(#1 of The Becoming series)
‘You got me back. You always said you would.’
Ash DeMorgan, graduate, orphan, ice maiden, has long since consigned the fairytale nightmares of a troubled childhood to the realm of fantastical childish imagination.
Now, lured back to Dublin, the scene of her tragic past, Ash encounters a city pulsing under the dangerous sexual influence of a new street drug the locals call Rave. Nothing is as it seems. Ash is about to discover that her nightmares are real, ancient Irish myths are larger than life and roaming the streets of the medieval city, and she has become the prey in their erotic hunt. A step back into her past is about to become a high adrenaline race for survival.
Connal Savage, outcast, assassin, and living, breathing hunk of ancient mythology, has lived a thousand years servicing a debt of revenge. Dead inside. Until he encounters his boss’s granddaughter, an infuriating woman who threatens to lead him to hell with all his good intentions, who manages to chip away at the hard encrusted defences of a lifetime spent at war and burrow herself deep into a part of him that hasn’t breathed for centuries. He is about to discover that when it comes down to the wire, when you’re bargaining with the Grim Reaper for the life of the one you love, you will do anything…
Book one of The Becoming series. A new voice in paranormal fantasy and romance.
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Planting her knees either side of his hips, she hovered, her hair falling to obscure her face as she fumbled around in his jeans pockets. A spasm of muscle moved under her palm and her eyes flicked to his face. Steel grey eyes stared up at her. Ash let out a little hiss and jerked her hands from his pockets.
‘You know, Beautiful, if you wanted to sit in my lap, you only had to ask nicely.’
The intruder was awake. And she was stupid. Had she expected him to just stay dead? Of course not. In horror movies, the crazy guy always came back. He looked a little stunned, though, and she played the advantage. She reached for his hands like she was reaching for a cobra. One wrong move and he could have her neck snapped like a chicken’s. Settling her weight into her ass, Ash pounced. In a strike that looked far easier in the movies, she pinned his wrists over his head.
She let herself be deluded that it was her super-strength keeping the giant man on her floor, but in the back of her mind she knew her attempts were futile. He must be three times her size, at least. His lips quirked in what looked like amusement. No burglar should look so kissable. The bastard was playing with her, letting her believe she had the upper hand, when in reality, he was probably planning to kill her.
‘I’m all for a little rough foreplay,’ he said huskily, ‘but don’t you think knocking me out defeats the purpose? Unless you’re into the seriously kinky shit … Is that it, Angel? You like it kinky?’ His tone was pure mischief. ‘You know I could have you on your back in a heartbeat, and I wouldn’t even break a sweat?’ he said.
‘Why don’t you then?’ she challenged.
‘Oh I’m going nowhere,’ he smirked. ‘I like the view from where I am. Just. Fine.’
Her furious gaze snapped to his, and the heat in his eyes had a flush crawling up her throat.
‘Care to tell me with whom I have the pleasure?’ he drawled, his lids hooding eyes that darkened perceptibly the longer he stared at her.
Ash glared back at him, hoping to burn a hole in his … do not think ridiculously handsome … face. Man breaks into her house, and she was the one being interrogated? The guy had some nerve. ‘Who the hell are you?’ she demanded.
‘I would be the one you just assaulted with a deadly -’ his gaze whipped to where the weapon lay abandoned on the floor, ‘-frying pan? God damn … Crazy girl.’ His lips pursed, and she knew he was fighting the urge to laugh out loud.
‘This crazy girl will happily use it again to bludgeon that smirk off your face,’ she retorted.
Their eyes connected and their wills locked horns. He gave in to his amusement and laughed in her face.
Oooohhhh … infuriating burglar! Ash shoved at him hard, his laughter flexing his arms in her grip until he slipped her restraint completely. Her hands collided with a wall of packed in muscle that belonged in mythology. Even through the fabric of his shirt, the man was clearly ripped. No Musclemania steroid bulk, but hard, chiselled power, the kind of muscle a tiger owned, honed by hunting and killing and … Probably not the best thread to follow there, girl. If he’s a killer, he isn’t going to start purring for you.
‘You can let me go, Angel,’ he said, ‘I promise not to bite.’
(#2 of The Becoming series)
The black lake beneath Dublin’s medieval city holds a secret. Imprisoned there for millennia, an ancient race of demi-gods have found a way to the surface and are preying on humans to feed their sexual appetites. Hunted to near-extinction, these half-men, half-beasts have been without a single female to breed a new generation. Until now.
All her life, Ashling DeMorgan feared her dreams. She kept her head buried in ancient mythology, because the real world seemed so much scarier. On returning to Dublin to settle her invalid grandmother’s affairs, Ash discovered a city plagued by the same wolf-like creatures that killed her mother. Their bite is like sexual heroin and Ash has been bitten. Now she is trapped in a waking nightmare, with the monster who ordered the death of the only man she’s ever loved. Made to doubt if she ever really knew the assassin-turned-guardian who stole her heart and gave his life for hers, Ash finds herself betrayed by her own changing body.
In a dangerous world of suspicion and divided loyalties, Ash must come to terms with what she is becoming. Worse still, her infuriatingly arrogant captor may just prove to be her most unlikely ally in what will become a life and death race for survival.
MacTire, king of a once formidable race, has lived his life in the shadow of a half-brother who took everything from him. Connal Savage seduced his mate and engineered a genocide that all but exterminated their species. Finally, he has a chance at retribution. Connal’s woman is his for the taking. But are the bonds of brotherhood so easily severed and are the ghosts of the past ever truly dead and buried, or will they come back to haunt him?
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‘Don’t go getting hearts in your eyes, Wolf-Boy. What happened between us back in the temple was nothing.’
He pursued her across the room. ‘That was not nothing.’
Defiance kicked her chin up, made her brandish the red paddle brush more firmly. She set her face into its cold mask. ‘Less than nothing. About as satisfying as a good sneeze. I should have known all that pumped-up muscle was compensating for something.’ Her eyes dipped to where his lower half was encased in studded brown leather, and she quirked him a pointed look. Her lips curled in a smirk as his expression clouded and his stance shifted. Displayed to his full advantage, the King really was ripped, but his arrogance, and the creepy dead wolf draping his broad shoulders, evoked disgust more than feminine appreciation.
‘You lie.’ Mac’s jaw twitched.
‘Did I touch a nerve, Mac? Wounded your little boy ego? You can’t even compete with your brother. And he’s dead.’ Steel laced the last word, fortified by her ire.
Mac’s jaw hinged open in a gape.
‘Nobody has ever said no to you, have they?’ she said. ‘You think it’s your God-given birthright to be handed everything you want on a platter. You’re nothing but a spoiled, over-privileged brat.’
She jerked something from the pocket fold of her dress and his eyes followed the motion. Rebelliously, she fastened the cord around her neck, the coin nestling at the base of her throat.
The dare was all in her eyes: Come on, take it from me.
‘Connal was never ruined,’ she told him. ‘His adversity made him stronger, a real man, and that scared the ever living crap out of you guys, didn’t it? That’s the real reason you killed him. Get this into your thick skull, Mac. I. Don’t. Want. You.’
Mac ran a hand down his bristled jaw and the handsome bastard had the nerve to look smug. ‘I think the lady doth protest too much,’ he laughed.
Her hands flew up, grabbing the air in front of him like she was going to wring his neck. ‘Oh my God! Your arrogance never fails to astound me,’ she hissed.
The frozen snarl of his wolf-scarf mashed into her chest a second before Mac’s lips descended on hers in a vicious kiss, possession bruising her mouth as she was hauled up against the wall of his muscle. He rode the iron rope of his erection to her belly and heat bloomed at the apex of her thighs.
Son of a bitch. Every time.
Becoming Blood (#3)
To be released December 2013
The writing duo of Jess and Paula met online through their mutual love of paranormal and urban fantasy romance. They sparked creatively and have been writing together for the past three years. Paula lives in Dublin, Ireland with her family. She set aside a career in medicine to raise her three children. Jess lives in Manchester, England with her mother and dog, Simi. When she isn’t writing up worlds with Paula, she’s a wedding planner for a large retail store.
signed paperback of book one in our series, Becoming Red, (international) and e-book copies of books one and two, Becoming Red and Becoming Bad
October 16th – 23rd