Check out this new book by Isobelle Cate
Blurb:
Marcus
Theodoric Treagar is a sabretooth with a curse that has him traveling
through
time,
leaving a trail of dead bodies. Not only that, but as soon as he
falls in love, he is
wrenched
away from that period and returned to 16th century Venice. To save
the last
remaining
piece of his heart, he refuses to become involved again. Until
Paisley Halleran.
As
the daughter of the shifter chronicler, Paisley Halleran knows that
magick and the
paranormal
abound in Woodland Creek. With her adopted brother, Virgil Rowtag,
they
fight
for every shifter’s rights in the area. When Paisley comes face to
face with Marcus,who
has been arrested for a murder he does not remember committing, she
believes heis
innocent. Marcus, on the other hand, knows he has finally found the
woman trulymeant
for him. However, not everything is cut and dried. Paisley unearths
tragic secretsand
lies that link her to Marcus. Not only will it show her whether
Marcus is trulyinnocent
or guilty of the murders in Woodland Creek, it will also spell the
differencebetween
staying with Marcus because she wants to, or letting him go because
she has no
choice.
Sexcerpt
from Treagar’s Redemption:
Marcus
placed open mouth kisses against the pulse that beat erratically at
the
hollow
of her neck, teasing, nipping before trailing his tongue along her
collarbone down to her cleavage. He moved his head to suck and lick
one tight nipple, and then the other that almost made her come before
he rose up and dragged her jeans and panties off
her.
Paisley
couldn’t breathe. Her lungs seemed to want to burst with the
excitement that
coursed
through her veins. Anticipation coated her at the sight of the carnal
greed on
Marcus’
face as though she was going to be eaten alive. He gave a satisfied
groan when
he
looked at the wetness between her legs, wetness Paisley could feel
sliding down the
center
of her ass cheeks. Her gaze followed Marcus as he retreated from the
bed and
stood
in front of her. He was a powerful force, his aura of dominance
slamming against
her.
Her eyes followed the flat surface and valleys of his well-built
frame and her face
grew
hot at the sight of his arousal twitching. He looked at her, his
hunger palpable,
sexy,
dangerous.
It
was something she craved.
He
grinned at her. “Like what you see, cara?”
Her
eyes lifted to his. She smiled. “Yes.”
“Then
it’s yours, but first I need to eat.”
Disappointment
bit at the heels of Paisley’s desire. “Sure.” She eased up to
turn a
trifle,
embarrassed that she was nearly spread-eagle on the bed. “Let me
get your food
tray.”
Marcus’
hands suddenly gripped her ankles. “No, cara. What’s on the tray
is not
what
I will eat. I want what’s between your legs. Voglio il tua figa.”
“Sorry?”
“I
want your wet pussy.”
“Oh.”
Paisley’s breathing intensified when Marcus kneeled on the floor
and pulled her
to
the edge of the bed. He spread her legs and placed them on his
shoulders, then
nipped
her inner thighs gently before his tongue swiped at her.
“Ohhh…”
Her eyes closed in ecstasy, every nerve ending in her skin hyper
aware of
Marcus’
mouth. His growls and the sounds his tongue and mouth made as he
swiped
from
her hood to her crack brought her to dizzying heights of bliss. More
of her liquid
heat
flowed to sustain him and she cried out when Marcus used his thumb to
swirl her
clit,
while his tongue licked her opening. Then Marcus replaced his tongue
with two
fingers
inside her and took her nub inside his mouth, grazing his teeth
gently against it.
Paisley
fisted the sheets, her body rising and falling against his expert
fingers and
mouth.
As she felt her climax about to crest, she pressed her mound closer,
her hands
releasing
the blanket to hold on to Marcus’ head, urging him deeper. Her body
was as
tight
as a bowstring.
“So
delicious, cara.” He growled against her clit, causing Paisley to
arch her back.
The
combination of pleasure at Marcus eating her like the most delectable
fruit and the
soreness
of her arm did little to stop her impending orgasm. Suddenly, Marcus
let go of
her
clit and removed his fingers from inside her. He licked his fingers
with gusto, his
tongue
licking every bit of cream from her. Paisley had no chance to ask why
he stopped
when
she gasped to watch him delve back between her legs
“I
have a long tongue, cara. A very long tongue and I’ve not put it to
full use.”
Marcus
nipped at her inner thigh, trailing his tongue against her skin to
let her feel the
truth.
“Have you been fucked by a long tongue?”
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Bio:
Isobelle
Cate is a woman who wears different masks. Mother-writer,
wife-professional, scholar-novelist. Currently living in Manchester,
she has been drawn to the little known, the secret stories, about the
people and the nations: the English, the Irish, the Scots, the Welsh,
and those who are now part of these nations whatever their origins.
Her
vision and passion are fuelled by her interest and background in
history and paradoxically, shaped by growing up in a clan steeped in
lore, loyalty, and legend.
Isobelle
is intrigued by forces that simmer beneath the surface of these
cultures, the hidden passions, unsaid desires, and yearnings
unfulfilled.
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Isobelle:
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