There's a new paranormal series that I'd like to introduce to you today as the second installment was recently released. Everlasting by Tmonique Stephens continues the steamy adventure and you can learn about it, and the series, by reading the enticing excerpts below. Make sure to fill out the form for your chance to win a copy of this book!
Descendants of Ra, #1
Cursed for 2000 years, Roman Nicolis has tracked his lovers’ soul through each reincarnation only to lose her horribly every time. Reclaiming their love is his only salvation. He’s been her friend, her father, her neighbor, but never again her lover . . . until now.
A late night walk home throws Stella Walker into the path of a killer. The last thing she remembers are the deep blue eyes of the man trying to kill her—and the first things she sees after a seven day coma are the same blue eyes in the handsome face of the man hired to protect her. Is he truly the owner of a security firm or the man who wants to finish her off? Is it fears she feels when Roman touches her or the memory of something sweeter?
Past secrets haunt them. An angry demon stalks them.
Roman will do anything to recover what they once had. Though Stella’s ruined childhood has made her close her heart and body to any man, he must get past the walls around her to gain her love and trust, for it will take their union to defeat an unexpected enemy sent from the Egyptian Gods. A man Romans respects, and Stella trusts.
TWO HEARTS.ONE SOUL. FOR ALL ETERNITY.
EXCERPT:
Curled on his body in the middle of Central Park, Roman let Stella sleep. Holding her wasn’t a hardship as his mind wandered to the future, their future. Foolhardy, definitely, but what else could he do when he held the object of his obsession in his arms?
Remember your promise and let her go.
He stroked a wayward lock of hair behind her ear and slid his fingers down her silky cheek. She nuzzled him, turned her face into his palm and kissed him. Every noble intention evaporated like a bead of sizzling water in a hot skillet. Cock rock hard, he had to kiss her, feel her breath on his skin, in his body. In the deserted park, he needed her now.
The fine hairs on the back of his neck bristled. He froze. Battle instincts surged to the forefront, screaming for action, instead, he listened to the night surrounding him and waited. Though not a hub of wildlife, the creatures of Central Park were silent. They also waited. Somewhere, nearby, a predator stalked.
He nudged Stella. She stretched, making him aware of every curve and hollow she possessed, and purred, a sexy rumble deep in her throat. Before she could say a word, he cupped her head and pulled her into a quick kiss.
“Shhh, we’re in danger,” he whispered against her lips.
Her head popped up and she eased off him. In the gloom, her frightened eyes met his. “What?” She mouthed.
“We have to get out of here.”
Crouched low, he took her hand, together they crawled along next to the hedge. He looked over. His keen eyesight picked up nothing and no one. So why did the same excitement he used to get before a battle race through his veins? Stella squeezed his hand. Her wide eyes sent him a question he couldn’t answer.
He drew his gun from the small of his back and the silencer from his jacket pocket.
“Roman?” Her voice wavered.
He spared her a glance. “Whatever happens, do exactly as I say. Understand?”
Her head bobbed on her neck.
“Walk beside me, not in front or behind. Got it?”
Not far from the nearest road, they stuck to the trees and away from the open expanse of the Great Lawn.
Leaves crunched behind them. He’d never run from anything in his life. Even before the curse and his immortality, he stood his ground and killed everything in his path. Now, whatever stalked him, stalked her. His senses told him only one lurked in the darkness, but with Stella to protect, he couldn’t risk it.
The Delacorte amphitheater loomed ahead. He guided her into the shadows. Stationed behind a statue, he aimed and watched the route they had just taken. Stella clutched his jacket, her shivering body pressed close.
“Tell me.”
“There’s someone out there.”
“It could be anyone, ’kids maybe?”
“Maybe.” He agreed purely to reassure her. But as he spoke, one hundred yards away, something peeled away from the shadows of a large tree and charged.
“Stay.” He ordered. Through his jacket, her nails dug into his back. He pulled away, but she wouldn’t let go. He shrugged out of his jacket and advanced. She called to him, begging him to return, but the blood rushing in his ears drown out her voice. He rushed forward and focused on the attacking foe.
Wait. He skidded to a halt. He had a shot, but . . . something was wrong. The height was too short. Whoever ran toward him must be a child—or running on all fours. He squinted at the slice of darkness closing the distance between them. The tree coverage ended and speckled moonlight dotted the Great Lawn, uncovering the thing barreling forward. For a split second his mind tried to unravel the impossible nightmare quickly shrinking the distance, before he fired three shots between its widely spaced eyes. It roared and charged faster.
“Run, Stella!” He fired running back to the theater. She hadn’t listened. Instead of running away, she met him. He grabbed her hand and ran, but she couldn’t keep up and the thing behind them closed the distance.
“Is it him, The Strangler?” she shouted breathless.
They ran past The Preserve, rounded a column and then stopped. Shrouded in gloom, the outline of the pond appeared in front of the Belvedere Castle. He didn’t want her to see what chased them, but before he could stop her, she turned. Her scream pierced the night. Yards away, a bellow replied. He jerked her around and shoved. She stumbled and fell into the water.
“Go!” This time, she didn’t fight. For a second, he watched her swim. Then turned in time for claws to dig into his side.
BUY LINKS: AMAZON | BN
Descendants of Ra, #2
Kill the beast.
Save your brother.
Win your freedom.
Falling in love with the cop trying arrest you?
Problem.
To save his twin from death, Reign Nicolis will have to bargain with Goddess of the Dead, and once more become what he despises, El Mortem, The Scourge, a killer trained to show mercy to none. But he is haunted by those who have fallen beneath his blade. Their ghostly shapes dog his footsteps, relentless in their torture to make him suffer for what he was put on this earth to do two thousand years ago. Saving his twin ensures Reign’s enslavement to the Goddess. She may own his body, but never his heart.
Detective Alexis Lever’s career is in shambles. Her only chance at redemption is to discover what happened to the body of Daniel Nicolis. To do that she’ll have to thwart two men: Reign Nicolis and Roman Nicolis. Both belong in jail. But one has stolen her heart.
EXCERPT:
Trailing behind the police car, Alexis couldn’t keep her gaze off the back of his head and broad shoulders. Every single thing about him embodied the fantasy lover she’d created, then forgotten and remembered again just days ago. She had dreamed of his naked body covering hers, wrapping her legs around him, and begging him to take her.
Somehow, he shifted his big body around and stared at her from the caged back seat, as if he knew where her thoughts strayed. A shiver raced down her spine. Heat pooled low in her groin and released in a whiplash of pleasure. She clenched the wheel with suddenly sweaty palms and tried to hold onto the tendril, all the while his gaze remained locked on hers. “Thank God,” she sighed when they pulled into the police station parking lot.
It seemed the entire police station had stopped to stare at the new arrival. She couldn’t fault the women for gawking or the men for unconsciously touching their weapons. Immense and overwhelming, he stood at least six foot eight with shoulders as wide as a linebacker with the pads. Black cotton stretched tight over massive shoulders and molded to perfect pecs and brick abs. Even stretched behind his back, his biceps bulged. When contracted, they’d probably peak like mini Mount Everest. Hiseyes, electric blue, peered through his shaggy midnight hair, watching her approach.
Palpable menace seeped from his pores, polluted the air, and set everyone’s nerves on edge. The man was a killer. He wouldn’t wax poetic like a comic book villain. No, he’d kill you and move on to the next combatant before your body hit the ground.
Her heart suddenly ached. The embodiment of the man she dreamed about most of her life now stood before her and he was probably a criminal. And for some weird reason, she cared. Her life had plopped into the crapper yet she cared about a criminal she had met fifteen minutes ago.
Then he pivoted that body so she got a full frontal and whipped his hair back with a snap of his neck. Alexis sucked in a sharp breath. That face. There was nothing pretty about him or even handsome. He demolished her senses like a freight train smashing into a two seater. He was almost too much to look at, yet she couldn’t turn away. She didn’t dare.
Exhaling slowly, Alexis didn’t back down from his stare.His eyes seem to deepen into dark drowning pools when she approached. His hard, lean face softened and an increment of hisfury abated, lessening the overall testosterone level in the room.
“No ID and he won’t tell us his name,” Paul’s partner told the desk sergeant.
Her prisoner’s—that’s how she thought of him—lips curled slightly in a mockery of a smile.
“Reign,” he said.
Oh, shit. She had to lean against a wall. His rough voice kicked off a pulse deep in her groin making her imagine something else rough and deep.
Somehow, he shifted his big body around and stared at her from the caged back seat, as if he knew where her thoughts strayed. A shiver raced down her spine. Heat pooled low in her groin and released in a whiplash of pleasure. She clenched the wheel with suddenly sweaty palms and tried to hold onto the tendril, all the while his gaze remained locked on hers. “Thank God,” she sighed when they pulled into the police station parking lot.
It seemed the entire police station had stopped to stare at the new arrival. She couldn’t fault the women for gawking or the men for unconsciously touching their weapons. Immense and overwhelming, he stood at least six foot eight with shoulders as wide as a linebacker with the pads. Black cotton stretched tight over massive shoulders and molded to perfect pecs and brick abs. Even stretched behind his back, his biceps bulged. When contracted, they’d probably peak like mini Mount Everest. Hiseyes, electric blue, peered through his shaggy midnight hair, watching her approach.
Palpable menace seeped from his pores, polluted the air, and set everyone’s nerves on edge. The man was a killer. He wouldn’t wax poetic like a comic book villain. No, he’d kill you and move on to the next combatant before your body hit the ground.
Her heart suddenly ached. The embodiment of the man she dreamed about most of her life now stood before her and he was probably a criminal. And for some weird reason, she cared. Her life had plopped into the crapper yet she cared about a criminal she had met fifteen minutes ago.
Then he pivoted that body so she got a full frontal and whipped his hair back with a snap of his neck. Alexis sucked in a sharp breath. That face. There was nothing pretty about him or even handsome. He demolished her senses like a freight train smashing into a two seater. He was almost too much to look at, yet she couldn’t turn away. She didn’t dare.
Exhaling slowly, Alexis didn’t back down from his stare.His eyes seem to deepen into dark drowning pools when she approached. His hard, lean face softened and an increment of hisfury abated, lessening the overall testosterone level in the room.
“No ID and he won’t tell us his name,” Paul’s partner told the desk sergeant.
Her prisoner’s—that’s how she thought of him—lips curled slightly in a mockery of a smile.
“Reign,” he said.
Oh, shit. She had to lean against a wall. His rough voice kicked off a pulse deep in her groin making her imagine something else rough and deep.
BUY AT AMAZON here.
Tmonique Stephens wrote her first novel about a reporter and a hockey player after the U.S. hockey team won gold in the 1980 Olympics. She loves writing flawed characters who reflect the emotional baggage we all carry. She writes complicated stories for complicated people. Paranormal romances and fantasy novels are her favorite genre. She will read anything about fairies, demons, or angels. She also enjoys Stephen King and Dean Koontz.
She has a Bachelor’s Degree in Creative Writing from City College of New York where she won an English Department Award for her play Tea with Salt in 1987.
She was born in St. Thomas USVI, but she grew up in The Bronx, New York one mile from Yankee Stadium. She lovesSyFy and the History channels, and Asian cuisine. But her heart and stomach longs for anything from the Caribbean.
Facebook: http://www.facebook.
Twitter: https://twitter.com/
Pinterest: http://pinterest.
Email: Tmoniquebooks@gmail.com
She has a Bachelor’s Degree in Creative Writing from City College of New York where she won an English Department Award for her play Tea with Salt in 1987.
She was born in St. Thomas USVI, but she grew up in The Bronx, New York one mile from Yankee Stadium. She lovesSyFy and the History channels, and Asian cuisine. But her heart and stomach longs for anything from the Caribbean.
Facebook: http://www.facebook.
Twitter: https://twitter.com/
Pinterest: http://pinterest.
Email: Tmoniquebooks@gmail.com
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