Welcome to a some cool fun for a hot Sunday. To celebrate the release of Blind Heat, the second book in my Pantherian Passions series, I've set up a little game related to the story.
Our hero, Marcus St. Germaine has a habit he hasn't been able to kick. At the start of Blind Heat he gives into temptation and this time it gets him into trouble. I'll be sharing the first chapter in blog posts throughout the day. At the end of each post, I'll show you a picture and tell you the name of the blog where it's hidden. Simply email Master Bond ( the kinky French Chef from The Dungeon Gourmet) lemarquis.debond on gmail.com telling him where you found the picture. For every correct answer you send in, you'll get your name in the hat. The prize is your choice of my backlist:
The Tiger's Tale (First book in the Pantherian Passions Series)
The Dungeon Gourmet
Snatch Me
I'll announce the winner Monday morning on the Words, Women, Wisdom blog.
Happy Hunting and good luck. I'll be checking back throughout the day, so if you have questions, leave them in the comments and I'll be along shortly with an answer.
Blind Heat: Excerpt 2
His hold on the mental shield weakened. He couldn’t let her in. Hard as it was to ignore the cry for help, he couldn’t stop parahuman research and rescuing hybrids from research facilities put Pantherians living among humans at risk. He’d promised to stop. Why did promises always attract a need to break them?
Stop. Think, some saner part of his mind said. But he was calculating. She couldn’t be far away. The water amplified their connection, which meant to follow it was to find her. There was a research lab in the industrial center on the other side of the park. A hybrid in the human world would be someone’s experiment. The majority of his race refused to acknowledge any sense of duty or kinship to the human-manufactured hybrids, but agony wasn’t something he could walk away from.
The stream ran in that direction. Predawn, the lab would likely be empty.
Again he turned to the water to regain focus, stared into his reflection, the leopard’s eyes—a feral gleam startled him. Something wild and untamed stared back at him from the depths, dared him to take up the challenge, reach for and protect the female.
Her pain pulsed in the air around him, sent ripples ringing outward through his reflection, breaking the features apart until the leopard vanished. In the time it might take any observer to blink and rub his eyes, Pantherian Marcus St. Germain reappeared in his human form. He remained still, head tipped to the sky, allowing his mind to adjust to the change in form. Snowflakes went liquid against his cheeks, gathered in his lashes, dusted his naked body.
He forced his mind to the now, to the danger ahead, into the peace and calm required to take on the task. He welcomed the numbing cold, the clarity that came with it. His night vision just as strong in his human form, his gaze returned the reflection, his mind to that between state, both inside and outside his body. Snow curled in a spiral around his human form, his body still young and vibrating with primal energy, despite the fact he’d roamed this earth for more centuries than he could say. Snow dusted thick, dark hair. Predawn light had filtered in just enough to paint his body in silver and black shadows. He studied his frame against the surrounding, black-and-white leopard fading into the backdrop of snow and the dense shadow of woodlands.
Something else shimmered in the air, lighter, fainter than the hybrid’s pull. Something that felt like a promise, hope.
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