Pairing: m/m

Available in ebook from Aspen Mountain Press

Available in ebook from ARe

Available in ebook (Kindle) from Amazon

Available in ebook from Fictionwise

This is for the Del Fantasma line at AMP.

Also, check out a few choice images in this gallery for a peek at Jack and Scott

BLURB:

It takes a special kind of virgin to bind a unicorn.

Scott would never have dreamed he was pure of body, heart and soul, but then he had no cause to believe unicorns even existed until he reluctantly drove to Del Fantasma late one night to rescue his stranded brother, Bryan.

Jack may be a unicorn, but he avoids virgins like the plague. The chances of meeting that special type of virgin is slim-to-none in bars like Del Fantasma and he delights in every opportunity to feed his own lusty appetites while he can. After all, a unicorn may be undeniably attracted to virgins but that doesn’t mean he has to be one himself.

Unfortunately for Jack’s plans, their bond is instantly formed when he meets Scott. Jack is now Scott’s to command. He just has to convince him what he is, something that sounds a lot easier than it is.

And Bryan? Well, it turns out that their meeting wasn’t entirely by chance. Bryan was instructed by a group of vampires to get the two together. Now that he has, can Jack and Scott discover the threat against them and save Bryan in time?

********************************

©2008 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

Scott took a deep, steadying breath and walked into the bar. It was really very, well, ordinary. He’d expected a dark smoky den of iniquity and was quite taken aback to find a nice, but very normal looking bar. The moderate crowd that filled the tables and booths didn’t look like denizens of the underworld or like shadowy creatures of the night. He’d expected a much more seedy bar for some reason. Allowing himself another breath, he stepped into the dimmed light.

Bryan was sitting all alone at a table in the back, half watching a game of pool not far away. His big hand was curled around a mostly empty glass mug of what was probably beer. There were enough people in the bar but it didn’t feel terribly crowded to Scott so he didn’t start to panic. He kept his attention on Bryan as he navigated through the tables set in the middle of the room.

Bryan caught sight of him and sat up straighter. Oddly, his gaze shifted around the room like he was looking for someone. Did he have a friend here? If so, why’d he call Scott to pick him up?

Scott reached the table but Bryan didn’t stand. He looked awful. Probably not drunk, but definitely a few sheets to the wind. His brown eyes were red around the edges, which just made the dark circles under his eyes look worse. The dim lighting disguised the gray tone that had been in his skin lately. Scott wondered again if maybe he should suggest Bryan go to a doctor. He gave Scott a lame, drunken smile. “Hey.”

“Hey.” When Bryan still didn’t stand, Scott raised his eyebrows. “Well? Let’s go.”

“What’s your hurry?” He gestured at the other chair at the small little table. “Stay awhile.”

“Are you crazy? No way.” He glanced back toward the door, relieved to see the path still clear. “Let’s go.”

“Oh come on.” Bryan kicked at an empty chair to move it away from the table. “Have a seat. I’ll buy you a drink.”

“I have to drive us home.”

Bryan ignored him, holding up his hand toward the bar.

Aghast, Scott glanced toward the bar to see a big, muscular man with dark hair, a military look about him, acknowledge Bryan’s beckon. He turned back on his brother. “What the heck? It’s after one. Isn’t it closing time yet?”

“Nah. Cody’s got some deal with the locals. He stays open ‘til nearly dawn most nights. Sit.”

Not surprising. The bar’s nearest neighbors were at least two or three plots of land away on any side. The bar wasn’t likely to cause a disturbance. “Look, I didn’t come all the way down here to have a drink.”

“It’s not that far.”

“I need to go to bed.”

“What? You have to be up early?”

“Yes.”

Bryan frowned, reaching up to comb a hand through his short red hair. “No, you don’t. Jesus, Scott, would you sit the fuck down and live just a little.”

Scowling, Scott sat. It wasn’t like he could drag Bryan out of there. Bryan, half again as big as him, was a man who worked construction, where Scott worked on computers. Scott was hopelessly slight next to Bryan’s brawn, another mark of their different fathers.

“There you go. See? Did that hurt?”

Petulant, Scott folded his arms over his chest and glared at his brother.

Bryan, for his part, kept glancing around the bar. Nervous.

Scott kept staring at him, wondering what would happen if he just left. “Are you here with someone?” Who was he kidding? He’d never strand anyone if he could help it so he couldn’t just get up and leave.

“Huh? What?”

“You keep looking for someone.”

“What? Oh, no. Just, uh, looking. You know.”

Scott narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Going on? Nothing. Jeez. Why’re you so suspicious? I’m bummed about my car breaking down, and I haven’t had any luck with picking anyone up tonight. Let me have one more beer to drown my sorrows.”

“Pick someone up? You and Margaret break up?”

Bryan winced. “We were never really a couple.”

“Oh? You spent enough time with her.”

Bryan laughed. “You don’t know anything about women like Margaret, Scott.”

Scott didn’t know anything about women-or men-period, but he let that go. “She stop seeing you?” He hoped so. He’d only met the woman once but she gave him the creeps.

“She said we’re through until I do something for her.”

“Do something? What?”

Bryan shook his head. “Nothing you need to worry about.” Again he cast his glance around but this time he seemed to find what he was looking for. His eyes lit up, pointed somewhere behind Scott toward the front entrance.

Scott was just about to turn and look when the bartender stepped up to their table and placed a strange concoction before him. Pale, opaque fluid filled a martini glass but the drink itself was nearly hidden underneath an absurd collection of brightly colored cocktail stirrers. A few of the stirrers had animals at their tips, mainly horses and fish. The bartender set a fresh beer down in front of Bryan.

“Wait.” Scott looked up at the man. “I didn’t order this.”

The man smiled. “It’s on the house.”

“What? Why?”

The man smiled as he turned to go. “It’s called a unicorn. You’ll like it.”

# # #

Jack sauntered back into the bar, the sated werecat at his back. Sighing, he reached up to finger-comb his past-shoulder length curls, realizing he was going to need to visit the bathroom first before he could sit down. Alex slid a hand down his back in a friendly caress. Jack threw a smile over his shoulder and they parted gracefully, Alex back toward his friends at the pool table, and Jack toward the restroom sign in the back.

Halfway across the bar, he recognized the tingle crawling just under his skin, creeping over his scalp, seeping into his chest. It was different than the after-sex tingle, but the recent sex feel had initially disguised it. Freezing in his tracks, he frowned, staring at the scuffed floor. Oh no. It couldn’t be. Not that! He didn’t dare look up. Determined, he kept on course toward the restrooms despite a growing need to veer toward the right. No, no, no. This isn’t happening.

He reached the little two-stall restroom by sheer force of will. Thankfully, no one else was there so he took his time with the disposable towels, soap and hot water to freshen up. He hadn’t done too much damage to his white dress shirt and he’d been careful enough not to spill in or on his jeans.

As he was again finger combing his unruly platinum locks, he felt something on his forehead that froze him again. His own crystal blue eyes stared at him, wide and frightened in the mirror, as he ran the pads of his fingers over the hard lump just beneath his widow’s peak. “No!” he hissed, glaring at the spot that was a few shades yellower than his pale skin. “Go away!”

The bathroom door opened, startling him. The new arrival headed straight for the urinals, not looking Jack’s way as he unzipped.

Trance broken, nothing left to do, Jack gave himself one last once over. Where earlier tonight he’d been confident and cocky, now he was just wary and starting to get pissed. He didn’t even bother asking “why me”, knowing it was a fruitless question.

He left the restroom, forcing himself to remain calm. He studiously did not look to his left as he headed for the bar, pulling out his wallet. “Cody,” he called when he got there, “what do I owe you?”

As he was sifting through bills, a glass coffee mug was set before him. He frowned at the fizzy drink, the bubbles pushing a citrus aroma into the air, light but enough for his sensitive nostrils to pick up. He gave Cody the eye. “What’s this?”

The man who had started to become a friend gave him a level stare that Jack didn’t like one damn bit. “Your drink.”

Jack’s nostrils flared. Cody was famous in paranormal circles as not only a vampire but a matchmaker extraordinaire. He liked to announce such matches with special drinks. Jack had seen him do it a few times with much amusement. He’d never wanted to be the recipient of one. “What’s it called?” he asked, against his better judgment.

“Death of a virgin.”
**************************

Click here for the site’s main page on Del Fantasma: Unicorn

Buy it now at Loose Id: http://www.loose-id.net/detail.aspx?ID=698

Pairing: m/f; m/m/f

Available in ebook at Loose Id

Available in ebook at ARe

Available in ebook at Fictionwise

Available in ebook at Barnes & Noble

What’s this? Another man touching Meg? You really can’t blame her though. Don’t you recognize him? That’s Logan Lockhart, the actor. She’s been a fan of his for awhile.

BLURB:

The legacy of the evil witch has left Meg with a heck of a lot of power and influence in the southwest United States. Much to her dismay, this means that just about everyone thinks she’s a shoe in to be the next grand dame.

What they don’t get is that the last thing Meg wants is to be grand dame. She grew up watching her mother rule the paranormal community in the northeast and it was enough to show her that she didn’t want that kind of responsibility.

Terrance B Sharpe proclaims himself to be the man for the job, however. He’s even leashed the matriarch of L.A.’s very powerful lion’s pride as a display of his prowess. It’s through him that Meg meets an actor she’s panted after for years. One of the lions, Logan Lockhart not only makes her girl parts happy, he also fills her in on a thing or two about Sharpe that she’d rather not know.

But what the heck is she doing paying attention to Logan when she’s already got two luscious shifters to call her own? Michael and Rudy are doing all they can to help her out, but Michael, as usual, has his own goals that don’t always mesh with Meg’s.

What’s a girl to do when she’s been handed a lion’s share of power on a silver platter?

*******************

©2008 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

Preoccupied with my own thoughts, I was caught off guard when Sharpe steered me sharply to the left and down a short hallway into what looked like a game room. A large billiards table took up most of the far side of the half-lit space, with a half dozen men gathered around it and even more women circling them. A few others milled at the near side of the room, watching a television as two men played a video game.

“Logan!” Sharpe called, raising a hand as he walked toward the men at the pool table. “I’d like you to meet someone.”

The one who’d just taken a shot straightened and turned.

Oh. My. God!

If Sharpe hadn’t been tugging me along, I’m pretty sure I would have frozen on the spot. Because Sharpe was finally dragging me toward someone I was impressed with and not remotely prepared to face.
Logan Lockhart.

A few years ago, he’d become a household name by starring in a string of hit action movies that appealed particularly to the young adult crowd. Also appealed to the female crowd of nearly any age. Logan played something of a James Bond or Jason Bourne type of character, but the situations were far less serious, almost campy. The movies never took themselves seriously and, frankly, weren’t all that good script-wise. Popular opinion laid the entire success of the series to the charisma of the lead actor and the supporting cast. Logan himself had been acclaimed by the press and named among the most beautiful men in the world by popular vote in prominent magazines in at least three different countries.

The man was, without doubt, beautiful. Model perfect, but with rugged features and a musculature that you could believe he earned through activity rather than just in a gym. About Michael’s height, he stood in the strange shadow of the hooded light over the pool table. His skin was smooth and flawless, perhaps a few shades lighter than Michael’s rich golden brown. His face was a perfect oval, classic, with a slightly blunted nose and high cheekbones. Straight, shining brown hair was trimmed short around his neck and ears with one long, blond streak that fell in a sexy swath over his left eye. His lips were just this side of too lush as they smiled at me, causing a most distracting dimple near the corner of his mouth. His eyes, now they were special. I couldn’t see the color very well at present, but I knew from many hours staring at images of the man that they were a light brown that could be mistaken for yellow. Gold, maybe. Stunning.

Gwen and I were big fans of the movies, so to see Logan Lockhart appear before me now was…mind-altering.

Smiling, he came around the corner of the table and switched the cue stick from one big hand to the other. The three gold earrings in his right ear glittered.

Sharpe patted his arm while presenting me to the actor. “Logan, this is Meg Gray. Meg, Logan Lockhart.”

Eyebrows raised, Logan glanced very briefly at Sharpe before extending a hand toward me. “Meg,” he said, warm, dry fingers lightly gripping mine as his dark molasses voice wrapped around me. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Me?!” I squeaked. Entirely undignified, but there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. My synapses were not firing properly. My skin was warmer than it should be. Logan Lockhart!

“Oh, yeah. We all heard about you leashing two shifters” — he glanced over my shoulder, perhaps looking for Michael or Rudy — “then the deaths and the tribunal.” He laughed softly. “You ever think of writing a script? It’d probably make a great movie.”

Was he a shifter? Or was Logan Lockhart a witch?! I was forced to recall that just about everyone at the party was a witch, a shape-shifter, or a mundane with knowledge of the paranormal. Logic leaned toward shifter, since I could usually tell a witch just by look.

The realization shocked my brain into working a bit. I laughed, heard it sound far too high and girly. Disgusted with myself, I dropped my gaze from his beautiful face to find that my hand was still folded in his. It stayed as I stared. Shouldn’t we have let go of each other by now?

Amusement that wasn’t mine tickled the back of my neck. I startled, glancing over my shoulder. Michael was watching me from a doorway about ten feet away, an amused curl to the corner of his mouth. The flush to my skin deepened as I averted my gaze.

*************************

Click here for the main Leashed 3: The Lion’s Share page

Both anthologies are from MLR Press

Blood Claim is due out in January. I’ll be keeping company with Laura Baumbach and Angela Fiddler.

This volume features a trio of M/M tales from three of the genre’s hottest authors.
Winner Takes All by Laura Baumbach — Two vampires face off in a deadly bet that has the winner claiming everything the loser owns–including the loser’s innocent, unaware human offspring.
Gift of the Raven by Angela Fiddler — Cory has always been mercurial; passionate one second and frozen the next, but when he was hot, he was scorching. Luke had brought him up as a vampire but couldn’t keep him the first time around. But now evil’s come on an arctic wind, and they’ll need each other to fight it.
Wolfe’s Recluse by Jet Mykles — Can Wolfe lure Matt out of his apartment for the first time in two years? Is the gorgeous Wolfe temptation enough for Matt to overcome his fear of vampires?

The other is brand new and not even up on the site yet. It’ll be called Hot Comforts and will be about hot manlove and food. I believe it’s slated for a fall release.
More info as I know it!

Here’s Logan Lockhart. You really can’t blame Meg, guys. He’s a movie star! He’s also a werelion. Kinda looks it, doesn’t he?

Click here for this site’s main page on Spiritual Noelle.

Available in ebook at Loose Id

Available in ebook at ARe

Available in ebook at Fictionwise

Available in print at Amazon

Available in print at Barnes & Noble

BLURB:

The army called the Grand Dame of the Northeast US for help with a spirit witch whose powers had grown out of control. She sent in the best spirit witch she knew, her daughter Noelle. For the past three months, Noelle has worked with Daniel and they made great progress. But then Noelle went and fell in love with him. Which would be bad enough, but she also fell in love with his leashed shifter, Jake.

Daniel is a pretty man, there’s just no getting around it. Jake is a bear of a man, and Daniel’s leashed shapeshifter, bound to protect him at the cost of their lives. To Noelle, they are the most handsome, most wonderful men on the face of the earth and she wants both of them.

Now Noelle has set herself a Christmas task. Build a relationship with Daniel and Jake, but first she’ll have to convince Daniel there’s something between them and get him over the notion there’s nothing more between him and Jake than friendship first.

If her sister Meg can have two men, why can’t she?

*************************

©2006 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

No sooner had I settled my butt on the rug than Daniel leaned forward to grab my arms and shake me.

“Don’t sleep with him!”

I blinked, completely caught off guard. “Excuse me?”

He knelt before me, eyes narrowed. “I’ve watched you. I figured it out. You came back to sleep with Jake!”

“No, I didn’t …” Not entirely.

“You’re attracted to him. I can understand that. It’s just …” He closed his eyes, swallowed, a look of pure anguish passing over his exquisite features. His fingers squeezed my arms, and I’m not sure he knew he hurt me. “Just don’t. Please. Not now. Not …” He shook his head.

I leaned into his grip, staring intently into his face. “Daniel.” When he didn’t open his eyes, I bent my elbows to grab his forearms and shook him slightly. “Daniel.”

Sharp brown eyes opened to me.

“Tell me why.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“Why don’t you want me to sleep with him?”

He released me and sat back on his heels, but I pushed forward to kneel, keeping my grip on his arms.

“Tell me why, Daniel.”

He tried to act cool, brushing my hands off. His eyes darted away from mine. “Because I don’t want to be around the two of you acting all lovey dovey.”

I ducked my chin and tilted my head, trying to reestablish eye contact. “No, there’s more to it than that.”

“No.”

“Yes. I told you, you’ve got to be open with me if I’m going to help you.”

He scowled. “This has nothing to do with the spirits.”

“This has everything to do with the spirits. It has to do with your peace of mind.”

He frowned, blinked, stared at me. He wanted to deny it; I saw it in his face. But he couldn’t. “I am being honest. I’m asking you not to … I …” His voice got steadily softer as he went on until the last was barely a whisper. “I don’t want to see you with him. I couldn’t handle it. Not … now.”

“Why? Because you want to sleep with me?” I paused just a second, wondering if the next sentence was wise. Instinct told me I had to. “Or because you want to sleep with him?”

Anger flared, coloring his alabaster cheeks. He reared up on his knees, grabbing my arms to yank me nose to nose with him. “I’m not gay!”

“Are you sure?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

I was committed now. “I’ve seen you around Jake. You guys are so close –”

“We’re close, so that means we’re gay?!”

“Daniel, that’s not all there is. The way you two …”

His nostrils flared. His eyes went wide, then narrowed. Quick as a viper, he hauled me up to his chest and forced his lips on mine.

I’d known this was a possible reaction. I’d be a hypocrite to say that a part of me didn’t want it. The few touches I’d been allowed on that beautiful body hadn’t done anything to lessen my desire to rub against him like a cat in heat. I probably should have backed away and forced him to talk to me, but oh, even if his kiss did mash my teeth into my lips, he felt good.

At first he was punishing me, pressing his lips to mine and holding me pinned. I think it was when I clutched his waist, or maybe it was when a happy little moan escaped my throat, that the kiss changed. He backed off from the hurt and tilted his head for better access. I went with him, opening my lips to suck in his bottom lip. It was his turn for a little moan as he opened his mouth on mine, disengaging his lips to make room for his tongue to plunge in. Finally he released the harsh grip on my arms, sliding one hand up to cup the back of my skull and slipping the other around my waist to hold me up against him. Sweet Goddess! His chest was hard and his arms were strong and he tasted so darn good. I cursed the layers of clothing that prevented me from feeling his hardness against my bare skin.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and desperately devoured his mouth.

He bent a bit and wound an arm around underneath my rear end. He lifted me slightly so he could tilt my body and gently lower me to the rug, without ever breaking the kiss.

I gratefully accepted his weight as he settled on top of me, arms coming up under my back to hold me. I parted my legs and threw them around his waist, that eager to hold him close.

He managed to pry our lips apart, but had to bring a hand up to peel my arm from around his neck to do it.

I whimpered, switching my lips to his neck. I folded my fingers with his to keep his hand from pushing me away. When I bit his earlobe, he groaned.

“Noelle …”

“Please, Daniel, please.” I heard the begging in my voice and didn’t care. I wasn’t above begging for this. “Please.”

“We can’t …”

“We can.”

“Jake …”

“You could call him back.”

******************************************

Click here for the main Spiritual Noelle page

A witch has an unusual manner of exorcism.

It may be of note that I’ve wondered if this witch lives in the Leashed world.

*************************************************
Humming softly, I walked straight through the unlocked doorway. It was rather easy, since the door itself had fallen from deteriorated hinges and lay rotting on the threshold. The moment I got through the opening, the howling started. Strange, unearthly moans that rattled the shattered windowpanes. A chill wind agitated dust motes in the moonlit air.

“Hello to you too,” I murmured, continuing, undeterred through the hallway toward the main room at the back of the house. I studiously ignored the waving cobwebs that dangled above and I refused to hear the scrabbling of what had to be rats—or worse—from the shadowed corners.

The living room was populated with the desiccated remains of what had probably once been very fine furniture. I’m pretty sure I recognized the Chippendale design on the feet of some of the tables and seats, but I didn’t bother lifting the dust cloths. The furniture wasn’t my problem. That would be the task of the owner who had hired me. Most of the inside of the house would have to be refurbished to make it livable again.

“Be gone!”

Oh, yeah. And the ghost had to go.

Stopping in the empty middle of the room, I glanced over my shoulder. Good. He’d chosen to appear to me again rather than just talking in the ether. It was a good sign that he was interested.

He must have been one hell of a good looking man in his day. Not especially tall, but well built. His chest and shoulders were broad and the 19^th century waistcoat tailored in on a perfectly trim waist. Hips and muscular legs were tightly encased in trousers. Stockings lovingly hugged his shins. Light, long hair was pulled back in a queue, although the ghostly wind that surrounded him mussed it to let tendrils writhe about his head. His face was long and sharp, with scowling black eyes. Because of his ghostly state, he was all monochrome. Mostly whites with light and dark grays for contrast and outlines.

He pointed an imperious finger at me. “Be gone!”

“I will, I will.” Unruffled, I kicked aside the tattered remains of what had probably once been a fine rug, exposing the wood beneath. Happily, the floor didn’t seem to be in such bad shape. Dusty, but solid, without rot. I thanked the Goddess for that small favor.

“You will go now!” He reared up, swelling to twice his size. Cobwebs disintegrated from the high ceiling above him and dust kicked up into miniature tornadoes beneath the shoes that didn’t need to touch the floor. His hands clawed and his face turned into the perfect ghostly caricature. Complete with ragged, oversized mouth and deep empty pits for eyes.

“Oh, quit that,” I scoffed, snorting dust from my nose. “We both know you can’t touch me.”

He shrank back to his original size, the size I was pretty sure was normal. He came to stand, glaring, at me as I knelt on the cleared floor. I busied myself with pulling items out of my satchel. Angry, he let his wind howl, but I’d come prepared. Everything I had was too heavy for him to move. I’d even weighted down the bottles by taping rocks to them. The rocks also had ghost wards on them.

I sat on the floor and arranged my few items calmly, my long red hair securely fastened in a braid down my back. Once I had everything out, I took a few seconds to collect myself and say a silent prayer to the Goddess. Then I picked up the chalk and started to draw.

He was instantly intrigued. “What are you doing?”

“A spell.”

He laughed. “You cannot banish me! Priests and even a bishop have tried. No one could oust me from my ancestral home.”

“I know that.”

I paused when he knelt before me. Then, without looking at his eyes, I pushed right on through him to continue my sketching. There was a cold thrill in my veins, but nothing more. He had no substance. Not without help.

“I have told you to be gone! Leave this place at once. Leave me to my eternal misery!”

He went on but I tuned him out. He’d done this in our previous meetings. Bitch, bitch, bitch. That’s all he did. He may have been a looker, but if he was this constantly on the rag when he’d been alive, forget it!

I finished my circle and sketched the appropriate runes. I picked up the salt and re-traced my circle with it, staying well inside. Once the circle was complete, I felt it snap into place. It also took on what I’ve always thought was a rather pretty glow. It illuminated the dark room with a dim, warm glow not unlike candlelight.

And he felt it too. He stood outside the circle, fuming.

Smiling, I finally met his eyes. He scowled. I reached for the hem of my sweatshirt and pulled it up and off. His scowl melted away to astonishment. I didn’t have anything on underneath.

“What…?”

Still smiling at him, I toed off my shoes, then unbuttoned my jeans. He was positively aghast when I let them drop.

Naked, I bent to retrieve the bottle of oil. I unstoppered it and languorously oiled myself up.

“What are you doing?” he rasped. If he’d been alive, I’d say his throat was dry.

Without answering, I crouched, careful that my nicely trimmed mound and barely hidden sex were visible to him. Humming, I spread out the huge, comfy towel I’d brought with me and sat on it. The circle was large enough that I could lay flat on the towel. Which I did. My sweatshirt supplied a rather serviceable pillow for my head.

Flabbergasted, he could only watch as I drew out the last item, the one I’d kept hidden from him.

“That’s my…”

“Ring,” I finished for him. It was a fine piece of jewelry too. Heavy gold with intricate vines and flowers engraved about it. A large emerald was embedded in the setting. I’d found it in one of the dressers upstairs. The lady at the antique shop had instantly recognized the signet of the Florin family; the family who had owned this estate.

“What are you doing with it?”

“Watch.”

I had the ring on a chain, like I was going to wear it about my neck. Except I wasn’t. Using the chain, I let the ring dangle over my face.

I lowered the ring until it touched my lips. As though I were kissing a lover, I tasted it, nipping with my lips. I kept it dangling as I played, letting my tongue peep out to lap at it.

“What are you…?”

Ignoring him, I lowered the ring from my lips to my chin. It fell from the edge to land heavily on my throat. Lifting with the chain, I skipped it down to the hollow of my neck.

I lowered the chain all the way to my chest and drew my finger down my sternum, dragging the ring down and through my open cleavage. Using my free hand, I plumped my breast and pulled the chain up to tease my nipple with the ring.

He groaned.

The ring and chain were now slippery with the oil I’d rubbed into my skin. I plucked at my nipple with my free hand as I gathered the chain with my fingers until the ring was mostly trapped in the L-shape between my index finger and thumb. Securely fastened, I used that hand to squeeze my other breast, rasping that nipple with the ring.

Sneaking a peak, I saw that he was now on his knees at the edge of the circle, eyes rapt on my hands as I pleasured myself.

Stifling a laugh, I slid the hand with the ring down my abdomen, circling my navel and grazing my mound before I sank it between my thighs. His gasp echoed mine as I sank the ring and two fingers between my drenched folds. I arched my back, starting my chant with my pleasure outburst.

I don’t think he even realized when the circle opened to allow him in. I think the ring actually pulled him. Unfortunately for my professional curiosity, I was a tad distracted and didn’t watch. By the time I finished my chant, he was on his knees and naked between my splayed thighs, watching hungrily as I climaxed around my own fingers and his ring.

I subsided with a sigh, filling my gaze with him. Color. Pale skin encased those muscles. His hair was a rich, chocolate brown that had fallen from its queue and gently caressed his shoulders. His eyes were vivid blue—how nice!—and outlined with thick black lashes. Down below, his impressive cock jutted forth from a nest of sable curls. I was quite pleased that my spell had divested him of any clothing.

I withdrew wet fingers from my sex and held them out to him. Fingers, ring and chain all glistened with the juice of my sex. “Taste.”

He came back to himself for a moment. Frowned at me. “I can’t…”

“What do you think the spell was for?”

Shock, then suspicion then curiosity got the better of him. He leaned forward and grasped my wrist, astounded when he could. Seconds later, warm lips eagerly suckled on my fingers. His hum of pleasure was rusty but oh-so-sexy. He closed his eyes, blissful. Whether at the taste of me or the fact that he could taste, I had no idea and didn’t particularly care.

Not taking my fingers from his mouth, I braced with my other hand and sat up. Our positions meant that I had to drape my splayed thighs over his. He saw my movement and reached out with his free hand to snatch me against his chest.

Eagerly, he transferred his mouth from my fingers to my lips. His kiss was heady and devouring and I happily succumbed to it. His tongue sought and mastered mine. I’m sure he bruised my lips, but I pulled back before he drew blood.

“Take me,” I commanded, using my still-wet hand with the ring to encircle his cock.

He froze at the sensation, simply breathing at my neck while I slowly worked his sex. Then his entire body trembled. He opened his mouth. I think he would have spoken, but I stole the words from him.

“Fuck me.”

His neck straightened, twisting so he could fasten too-wide eyes on me. Once sure I was serious, he practically dropped me on my back and took hold of my thighs. More careful than he, I’d managed to keep hold of his cock and I guided him to my opening. He buried himself in one shuddering thrust of slim hips.

I wonder if he realized that I managed to wrap the chain with the ring loosely about the base of his cock. He didn’t seem to. Eyes closed, head thrown back, mouth in a snarl and brows low, he slammed into me in a state of orgiastic bliss. Too long denied, he could no longer be contained. I had a gasp and shut-eye moment myself, having to enjoy what was being pounded into me. He was big and he was rock solid. He felt good.

“More,” I goaded him, falling back. I put my hands back to my breasts, working my nipples as he fucked me.

I doubt he’d been such an animal back when he was alive, but after hundreds of years of death to have feeling suddenly given back, it must be a heady feeling.

He had no words, only grunts and desperate cries. Almost whimpering, he released my thighs and fell forward, bracing himself on his elbows above me. I think he liked that angle better.

“That feels so good.”. I reached around to grab his trim little butt, loving the feeling of working muscles. “Fuck me hard.”

He growled and fingers dug into my hair. He yanked my head, positioning it for the assault of his lips and tongue on my mouth. Not once did he stop the punishing rhythm of his cock in my pussy.

I felt it coming. I fancy his power gathered around us, whatever it was that kept him earthbound coalescing around our straining bodies. The ghostly wind filled my circle. His skin took on an odd temperature, almost as though it were so cold that it felt hot, or perhaps so hot it felt cold. It wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, that feeling to his cock, buried deep inside me, detonated my orgasm. I came with a scream, thrashing beneath him and tearing at the skin of his back.

He tore back from me, braced on straight arms as he thrust once more and came. Dazed, I looked up and saw brilliant white light stream from his back, piercing the ceiling. No, piercing the sky. But that wasn’t the sky that I saw.

He screamed and came still, his body locking as the ghostly wind picked up.

With a last groan, he slumped. Almost instantly, his eyes opened. Shocked, he gazed at me from where he was suspended, two feet above me.

“What…?”

I gave him a tired smile. “What did you think the spell was for?”

“No!”

I reached down and caught the chain that was still wound loosely about his cock. It was snagged in his hair. Not too gently, I yanked. Both chain and ring fell into my hand, wet with my juices. As soon as they were free of him, he started to rise toward the sky that wasn’t the sky.

“How did you…?”

“You needed to be satisfied,” I explained, having nothing to lose now. I lay back, catching my breath as I watched him slowly levitate toward the white light. “It was dissatisfaction that kept you here. That kind of exorcism is my specialty.”

He probably didn’t want to believe me, but it had worked. He didn’t even curse me. The eyes that watched me as he slowly rose were dumbfounded. Until, at the very last moment, a wry smile took his face. A smile. I hadn’t seen one of those on his face before.

“Thank you,” he said, just before he disappeared.

Available in ebook at Loose Id

Available in ebook at ARe

Available in print at Amazon

Available in print at Barnes & Noble

BLURB:

The evil witch is dead. Unfortunately, Meg killed him. With magic. A definite no-no where the Witches’ Council is concerned. If the Council can prove it, she’ll be put to death. To make matters worse, she also absorbed a hell of a lot of the witch’s power and memories and she’s barely able to contain them.

What’s a girl to do?

Rely on her shifters, of course. Michael and Rudy show every sign of sticking with her through this mess and Michael’s proven to have contacts that just might help. Wonderful of them. Except relying on them means that, Meg also has to figure out where she fits in their relationship. Is she a third wheel? Or could they really make a happy threesome?

Meg’s two for one deal has turned into more than a bargain.

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©2006 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

“Do you think that Roland was the only one of his kind?” The mild anger faded from Michael’s voice, and he dropped back further on the mattress, leaning on his elbows. The vivid green of the top sheet, the only covering on the bed, framed him beautifully. The position made his broad chest look even bigger. It also presented his nice fat cock to advantage. I knew it’d be warm, fragrant, and delicious if I let myself go to him to touch it.

I avoided looking at him.

“Think again, sweetheart. There are plenty of witches out there who’ll want you once they find out about you.”

“No one knows about me!”

“No? How did Roland find out?”

“I don’t know.”

“And that is cause enough for concern. He found you and had enough skill to tame you.”

Forgetting that I didn’t want to look at him, I rounded, hands on hips. “He didn’t tame –!”

He raised his voice, barreling over my protest. “He was damn near close! If you hadn’t called Rudy and me, even with your instinctive power, you’d be toast. Even with us, it was a close thing, and you know it. If I had been like most shifters and not known the first thing about magic, you’d be Roland’s right now.”

Just because it was true didn’t make it any easier for me to swallow. I avoided the matter of his unusual knowledge of magic. That was a topic for another time. I went back to pacing.

“Gwen can’t handle the store by herself anymore,” I grumbled. “There are bills to pay, and she’s hopeless at it.”

“You’ve mentioned that about a dozen times.”

“But you don’t seem to be understanding what I’m saying.”

“I understand just fine,” he snapped.

“Can you do any of it remotely?” Rudy suggested helpfully.

I turned and stopped, eyeing him from across the room. “No. Not all of it. I need the actual pieces of paper.”

He shrugged. “Maybe she can bring them to you after work tomorrow?”

“Good idea. What’s more important?” Michael asked. “The shop or your life?”

I glared at Michael, doing, I think, a good imitation of his snarl. “Damn it!” Fully aware I was being petulant, I stormed in to the bathroom and shut the door. I didn’t bother running water. They knew I was giving myself time to think. Or, if they didn’t, it didn’t matter.

I leaned on the sink, staring at myself. Big brown eyes glared back at me. I tried to see what attracted them. It couldn’t just be physical. I don’t think that I’m bad-looking, but I’m no raving beauty. Thanks to a very pale-skinned mother and a very dark-skinned father, I have skin that’s a rather nice shade of cocoa. My hair is long, straight, and on a good day, glossy almost-black. On a less-than-good day, a dull dark brown. My face is round, my eyes wide-spaced, and I think that my nose is a tad too broad and flat, although that’s not really overstated.

Nope, it wasn’t just physical. There was something about me. Something in my power that attracted them. Whether they were actually conscious of it, who knew? They probably weren’t. But whatever it was, they were willing to protect me. Willing to put their lives on the line. They’d already done so, once. They’d already shown a willingness to share the weight of unnatural power on my shoulders. They were the first in my life to offer such support. It felt good. It felt warm. It felt scary as hell.
My life was trickling away, becoming something I’d left New York to avoid. I came from one of the top families of witches; my mother was the grand dame of Northeast United States. I’d run from the dubious prestige of being the sixth daughter of a seventh daughter of a seventh daughter, etcetera, back to the 1200s. I craved a life of anonymity. I didn’t want to be a mundane, but I’d love a life where magic was an aid rather than a ruling principle. Keeping Michael and Rudy didn’t ensure that I’d live that kind of life.

I finally turned on the water and used it to wash the tears from my face and brush my teeth. Grimly, I ran a brush through my hair, then headed out.

They sat on the bed, talking quietly. Michael was propped up on pillows piled against the headboard, legs spread before him. Rudy sat cross-legged in the middle of the mattress, between Michael’s feet. As I entered, he immediately rolled onto his knees, facing me. Disheveled, golden-brown hair covered one of his clear blue, concerned eyes. The fact that he wasn’t aroused meant that they really had been talking and not just amusing themselves while they waited. Michael turned, directing a sullen stare at me from beneath silky black bangs.

I stared at them. Two gorgeous men with whom I’d slept repeatedly in the last few days. With whom I now shared frighteningly strong metaphysical bonds. If I skewed my vision just a bit, I’d be able to see the orange glow of the leashes I’d put on them, circling their necks and the bases of their cocks. Those leashes were magically bound to me, rooted deep in my heart and in my womb. Despite the visual feast, despite the fact that the magic made them mine, my unenviable stubborn streak rose with a vengeance. I turned and stalked toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Michael’s mild voice reached my ears.

“I’m not sleeping in here tonight.”

I heard the bed creak as Rudy bounded off it. “What?”

I turned at the door, my hand out, palm facing him.

He stopped, a look of total confusion twisting his adorable face. He spread his hands. “Meg, come on …”

“No.” I looked at Michael, knowing if I gazed too long into Rudy’s pleading eyes, I’d give.

Michael remained where he was, arms crossed, watching us. He cocked his head, his lips a line of disgust. “Stop being childish.”

Which just pissed me off more. “I’m not being childish!” Oh, yeah, that proved my point.

He rolled his eyes and turned, scooting to the edge of the bed.

“Stay where you are.”

He stood. “No.”

All six-foot-five of brawny, muscular maleness sauntered toward me. My skin tingled, anticipating his touch. I knew it so well now, craved it almost. Those green eyes fastened on me, and damned if my belly didn’t flip. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his cock start to twitch to life. The tingle between my legs told me that my pussy noticed.

I pointed at him, ignoring my body’s response. Just because it was there didn’t mean I had to give in. “I mean it, Michael. I’m not sleeping with you two tonight.”

“Why not?” Goddess, that purr!

I backed a step into the hallway.

An uncertain look in his eye, Rudy glanced back as Michael advanced. “Mike …”

Michael paid him no heed, his attention on me. He reached for my arm as he passed Rudy’s shoulder. “Come here, Meg. We’ll make you forget all about work.”

“Fuck you!”

It was childish and petty, but I did it anyway. I reached inside and yanked at the leash around his neck.

His eyes went big as he staggered backwards. His legs actually gave out, and he toppled to the carpet, arms out to catch himself. It was amazingly ungraceful, especially for him. Evidently, I’d tugged a little harder than intended. I had less control over my magic when I was pissed.

I backed to the far wall of the hallway, but Rudy dashed out the door and caught my arm. “Meg, wait.”

I dropped my gaze and concentrated on the black tribal tattoo that banded his right bicep, rather than look into those beautiful blue eyes. Even if they were in shadow, I knew them too well now, and the hurt in them would be my undoing. “Let go.” I jerked my head toward the guest bedroom. “I’m sleeping in there tonight.”

“But, Meg — Hey!” Rudy stumbled back, hand falling from my arm.

I looked up.

Michael was on his feet and stood behind Rudy, hands on his shoulders. The tension in Michael’s fingers showed me he was holding Rudy back.

Rudy frowned over his shoulder, up at Michael.

Michael stared at me, nostrils flaring only slightly. His face was blank as he slid one hand down Rudy’s shoulder, spanning his palm and fingers over one of Rudy’s pecs. “Stay.” It wasn’t exactly a command, more of a heavy request.

I shook my head. Even though my body creamed in a natural reaction to all the delicious manflesh available to me, my mind wouldn’t let me enjoy it. It was the principle of the thing. I wouldn’t allow him to command me.

Rudy reached out a hand. “Meg …”

I tore my gaze from him and entered the guest room. Neither of them followed me.

******************************

Click here for the main Leashed 2: More Than A Bargain page

It’s the first story in the Leashed universe, an alternative modern day where witches and shapeshifters are real but they aren’t known to the public at large.

This series wasn’t so much inspired by my images, but there are some images I did of the boys to help me visualize them. Seen here.

Available in ebook at Loose Id

Available in ebook at ARe

Available in ebook at Fictionwise

Available in print at Amazon

Available in print at Barnes & Noble

Available in ebook at Barnes & Noble

BLURB:

An evil witch gives Meg two weeks to join his coven. Or else. The deadline? Samhain.

What’s a good witch to do?

Magic, of course. She casts an age-old summoning spell to attract a shapeshifter to leash for her protection. It works, but it’s a two for one deal: Rudy, a werewolf, and Michael, a werejaguar.

The excerpt at the buy link above is a good one to get an idea of the story, so I’ve included a steamier excerpt here.

********************************
©2005 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

We were all silent with our thoughts. Michael sat up, gaze pointed toward my bookshelf but I doubted my paperback collection was his focus. Rudy sank back in my chair, brimming with expectation. I stayed very still and watched Michael. He was quite obviously the leader of the two and he knew way more about the situation than I could have hoped. I felt pretty confident that, with him on my side, I could stave off Roland.

Of course, with him at my side, I’d love to do a bunch of other things. Afternoon sunlight streamed through the sheers on the window behind the couch, touching off mahogany highlights in his hair. It my have been fancy, but I’m pretty sure that I could see the ghost of the rosettes that would decorate his hide when he changed to a jaguar.

Jaguar. Sleek, silent, deadly. Top of the food chain in the rainforests of South America, if I remembered my high school studies correctly. Studying his profile, I could almost see the beast in the rounded tip of his nose and the curve of his jaw. Certainly those striking eyes were the mark of a beast. My heart stuttered as I drank in the line of his neck, watched the thumping of his pulse. Dropping my gaze down to the wide expanse of his chest and the bunching of the muscles of his arms, I wondered what those muscles felt like. I wanted to squeeze them, to see if they were as hard as they looked.

Dropping my gaze to my lap, I indulged myself with a fantasy, imagining him in his other form. Was he a yellow jaguar, or black? Was he as thick and muscular in the other form? He would have the same green eyes, the one thing about a shifter that didn’t change even if the pupil shape altered. Would his fur be soft and smooth or glossy and thick? And what about Rudy? Tall and lanky, I’d bet he was one of those slim wolves All compact power ready to be released like a spring lock. Was his pelt the same sunny brown as his hair? I’d actually touched wolves before, shifters even. I’d felt the coarse outer layer of fur and burrowed my fingers in to discover the soft, down hair beneath.

They were mine! Unbelievable! Two dangerous predators, made even more so by human intellect, and they were there to protect me. It was a heady feeling. A rush of power. Not to mention the fact that either one of them could give me masturbation material for weeks on end, just wondering what it would be like to…

“Stop that,” Michael growled.

I snapped open my eyes, not having realized I’d closed them. ”Stop what?”

“You’re playing with my leash.” He glanced at Rudy. “With both of our leashes.”

I glanced at Rudy to see him sprawled back on my comfy chair, a hot grin on his lips and his eyes at half mast. Glancing down—I couldn’t help it—I saw a discernable bulge in his jeans.

Blushing, I focused on my hands in my lap. “Sorry. I didn’t know you could feel it too.”

“You really didn’t know?”

I glared at Michael. “I’ve never leashed anyone before.”

“But you’ve been around those who have.”

“And I think I told you that I’m a horrible student. I never thought that I’d cast the spell so I never really paid much attention.”

“Why wouldn’t you cast it?”

“I don’t like the idea of owning anyone.” I tried to convey the truth with my eyes, willing him to believe me. “I really wouldn’t have called you if I wasn’t desperate for help.”

Like the burgeoning dawn, a smile grew on his face, and it was devastating to my poor little heart. I think my breasts actually swelled and I know something inside my belly burst and leaked out between my thighs. He startled me by switching from the coffee table to the couch beside me. I couldn’t help the small cry that escaped my lips as I shrank back from him. He faced me, one knee folded before him and the other bent over the side. He leaned in, sliding his arm over the back of the couch to take a lock of my hair between his fingers. “What you were doing felt like a caress. Like you were running your hands through my fur, but more.” His voice had gone all low and husky and his eyes hooded even further. The combination did terrible things to my heart rate. “What did you feel?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

I jumped, yelping slightly, when Rudy bounded from the chair and dropped to his knees before me. Boldly, he pressed his belly to my knees, leaning into me like a dog might. “Don’t say that. I liked it.” He batted his eyes ridiculously at me. “Do it again.” I giggled. Couldn’t help but laugh at the puppy at my feet. I sank my fingers into the waves at his temple and he leaned into the caress, closing his eyes and smiling. I gave in to the temptation to scratch and he hummed happily, letting his tongue loll a little to the side, I think to make me giggle. Which I did. When my giggle subsided, he opened his eyes. They’d gone all half-lidded and slumberous. His hands slid up the outside of my thighs. “Do it again.”

I took a deep breath. The cute wolf was fanning the flames that the sexy cat had started somewhere in my womb. I knew that shifters could smell sexual arousal, and mine was going to soak my couch soon if I didn’t stop this. I gently straightened the hair I’d mussed around his ear. “Listen, maybe you should go back to sit in your chair.”

“Awww.” Instead, he sank down in my lap, chest on my thighs, nose practically in my belly button. Abruptly, he switched his grip on my thighs so he could pull them apart. He inhaled deeply. “You don’t really want me way over there, do you?” I pushed his shoulders to stop him from pressing in between my legs. Didn’t work. “C’mon, Rudy. Time to stop.”

“Don’t wanna,” he muttered into my navel. My t-shirt didn’t seem to be a barrier for his nuzzling. I grabbed his hair with both hands to stop him from getting to my breasts.

He opened his eyes to meet my gaze. Big blue eyes touched off something deep in my chest. “I don’t know you,” I told him sternly.

“Don’t you?” I glanced at Michael, who was watching us with … interest? Was that what I saw in that hooded gaze? “You called to us.”

“I didn’t call to you directly. I called to…” I trailed off, at a loss to explain it.

“To something within us that attracts us to you.”

“Us?”

Michael smiled. So unfair! A girl couldn’t possibly defend herself from that.

To prove the point, Rudy somehow managed to escape my hold on his hair and his hot, wet mouth closed over my nipple. I gasped. Did I even have a t-shirt and bra on?

“Wait…” I breathed, but Rudy wasn’t listening. His arms circled my waist to pull me closer, his teeth and tongue busy making my nipple love him.

I should use the leash. I should stop this. I remember thinking that very clearly. I still wasn’t even sure if Rudy was legal! I think I even started to gather the magic. But then Michael slid between me and the back of the couch. And where had his t-shirt gone?!

Never had I had the pleasure of being sandwiched between two gorgeous male bodies. Never had I melted into a puddle of goo while one feasted on my breast and the other reached inside my shirt to undo my bra. Nearly perfectly synchronized, Michael drew my shirt and bra up to my chin and Rudy left then returned to my nipple, still humming.

“OK, guys, stop,” I moaned, my tone mismatched with my words. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Oh yes we do,” Michael murmured. He nudged my head to the side with his nose and drew back my hair, exposing my neck for a long, wet slide of his tongue. “That’s what good little pets do.”

I squirmed, hating his word choice. “I don’t… You’re not pets.”

Rudy actually whined. “Please,” he spoke against my breast. “I want to be your pet.”

I stared at him, then gasped when Michael bit my neck. “It’s part of the leashing.”

His hands slid up to fondle my breasts as Rudy leaned back to concentrate on removing my jeans.

“No, it’s not,” I protested, fighting feebly. Rudy batted my hands aside.

“But it is,” Michael purred. Literally purred. I’d heard that big cats don’t actually purr. Whether or not that’s true, shapeshifters do purr. His chest beneath my back actually vibrated. It was a yummy feeling, like a hard, sexy buzzy mat. “Your pain is our pain. Your pleasure is our pleasure.”

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Click here for the main Leashed: Two For One Deal page