Giveaways will go as follows:

• Monday July 5th: Crux in Digital
• Tuesday July 6th: Crux in Print
• Wednesday July 7th: Crossroads in Digital
• Thursday July 8th: Cry Sanctuary in Digital
• Friday July 9th: Sanctuary Lost in Digital
• Saturday July 10th: Sanctuary in Print
• Sunday July 11th: Sanctuary’s Price in Digital
• Monday July 12th: Sanctuary Unbound in Digital
• Tuesday: A Safe Harbor goes on sale!

Today’s prize is Sanctuary Lost in ebook format!

If there’s one thing that Brynn Adler hates, it’s feeling helpless and vulnerable in unfamiliar territory. Three weeks ago, life tossed her into a just such a world. A world of werewolves she never knew existed-until she found out her sister is one of them.

Now all he has to do is let her go.

For your chance to win a digital copy of Sanctuary Lost leave a comment below. Winner announced tomorrow. Winner must return to claim their prize or a new winner will be drawn on July 13th.

Since I’m excited about that, I thought I’d do an extra long Saturday excerpt today… the first 2 chapters of Cry Sanctuary! 

“Sanctuary” by Moira Rogers

Read An Excerpt Online
Genre: Paranormal Romance

ISBN: 978-1-60504-569-6
Length: 296 Pages
Price: 15.00
Publication Date: April 6, 2010
Cover art by Tuesday Dube

The only way to win is to lose your heart…

Cry Sanctuary
Keith Winston has come home to Montana to find peace. Instead, the veteran warrior finds himself fighting pressure to become the alpha’s right hand. His attraction to a new wolf on the run sucks him into yet another battle between his instincts and his heart.

Abigail Adler knew nothing about werewolves—until she became one. Red Rock is her only refuge, but she chafes under its rigid rules. Except when it comes to submitting to the passion Keith stirs in her body. With her sister in danger, though, they will both have to risk breaking all the rules.

Sanctuary Lost
Brynn Adler hates feeling helpless and vulnerable. But that’s right where she is…in a world of werewolves. Worse, her sister Abigail is one of them. The pack wants to send her packing, yet she’s unwilling to leave—her sister, or the one man who makes her forget her life is falling apart.

Joe Mitchell knew getting involved with Brynn was a bad idea. A supernatural war is no place for a human, and he’s not about to let her make a decision that will bring pain and regret. Now all he has to do is let her go.

Warning: Contains hot, primal werewolf sex, violence, explosions, heroines kicking a little ass, and sexual power games with a couple of badass ex-Special Forces alphas.

An excerpt from

Sanctuary

Copyright © 2010 Moira Rogers
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication

* * *

Chapter One

Keith’s alpha rocked back in his chair and watched the harried-looking man and his young daughter walk out the back door of the bar. Then he cast a weary glance at Keith. “It’s different now. Since you left, I mean. Shit like this happens all the time.”

He’d gathered as much, but hearing Gavin say it somehow made the situation more real, more desperate. “Maybe we shouldn’t have gone out into the world. Humans are a lot more cruel than we are.”

Gavin snorted and let his chair legs hit the floor with a thump. “I wish I could blame it on that. If the alphas were doing their jobs, it wouldn’t matter.” He reached out for his beer and drew a hand through his graying hair. “But they’re not just letting too much slide. They’re abusing the power.”

Keith turned a chair around and sank into it, folding his arms across the back. “Maybe the alphas have been corrupted by the human way. Take what you want and terrify anyone who tries to stop you.”

His alpha just shrugged. “What’s done is done. It’s up to the Lorekeepers now, unless we want to go out, guns blazing, and take over the world.” A tiny smile curled the edge of his mouth. “Sammie tells me I’m too old for that shit. And she’s right. War is for young men.”

War isn’t for anyone. Keith lifted a hand to rub at his chin, the rough stubble under his fingers reminding him he needed to shave. “Then I guess I’m not young anymore, because five years of it made me pretty damn tired.”

Gavin finished his beer and flashed him a knowing look. “Does that mean you’re going to stick around for a while? Maybe settle down?”

Maybe find a woman? Gavin didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to. Not when Keith had heard some variation on the refrain a hundred times. The past is past, or Kelly wouldn’t want you to be alone, or the more damning, You have a duty as a dominant.

That last one was what had finally driven him overseas, driven him to spend five years as a soldier in the battle between werewolves and wizards, where his only duty was fighting. He did have a duty as a dominant werewolf, one to guide and shelter and teach. A duty to protect. A duty that comes with too many damn strings.

“Hey, forget I said anything.” Gavin didn’t look the least bit sorry as he returned Keith’s steady gaze. “I don’t make people do things they don’t want to do, remember?”

“Yeah. I know.” Keith changed the subject. “That guy and his kid going to stay in the motel?”

He nodded. “I’ve granted them sanctuary until they can find a safe place to relocate. They can’t go back to Coeur d’Alene, not while that bastard alpha’s still in charge over there.” Gavin tapped his chin. “Who do we know up in British Columbia?”

“Manuel. We should send them to Manuel.” The voice came from the doorway to the back office, and it brought Keith to his feet in an instinctive gesture of respect. Though tall and extremely fit, the woman who stood there might not have seemed intimidating to the mundane eye, but her power swept through the room like a warm breeze and raised the hair on the back of his neck.

Samantha Hamilton walked in, her eyes focused on her husband alone. There were times when even being in the same room as the alpha pair made Keith feel vaguely voyeuristic, and this was one of them. Sam crossed the floor, a walkie-talkie in one hand, and the power that flowed with her found a focus, an answering echo in Gavin. For a brief moment, he could almost feel their emotions, taste the depth of their love in the energy that sparked between them.

Gavin frowned. “Is something wrong?”

Distracted by the magic, Keith hadn’t noticed the expression on Sam’s face. She looked worried, tense. A bad sign for a woman as hard as nails and afraid of next to nothing. She thumped the walkie down on the table and hooked a chair with her foot. “Yeah. Just got a call. Two kids left Helena on their way here, and Alan Matthews is apparently pissed enough at losing his newest girl that he’s sent men after them. Into our territory.”

Her husband bristled as he rose. “He wouldn’t.” It was a blatant challenge, one Keith knew Gavin couldn’t let slide. “Of course he would. Impertinent idiot.” He turned sharp blue eyes toward Keith. “Feel up to it?”

Of all the duties expected of him, this was the only one he felt capable of handling anymore. Keith checked both of his pistols before snapping them into their holsters. He nodded shortly as he shrugged into his shoulder rig. “Always. How far out do you think the kids are?”

Sam slid the walkie-talkie across the table to him. “They should have been here by now. They had a head start, and Justine said Alan didn’t realize they’d slipped out. The girl’s newly changed, one of Alan’s special picks.” Her lips twisted into a disgusted snarl, one Keith had to fight not to echo. “The boy’s one of Alan’s little whipping boys. No one thought he’d have the guts to try to get her out, I guess, even though she’s his friend. But he’s not strong enough to protect himself or her.”

“Get them here, Keith.” Gavin’s words were soft, but an unmistakable order. “Do what you have to do.”

* * *

For the seventh time in as many minutes, Abigail Adler checked her cell phone’s display. “Still no service.”

“I told you.” Dylan grunted as he tried to wrestle the blown tire off his car. “I don’t think you can use cell phones up here. Even if you got reception, the magic they use to keep humans out would screw it all up.” He spoke calmly, but the tension in his voice provoked a reaction she didn’t understand.

Abby took a deep breath and distracted herself by counting the lug nuts lying in the upturned hubcap. Finally, when she had her frustration under control, she spoke again. “Does anyone know where we are?” Do you know, Dylan? Please say yes.

The tension grew worse, prickling tangibly against her skin. “I told someone we were coming, but I didn’t exactly have time to call ahead and make hotel reservations, Abby.”

“I know.” She closed her eyes and leaned against the side of the car. “I know this wasn’t easy for you.” He’d put his life on the line to get her out of Helena, defying his alpha. It was something she could still barely wrap her brain around. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” he responded, his voice almost harsh. “It’s my damn fault you’re in this situation. My fault you’re—” He wrenched the tire free and sent it skittering back down the road in a show of temper and inhuman strength that would have shocked her a few weeks ago. “Damn it, I should have protected you before it happened.”

She closed her eyes again and tried to calm her pounding heart. “It’s not your fault.” He couldn’t have helped what happened. He couldn’t have stopped it.

Only a month earlier, Abby had lived a quiet life. She’d had work and family and friends, and she’d known nothing of Dylan’s secret. In the years they’d been friends, she’d known him as a funny, sensitive, compassionate man.

She hadn’t known Dylan Gennaro was a werewolf.

She’d met Alan Matthews one night at a restaurant. Dylan had gone out with Abby and a group of friends, and Alan had come over to the table. He was tall, blond and gorgeous, and she’d been mildly flattered by the attention he’d shown her that evening. Only Dylan’s obvious discomfort had kept her from accepting the date he offered.

Then, two nights later, something attacked her in the parking lot outside her apartment building, and her world exploded.

She wanted to scream at the injustice of it. Instead, she helped Dylan roll the spare tire into place and lift it onto the axle. “It’s not your fault,” she repeated. She touched his shoulder lightly.

He stiffened under her touch, and she knew he was fighting not to shrug her hand away. He’d been drowning in guilt for weeks now, choking himself with it as he struggled to help her adapt to the life that had been thrust upon her.

The hardest part had been watching his reactions change, as if some instinct that had lain dormant while she was nothing but human had shoved its way to the surface. He acted antsy whenever she got too close, and withdrew when she touched him. Their easy, open friendship was gone.

Dylan focused on the spare tire and said nothing until he had it fixed into place. The line of his jaw tightened as he took a breath. “Hand me the lug nuts?”

She wiped her palms on her jeans and gathered them with both hands. “Have you ever been to Red Rock before?”

“No.” The word came out short and rough. “Alan would have killed me. Even talking about Gavin Hamilton is treason, as far as he’s concerned.”

She handed him the first lug nut. “Because Hamilton takes people in?”

“Yeah. Because he’s fighting for the old ways.”

He’d tried to explain it to her before, but it hadn’t made much sense. She opened her mouth to question him, but a faint noise tickled her ears. A car or a truck was somewhere down the road and coming closer. “Dylan—”

He was already on his feet. “Do you know how to use a gun?”

“No.” The thought that Dylan did shocked her. “I-I can try.”

Dylan strode around the side of the car and reached through the passenger window to open his glove compartment. He pulled out a small, compact gun, and the ease with which he handled it alarmed her even more. “This is the safety.” He showed her how to switch it off. “If someone gets close to you, point and squeeze the trigger. I’m going to deal with whoever’s in that car, and you’re going to run. If anyone comes after you, do your best to shoot them.”

Something inside her balked at running, wanted to stand and fight, though she didn’t know how. “What about you?” she demanded, her teeth nearly chattering despite the warm evening air.

He didn’t say anything, but the bleak look in his eyes made words unnecessary. Dylan didn’t expect to survive the confrontation. He recognized her sudden understanding and turned away, his gaze going to the road behind them. “I mean it, Abby. You run. The longer you can stay away from them, the better the chances someone’ll come from town and find you.”

“No.” She couldn’t just leave him. “Dylan, that’s crazy. We can—”

He whipped back around, and she saw the wolf in his eyes as he curled his fingers around her shoulders. He stood only an inch or two taller than she, but the frantic energy vibrating off of him made him seem more intimidating. “Do you want to join Alan’s little harem? He shares his women, you know. Gives them out as rewards. He probably gave one to Chuck for turning you. And I’m dead either way.”

Abby sucked in a ragged breath and nodded, already backing away. “Be careful.” Before she could change her mind, she took off down the shallow embankment by the road.

She ran as fast as she dared. The sun had barely dropped beneath the horizon and the moon hung large overhead, nearly full, but the dense trees blocked the light. She could see, but she wasn’t used to her newly keen senses. The forest looked odd, eerie, and her heart pounded with fear.

No. Another emotion rose up to overwhelm her terror.

Rage.

She skidded to a stop, her shoes slipping and crunching on dry pine needles. She couldn’t leave Dylan to die, no matter what he’d said. The gun lay heavy in her hand, and she stared down at it. Even if she couldn’t save herself or Dylan, she wouldn’t have to go with them.

She had a way out.

She tried to be quiet as she headed back to the car, letting her nose guide her when her sense of direction failed. She smelled car exhaust, sweat…

And blood.

The men who had caught up to them weren’t bothering to be quiet. They filled the night with their laughter, with Dylan’s muffled grunts of pain. She heard the sick sound of fists against flesh, and Dylan roared. Someone laughed, and she drew close enough for their words to carry to her through the trees.

“If you wanted a bitch so bad, you should have asked your alpha. Might have been hard to find one pathetic enough to bend over for you, but he would have at least looked.”

Their laughter masked her approach. It was clear that, no matter their plans for her, they’d been given carte blanche to hurt Dylan. No, stupid, she berated herself silently. Not hurt.

Kill.

Abby walked toward them, the gun in her outstretched hand. “Let him go.”

Dylan groaned in protest and forced himself to his knees. “Run, Abby—” A booted foot crashed into his chin, knocking him back to the ground.

The owner of the foot turned to grin at Abby. Tall and blond, his blue eyes held nothing but amused condescension as his gaze swept over her, barely pausing at the gun. “Oh, you’re feisty.” He turned his head and spit on the ground next to Dylan’s head. “Too good for the likes of you, Gennaro.”

She squeezed the trigger and fired.

The gun jerked in her hand and she flinched back. One of the other men swore and jumped to the side, but the ringleader just laughed. “Come on. Put the gun down before you hurt yourself, sweetheart. We’ll take good care of you.”

She ignored him and tried to aim again. Her second shot went just as wide, and this time all three of them laughed.

The laughter cut short when another shot rang out and the blond man’s head snapped back. Abby registered nothing more than the fact she hadn’t pulled the trigger before the man hit the ground, a bullet hole between his eyes.

Pandemonium erupted and was silenced just as quickly as the mysterious shooter took down the two remaining men, one with a bullet to the chest, and the other with one to the gut.

Abby didn’t question it, didn’t think. She rushed forward and grabbed Dylan by the shirt. “Stand up,” she demanded. “Dammit, Dylan—” She managed to drag him halfway behind the car’s bumper, instinctively cutting them off from the general direction of the shots.

The man with the stomach wound curled a hand around her ankle, his grip hard enough to be painful. He yanked at her leg in spine-jarring jerks, trying to drag her back out into the open. She kicked at him and recoiled with a shriek when a fourth shot sounded and blood exploded from his head.

Dylan had gotten to his knees somehow, and he pulled the gun from her hand and tried to drag her back behind him, as if to shield her from whoever had shot their attackers. A crunch of gravel from the other side of the road snapped his head around, and he raised the gun in a hand that shook so badly Abby doubted he’d be able to fire, much less hit anything.

The man who walked toward them looked dangerous even before his power hit them in a scalding wave, the strength of it like nothing she’d ever experienced. She’d learned to recognize the feeling of another werewolf from extended contact with Dylan, but her friend’s energy was like soft sunlight against her skin, warm and a little tingly, but easily ignored.

The large man who stopped a few paces away was something else entirely. Putting aside the energy that singed the air around him, he was physically imposing. His tight T-shirt emphasized his wide shoulders and strong muscles, and the dark leather shoulder rig that cut across the white fabric had holsters for two guns. One was empty, the weapon held easily at his side as he surveyed the two dead attackers and one survivor. Everything about him was dark—his hair, eyes, even the fierce expression he wore.

That expression didn’t change when he looked at Dylan and found him pointing the gun at him. “You’re okay now. Put the gun down.”

Dylan’s shoulders sagged in what might have been relief, and he lowered the weapon obediently.

The man’s gaze moved to Abby, and his face softened a little. “You okay?”

The human part of her—the part that had just watched him shoot three men—wanted to run, hide. The rest of her wanted to cling to the power that poured off him. “I’m all right.” She held his gaze for a moment, then lowered her eyes. When she looked back, he was still watching her. “Who are you?”

Dylan answered. “He’s one of Hamilton’s enforcers.” Her friend’s voice shook, though she wasn’t sure if it was with pain or relief. “He’s safe. We’re safe.”

“Keith.” It was so short and abrupt she didn’t realize at first that it was meant to be an introduction. Keith holstered his gun and moved to the third man, the one still whimpering in pain. He nudged the man’s body over with his foot and studied him appraisingly.

The man tried to speak, but managed only incoherent moans. Abby took a deep breath. “Will he make it?”

“Probably.” Keith leaned down and searched the man with an ease that looked practiced. He pulled a cell phone from one pocket and a gun from an ankle holster. He absently checked the gun, set it on top of the car, and crushed the cell phone under one booted heel. “If he does, he can drag himself home and tell them what happens when you cross our borders to hurt someone looking for sanctuary.”

Dylan dragged in a pained breath and braced a hand against the back bumper of the car as he tried to stand. “Alan Matthews had someone attack her. He wants her, and he’s not going to just let her go.”

“Dylan.” The word came out more sharply than she intended, and she looped his arm around her shoulders to help him. “We can talk about it later.”

Keith’s dark gaze flicked back and forth between them before settling on Dylan. “Can you walk back to my Jeep, or do you need to wait here?”

“I can walk,” Dylan said, his voice stubborn. “I want to get Abby somewhere safe.”

“She is somewhere safe,” came the calm reply, and Keith smiled a little as he reached for the gun he’d set on top of the car. He checked it again and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans. “She’s with me.”

Abby fought a shiver as she glanced at Keith. Judging from the way he’d dealt with Matthews’ men, he’d have no problem with whatever else they might face. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Two

Abby straightened her shoulders and forced her gaze up from the floor. The pleasant-looking older man behind the desk radiated authority, as did the woman at his side, and her instincts demanded she show deference. Submission.

Then the man smiled. “You must be Abigail. I’m Gavin Hamilton.”

She cleared her throat. “Hello. Thank you for seeing us.”

He waved a hand and leaned back in his chair. “Any problems, Keith?”

Keith shook his head. “I already called Cindy. She’s coming here to check out the boy.” The look he cast Dylan was slightly reproachful, but it held a bit of respect too. The kind she’d never seen any werewolf give him before.

Dylan had dug in his heels and refused to leave her side. He stood next to her, shaking a little with the effort, and flatly ignored Keith.

The woman seated next to Gavin snorted loudly and leaned forward. “Sit your ass down in a chair, Dylan Gennaro, or I’m going to put you in one. If you think you’re making Abigail feel better by dripping blood on the floor next to her, you’re dumber than most men.”

Abby helped him to the chair Keith dragged forward. “Thank you,” she murmured. Keith’s face remained impassive as he nodded, and she averted her gaze, once again meeting the alpha’s eyes. “Dylan said Matthews wouldn’t give up. I don’t want to put anyone in danger, but my sister, Brynn, is still in Helena. If someone can help me make arrangements, we can go to our brother’s place in California.”

Gavin scratched his chin. “Is that what you two want to do?”

“No.” Dylan wouldn’t look at her. Instead, he focused on Gavin. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying. She doesn’t understand what the next few months will be like for her. We need sanctuary.”

She glared at Dylan’s profile, irrational anger surging through her. “I made it before. I can—”

“How long have you been a werewolf?” Gavin’s quiet question cut through everything, and she fell silent. “A few months?”

Keith was watching her. Her gaze clashed with his again, and she looked away. “One. One month.”

“One change, then?”

She nodded.

Gavin glanced at his wife before asking, “How much do you remember?”

Abby knew he wouldn’t like the answer. She didn’t even like it, but she couldn’t lie, no matter how much the thought of staying in Red Rock scared her. “Not much.”

The woman—Samantha, someone had said—leaned forward once more. “No one wants to hold you hostage, Abigail, but there are things you need to learn before we can let you go out into the world. You say you don’t want to put anyone in danger. You’re not a danger to us, but you would be a danger to your brother and sister. To any human around you.”

She could offer no argument, no defense. “Yes, ma’am.”

Gavin stood. “You and Gennaro will stay here, at least until after the full moon. Sam can help you, you know, and it will give me a chance to make sure Alan Matthews has gotten the message about leaving you alone.” He walked around the desk and laid his hands on Abby’s shoulders. “I’m sorry this happened. The transformation is a gift, not a curse. It shouldn’t have been forced on you. But what’s done is done.”

What’s done is done. She nodded slowly. “Thank you.”

He inclined his head. “Keith. Take them to the motel. And let everyone know they’re under my protection.”

She couldn’t quite interpret the look that flashed between the two men. Keith’s face hardened slightly, his eyes growing tight, but after a moment he nodded. “What about Cindy?”

“Get them settled, and you can take the boy to see Cindy at her house.” His instructions given, he moved on to nod at Dylan. He grinned at them both. “I think you’ll like it here. We’re good people.”

Abby tried to return his smile. “Thank you again.”

“Don’t mention it. Go on with Keith, now, and we’ll see you two tomorrow.”

*

Keith gritted his teeth and struggled to keep his instincts in check as he steered Abigail and her erstwhile protector out the back door of the bar and across the dusty street to the motel that stretched out behind it.

The motel might have been designed to be a business but, as far as Keith knew, it had never actually been run as one. What had once housed members of visiting packs had turned into something far more somber—a place where refugees tried to put their lives back together.

The walkie-talkie on his belt crackled to life as he pushed open the door to the front office. Cindy’s voice, slightly distorted, spilled out. “Keith?”

He held the door open and reached for his belt as Abigail helped Dylan limp inside. “Yeah?”

“Sam just called. I’ve already got my bag and am on the way. You want me to come to you so you don’t have to move the new arrivals?”

Keith glanced at Dylan, who was insisting he was all right even as the girl bullied him into a chair. In the end he sat, forced by instincts he couldn’t control to yield to the power that burned so brightly inside of Abigail. Power she probably didn’t even realize she possessed.

Power that would have the unattached men in town circling like sharks before the week was out. Before the next day is out.

The thought made his voice a little rough as he jabbed at the button on his walkie. “Yeah, come over here,” he said, deliberately ignoring Gavin’s order. Bringing Dylan to Cindy’s office would involve leaving Abby unattended. Not that she was in any danger—any man in town would think twice before so much as offending her—but his instincts demanded that he stay. That he protect.

“Be there in a few.” Cindy seemed blithely unconcerned by his tense tone, or perhaps she was simply used to it.

He clipped the walkie back on his belt and turned to Dylan and Abigail. “You want two beds or one in your room?” It was a perfectly reasonable question, even a necessary one, and he tried not to hold his breath as he waited for the answer.

Her eyes widened. “We can rent two rooms. If they’re available, I mean. We’re not—” She cleared her throat and flushed. “We need separate rooms.”

Being satisfied was wrong on so many levels. He wanted to be able to smile and put them in separate rooms… But people will leave her alone if they think she’s with him, at least for a few days. Dylan’s presence wouldn’t dissuade the curious men of the pack for long. He was obviously incapable of handling her dominance, and Abigail would need someone strong enough to keep her safe during the Initiation months. Even though it was custom to let a woman make the choice about who that person would be, there was no rule that prevented interested men from trying to convince her.

And try, they would.

He met Dylan’s gaze and saw that same knowledge reflected back at him, and Dylan was the one who finally spoke. “It’s not about us being together. It’s just better for a few days if people think we are, Abby. I promise I’ll try to explain it all.”

She ignored him and stalked toward Keith, her jaw tight. “Your alpha said we’d be safe,” she reminded him. “Do I need to be taken for that to be true?”

Her energy spiked dangerously, a clear sign she was close to losing control, which could result in a painful and terrifying shift in forms. Still, he told her the truth. “No. You’ll be safe. If someone tried to force you, their life would be forfeit. That’s the alpha’s law.” And it would be his job to enforce that law, something she might be more comfortable not knowing.

“She doesn’t know about the Initiation and Guides,” Dylan interrupted, his voice weary. “She doesn’t know any of it.”

“What initiation?” she demanded, her dark ponytail swinging as she turned to look at Dylan. “What guide?”

The door opened, saving both men from having to answer. Keith stepped aside to let Cindy enter, automatically reaching out to take the heavy bag she carried.

The petite blonde glanced at Dylan and grimaced. “Hell. Who worked you over, sweetheart?” She started rolling up her sleeves and nodded toward the back office. “We can do it in there, probably. Or does he have a room?”

“I was going to put them in 104.” He leaned over the counter and located the correct key on the desk by the number burned into the small wooden disk attached. After a second, he picked up the key for 103 as well and offered it to Abby. “Here. You’ll be safe enough if you stay in the room. You’d be safe outside of it too, but if people don’t realize you don’t know what’s going on, they’re going to confuse you. You’ll probably think they’re hitting on you.”

Her hand shook a little as she accepted the key, but her voice was steady. “I won’t leave the room.” She avoided everyone’s eyes as she turned and walked out of the lobby.

Cindy watched her go and scratched the back of her head. “New?”

“Less than a month, and against her will.” Keith glanced over at Dylan. “How much does she know?”

“Just about nothing.” The young man stopped trying to keep up the brave facade now that Abby had left. He looked tired and hopeless, but the brittle, tense way he held himself made it clear he didn’t expect support or comfort.

Another thing Matthews should have to answer for. Keith closed the door and crouched down next to the chair. “Hey. You did a damn good job, getting her away. I know she doesn’t understand what you did, but I do.”

Cindy smiled gently as she prodded Dylan’s bruised jaw. “Took a couple, huh?” She pulled a penlight from her pocket and shone it in each eye in turn. “Pupils are reactive, but slightly uneven. Could be a concussion.” She straightened and arched an eyebrow at Keith. “He should probably stay at my place tonight. For observation.”

It was unnecessary, considering the healing ability of the average werewolf, and even more, unexpected. Cindy had plenty of reason to be wary of strange men in her house.

Dylan shook his head a little, his concern coming back. “Someone has to explain stuff to Abby.” But there was a thread of hope in his voice, even if he didn’t realize it. Hope that someone would take away the responsibility crushing him.

Cindy leaned down and met his gaze. “You did good. Let someone else handle things for a while. Right, Keith?”

He nodded. “I’ll tell Samantha, the alpha’s wife. She’ll be able to explain to Abby how things work, especially how they work here. She’ll do a better job than anyone else could.”

“Okay.” Dylan closed his eyes, and the anxious energy around him calmed almost at once, replaced by sheer exhaustion. “As long as she’s safe.”

“She is. You both are.” Cindy rubbed his shoulder and looked at Keith. “Help me get him out to my truck, okay?”

There was nothing to do but agree, so Keith rose to his feet and smiled wanly. “Let’s get you patched up.” I only wish taking care of your friend would be so easy.

*

Abby had thought a shower might help her jittery trembling, but nearly an hour under the erratic spray did nothing but shrivel her skin.

She found a robe hanging in the open closet and shivered into it, then climbed under the covers on the queen-sized bed. She stared at the silent, dark television screen as she rubbed a white towel over her hair.

Safe. She supposed she owed the Hamiltons a debt of gratitude, one she still didn’t quite understand. Judging from everyone’s behavior, what Dylan had done by defying his alpha and saving her was almost unheard of. Unthinkable. But if he hadn’t…

She shuddered. Discomfort shot through her, making her skin prickle. The same nervousness she’d thought to ease with her shower resurfaced, strengthened. It almost hurt, and she found herself panting for breath.

Abby closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing. In, out. In, out. A hot spike of pain twisted her belly, and she whimpered.

A heavy knock at the door startled her, and she slid halfway off the bed. Her knees would barely hold her, but she forced herself to walk across the room and look out the peephole.

Keith stood there, a concerned expression on his face. His gaze focused on the peephole, and he raised a hand. “I can help, Abby.” He spoke softly, but she easily heard him through the door. “Let me help you.”

She fumbled with the security chain and opened the door. “You can’t. I don’t even know what’s wrong with me.”

“I do.” Keith stepped through the door and kicked it shut with an absent gesture, his attention already focused entirely on her. He reached out a hand and held it a few inches away from her cheek. “The wolf is trying to escape.”

The desire to lay her cheek against his hand almost overwhelmed her, and she backed away from the door. “The moon won’t be full until this weekend.” Her legs hit the edge of the bed, and she sat, ignoring the yearning that flared within her.

“The moon forces the change,” he agreed, taking a step toward her. He dropped to his knees and slid his hands onto the bed on either side of her hips. “But the change doesn’t require the full moon. Until you learn control, strong emotions can bring her to the surface.”

“Oh.” The only strong emotion she felt at the moment involved finding out if his lower lip was as warm and soft as it looked. She realized she was staring, drew in a sharp breath and met his gaze. “What can you do?”

Keith closed his eyes, and in the next second, warmth surrounded her. Power built slowly in the room, an odd energy that tickled her skin and raised goose bumps on her arms. Something inside her reacted to it at once, and she leaned closer to him.

The energy wrapped around her, calming the tension in her belly. A small noise escaped her as she nestled her face in his neck and inhaled his scent, so different from her own and yet the same.

A soft tug of his hands brought her off the bed and into his lap. He slipped his fingers into her hair and held her face to his neck. “That’s right,” he whispered. “That’s right, Abigail. You can feel it, can’t you?”

She could feel him, and that was all that mattered. Abby arched against Keith and clutched his shirt, moaning her loss when he stopped murmuring in her ear. He was powerful, strong. She growled lightly and lifted her face to bite his jaw. I need you.

He stiffened, but didn’t pull away. He smoothed his hand over her hair and down her back. “You’re okay. You’re okay, Abigail.”

She panted against his skin for a moment, then froze. “Oh God.” What the hell am I doing? “God, I’m sorry.” She pushed away from his chest, her cheeks burning. “I’m sorry.”

Keith tugged her back. “Don’t undo everything I just did,” he ordered softly. “Relax. You need to relax.”

Even now, mortified by her own behavior, she wanted to sink her teeth into his skin again. She wanted to feel him inside her. “I need to get up, Keith. Really. I want—” She groaned and rested her forehead against his shoulder. “I need to get up.”

His breath feathered against her ear. “Don’t fight it, and it won’t overwhelm you. I can keep you safe.”

She didn’t doubt that. But if she gave in to the need tearing at her, she didn’t know what would happen. How far things would go.

Liar.

She knew. Even as her hands slid up his shoulders and into his hair, she knew. Her tongue snuck out to taste the hollow of his neck, and she moaned again and wiggled closer. “Yes,” she answered, though he hadn’t asked anything.

She kissed him.

At first he didn’t react. His hands stayed on her back, only tightening a little when her lips parted. She licked his bottom lip and went rigid when he stayed perfectly still. You’re an idiot, Abby. He obviously didn’t want to encourage her, and she’d both bitten and licked him in the space of a few minutes. She closed her eyes and sighed. “I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t.” It sounded hoarse, more growl than speech. His fingers skated up her back and plunged into her hair, and he tilted her head back. “Christ… Christ—”

Then he kissed her.

There was nothing hesitant or discouraging about the way he urged her mouth open and thrust his tongue inside to slide over hers. She shuddered and whimpered at the flood of sensation his touch unleashed. Under the civilized, acceptable veneer of passion, something in her thrilled at his loss of control.

He kissed her long enough to make her head spin and tore his mouth away with a low noise. He panted against her neck, his fingers still tangled in her hair, and she felt the power surrounding them. It felt right to be like this, straddling his legs with his hard cock grinding against her. To have his mouth on her neck, hovering over the vulnerable spot where her pulse beat erratically under her skin—

Keith pulled back, his expression pained. “You need to talk to Samantha.” He gripped her hips and lifted her as if she weighed nothing, depositing her back on the bed. “This—it can mean things you don’t understand. You need to talk to her first.”

She stared down at him, bereft, her body throbbing. “What kinds of things?”

He shook his head and rose to his feet. “I need to—” When he took a step back, she got the feeling he was fighting for the control to retreat. “I’ll go talk to Sam. She’ll explain.”

Abby watched in shocked silence as he turned and walked out, closing the door quietly behind him. After several minutes, she crossed to the door and slid the chain back into place. Her hands still shook, and she couldn’t quite wrap her brain around what she’d just done.

She’d been half a heartbeat from dropping her robe and begging him to fuck her. Not make love to her, not even have sex with her. Fuck her. Hard, claiming thrusts, maybe against the wall…

She banged her forehead against the door and groaned. She could have an orgasm by herself and take care of the sexual tension still twisting her, but it wouldn’t calm her need to feel Keith’s body wrapped around hers, solid and warm.

Oddly, though she felt even more nervous and out of sorts now than she had before, the painful energy had disappeared. In its place was a strange sort of satisfaction, as if the wolf inside was simply biding her time.

*

Keith slammed through the door to the bar and ignored the startled looks from the people spread out among the tables. He ignored Carl and his questioning eyebrow, ignored the beer Stacey held out as he passed, ignored everything except for Gavin and Sam, who were seated at their usual table on the slightly raised platform that would have served as a stage if anyone had ever performed there.

He stopped just short of the platform, his height putting him on eye level with the alpha pair. Sam tilted her head to the side and studied him. After a moment, she sighed and drained her beer. She brushed one hand over Gavin’s arm as she rose to her feet. “I suppose it can’t wait until tomorrow now, can it?”

“Doesn’t look like it,” Gavin agreed, his expression bland. “Be safe, baby.”

Sam trailed her fingers up her husband’s arm and across the back of his neck as she moved around him. “Keith, you should go wait in the office, honey. Unless you really want to have this conversation with everyone in town watching.” Her gaze drifted past him, and Keith stiffened, sure that everyone in the room had just turned abruptly away to study their drinks.

It wouldn’t matter where they had the conversation. The gossip in the tiny town broke the sound barrier most days. Still, he shifted his gaze to Gavin’s, pleading silently with his alpha.

Gavin rose and glanced sternly around the bar. Then he nodded to Keith. “Let’s take a walk.”

Keith followed him outside. Gavin spent a few seconds studying the sky and started toward the center of town. “What’s the problem?”

He made a frustrated noise, hating Gavin a little for forcing him to speak the words when they both knew what was wrong. “I can’t handle it. You need to get another enforcer in here to look after them. Carl or Mac.”

“Carl or Mac,” he echoed, scratching his chin. “They’ve both got a lot on their plates right now. I’ll see if Mitchell’s got some time.”

The growl escaped him before he could stop it, which had been Gavin’s intention, he supposed. “Sometimes you’re sort of an asshole.”

“Mac is married with three kids and Carl just took a mate.” Gavin stopped in the middle of the street and arched an eyebrow at Keith. “So they’re safe. Joe’s a good Guide, and the ladies like him. Not so safe.” His tone both dared and invited disagreement. “It’s a duty he enjoys. One you’ve been avoiding.”

His hands curled into fists. “Yeah. Because I’m not good at it.”

“Walk away,” Gavin urged quietly. “I’ll put someone else in charge of her safety, and we’ll find another wolf to guide her.”

Walk away. The man could think rationally, could accept he might need to do just that. The wolf, though… The wolf was hungry, and not for prey. “I don’t know if I can.” It was a confession and a plea for help, rolled into one.

The alpha swore. “Dozens of women, Keith. Since you’ve been back, dozens have passed through here, and you haven’t looked twice at any of them. Now you want me to—” He swore again. “What happened before you came to the bar?”

Keith squeezed his eyes shut and fought against the strength of his memories, of Abby’s scent, her soft, desperate noises, and the feeling of her body under his hands as she begged him for things without saying a word. Only the knowledge that she didn’t know what she was asking for—begging for—had made it possible to back down.

He cleared his throat and tightened his fists until his fingernails dug into his palms. “She was losing control. She was thirty seconds away from a forced change. I had to help her.”

Gavin’s nostrils flared. “So it’s already started.” He headed off the street, toward his house, and beckoned for Keith to follow. “You couldn’t give Kelly up after her Initiation. What makes you think you can do it this time?” He shot him another dark look. “Or are you thinking that far ahead?”

He hadn’t been thinking at all. Her pain, her need for someone strong enough to calm the wolf inside her… Oh, he’d been tempted in the past. His instincts had clamored for him to take any number of newly made wolves under his protection, to teach and guide them. To use his strength to shelter them.

But the wolf was the only one. The man wasn’t ready.

Hadn’t been ready.

Keith groaned and rubbed a hand across his eyes. “Christ, I’ve fucked up, Gavin.”

They crested a small rise, and the light spilling from the front porch illuminated them both. “Not a big deal,” Gavin admitted as his boots clomped on his porch steps. “Not yet, anyway. I can still warn you away from her, if that’s what you want. You’ll just have to sit back and watch her pick someone else.”

He struggled to take a breath around the sudden rage that choked him. “She needs a choice,” he said, forcing out the words. But she has to choose me. She has to.

Gavin tugged a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his flannel shirt and thumped one out. “Sammie will tell her what she needs to know.” He lit the cigarette with quick movements of his weathered hands. “Abigail has already chosen you, Keith. She just doesn’t know it yet. When she figures it out…” He shrugged. “Well, she’ll go with it, or she’ll get scared and run. Either way, I’m leaving it up to the two of you. Just be careful.”

“Careful.” Keith snorted and leaned against the porch railing. “Yeah. That’s me all over.”

“Fine. Stay away from her.” Gavin took a deep pull from his cigarette and grinned as he exhaled. “Let’s see how you do with that.”

Keith scowled. “Fuck you, man. Fuck you.”

Gavin laughed for a moment, but his amusement faded into solemnity. “You never answered my question. When it’s over, can you let her go?”

He wasn’t ready to answer the question. “Let plenty of ’em go before Kelly.”

“That you did. And all it takes to damn near ruin your life is one you want who doesn’t want you back. Remember that.” He turned the doorknob and shouldered open the door. “Want a beer?”

Keith glanced over his shoulder toward the motel. He wanted to go back, but Sam was there. Sam would take care of Abby, would explain to her what was going on.

And if Sam caught him hovering, she’d kick his ass.

He turned back and saw that knowledge and understanding reflected in his alpha’s face. Gavin understood. He always understood, which made him the perfect leader. “Yeah. The last thing you need is to have Sam after you because you didn’t keep me out of her hair.”

“Bullshit.” Gavin chortled. “If I don’t keep you out of her hair now, I’ll be picking bits of you out of it later. And I kind of like you.”

Keith stomped up the porch stairs with another snort. “Yeah, yeah. Fine, let’s go drink beer.” And stop thinking.

* * *

Abby’s heart jumped when she heard the knock at her door. For one crazy moment, she thought Keith had come back. But the energy bleeding through the door wasn’t his, and she fought a wave of disappointment.

She pulled open the door to find Samantha standing there. Immediately, she lowered her gaze in deference. “Mrs. Hamilton.”

“Oh, Jesus. Don’t call me that.” She slid a strong finger under Abby’s chin and forced her gaze up. “Sam. Call me Sam. Do you like Abigail or Abby?”

“Most people call me Abby.” She moved away from the door and cleared her throat. “Please, Sam. Come in.”

Samantha Hamilton wasn’t any taller than she was, but her presence filled the room as she stepped inside. It was different from Keith’s, but oddly soothing just the same. When the door closed behind her, she reached out again and caught Abby’s chin in a gentle grip. Sam’s dark brown eyes studied her face for a moment. “You’re strong, aren’t you? Tough.”

It had never really occurred to Abby before. “I’d like to think so.” She stared up at Sam and ventured, “Are you here because Keith sent you? He said you would need to talk to me.”

“Yes.” Sam gestured to the small, scratched table in the corner, an obvious command to sit. “If you had chosen to become one of us, you would have learned this before the change. You would have already chosen a Guide.” The capitalization of the word was clear. “As it is… Well, there’s no good way to do this, Abby. Do you want me to try to explain, or would you rather ask questions first?”

Abby waited for Sam to sit before lowering herself to the other chair. It listed a little on uneven legs, and she stilled its rocking. “Dylan said something about an Initiation. I’m guessing a Guide helps you through that. But I don’t know what’s involved, or why it’s important.”

“Initiation traditionally lasts for three full moons. A ceremony is performed the night before the first full moon, bonding an Initiate and their Guide. The bond is a bit of old magic. Maybe something we got from the wizards before we became enemies.”

Abby groaned as she digested her words. “Keith.”

Sam nodded. “Keith is a strong werewolf. An experienced one. Seeing you in distress… Anyone who grew up with the old ways would have wanted to help you, Abby. But we have strict rules about how this works. The Initiate always chooses. Especially since the relationship involves a level of intimacy that can become sexual.”

Humiliation made her cheeks burn, and she wanted to sink through the floor. She’d known, on some level, that the energy swirling between them had been at least partially responsible for their kiss. What she hadn’t imagined was that he might not be attracted to her at all. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Will you—” Her voice cracked, and she looked away. “Will you tell him I’m sorry? I didn’t mean to bother him.”

“No, I most certainly will not. I won’t insult him by implying that his duty is a bother to him.” Sam caught her gaze and held it, her expression stern. “And neither will you. That is the first thing you need to understand, Abigail. Serving as a Guide is an honor, one that most of us have undertaken at least once in our lives. Sometimes the bonding period ends and we part as friends. Sometimes it deepens into love. But it is never, never a burden.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay. I guess I need a-a Guide before this weekend.” Before the moon reached its fullest. “What do I do? Ask Keith?” The thought made her stomach clench with fear and excitement. Would he want to? Did he want to?

One of Sam’s eyebrows swept up. “You have every right to make a choice, Abby. Not that I’m trying to discourage you from Keith. It’s obvious that you’re perfectly compatible, and I’m sure he would keep you safe. But he’s not the only man here who could keep you safe, and perhaps you owe it to both of you to make an informed decision.”

Abby gritted her teeth. “I can’t make an informed decision about any of this because I don’t know anything.” Irritation and helplessness washed over her. “I-I guess I’ll have to meet more men. I mean—God, I don’t know what I mean.” She cast a pleading look at Sam. “How do I do this? Just show up at the bar tomorrow night and advertise?”

“Shit, no.” Sam reached out and covered her hand. “Come to lunch at our house tomorrow. There’s plenty of time for you to meet people, talk to them. Simple. And if anyone makes you uncomfortable, tell—” She stopped abruptly, the pause short but telling. “Well, tell Gavin or me. No one should push you.”

“Okay.” She had never been one to make friends or socialize easily, and the thought of putting herself on display—to the alphas or anyone else—made her palms sweat. “I can do that. I look forward to it.”

Sam arched an eyebrow. “Next piece of advice—don’t lie to werewolves. It never works well. And don’t be nervous. Your friend will be there with you. Dylan.”

“Right.” What she really wanted to ask was if Keith would be there, but she held her tongue. “I’ll make it. Thanks, Sam. For everything.”

“What else do you need? Clothes? Food? Something to read?” Sam tilted her head toward the TV. “We don’t get cable out here. Don’t get much of anything, but there should be some movies in the cupboard underneath.”

Abby shook her head. She just wanted to sleep. “I’m exhausted. Maybe in the morning?”

A short nod. “There’s some food in the minifridge there, probably. Stuff that takes a while to go bad, probably some drinks and beer. You’ve got the little kitchenette here, but unless you want to go get groceries, I’ll just stop in tomorrow morning and we’ll go find some breakfast.”

She stood and tightened the belt on her robe. “That sounds great.” Tears stung her eyes. “I really appreciate everything you and your husband have done.”

Sam rose and stepped around the table. One hand dropped to Abby’s shoulder and slid around to her back. “I’m sorry this is so hard, honey. You’re going through a lot right now, and I know it. But you’re not alone.”

All Abby could do was squeeze her eyes shut and nod. “It’s just a little overwhelming, that’s all.” She straightened her shoulders and forced a smile. “I’m okay, though. Really.”

“No lies.” A moment later Abby found herself enfolded in a gentle embrace, and Sam’s quiet strength wrapped around her like a warm, soft quilt. “You don’t have to be okay right now, Abby. But you will be. I promise.”

“Okay.” Abby tried to breathe and a harsh sob escaped. She abandoned herself to Sam’s strength, letting it soothe her.

“Shh…” Fingers stroked over her hair. A warm, maternal comfort surrounded her. Sam held her, whispered meaningless words against her hair and rocked her a little as she cried.

* * *

If you want more, here’s all the places I currently know of who have it available to order!

Sanctuary (print): Amazon, Amazon (UK), Powell’s, Barnes & Noble, Books a Million, IndieBound

Or, if you’re a digital book sorta person…

Cry Sanctuary (digital): My Bookstore & More, All Romance Ebooks, eBook Store from Sony, Books on Board, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Powell’s, OmniLit, Diesel eBooks

Sanctuary Lost (digital): My Bookstore & More, Books on Board, All Romance Ebooks, Mobipocket, Amazon, Powell’s, Diesel eBooks, OmniLit

Summer of Sanctuary

So there’s a lot going going on this summer in our world of werewolves and sanctuaries! Sanctuary comes out in print in April (Sanctuary has Cry Sanctuary & Sanctuary Lost together in one volume.) Then Sanctuary Unbound comes out in June in digital format. In July, the first book in our Great Depression era spin-off series, A Safe Harbor will be released in digital as well.

Yes, a busy summer indeed! So I’m going to start organizing my lists for review copies now. If you’re interested in being put on the list for an advance copy or a review copy of any of our spring or summer releases, just click on the link below.

http://moirarogers.com/redrockreviews/

These snippets might not be entirely safe for work (though they do vary) so PROCEED WITH CAUTION!  (This one isn’t quite as dirty as yesterday’s though. )

“Sanctuary Lost” by Moira Rogers

Buy from MBaM!
Read An Excerpt Online
Genre: Paranormal Romance

ISBN: 978-1-60504-581-8
Length: Category
Price: 4.50
Publication Date: June 9, 2009
Cover art by Tuesday Dube

She’s ready to fight at his side. He’s fighting for the strength to let her go.

Red Rock Pass, Book 2

If there’s one thing that Brynn Adler hates, it’s feeling helpless and vulnerable in unfamiliar territory. Three weeks ago, life tossed her into just such a world. A world of werewolves she never knew existed—until she found out her sister was one of them.

The pack seems determined to hurry her back to the normal world of humans. But after everything she’s witnessed, she’s not sure she wants to go—especially if it means leaving not only her sister behind, but the one man who makes her forget her life is falling apart.

Now all she has to do is convince him to agree to a plan to force the pack to let her stay.

Joe Mitchell has been battling his protective instincts since he rescued Brynn from her kidnapper. Getting involved with her is a bad idea for a lot of reasons. She’s on shaky emotional ground, and a supernatural war is no place for a human woman. He’s not about to let her make a hasty decision, one that will only bring her pain and regret.

Now all he has to do is let her go.

Warning: This book contains violence, a war between werewolf packs, hot, primal sex and sexual power games with a badass ex-Special Forces alpha who will do anything to keep his lover safe.

* * *

Brynn watched as time slowed to a crawl. Pierce hit his knees and toppled over. There was blood everywhere, blood and things that were a lot more disturbing than blood, things she couldn’t think about too closely. Her civilized brain recoiled in horror, but what was left was intense satisfaction. Glee, and a tiny bit of regret that Pierce hadn’t suffered more, hadn’t faced death and been forced to stew in it until it made him ill.

The man at the door stepped forward, and the world snapped back into painful, blinding clarity. He held a finger over his lips and knelt to search through Pierce’s pockets. “My name is Joe. Your sister brought me.”

She tried to think back to what Abby had said. Had there been something about friends? Everything was distorted by that numb detachment she’d cultivated, her only defense against the taunts and threats.

“Joe.” Her lips formed the name, and it felt oddly familiar. She studied his face, the firm, handsome features, the short, messy dark hair and the hazel eyes that were somehow fierce and gentle at the same time. “Joe, you’re here…”

He lifted a hand to her cheek. “I told you I’d be here if you needed me.”

He had. He’d promised, after he’d saved her from Alan Matthews, that he’d never let anyone hurt her again. Except he couldn’t have promised her that, because he was rescuing her now—

Her brain stumbled over the logical inconsistencies and came to the proper conclusion: this was a dream. Hard on the heels of that realization came a second one—that Joe’s hand was warm against her skin and his fingers felt so, so perfect as he stroked her tangled hair back from her face.

Lucidity slipped through her fingers again as she launched herself into his arms with a relieved noise. He caught her with a soft growl and nuzzled her ear as his arm slid around her waist, drawing her closer. His nose grazed her cheek and his mouth landed on hers, demanding and coaxing at the same time. It had to be the first time he’d kissed her, because she never would have forgotten the way her body melted as his tongue urged her lips apart.

But if it was the first time, how could he know everything to do, everything that would make her body come to life? He kissed her within an inch of her sanity, hands roaming her back and hips, finally drifting down to cup her ass and lift her closer.

Warm hands skated over skin as clothing disappeared, but it was the incongruity of being lowered to a soft mattress that tripped her brain this time. Some part of her whimpered in protest as the dream unraveled, dissolving even as she clung desperately to it.

She woke up in Joe’s bedroom—in Joe’s bed, flushed and confused and breathing too fast. A floorboard creaked and she bolted upright, her gaze landing on Joe. He hovered just inside the room, his fingers still wrapped around the doorknob. Oh dear God, please don’t let me talk in my sleep…

He stared at her in silence for a moment and tilted his head. “Nightmare?”

“Sort of.” She dropped back to the pillow and covered her face with her hands. “Started out that way. But hey, it went away on its own, so that’s a sign of progress, right?” She couldn’t stop the words from tumbling over her tongue, though she knew her nervous babbling was anything but subtle.

“Want me to sit with you for a while?”

She almost told him no, but it would have been a lie. A stupid, pointless lie. Her subconscious, at least, had already decided who made her feel safe, and there was no use fighting it. “That’d be nice, if you don’t mind.”

He walked in. She could hear the television playing softly in the living room as Joe sat on the edge of the bed. “That guy again? Pierce?”

“Yeah.” Joe had saved her, that much of the dream had held truth. But there had been no romance, no joy, just gut-wrenching shock as blood spattered her clothing and Pierce slumped to the floor with half his face missing.

That was the last thing she remembered. On the rare occasion she tried to think back, all she could come up with was the vague impression of Joe’s arms around her and the sound of explosions. The next clear memory she had was of being in a motel in Red Rock, cradled against Joe’s chest as a doctor tended to Abby’s wounds.

Brynn dropped her hands to the bed and met Joe’s eyes. “I don’t really remember it. What happened, I mean, after you shot him. Some of the stuff up to that point’s a little blurry, but after that… It’s like a big blank nothing.”

“Good.” He scooted closer. “Sometimes, your brain figures that’s for the best.”

“Yeah?” She closed her eyes and rubbed lightly at the side of her head. “Well, tell my brain it’s creepy and to stop trying to make up things that happened next.”

His hand brushed her leg. “What does it make up?”

“Usually some fairly awful stuff.” She managed a half smile and moved her hand to rest over his. “You were very heroic tonight, though. Even more so than usual.”

Joe grinned wickedly as he turned his hand and wrapped his fingers around hers. “I must have been. You sounded like you were having fun.”

Of course he could tell. There was no privacy in a town full of werewolves. Maybe she should have blushed, but she was too busy being relieved by the fact that he didn’t seem to mind. Yes, because what you need right now, in the middle of everything, is a crush.

Or maybe it was exactly what she needed, if only to keep her from drowning in futile misery. She tightened her fingers and tugged slightly. “It’s rude to use your werewolf superpowers against me, you know. Or rude to admit it.”

“Rude, maybe.” He reached up with his free hand and brushed her hair back. “But I just wanted to see you smile.”

“It’s nice to smile.” Weird, maybe, but her lips curved up. “It’s been a couple weeks since there was much to smile about.”

“Still not much,” he admitted. “But sometimes it’s all you can do.”

She let her thumb play over his fingers as she watched his face. “So if I go through with this, and if I ask Cindy to be my Guide…” She hesitated, then ignored her nervousness and pushed on. “Are there rules about me not getting involved with other people?”

He stared at her for a long moment before answering. “Usually, if a Guide and an Initiate don’t plan on getting intimate or there’s someone else in the picture, they forego the bonding. It’s easier that way, if they can get away with it. So no, nothing to keep you from seeing someone else.”

“Okay. Good.” Sitting brought her so close that she had to tilt back her head to look at him. She didn’t release his hand, just kept her fingers around his as she went for broke. “Because I was thinking…getting involved with someone is a crappy idea right now, but I’m sort of miserable, and you’re sort of hot. I wouldn’t say no to a little bit of irresponsible sex in between lessons in defending myself, if you were willing.”

He didn’t react as though her words surprised him. Instead, his hand tensed under hers. “Brynn, you’ve been through a ton of shit here recently. I’m not going to say that you don’t make a very good point, but I don’t know if I’m the guy for this. I really don’t.”

It was supposed to be casual, so the fact that it hurt to be rejected, even gently and obliquely, surprised her. The question escaped before she realized she’d spoken. “Why?”

“Because.” He kissed her fingers, his breath blowing hot over her skin. “I’m already past irresponsible sex here.”

“Oh.” She swallowed and fought the urge to shift closer. Careful, Brynn. Careful. She liked Joe. She liked Joe a lot, in ways that weren’t casual at all. But she couldn’t tell for sure, not when her life was tumbling end over end. Brynn had spent the last seven years carefully planning everything, researching all possible outcomes and taking action only when she was confident she’d made the right decision.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done something just because it felt right. Because it would be fun. Probably the last time I did something stupid and had to watch Abby clean up after it. Would Abby be cleaning up after this mess?

And do I care?

He leaned closer and feathered his lips over her cheek. “Good night, Brynn.” There was no time left. He’d get up and walk out if she didn’t stop him.

So she blurted out, “I already like you way too much.” The words sounded so much stupider out loud than they had in her mind, so she turned her head and caught his lips in an off-center, awkward kiss.

His lips were warm and soft against the corner of her mouth. He slid them over hers, quick and gentle, in a kiss that cajoled rather than dominated. It was nothing like the hip-grinding, tongue-tangling kiss of her dream, but it set her heart to racing just the same.

His hand crept up her arm and slipped around the back of her neck, drawing her closer. He held himself rigidly, almost trembling, as he eased past her lips and touched her tongue with his.

A moan rose in Brynn’s throat, and her patience broke. She lifted her hands to the back of his head and whimpered as she curled her tongue around his. Joe growled in answer and kissed her harder, his teeth scoring her lip.

A moment later, he broke the kiss, groaning against her cheek. “Bad. Bad, bad idea.”

Soon we’ll be starting another round of contests, giving away a ton of fun prizes here on the blog, sometimes ours, and sometimes books written by authors we love!  It’s paranormal madness, and the goodies include signed copies of Mark of the Demon by Diana Rowland & Blue Diablo by Ann Aguirre!

Winner of Cry Sanctuary
tamsyn5

Winner of Sanctuary Lost
heatwave96

Winner of Sanctuary’s Price
lisarx5

THERE ARE STILL SIX CHANCES TO WIN!

Book One October 2008 More Info	Book Two June 2009 More Info	Book Three October 2009 More Info

First paragraphs! They could be a joy or a torment, but you sort of need them. I dare say it’s impossible not to have one. But why stop at one! Today I will give you four first paragraphs, one for each of the three Red Rock Pass books. (I was going to include the first paragraph of #4 too until I decided it was a baaaad paragraph to be floating about on it’s own, since it manages to be both spoilery and deceptive at the same time. Hmmm… tricky, huh?)

Anyway, enjoy three paragraphs! The third one makes me laugh because Bobby the ire-filled Battlestar Galactica fan has actually gotten a chance to be a little bit heroic in book four. Good on him!

First Paragraph of Cry Sanctuary

Keith’s alpha rocked back in his chair and watched the harried-looking man and his young daughter walk out the back door of the bar. Then he cast a weary glance at Keith. “It’s different now. Since you left, I mean. Shit like this happens all the time.”

First Paragraph of Sanctuary Lost

Dead leaves crunched under Brynn’s feet, slippery enough that she slid several steps with a muffled curse before catching her balance. Branches snatched at her clothing and tangled in her hair, but she didn’t stop running. She deserved every stinging scratch, every bump and bruise, even the trembling pain in her legs and the burning of her lungs. She deserved them all, for running.

First Paragraph of Sanctuary’s Price

By the time he managed to set fire to the damp wood in the dusty old fireplace, Dylan had resorted to giving himself half-hearted pep talks. “Could be worse. You could be dead. Could be back in Helena. Could be stuck listening to Bobby bitch about how they fucked up the Battlestar Galactica finale.”

# # #

More first paragraphs await you, if you dare to click! (You do! I know you do!): Kelly Maher, Jody Wallace , Shelli Stevens, Michelle Pillow, Lauren Dane, Leah Braemel, Jaci Burton, Elisabeth Naughton, McKenna Jeffries, Taige Crenshaw, Vivian Arend, Juliana Stone, Anya Bast, Lacey Savage, Shelley Munro, Sasha White, Ashley Ladd, Eliza Gayle

Winner of Cry Sanctuary
deidre_durance

Winner of Sanctuary Lost
glarrabee

Winner of Sanctuary’s Price
habrewer

THERE ARE STILL EIGHTEEN CHANCES TO WIN!

Book One October 2008 More Info	Book Two June 2009 More Info	Book Three October 2009 More Info

Happy July!  I come with winners in our Red Rock Pass contest, but for those of you who didn’t get a chance never fear, book #3 is due out in October and we’ll be having another cutlery contest soon!

But for now…

Grand Prize Winner

($25 to Books on Board & 1 Awesome Knife)
Melissa (kiara@…)

Five Runners Up

($5 to Books on Board & Cry Sanctuary)
Mary Preston (marypres@…)
Heather C (heatwave96@…)
Carol G (clynsg@…)
Kate Pinn (katiepinn@…)
david lateiner (mrlatts@…)

Winners should be receiving emails shortly! Thanks everyone for entering, and keep your eyes peeled tomorrow for a new short novella!

In Cry Sanctuary Brynn was introduced at pretty much the lowest point of her life.  Her orderly world has been upset, her five year plan has been destroyed, and oh yeah, she found out her sister was a werewolf when she got kidnapped to be used as leverage.  And because Brynn is not used to the role of damsel and victim, it’s hard to say what upset her more–being kidnapped and terrorized, or being kidnapped and terrorized soley as a means to an end.  Brynn Adler does not deal well with being a disposable commodity, and much of her discomfort in Sanctuary Lost can be blamed on the fact that the bad guys aren’t out to get her, they’re out to hurt her sister by things–and people–Abby loves.

Brynn and Abby have a very specific relationship dynamic, even if they don’t see it themselves.  In fact, in Sanctuary’s Price (book #3, due out in October), their best friend Dylan sums it up rather neatly:

Dylan is a smarty, which is one of the reasons I love him to death. But more on that later.

Donna and I like to make playlists for our characters, songs that they’d listen to or songs that fit the place they are during the book we’re writing.  So I took a screenshot of Brynn’s playlist, which is a bit of both:

(Yes, for anyone who follows me on twitter, putting this together is why I had my random Natalie Imbruglia karaoke dance break yesterday.)

If I had to pick one song from that list, it would totally be Deftones, Change.

Random Facts About Brynn:

• She loves Pop Tarts. A lot. Nothing is ever so bad that it can’t be helped by Pop Tarts.
• She’s addicted to HGTV.
• She spent four months as a vegetarian to make one of her hippy boyfriends happy.  Eventually she chose steak over him.
• In college she took archery as an elective but couldn’t hit the target.
• She decided she wanted to be in government when she was seventeen, and has spent the years since as a vocal, active liberal with strong feelings on gun control.
• …and now she’s involved with an ex-Special Forces badass with a grenade launcher in his closet.

Here’s your chance!  Got any questions about Brynn? Want to know what makes her tick? Wondering how she’s going to handle tripping over Joe’s weapons?  Wanna know what’s in store for her?  Ask!  I’ll answer!  (Okay, I might answer cryptically, but I’ll answer.)

Cry Sanctuary & Sanctuary Lost are available now.

Okay, so I’m a little late getting our release day contest up, but with my home office in shambles and seven days to closing on the new house, hopefully everyone will cut me some slack. 

And speaking of cutting–yes! After the last post I went ahead and went for it! We are giving away a few things in honor of our latest release, but my favorite is this awesomely wicked looking replica knife, good for the next time you’re kidnapped by angry werewolves. (By which I mean to say–good for showing off?)

Mystical weaponry plays its part in the Red Rock Pass books, as witches and wizards have been at war with the werewolves for long enough that creating magical weapons meant to injure the wolves can be a profitable sideline.

But that’s not all!  We’ve also got 5 copies of Cry Sanctuary to give away, for anyone who’d like to discover the series for the first time, as well as some gift-certificates.  And thanks to the magic of Sprout we have a cool sharing graphic!

Grand Prize: A collectible knife & $25 gift certificate to Books on Board
Five Runners Up: $5 gift certificate to Books on Board + Cry Sanctuary

To enter, reply with the following:

1. Werewolf or Wizards: whose side would you fight on?
2. Optional: Did you share the graphic anywhere?

Contest ends June 30th, 2009! Go crazy! And if you’re interested in checking out the madness, take a peek at Sanctuary Lost, available as an ebook now from Samhain Publishing.

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