Welcome to another Snippet Saturday! Today’s theme is villain POV. Check out my excerpt from an oldie of mine, This Spells Trouble, and then blog hop to the blogs listed below. Happy Saturday!
Arianna’s a holistic witch who tries to stay out of trouble. But trouble finds her when the Hell’s Ball she’s attending lives up to its name. She meets a cocky vampire who’s creating havoc on her hormones. But he’s also her only hope at getting through the night alive.
Jake’s a casino investigator, working undercover as a bartender on Halloween night. When a sexy, green-eyed witch becomes the targeted victim for a sacrifice ritual, he’ll go to any lengths to save her. Especially when he realizes she may be more to him than just another casual lover.
Lifting the cigar to his mouth, Armon took a long pull on it. When he exhaled, he blew perfect rings of the fragrant smoke into the air.
His men were scattered around the private room, watching him in
silence, waiting for further instructions.
“Should we find another woman?” Sergio finally asked. “We have
less than two hours until midnight. Perhaps we should—”
“No.” Armon waved a hand to cut him off and raised the cigar to
his mouth again.
“Sir, please help me understand why we let her go. She was ours. The moment I bit her, she was ours.”
“Yes. She is ours.” Armon’s mouth curved into a humorless smile. “But knowing that our little witch has connections with Jacob Sealey
changes the situation a bit.”
Sergio frowned. “You know the man who took her?”
“Yes. I do.” He blew another ring. “He sent the hunter two
centuries ago to kill Lucius.”
There was a moment of silence and then growls of fury from his
“We should kill him tonight along with the witch, Sir.”
“I agree, which is why I allowed Jacob to take our witch for the
time being.” He crushed the cigar out on the table. “Despite that little
show he put on in the alley, our vampire cares very much for the witch.”
“Do you really think so, Sir?”
“I do.” He nodded slowly. “And I want him to watch while you all
take your turns fucking her. Then I want to see him beg for her life to be
spared—right before you cut her throat and fill the chalice with her life‐
“My kind of plan.” Sergio smiled and looked around the room.
“And then we’ll kill Jacob Sealey?”
“Yes. And then we’ll kill Jacob.” Excitement pulsed through his
blood. “Finally, he will take responsibility for the death of our loving
“So what should we do now?” another man asked.
“Find the girl. I sense she is once again alone.” He stood up and
smoothed a wrinkle on his shirt. “Get her, and Jacob will come.”
His men rushed from the small room, and he sat alone with his
One chalice of blood was already filled from the first sacrifice. After
Arianna’s blood filled the second, they would drink under the full moon
at midnight and perform the required chant. Then, if all went as planned,
Lucius would be returned.
Yes, it would be a lovely night indeed. The death of the man he
loathed and the resurrection of the one he loved.
Mandy M Roth
Welcome to another Snippet Saturday. Today’s theme is workplace. Check out the opening scene from my upcoming book Foreign Affair. This is the very first book I wrote, and is being released as a previously published book by Samhain in February. and then blog hop to the other blogs listed!
Lena Richards kept a bright smile pasted on her face as she listened to her obnoxious client ramble on about Aspen. Be cheerful. Don’t let her know you’d like to take a butter knife to those plastic breasts.
“I want the most exclusive lodge. Not some Travel Channel knockoff deal of the week.” Her client tossed her head, but the platinum curls didn’t budge. “This is my honeymoon, for Christ’s sake.”
“Of course.” Lena gave an understanding nod. The woman wore enough dead animals to open a postmortem zoo. Beyond her clothing and accessories, nothing about the woman looked real, and she hadn’t shut up since she’d entered the travel agency. She was like one of those yakking dolls with a pull string. Only this doll had a rack like a porn star and the personality of a pit bull.
“I don’t care what the cost. I’ll make my fiancé put it on his credit card.”
“A honeymoon is special. You deserve nothing but the best. Let me find some brochures and information on Aspen for you.” Lena’s mouth curved into a smile as she opened the file cabinet to her right. “I’m actually getting married mysel—”
“I don’t give a damn if it’s my honeymoon or my weekend off. There’s nothing more appalling than middle-class lodgings.” The woman crossed her legs, and her gaze moved over Lena. Her lips thinned in obvious distaste.
What a bitch. Lena’s mouth tightened as she searched for the Aspen folder.
No doubt, she was being written off as some Wal-Mart shopping Pollyanna from Hicksville.
All right, maybe she didn’t own a Louis Vuitton purse, and she didn’t own some jacket made up of dead, skinned animal—not that she’d want to. She worked at an upscale travel boutique. It brought in enough to pay the bills and keep her dressed well, but in no way did it give her an allowance to support a Hollywood wardrobe.
Lena forced her warmest smile. “Give me just a moment, Miss Monroe.”
Carolyn Monroe. Fifty bucks said the woman had her name changed legally so she could thrive on a dead woman’s fame.
“Ah, here we are.” Lena placed the folder on the oak desk that separated them.
As she sifted through for a particular brochure, she noticed Miss Monroe eyeing a box of imported French truffles sitting on Lena’s desk.
“Another client brought those in. Please, have one.” Lena slid the box toward her.
The woman looked horrified. “I couldn’t. Do you realize how much fat is in just one?”
Yes, have five. Lena smiled and murmured, “I try not to look at the nutrition label on those things.”
“Well, you should.”
Lena drew in a deep, calming breath and kept the smile on her face. This woman just begged to be slapped. She found the brochure she needed and set it aside, then took out a couple more.
“These are the more exclusive lodges. I might also add that the one on top is famous for celebrity sightings.”
As she’d predicted, Miss Monroe’s eyes lit up with pleasure, and she snatched the paper from her hand. “I’ll look these over and get back to you.”
“When is the wedding, if I might ask?”
The woman’s lips thinned. Interesting. Had it been because of the question? Or perhaps a little turbulence in the engagement?
“Early summer, I imagine. My fiancé is an architect in New York. We’re still working out the relocating bit.” Miss Monroe stood, slipping a purse that cost more than Lena made in a week over her shoulder. “Thank you for your help, Leah.”
“It’s Lena,” Lena corrected, but the woman had one foot out the door already.
Mandy M Roth
Welcome to another Snippet Saturday, today’s theme is Author’s Choice. I posted a snippet from Command and Control. I love the story of Trevor and Megan. There’s so much pain there, so much emotional healing needed between these two. Check out my excerpt below and then blog hop to the various blogs listed!
He’s afraid of losing his grip. She’s about to untie his last knot…
Holding Out for a Hero, Book 2
Megan Asher has a thriving career, looks, self-confidence to spare. It all means little without the love of her life. Trevor has returned from deployment in Afghanistan a haunted man, emotionally distant and unwilling to connect—except in bed. Then even that fragile thread snaps. Brokenhearted, she is forced to call off their wedding and, after a few months’ separation, try to move on.
With every aspect of his life spinning out of his once-legendary control, Trevor Wyatt convinces himself that Megan is better off—and safer—as far away from his demons as possible. Until he comes back to town for his brother’s wedding, and discovers Megan is dating.
Suddenly realizing what he’s thrown away, he vows to breach the fortress she’s built around her heart. They come together in a cataclysm of rekindled passion that unleashes the very demons he never wanted her to witness.
Back to square one, Megan realizes she must take the ultimate risk to slip past Trevor’s defenses. Give him control in the one place she can. The bedroom. The seductive move is one she prays will be the first step in helping heal him and their love.
Samhain Publishing| Amazon|Barnes and Noble
Trevor’s mouth curved into a slight smile, but there was no humor in his eyes.
“Henry, let me call you back in a few minutes.” She replaced the receiver before he could answer.
Leaning back in her chair, Megan crossed one leg over another and watched Trevor calmly. Even if her heart was racing a mile a minute, she prided herself on her control. Her ability not to react. Having the upper hand was not just a benefit for her, it was a requirement.
“Trevor,” she finally greeted cordially. “How can I help you?”
“Now there’s a loaded question, angel,” he said softly as his gaze slid over her, lingering on the silk camisole beneath her open blazer that hugged her breasts.
“I’ve got a few ideas on just exactly how you could help me.”
Megan’s breath hitched at his not-so-subtle implication. Her breasts swelled beneath his gaze and a liquid heat seared through her body and gathered heavy between her legs.
Keep the control, Megan. You can’t let him see how much he affects you still.
“Perhaps you could be more specific?” She arched a brow. “And if this is legal advice, you realize I have a fee.”
He laughed, the deep, sexy sound sending a wave of shivers down her back.
“I’m not here for legal advice, Megan.”
“No? Then what are you here for? Because, in case you haven’t noticed, Trevor, I’m working. And I can’t spend my time—”
“Planning dates with a guy named Henry?”
So he’d heard that? A flush worked its way up her neck, but she kept her expression impassive.
“Why are you here, Trevor?” she asked again.
“You’ll have to tell him no.”
Megan stilled. “Excuse me?”
“Henry boy. You’ll have to tell him that you can’t have dinner with him tonight.”
This time she let out a slow, throaty laugh that had his eyes darkening further.
“And why is that?” she asked.
“Because you’re having dinner with me.”
The hell she was. Megan let the smile on her face become a bit sympathetic.
“I find it best not to go to dinner with my exes,” she murmured and pushed back her chair to stand. “Now if you’ll excuse me—”
“Because there’s so many of them? Exes?” Trevor asked, standing as well and blocking her escape from where she’d been about to slip past him. “We were together for two years and before that, I remember you saying there was no one serious.”
Annoyance sparked in her belly and it pricked her to realize she probably wasn’t hiding it from her eyes now. “This is all a bit irrelevant, Trevor. I’m not having dinner with you.”
He slowly made his way around her desk, and she took a few steps backward, her pulse quickening and her mouth going dry.
“Come on, angel, just admit it,” he said softly, advancing upon her. “The idea of dinner with Henry does nothing for you.”
“Henry happens to be a very nice man,” she said quickly, her back literally against the wall now.
Oh God, if he came any closer—and there, damn it he did! Their knees were nearly bumping now. She drew in a sharp breath, but it only filled her head with the scent of him. His shampoo and soap that was painfully familiar. The faint hint of his cologne. Megan had the urge to nuzzle his neck, to flick her tongue and see if he still tasted the same.
You’re crazy, Megan, get it together.
“Tell me about this Henry guy,” he commanded softly, his gaze sliding over her face, searching her eyes.
“Does he wear starched suits and bowties?”
“Actually, he doesn’t.” They were just regular ties.
Her heart thumped wildly against her rib cage and the proximity of his body to hers had every tiny hair on the back of her neck lifting up in awareness. Why oh why didn’t she share an office with anyone? Most of her days were spent on the phone with clients, answering e-mails or doing paperwork, but very rarely did anyone come in.
She was alone with Trevor unless she forced him to leave. And right now—though her brain was screaming at her to throw him out on his cocky ass—her body was begging him to stay. To stop just looking at her and to touch her. Because she missed him so much. She missed being held in his arms and kissing him. Touching him. Talking…though the talking had ended long before the kissing had.
Every muscle in her body was coiled with tension. With need.
“I’ve always loved you like this, Megan.” He reached out and traced the lapel of her blazer. “But you know that, don’t you? All prim and proper in your trim little suits.”
“Nobody could possibly know by looking at you just what a little animal you are in bed,” he muttered thickly, his fingers gliding back up her lapel and then inward, to trace the neckline of her silk camisole.
“How when you come hard you can scar up a man’s back with those claws of yours.”
His words had her biting back a throaty moan. Even as her nipples tightened and dampness gathered in her panties. She could see it in her head. Could almost feel his cock pounding into her again as the weight of his body pinned hers to the bed.
No, sex won’t fix anything.
“Remember that time when we first started dating, when I fucked you in this office?” he asked. “When I bent you over that desk right over there, lifted your skirt, pushed those tiny panties you love to wear aside and just took you?”
Her sex clenched with an ache to be filled, because she did remember. But she shook her head, trying to make him stop verbalizing such a sensual memory.
“Remember how you begged me, angel?” He smiled. “’Cause I sure do.”
“Does Henry make you feel like this? Does he know that kissing the small of your back makes you whimper like a bitch in heat?” His voice dropped an octave as his finger dipped under the neckline of her top to caress the swell of her breasts.
Push him away. Tell him to stop. But she couldn’t. Didn’t want to.
“Or when he’s sucking on your tits, are you biting your tongue not to call out my name?”
“Trevor,” she pleaded huskily, arching into his touch.
“Yeah. Just like that.” And then his head descended, his mouth slanting across hers.
Megan couldn’t have resisted even if she’d wanted to. She cried out as his lips plundered her, as his tongue thrust fiercely against hers as if to remind her just who was kissing her. As if she could ever, ever forget.
Mandy M Roth