Guest Author: Angelina Rain…His Guardian Witch

by Angelina Rain 

Is love stronger than magic?
Morgan has never encountered a spell she couldn’t cast or a curse she couldn’t break. With her natural knack for witchcraft, she runs a magic store that helps others. When a handsome but cursed man walks into her store, she is pit against magic stronger than her own.
Daniel lived an ordinary life before he ended up on a witch’s bad side and was jinxed with non-stop bad luck. Out of sheer desperation he visits Morgan’s Magic Shop. Morgan agrees to help him and they must work together to find the witch and pinpoint the hex she used in order to undo it. As they search, feelings ignite and a romance blossoms. Will this bad luck spell end their love, or will their love be strong enough to break the incantation?
Be Warned: sex toys
Morgan opened her eyes and watched as the glittering aura lights danced before her. They reached the window and passed through the glass on the way to the girl. Once all the lights were gone, she glanced at Daniel. A big smile crossed his handsome face, but her attention went below it. A rock rose inside his pants, large and long. She gulped, and the need to see it minus his jeans suddenly grew too strong.
No, she shouldn’t look. Instead she closed her eyes and tried to conjure up more peaceful images of nature and sunlight. Those images didn’t come though. Instead, she saw her silky bedroom sheets.
Her body lay on those sheets, writhing in passion as her legs spread open and in the air. Daniel’s head bobbed between her thighs, and his tongue lapped at her warm, natural juices.
She gulped, gasped, and opened her eyes.
His lustful gaze met hers. Lust that matched her own and her heart pulsed fast inside her chest. Her center grew damp, and she longed for his touch.
“I think your thoughts were similar to mine.”
She didn’t reply to Daniel’s statement. Instead, Morgan tried to stand. Her knees grew weak as she rose to her feet.
Daniel stood, too. “You can’t deny you were thinking about it, too.”
“I wasn’t denying anything.”
He crossed to her and wrapped his arms around her back. Warmth filtered through her, and Morgan felt herself blush. When he spoke, his breath tickled her skin. “I was thinking about how good it would be to lay you down in my bed.”
“You don’t have a bed. It was stolen.”
His chuckling made her wetter. There was something so sexy about his voice. “The floor, then.” Daniel pulled her closer to himself until she rubbed against him. His hard cock pressed into her navel, and she tilted her head upward to meet his gaze. His lips brushed hers. The kiss started tender and slow. She opened her mouth to invite him inside.
She lay on the floor, his body pressing into hers. His hands touched her sides, slipping under her shirt. His lips left hers and instead kissed her neck. He found her breasts, rubbing his palms over her nipples. Only the thin lace of her bra separated her flesh from his.
Morgan moaned. The need inside her multiplied, and she wanted to touch him, feel him, taste him. She flipped him over until she was on top and he on the bottom. She raked her fingertips over his chest and abs, feeling the hard muscle beneath the black t-shirt. But feeling and seeing were two different things, and she wanted to see. Taking the hem of his shirt, she raised it until his smooth and taut skin lay open for her to feast on. She ran her tongue over the ridges of his six-pack.
Daniel inhaled sharply, and she smiled as she kissed him right below the belly button. Morgan glanced at the trail of hair leading to somewhere below his pants. She undid the button, her hands on the zipper.
“Is this supposed to happen?”
She tried to glance at his face, but who was she kidding? The hardness in his pants was more appealing. “You mean the hard-on. It means you’re excited. It’s totally natural.”
Morgan met his eye, and he shook his head. His gaze moved somewhere beside and beyond her. “No, I mean is the candle supposed to fly?”
“Shit!” Morgan pushed away from Daniel. She watched, bewildered, as black and dark blue winds danced around the room. The candle was high off the floor.
“I’m guessing something is wrong.”
“Very wrong.”
The flame didn’t go out despite the sudden winds in the room. It rose, high and strong and fierce. Then the wind died quickly. The candle dropped to the floor. Flames danced over the hardwood planks. The fire happened too quickly to be natural. Some sort of magical force was behind it.
“Come on, we have to go!” She urged him by pulling his arm until he stood and ran behind her. Once they were outside, her fingers fumbled with the buttons on her phone as she dialed 911. Daniel stood beside her. His face was white, whiter than the nice tan he had all day. “What…” He stuttered. “What just happened?”
“The spell didn’t work. Peace and forgiveness didn’t get to her. Something repelled them, and her anger came at us, manifesting itself as the wind. This spell is stronger than I first thought. Something or someone is controlling it.”



COVER REVEAL and Release Date!!

I’m thrilled to share my newest cover. A Ghost for Christmas releases on December 6th at Evernight Publishing.

After receiving a long weekend at an elegant hotel beside the majestic Niagara Falls as a Christmas gift, Jodie Gibson is determined to do nothing but relax and enjoy the scenery. And, okay, just maybe meet someone who makes her toes curl.

Sebastian is sophisticated, tall, dark and gorgeous–everything a woman fantasizes about. But he’s also an 18th century ghost. He haunts the halls of the hotel, seeking the one true love that can help him find peace… 

Insatiable Need by Rosalie Stanton

Insatiable Need is a new story with an old premise—a premise beyond the “sex spell.” It’s the first of my works to be completely rewritten and repackaged, and the effort of taking the skeleton of a story and molding it into something else entirely is something I wasn’t sure I could accomplish.
I came into writing original fiction after having spent years writing fan-fiction, and I definitely believe this much is evident in my early works. Insatiable Need in its original format was perhaps the greatest offender, and while I was glad to have a story out at the time, the setting, characters, and so on never really felt like they were mine. I had spent so much time playing in another writer’s sandbox, building epic skyscrapers and castles that the notion of returning to my own was very daunting. Therefore, I couldn’t help but sneak in some of the other author’s blueprints. Granted, there are several well known fanfic authors who have gone on to produce wildly popular fiction. Yet for all the financial success this might bring, I learned something in the years between publishing Possession and then redoing it as Insatiable Need.
I like creating, and I like creating my own characters so much more than playing with someone else’s. When the terms of my original contract expired, I leapt at the opportunity to take this story and turn it into something I could call mine. Everything about the characters changed, including their roles, appearances, relationship, circumstances, and their resolution. As its author, I liked the story before; now I absolutely love it, and I hope readers do, too—even those that expressed their misgivings about such a dramatic overhaul.
Thanks to all for reading, and good luck in the giveaway!
By Rosalie Stanton
Paranormal Erotic Romance
Ever since Raegan Pritchett discovered Private Investigator Zeth McDowell’s penchant to occasionally go a little furry, she has been vocal in her fervent dislike of him and other werewolves. Still, that doesn’t stop her from shuffling into his office every time she needs a source for her stories.
Raegan has had a vendetta against werewolves ever since her college best friend was found in several pieces at the hand of her werewolf boyfriend. However, when a psychic claims a local priest plans to summon a dangerous demon—a demon that will strip the town’s inhibitions and have citizens surrender to their innermost forbidden fantasies—Raegan has nowhere to turn but Zeth McDowell, the annoyingly sexy private investigator she loves to hate.
Neither Raegan nor Zeth know how to stop a demon, but they still aim to try. Yet when the demon’s spell triggers, it turns out Zeth and Raegan’s innermost fantasies involve each other.
This wasn’t part of the plan.
“Someone does something they’ve always thought about doing and suddenly all this superstitious mumbo jumbo doesn’t seem quite so funny,” Zeth mused, only half aware he was voicing his thoughts.
“Exactly,” Raegan agreed, her shoulders dropping. “So are you going to help me, or what?”
“Help you?”
She gave him one of those looks that managed to make him feel three inches tall and hard as a fucking rock at the same time. “I. Want. To. Stop. O’Brien. Have you been tuning me out this whole time?”
“Well, I tried, but some things did get through.”
“I hate you.”
“To be fair, I know that.” Zeth sighed. “So what do you want me to do? I’m your Deep Throat. You’ve only ever come to me for a good story.”
“Well, shit, Zeth, I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
“I forgive you.”
Raegan’s eyes blazed dangerously, but she ignored the remark. “Yeah, you’re my Deep Throat. You just so happen to also be the only person I know who might be able to stop the crazy man from making everyone go coo coo for Cocoa Puffs. Silly me for thinking you might actually wanna do something nice for someone.”
A half a dozen retorts sat waiting on his tongue—little things he could say that would get her to the point where she’d just as soon leap across the desk and strangle him as accept any help he offered. And as much fun as Zeth had in stoking the fire, he found himself now feeling the beast called guilt raising its unwanted head.
As much fun as it would be seeing all of Highfield doing the walk of shame, Zeth was a sucker for a damsel in distress. And Raegan was definitely distressed.
Furthermore, Zeth wasn’t such an asshole not to understand why. If Jezebel was summoned, if Jezebel did ride into town on the clouds of chaos, it put everyone at risk. Sure, a person might rob a liquor store. A person also might finally do in his boss. And Raegan had witnessed enough death. She’d seen her fill the night her friend was ripped to shreds.
For the first time, Raegan Pritchett wasn’t here as a reporter. Whether she admitted it or not, she was here as a friend.
And she was asking him for help.
And only a true son of a bitch could look into her pretty brown eyes and say no. Try as he might, Zeth wasn’t a true son of a bitch.
“All right,” Zeth said softly.
She stared at him. It clearly wasn’t the answer she expected. “All right? All right, what?”
“All right, I’m in.” He smiled, biting back a smirk when her face fell, her defense mechanisms and ire melting in favor of genuine astonishment.
Though that she was surprised at all to discover he wasn’t the aforementioned son of a bitch smarted more than it should.
Raegan’s gaze dropped to the space between them. “Oh. I mean, good. That’s good.”
“Yeah. So we off to church, then? That the plan?”
No response at first. Instead, her astonishment lingered, faded, then disappeared altogether. Perhaps she hadn’t had a plan beyond coming here and pestering him. His cooperation had seemingly thrown her for a loop. “Yeah,” Raegan said, sounding every bit the part of someone forming a plan as she spoke. “The church. Harriet said that’s where I’d find what I was looking for. There’s a room there, or something. On the second floor. We go there, we stop him, game over.”
“Game over.” Zeth bounced to his feet. “You lead the way.”
“I do?”
“Might be dangerous, oh captain my captain. And you’re the boss.”
“You’re the werewolf!”
“That’s species-ism. Not a good color on you.”
“Bite me.”
Zeth grinned. “Don’t tempt me. And I might be the wolf, cutie-pie, but like I said, you’re the boss. This is your rodeo. Far as I’m concerned, I’m just the Deep Throat.”
Ah, the fire returned at that. As though right then she remembered exactly who she was, who she was with, and the nature of their working relationship. “I’ll deep-throat you,” she muttered, then squeaked, her cheeks turning red. “I mean, um, asshole.”
Zeth chuckled as he made his way around the desk, doing his best to bat away the array of pornographic images immediately flooded his over-sexed mind. Hell, his cock was already hard just in talking with her. Whenever she slipped up, whenever she made the smallest remark bordering near a double entendre, his overtly male brain couldn’t help concocting a delicious fantasy involving her naked on a bed somewhere, her legs parted and her mouth open.
And since nature had given him a heightened sense of smell, he knew when she got excited around him, and it was more often than she’d like to let on.
“Just name the place,” he replied at last. “I’ll be there, pants down.”
“I hate you,” Raegan said again, blushing furiously and not looking at him.
“You’re welcome. Let’s go find your priest.”
For a chance to win one of Rosalie’s backlist titles, please leave a question/comment below, along with your email address. Winner will be drawn Sept 18th.