Paranormal Romance Excerpts

Paranormal Romance Excerpts

These paranormal romance excerpts are all ones I had permission to post when we were Books That Hook. I am just moving them to our new website. Enjoy!

Warning: Some content on this page may not be suitable for readers under the age of 18.

 


Excerpt from EDEN’S DELIVERANCE by Rhenna Morgan

Warning: adult content. Click the button below if you are over 18 to read the excerpt.

Warmth and a soft tickle skated along Brenna’s jawline. Lips, the same full, delicious ones she’d craved since Ludan had kissed her, the scruff of his beard leaving the same unforgettable impact as his mouth. His wavy hair slid through her fingers, a weighted silk that teased her forearms. He slanted his mouth across hers and licked inside.
Perfect. The slide of his tongue, his taste, the way he groaned into the kiss and sent perfect trills coursing down her spine. Nothing on earth was better.
He lifted his head. His ice-blue eyes glowed with need and so much passion it resonated in her soul. “This is what you want.”
Odd. It was Ludan’s voice, but her own was superimposed with it. And it wasn’t a question, but a statement.
Candles surrounded them, and a scarlet satin comforter stretched beneath them.
Not real.
“This is what you want,” Ludan said again, ghosting his knuckles along her collarbone and slipping his fingers beneath the neckline of her nightshirt.
Her heart leapt at the touch, his caress only hinting in the direction of her breast, but drawing her nipples to hard points. “Yes.”
He smiled and lowered his gaze, a long lock of hair falling over his forehead. “So beautiful.”
Cool air assaulted her flesh, sending goose bumps along her torso. Her nightshirt was gone, whisked away by her dreams.
Inch by inch, he trailed his fingertips down her sternum, his expression so reverent and caring she was afraid to move.
He cupped one breast, and she arched into the contact, too overwhelmed with the sensation to do anything but close her eyes and surrender to its magic. She tightened her grip on the back of his head, urging him closer. “Ludan, please.” She didn’t know what it was she needed, only that she did, and badly.
“Shhh.” He dipped his head and smoothed his lips along the path his fingers had taken.
More.
Over and over, the word echoed through her head. Nothing else mattered except the feel of him against her. His weight, the warmth of his skin, and the safety of his arms. She closed her eyes and splayed her hands across his wide shoulders. So much strength. Power as rigidly contained as the man. “Ludan.”
One of his big hands cupped her shoulders, and his lips disappeared.
She squeezed her eyes and willed them back. “Ludan, please.”
He spoke again, but this time it was different. Farther away and muffled. “Brenna.”
No.
She rolled her head back and forth on the pillow. No, no, no. She couldn’t lose him. Not again. She hadn’t done anything wrong this time. Had she?
The hand at her shoulder tightened. “Brenna, wake up.”
Heat registered beside her. Not the kind from her dream, but real. Tangible, deliciously masculine heat and muscle.
Her eyes snapped open.
Ludan lay propped on one elbow beside her, the other hand holding her shoulder as she’d felt in her dream. In the daylight, his form was intimidating, but in the night’s shadows, he was downright scary. “You okay?”
Not really. Sweat misted her skin, and her heart jack-rabbited in an out-of-control rhythm. The covers were too heavy, pressing against her tight breasts. She shifted her legs and nearly moaned at the throbbing pulse between them. “I’m fine.”
The comment earned her a sharp frown. He relinquished his hold and leaned back far enough that the bay’s moonlight brought him out of shadow. At some point after she’d fallen asleep, he’d removed his T-shirt, leaving his perfect body on prime display. “You didn’t sound fine.”
She pushed upright and leaned against the headboard, careful to hide her aching nipples with the sheet. Looking at him only made the ache worse. In that moment, she’d give a lot to let her fingers have free rein. “It was just a dream,” she whispered.
He stared at her, then lowered his gaze to her clenched fists in the sheets. “You’re afraid.”
“No.” It came out too fast, and his eyes snapped to hers. “I mean, it was an intense dream, but not something I’m afraid of.”
An odd look flittered across his face, caution or suspicion. “Tell me.”
This is what you want.
Clearly, her subconscious wasn’t in the mood to mess around. And while she’d happily go there in dreams every night, she wasn’t so sure Ludan would appreciate the concept of them together as much as she did. Especially after what had happened last time.
“I…” What could she say? “I’m not sure it’s something you’d want to hear. It was personal.”
His eyes narrowed. “Personal, as in…”
“Personal.” She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. “It was about the two of us.”
His head snapped back, and his breathing accelerated. He clenched the sheet at his waist, and his nostrils flared. “What about us?”
A strange yet not unpleasant sensation swirled low in her belly, and the pulse between her legs ramped to blistering demand. She could keep the dream to herself. Never say a thing and let it slide.
Or she could take a chance.
She licked her lower lip. “We were intimate.”

Excerpt from “WHEN IRISH EYES ARE HAUNTING” by Heather Graham

“You’re right; we’ve just arrived,” Rocky told Devin softly, his words bringing her back from her thoughts. They were both seated cross-legged on the soft, rich green grass of the lawn area that surrounded the pit and the grating. Rocky took her hands, his eyes on Gary across the rising yellow flames of the fire between them. “And,” he added, lowering his voice still further, “this is an excellent way for me to begin, to understand the lay of the land, so to speak.” He hugged her more tightly to him, as if he was aware of the chill she’d felt earlier when looking up at the walls.

He was aware, of course. He was Rocky, intuitive—and much better at this than she, much more experienced.

“So then tonight,” Gary announced, “eh, you’ve learned about the Tuatha Dé Danann, the great race of Irish supernatural kings and queens, gods and goddesses, if you will, those of the distant past, revered ’til the coming of Christianity! Ye’ve learned of Dearg-Due—an Irish female vampire known long before Bram Stoker—an Irishman, I might add—created Dracula. We’ve talked about our Irish headless horseman—the Dullahan. Many more, and of course, those well-known, our leprechauns and our banshees! I’m now Gary the Ghost, signing off, wishing you sweet dreams—and reminding you, of course, that gratuities are not at all necessary, but deeply appreciated.”

“There’s a man worthy of gratuities,” Rocky said, coming to his feet and reaching down a hand to help Devin up to hers. He pulled her into his arms. “Love it here. So far, it’s a great honeymoon,” he told her, green eyes dancing.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Devin promised.

Rocky laughed. “I mean it—I love it. Who gets to stay in the haunted master’s suite of a family-owned castle? Sit beneath a crystal moon and hear old-fashioned storytelling in such atmospheric conditions? Then again, who gets to bathe in a great old claw-foot tub like the one up in our room? Okay, maybe they have those other places, but it’s pretty cool looking, don’t you think?”

Devin grinned. “Definitely. Yes, we’ll put that on the evening’s agenda.”

 

Excerpt from THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE VAMPIRE by Sara Humphreys

Trixie couldn’t remember the last time she went to a little girl’s birthday party but it certainly wasn’t since becoming a vampire.

Olivia and Doug might have been two of the world’s most powerful vampires, but they had also become the first vampire parents in recorded history. Today was their daughter Emily’s second birthday and they were throwing her a big old party, complete with birthday cake and balloons.

Trixie had gone back and forth all day long about whether or not to attend.

Being around little Emily was bittersweet on a regular day and the birthday celebration would only heighten Trixie’s struggle. But choosing not to go would have been selfish. Trixie’s personal drama wasn’t Emily’s fault, and she didn’t want to disappoint the adorable little redheaded cherub. Not only that, Emily was Olivia’s daughter and since Olivia was Trixie’s maker, that made her family.

Not showing up would have been rotten.

Olivia would have understood if Trixie bailed out; she knew her better than anyone else. But Olivia’s Bloodmate, Doug, wouldn’t understand her absence from such a celebrated event. Neither would the other members of the coven.

Nope. Trixie decided to do what she always did. She’d put on a smile, make a wise-ass comment or two, and act like nothing and nobody bothered her.

A familiar voice pulled her from her thoughts as she strode down the stone hallways of the Presidium’s underground facility, buried deep beneath Fort Tryon Park and The Cloisters in New York City, “Well, smack my ass and call me Sally.”

The deep southern drawl echoed around her, stopping Trixie dead in her tracks. A shiver of lust whispered beneath her skin as it usually did whenever he was nearby, but she swiftly shoved it aside.

“Okay, Sally.” Trixie rolled her shoulder and fought the buzz of attraction. “But you can smack your own ass.”

“What’s the matter, darlin’?” The rumbling baritone of his voice soaked with that southern twang, drifted over her shoulder but she didn’t spare him a glance. Trixie continued toward Olivia and Doug’s apartment door, forcing herself to put one foot in front of the other. “Don’t I even get a hello?”

“Hello, Dakota,” she said, with a roll of her eyes.

Coming to this little gathering for Emily was difficult enough and his arrival only ratcheted her anxiety up a notch. Damn it. Why wasn’t he out on patrol? Over the past few months, the cocky and admittedly gorgeous sentry, had become more and more present in her little corner of the universe.

Trixie fiddled with the box in her hands, the one she’d wrapped carefully with the pink and white skull and crossbones paper. She didn’t even bother to put a card with it. Everyone would know who’d brought it. She was the only coven member with bright pink hair and a penchant for skulls and crossbones, after all.

“That your present for little Emily?” He asked. “You wrapped it real nice.”

He got closer by the second.

“No,” Trixie snorted. “I just like carrying around a gift wrapped box for the hell of it. You know, for shits and giggles.”

She was being a snot but she couldn’t help herself.

Trixie kept her gaze pinned to the mammoth mahogany door at the end of the hallway and tried not to notice that he’d sidled up next to her, his stride matching hers.

Dakota Shelton, the newest sentry for the Presidium, the vampire government, was not an easy man to ignore.

His six foot two inch broad shouldered frame towered over her easily but there was something else about him that set her on edge. It was the way he carried himself. He moved effortlessly and casually, as if he was just the good-old boy from Texas he claimed to be.

But Trixie knew better.

Excerpt from DEAL WITH THE DEVIL by Cynthia Eden

“Have you looked long enough?” he asked. His voice was a deep, dark rumble. Sexy.

She didn’t want to find anything about her jailer to be sexy. This attraction she had to him—it was odd. Unwanted.

But…there. Instinctive. Primal. Even her heart was already beating faster, and not just because she thought escape was at hand. Because he was close, and he stirred her.

Ella lowered her hand away from the glass. She was going to try logic with him first. She’d plead her case. Perhaps that tactic would work.

And perhaps not.

“You’ve had plenty of time to look at me,” Ella murmured. “I suppose I thought it was only fair for me to have the same opportunity.”

His jaw hardened. Just a small movement, but she saw it and Ella liked that she’d gotten to him.

“Did you think I didn’t know? I could feel it when you were close.” She motioned toward the mirror, then toward the video camera mounted near the ceiling. “I think this was all a bit…much, don’t you? I mean, I’m locked in. It’s not as if I can plot some terrible wickedness here.”

“You can plot it,” he allowed, “you just can’t carry it out.”

Ella took a step closer to him.

He offered her his hand. “It’s time we were officially introduced. My name is Eric Pate, and I’m in charge of the FBI’s Para Unit.”

She stared at his hand.

The Para Unit. There had been whispers about that group for years. Government agents who policed the creatures that went bump in the night. According to the gossip she’d heard, if a supernatural got on the wrong side of the Para Unit, well, that supernatural found his—or her—butt tossed into Purgatory.

Is Purgatory real?

Ella was very much afraid that it was.

“I don’t bite,” Eric murmured. His hand was still offered toward her.

“No.” Ella cleared her throat. “I think that’s my deal.” Because she didn’t want to show him her fear, she put her hand in his.

Heat.

Her breath caught in her throat. And, yes, she still breathed. Her heart still beat, she could still feel pain and pleasure. Despite the tales heard by so many, paranormals were still alive. They could hurt, they could feel…just like humans.

Ella had thought that the man before her was cold. Emotionless. After all, a darkness seemed to cling to him like a shroud, but when they touched—fire seemed to ignite in her hand. Her heart beat even faster, nearly racing out of control. Her breasts ached, as if wanting, needing a lover’s touch. And—

She tried to pull away.

But his hand tightened around hers. She could feel the strength in that hand.

“Is something wrong?”

Yes, you’re what’s wrong! The man before her was far from human, no matter what he wanted to pretend. And she should not be reacting to him that way. His scent wasn’t human. It was just slightly…off. Everything about him was, yet she was still feeling that pull between them.

Excerpt from RAGE/KILLIAN by Alexandra Ivy and Laura Wright

“Why did you steal my diary?”

Lucie blinked. Wow. That was not at all what she’d been expecting.

She didn’t want to talk about the childish stunt. Not because it’d been embarrassing for him. He’d only become more popular with the females after they’d decided his private musings about his lovers somehow enhanced their reputations as desirable mates. Idiots. But because it revealed how desperately obsessed she’d been.

And still was, for that matter.

Acutely aware of his deepening curiosity, she forced herself to shrug. “I was a brat,” she said in light tones.

“No.” His fingers brushed through her hair, his touch achingly tender. “You were hurt and striking out. I’m just not sure why I was singled out for public humiliation.”

“Because…” The words stuck in her throat.

“Lucie?”

She heaved a resigned sigh. He wasn’t going to let it go. Not until he coerced her into revealing the painful truth.

“Because I had a crush on you,” she grudgingly muttered.

The violet eyes shimmered with flecks of gold as the dawning sun splashed through the windows.

“A crush?”

She grimaced. She might as well confess the rest. If she were being honest, she probably owed him.

“Don’t act surprised. You had to sense that I watched you from the trees.”

“I thought you were plotting my death.”

“I was young and impressionable, and I was fascinated.” Her gaze ran over his lean, perfect features. “You were so gorgeous.”

“True.” He grunted as she elbowed him in the gut. “Ow.”

“But it was more than that,” she finished her confession. “You had a…kindness that I desperately wanted for myself.”

His teasing expression melted to one of regret, his fingers sliding over the curve of her shoulder.

“I would happily have been kind to you if you hadn’t bolted whenever I got near you,” he murmured.

She believed him. Rage might have been spoiled, but he’d never been deliberately cruel. His nature was to protect the weak and vulnerable.

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” she admitted with a wry smile. “So instead I struck out.”

His fingers drifted down her collarbone, his enticing musk scenting the air. “From now on, I have a better way for you to express your feelings for me.”

She instantly stiffened. It was one thing to confess her feelings when she’d been an idiotic youth. There was no way she was going to share the fact he’d never left her dreams.

“Who said I still have feelings for you?” she belligerently demanded, ignoring the fact that she was lying naked in his arms. “That was a long time ago.”

He chuckled, not fooled for a second. Damn him.


 

 

We hope you enjoyed these paranormal romance excerpts. To see more about paranormal romance on BTH Reviews you can visit the paranormal romance page. Or, if you’re in the mood to read more excerpts, you can see our other pages: suspense excerpts, fantasy excerpts, and science fiction excerpts.

 

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