(Seven Series, Bk #3)
Izzy has always loved the freedom and adventure of life on the road, but she’s recently decided to settle down—as much as a rogue wolf can. When her boyfriend gets her a job working at a hot Shifter bar, she runs into the last person on earth she expected to see again.
Jericho isn’t the famous rock star he once was, though he still plays in a local band and loves to party. Beautiful women come and go, but music is his only passion—until a sassy redhead named Isabelle Monroe shows up unexpectedly.
Fate reunites two former friends living with one foot in the present and the other in the past. But will they have a future when one of them is forced to choose between life and death? Old habits die hard, and sometimes the toughest addictions to shake are the ones that control our hearts.
July 29th 2014
As the men dispersed, a warm
feeling slid over my body when I looked up at Jericho. His eyes were hooded and
low, but when he melted me with a possessive gaze, my feet cemented to the
He moved toward me with the grace
of a panther—slow and predatory. The external noise from the bar faded away,
and all I heard were his silken words as he caressed the ends of my hair,
looking at it between his fingers.
“You haven’t changed,” he said in
“What do you mean by that?”
Jericho bent down and his mouth
brushed against my ear. “Still sexy as sin and making me protect you.”
Goose bumps erupted over my arms.
“No one said you had to protect me. I’m not the shy girl you once knew.” My
heart raced. The inflection in my tone wasn’t as harsh as I’d planned it to be,
my words breathy and unsure.
His warm body pressed against mine
and when I stepped back, I bumped into a wooden post that pinned me to him.
Tingles raced through my body uncontrollably, and I lost the ability to think
rationally when I smelled his cologne. Men never
had this kind of effect on me. His power slid down my body like hands against
my naked flesh.
Jericho had a smile that aroused,
and combined with his voice, it became an aphrodisiac.
Or maybe it was the way his
callused fingers lightly stroked the back of my neck, as if I were an
instrument. As he played me, memories flooded my mind, and I shoved him away,
panting and trembling.
Jericho worked his jaw in a
frustrated manner, his brows slanting down with a look of disbelief. He shook
his head and then backed up.
A brunette appeared out of nowhere
in a revealing top that displayed her breasts like cookies in a bakery: warm,
tempting, and something you’d regret later.
“How’s my sexy man?” she asked,
tucking her fingers possessively in his jeans and nipping on his arm. “You want
to go have some fun?”
His eyes stayed locked on mine as
he circled his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. She moaned
playfully as he squeezed her hip, testing if I had my temper under control.
So I played his game.
“Can I get you a drink, honey?” I
asked her. “Maybe some milk in a dish?”
Sometimes I could spot the cats. It
was all in the purr and the way they slinked their bodies.
“No, thanks,” she replied. “I have
something else in mind I want to put in my mouth.”
When she stroked his crotch, I
blinked in surprise. Not just because she had the audacity to do that in front
of me, but the fact that Jericho tilted his head and gave me a “so what?” look.
Maybe he was right. All that
connected us were five amazing years, and that was a lifetime ago. Seeing him
made me raw again. Those feelings caught up with me like a shadow that had
never let go. Part of me wanted to squeeze him tight and tell him how much I’d
missed him—because I had. Jericho had shown me the private side of himself he
never gave to others, and I’d done the same for him. Another part of me wanted
to hate him for the anguish he’d put me through. And yet, I couldn’t help but
feel elated knowing that despite his insolence, Jericho wasn’t lying in a grave
as I’d imagined. He’d somehow assembled his life into something meaningful and
gotten a grip on his demons.
Meanwhile, my demons were currently
on the rampage and waving pitchforks.
So I said cutting words that hurt
because I meant them, and yet I didn’t.
“I wish I’d never met you.”
About the Author
This is the segment where you learn a little more about who I am, so here’s what I can tell you: I drink copious amounts of vitamin water placed precariously close to my laptop while writing. These are two healthy habits I have no intention of breaking. I’m a transplant living in the south, but I was born in the 70’s to a military dad who moved us around the world.
When I’m not writing (which is all the time), I’m hunting down Indie music, watching movies, reading, eating Tex-Mex, discovering new ways to humiliate myself bowling, and burning up my laptop battery on the Internet. I have a relaxed, easy-going personality and don’t like drama. I live with a cat who thinks she is a dog, or a goat (she eats plastic, so I’m not sure which).
Throughout my life, I’ve had insomnia. Counting sheep never worked and eventually I would imagine those sheep were the sole source of food after an apocalyptic battle where only thousands survived. I made up stories in a futile attempt to bore myself to sleep. The problem was, I got so wrapped up in my “head stories” that I would continue them through the following nights, changing it up each time to make it more exciting. Eventually, I started writing my ideas down – creating short stories, and then I discovered my love for poetry.
It’s almost embarrassing how many spiral notebooks and stacks of paper I have of poetry and lyrics.
Another passion: digital art. I design all my book covers, marketing, and series art. I’m a very visual person and pursued photography as an avid hobby for many years.
I am not a YA author (I feel like I have to state this only because I’ve had a few people ask), but I think it’s wonderful there are so many books available to teens in Urban Fantasy and Paranormal.
I am finally doing what I have always wanted to do: giving my characters a pulse through writing full time. I focus on adult urban fantasy romance, but I don’t like labels and I enjoy blending genres to break out of the confines of predictability.
But it’s what I love to do.
You can stalk, I mean find Dannika here: