Marked

Purple Sword Publications, LLC

Heat Rating: Steamy
Word Count: 17,731
0 Ratings (0.0)

Once in a blue moon, a witch will find what she wants where she least expects it.

Events planner Tabitha Richardson had no idea what she signed on for when she picked up a job for Atlanta’s most eligible bachelor. Russell, while gorgeous and the immediate star of her fantasies, also has a darker side. He is a werewolf, and the full moon is fast approaching. But he isn’t the only one with secrets to keep. Tabitha is harboring a big one right alongside her crush on Russell, and that secret is witchcraft.

When she decides to throw caution to the wind and indulge in her desires, she finds that she has bitten off much more than she can chew. The only question is, will she make it out alive?

Marked
0 Ratings (0.0)

Marked

Purple Sword Publications, LLC

Heat Rating: Steamy
Word Count: 17,731
0 Ratings (0.0)
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Cover Art by Traci Markou
Excerpt

“Welcome to the Blue Moon Ball,” he boomed. Russell needed no microphone; his voice was loud, clear, and held a sharp, sensual edge that slithered down Tabitha’s spine and seated itself firmly in the pit of her belly. “It is good to see so many old friends and to greet so many new ones. As you know, tonight is special to all of us.” Murmurs of assent passed through the crowd. She motioned subtly, and as they had practiced earlier, Tabitha and her staff moved into place around the room. Everyone had a full glass when he next spoke. “We come together tonight to celebrate our heritage and to present our future. I ask you all, please enjoy your night.” As he spoke, she noticed that the candles on the table behind him were caught in a draft and sputtering like they would go out. She was not going to have that.

Tabitha narrowed her eyes and willed the candles to catch again, adding a protective block above and to the side to deflect the draft from the overhead vents. They flared slightly, then continued to burn as if nothing were wrong. Russell paused for only a second, and from across the room, she saw his nose twitch.

Uh-oh….

“The third full moon in this season of four will peak soon, but until that time, let our celebration commence!” His gaze zeroed in on her from across the room as he stepped down from the podium, and Tabitha felt herself drawn to him by some invisible, magnetic force. He seemed to see no one else in the room, his concentration was so strong. When he walked, he moved with a sense of purpose unmatched by anyone she’d ever seen before. She needed to run, to move away and busy herself with some chore that she had invariably missed, but the room seemed to part as if he were Moses standing before the Red Sea, and the path led him directly to her. She could not make her feet move.

“Fantastic evening,” Russell said, another of his predatory smiles curling his lips. His teeth gleamed white under the sparkling light of the ballroom, and they looked very sharp.

Had his facial hair grown since he entered the room? She could have sworn he was mostly clean-shaven this morning.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Mr. Tennyson?”

“Russell,” he corrected, “and yes, I am.” He leaned close to her and inhaled deeply. Rather than moving away, he lingered for a moment, those sinful eyes locking on to hers in an almost challenge. What would have been a creepy move on anyone else was absolutely flattering coming from him. “You smell delectable.”

Tabitha stifled a gasp. “Thank you?”

He chuckled as he righted himself. “You are very welcome.” He plucked the last glass from her tray and raised it toward her. “To a beautiful evening, prepared by a beautiful woman.” Tabitha giggled a bit maniacally and took a step backward, toward the kitchen. A large, neon sign in her mind pointed to him and blinked the word DANGER over and over again.

“Let me go refill this tray.”

“Wait.” He caught her wrist to stop her, and his skin nearly burned, it was so warm. “Miss Richardson.”

“Tabitha.”

“Tabitha.” His eyes were mesmerizing...she could easily get lost in them. “Dance with me first.” He spun her out to the side before she could respond, taking her fingers in the hand that held his glass and curling his other arm around her waist. She gasped, and he laughed, a deep, rich sound that vibrated all the way to her toes. They were close enough that her breasts brushed against his chest with each step he took. The scent of expensive cologne filled the air around her, and she fought not to press her nose to his throat and breathe him in. He smelled good. He looked good. She was willing to bet he tasted pretty good too.

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