mysterious human trafficking ring. When she is finally captured, she discovers that Derrick Caine, despite his gruff demeanor and appearance, may just have a different agenda altogether.

M/F, erotic romance, dystopian, post-apocalyptic, sci-fi/fantasy

Thanks for stopping by! I’d love to hear from you!

Kari

Powered by Linky Tools

Click here to enter your link and view this Linky Tools list…

#MFRWauthor ~ I Like Big Flaws (and I Cannot Lie)

MFRW blog prompt: “As a reader, what attracts you most to a character?”

From literature to film, I am most intrigued by male characters who are psychologically damaged – yet not beyond redemption. I like the outcast or scoundrel who might be concealing a softer side (Han Solo, anyone?). I like complicated antiheroes capable of redemption (How about Anne Rice’s Lestat?). These men come in many different packages. They might be handsome and charming in the conventional way. Or they may hide behind snark to conceal their insecurities (Severus Snape?). No matter the genre or medium – novel, film, or TV – I want to see men who are imperfect and flawed, their facades concealing more than meets the eye.

As for women, make them strong, assertive, and confident. I want to see (or read about) The Walking Dead‘s Michonne kicking ass and getting the hero – even if the ass-kicking itself is metaphorical rather than literal – or Katniss Everdeen with with her bow. This desire is why I wrote so many strong female characters into my debut novel, The Infiltrator – probably the only female-dominated zombie novel ever written – while I portrayed male characters as more prone to emoting than the women. I wanted it to bend gender stereotypes (as well as bend genres). Also, I simply enjoy writing about broken, fucked-up men.

My character preferences for damaged men and strong women can be seen in my current WIP as well, which is also a dystopian romance featuring two empaths whose mental battles are sexually charged. For this novel I chose to use several tropes including fated mates and enemies to lovers – and even a couple I might have made up (is fuck or die a thing?).

Excerpt from my as-yet-untitled WIP:

She closed her eyes. Centered the surging energy. Felt the pressure behind her eyes once more, imagined it flowing outward. She could almost see it. See where she needed to center it. She focused on his mind. Felt his resistance, as solid as a steel wall. All she needed was a crack, a small way in, then all she had to do was squeeze

She screamed at the effort, and for an instant—just an instant—she felt his barrier bow beneath her assault. With a heave, she pushed once more, felt the fissure form. And then she was in. Just as she concentrated the energy and began to squeeze, she was bombarded by images: A small boy with dark hair crouched in a corner. And a woman crying—

Jahnna was yanked up suddenly by her wrists. Her eyes snapped open as she was shoved violently out of his mind once more, the connection severed. He was angry, but he was also…she didn’t know what he was. She knew he could hurt her if he wanted to, but he was just staring at her, breathing heavily through his nose. Oddly, she thought he might kiss her. If he did, she would bite him—hard enough to make him bleed.

Thanks for stopping by! I’d love to hear from you! What are your thoughts? What kind of characters do you like to read about?

Powered by Linky Tools

Click here to enter your link and view this Linky Tools list…

#MFRWHooks – Derrick Gets Keira Wet (Excerpt)

When Derrick began to undress, Keira forgot to breathe. “What are you doin’?” she asked, laughing to cover up her sudden nervousness when his shirt fell next to his boots, and he reached for his belt buckle. She tried not to stare, truly, she did, but her hungry eyes drank in every scar that was revealed, every scattered tattoo, the coarse but sparse hairs on his chest that led a distinct trail down washboard abs.

Ordinarily, he was so painfully reserved that she was aghast that he was actually stripping in front of her. But, then, she’d witnessed his contradictory bold streak more than once.

“Goin’ for a swim,” he replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and she was a supreme dumbass. “What? You said it feels amazin’.” He pushed his jeans down his narrow hips and stepped out of them, leaving him clad only in boxer shorts. His legs were lean and strong like the rest of him, and she couldn’t help but admire them.

“Yeah, but—Derrick!” She laughed when he ran at the dock’s edge, tucking his legs into the classic cannonball position as he jumped and disappeared beneath the surface with a mighty splash. She was still laughing as she wiped the water from her eyes. Sure, it felt nice on her feet, but she couldn’t imagine actually swimming in it.

Her eyes skimmed the surface of the water as she waited for him to resurface, but, as the seconds ticked by and he had yet to make an appearance, she began to get nervous. She stood, dropping her pack and bow at her feet, preparing to go in after him as panic began to set in, when a sudden pounding noise below her caught her attention. Looking at her feet, she saw him gazing up at her through the slats. “You comin’ in, or what?” he asked as he swam to the side of the dock, his hands catching the edges to anchor himself in place.

She shook her head. “Asshole. You scared me.” Even as she said the words, however, she was struck by how carefree he seemed in that moment.

“Never said I weren’t. Don’t mean you can’t come in, though.”

She chewed the inside of her lip. Fuck it. Before she could talk herself out of it, she quickly stripped off her jacket before pulling her shirt over her head and shimmying out of her jeans. She didn’t look at him as she undressed, but she could feel the heat of his gaze as he soaked her up. She supposed she couldn’t begrudge him that, since she hadn’t bothered looking away as he undressed; she felt thankful, at least, that she’d worn a bra today. “This is all a ploy to get me naked, isn’t it?”

“Woman, if I wanted ta git you naked… I wouldn’t need a ploy.”

She shook her head and bit her lip, ignoring the heat that bloomed in her cheeks and between her legs in tandem. Once naked save for her plain white panty-and-bra set, Keira ran at the edge of the dock much as Derrick had, but, instead of doing a cannonball like he had, she dived in, her hands sluicing through the water as a shocking blast of iciness encased her. Remembering his words about Ghosts possibly being trapped on the floor of the lake, she kept close to the surface, flipping and kicking toward the murky sunlight before her head broke through.

She was still gasping from the shock of it and shivering mightily as she treaded water, eyes flashing toward the dock. Swiping the water from her eyes, she didn’t immediately see him, but she was no longer worried. On the contrary, she felt the stirrings of excitement, the adrenaline coursing through her veins as she swam for the dock, pulling one arm in front of the other. In high school, she had been on the school’s swim team. Not exactly Olympics material, but she’d always considered herself a strong swimmer, and it had been so long that the chilly water felt invigorating as she propelled herself fluidly forward.

She gasped in shock when a hand suddenly clamped around her ankle, dragging her beneath the surface once more, but she knew it wasn’t a Ghost: The grip was too strong, deliberate, the palm too fleshy. Nevertheless, she screamed, trying not to swallow a mouthful of water as she was yanked backwards and crashed into a warm body. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she clung to him instinctively, trying to stifle her automatic surge of panic when her head broke the surface for the second time.

Derrick was laughing as she coughed and sputtered. “You asshole,” she gasped, one hand pounding weakly against his chest.

“Seems t’be the theme o’the day,” he murmured once he finally stopped chuckling. “Calm down, woman—I gotcha.”

“I wouldn’t need calming if you hadn’t tried to drown me,” she grumbled, spitting her hair out of her face as she gazed up at him. Only at that moment did she realize how close he was, that she was literally wrapped around him. Her legs were straddling his narrow hips, her breasts smashed against his chest, and she flushed to realize that he was staring at her mouth.

“Wasn’t tryna drown ya—just gitcha a lil’ wet.” A sudden surge of warmth bloomed low in her belly at his words, and at the same moment he flushed, as if realizing what he’d said—but neither moved to disengage. On the contrary, they froze in unison while Keira forgot to breathe; they might have sunk to the bottom of the lake if Derrick hadn’t had have the presence of mind to keep treading water for them both.

She stared up at him, noting the clear hesitation on his face and feeling certain that it must mirror her own. Deciding to take the leap—and not allowing herself to think about it—she tilted her head up in clear invitation, stopping just shy of his mouth. She nearly cried in relief when he tilted downward just enough bridge the gap, his lips just brushing hers, so lightly she might have imagined it had her nerve endings not been on fire.

She held still with considerable effort, letting him take the lead as she sensed that any sudden movement on her part might halt him in his tracks. So slowly she barely registered the movement, he applied gentle pressure, his lips sliding over hers experimentally as Keira hummed her encouragement. His hand slid up her back, threading into her hair while his other braced against the side of her cheek, as if holding her in place, while he continued his gentle explorations.

When he hesitantly licked the seam of her lips, barely a prod of his tongue, she parted them, allowing him inside. As his tongue brushed against hers, he groaned into her mouth, and she tightened her grip on him with her legs in response, her own hands trailing down his bare chest, delighting in the feel of his warm flesh, in stark contrast to the icy lake water.

The kiss might have gained momentum from there; the passion had threatened to erupt between them for days, yet this felt different, even as the kiss itself lost its chasteness and became ever bolder. Still, this was decidedly sweeter than anything that had passed between them before, and she could tell that Derrick was deliberately holding back, not allowing this to develop into anything frenzied even as she sucked his tongue between her lips, the gesture absurdly erotic. His facial hair scratched the delicate skin of her cheek, the contrast somehow only serving to heighten the sensuality of the moment.

He broke the kiss with a grunt, his forehead landing against hers. “Keira,” he breathed, his voice ragged as he caught his breath. His erection was hot and heavy against her belly through the thin cotton of his shorts, but she followed his lead, sliding her fingertips up his smooth, broad shoulders once more, down his biceps, and trailing over his forearms until their fingers were intertwined.

“Yeah?” She opened her eyes to peer up at him through her lashes. She wanted him—she’d given up trying to fight it—but she would go at his pace.

“Nothin’.” He pecked her lips—once, twice, three times.

“No—what?” she said with a laugh, their fingers still intertwined at their sides, pulling back slightly to get a better look at his face. Her legs were still loosely wrapped around his waist, and she made no move to disengage.

“It’s just…” He ducked his head, and she realized that he was blushing furiously. “That was nice.” If possible, his face turned an even brighter hue. “I know. I’m fuckin’ lame. Never shoulda opened my damn mouth.”

She smiled up at him broadly, heart swelling to the brim with a sudden, intense affection for the man. She pulled one of his hands up between their bodies and pressed her lips to their clasped knuckles. “It was, wasn’t it? And you’re not lame, Caine. Not even close.”

Buy HERE ~ NOW $0.99 until 9/14 and always free on KU!

3d Hardcover on transparent

A virus has rendered humanity mostly extinct. Keira Starr is alone, staying alive by staying on the run, sleeping in empty gas stations and the trunks of cars long abandoned on the highway. The world is overrun by “Ghosts,” the mindless, bloodthirsty dead, but they are the least of her problems. She is being hunted by ragtag groups of ruthless men, independent contractors working for a mysterious human trafficking ring. When she is finally captured, she discovers that Derrick Caine, despite his gruff demeanor and appearance, may just have a different agenda altogether.

M/F, erotic romance, dystopian, post-apocalyptic, sci-fi/fantasy

Powered by Linky Tools

Click here to enter your link and view this Linky Tools list…

Bio

Hi, I’m Kari. I live in Longview, Texas with my children and cat. I have a passion for many things, including but not limited to red wine, horror movies, roller coasters, traveling, long walks on the beach, and pina colada. Oh, and getting caught in the rain. Naturally.

I realize that I’m a newcomer to the world of published fiction, but I’ve been a writer and avid reader since I first discovered my love of science fiction and all things Star Wars at the age of 11 or 12, a passion that evolved to encompass paranormal and horror in my teens when I found Stephen King and Anne Rice. Eventually, my tastes further grew to incorporate romance and erotica, and now my own writing is a strange hodgepodge of all the above-mentioned genres.

Despite having harbored a love of writing for so long, it took me a  long time to stop listening to the voice in my ear telling me to pursue something “practical” and do what I genuinely love. And then, of course, life happened. I joined the Navy shortly out of high school, and during that period, I did a lot of reading—I fell absolutely in love with the Harry Potter novels—but one thing I didn’t do a lot of was writing. After separating from active duty and getting married in 2006, I promptly began having children. I started writing again but didn’t attempt to publish anything. I experienced quite a bit of “success”—as embarrassing as it is to say now—as a Twilight fanfiction author, and that’s when I discovered J.R. Ward and the paranormal romance genre. Around the same time, I entered a writing contest judged by New York Times bestselling novelist Cassandra Clare, who chose my entry as a finalist.

I had just begun an original paranormal romance novel when, once again, life got in the way. I ended up divorced rather suddenly with two small children in tow, and I had to figure out how to start over. Since then, I’ve had other major life hurdles. I’ve gone back to school. Twice. First, I went to one of those vocational schools to obtain my medical assisting certification (I needed something fast). Then I pursued my BA in English from the University of Texas, almost a full twenty years after most people obtain their bachelor’s degrees. In the meantime, I’ve opted to remain single, worked to support my children as a medical assistant, and finally, years after my divorce, managed to complete a publishable novel. More often than not, I feel like Melissa McCarthy in Life of the Party, but that’s okay. I I have the satisfaction of knowing that I’ve pushed through on sheer determination.