She might not resemble the tall, willowy heroines of her treasured romance novels, but Rianna's never had any trouble getting a man. Of course, being a witch might have something to do with it!
But on this particular autumn evening, when Rianna goes out hunting for a little friendly company, she doesn't stop to wonder what might be hunting her...
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Reviews
5 Hearts! "[A] jam-packed Halloween twist on the Daemon Lover folklore which had this reviewer nearly bouncing out of her seat with excitement and sensual magnetism. Ms. Dafoe delivers again!" -- Annie, The Romance Studio
Witch, Hunting M/F sensual romance
Publisher: Changeling
Format: eBook
Length: Hot Flash
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Excerpt
Impatiently, Zlon pulled Kima to him. His masterful hands closed on the lush, ripe melons she meekly offered to his view.
"Ah, yes," he breathed. "Now that is more like it, Lady of Dumas."
No. It wasn't. Why was it always the same? Strong, smart, spunky heroine -- right until she met some enormous asshole with an enormous dick. Then, after a few chapters of sparring, in which the heroine (in this case the tall, tempestuous Lady of Dumas) proved herself the equal of the warrior-king who'd abducted her, she invariably caved. Crumbled like a child's sandcastle under wave after wave of alpha-spunk.
Typical.
And Rianna hadn't reached for her vibrator once.
She chucked the book across the loft. It hit the far wall with a satisfying thump and fell to the floor, its pages as splayed as the heroine's thighs were about to be. Sighing, Rianna rolled onto her stomach, rested her sharp little chin on her folded arms, and stared at herself in the mirrors lining the wall across from the bed.
She was certainly no Kima Dumas with her willowy frame, her long, lithe legs, her flowing auburn hair. For one thing, she was short. For another, she would never be stupid enough to let her orgasms rule her. A little passionate rough-and-tumble, hell, even a bit of feeling overpowered might be nice once in a while -- but let's face it, even after all the mind-blowing sex and the tormented declarations of love, the assholes would still be assholes. Thanks, but no thanks.
Rianna smiled at her reflection, watching her dark eyes take on a certain mysterious smolder beneath her chopped ebony bangs. No, she was definitely no Kima Dumas. Small, cat-like features set in a broad, almost Slavic face. Her cheeks... She sucked them in experimentally, then let out an exasperated breath. Yup. Decidedly chubby.
The nebulous restlessness she'd felt all day still plagued her. It was partly the season, she knew. Fall always made her feel jittery, impatient, her blood singing through her veins under the impetus of the changing seasons and the crisp, cool air. But there'd been something else, too, that afternoon. Something like the sensation of cool fingers trailing down the back of her neck. A sensation of being watched, observed...
Rianna shook her head. That was nonsense. She was just horny, that was all. Well, Lady Kima and asshole Zlon hadn't done anything to relieve it. Hell with them.
The unused vibrator tumbled to the floor as she rose and pulled on the jeans she'd so hopefully discarded. Reaching for her leather jacket, Rianna gave her hair a quick tousle, stomped into her boots, and clomped down from the loft.
