The link to purchase it at Resplendence Publishing is: http://www.resplendencepublishing.com/m8_view_item.html?m8:item=14-201-107-405-2
WARNING: ADULT CONTENT
Here's the excerpt for TIGER'S EYE. It received a 5 blue-ribbon review from Romance Junkies.
Jake Hunter gripped the steering wheel as he navigated his Jeep on the narrow, winding road that lead to Bride’s Inn. Around him, the snow swirled in a gusty wind, as a blinding blizzard pelted Long Island with snow. A Bluetooth lay imbedded against his ear as he drove through the night. He slid his foot to the brake as he slowed the big Jeep, maneuvering a curve in the road.
A voice came over the Bluetooth, echoing in Jake’s ear. “I think you should come back to the office, this is crazy. To be out on a night like this!”
Jake glanced at the newspaper article sticking out from his briefcase on the seat next to him. The title read, ‘Mysterious Lady in White foils robbery at seventy-year-old Long Island, Gold Coast mansion.”
Gold Coast. Mansion. Those words rang in his head as he inched his Jeep up a steep hill.
“Jake, it isn’t worth it. Turn around and go home.”
He swerved, avoiding something in the road then continued his trek up the hill. “I’m almost there, Mike,” Jake replied, narrowing his eyes when the Jeep cleared the top of an incline. Soon, a large three-story home came into view. The road and surrounding area lay in darkness, but up ahead Jake thought he saw a light flicker in a first-floor window. Like a welcoming beacon, a candle glowed, beckoning him. “I can see Bride’s Inn now. It’s…”
“What?” Mike asked.
Jake shook his head. “Well, it’s dark, but from what I can make out, it’s one of the most beautiful homes I’ve ever seen.” He pulled the Jeep into the long drive, maneuvering through the deep snow. Thank God for four-wheel drive!
Mike sighed. “It damn well should be for all the effort you’re putting into this.”
Jake couldn’t say what made him obsess about Bride’s Inn. Maybe his burning curiosity to see its resident ghost, ‘the Lady in White,’ or maybe he just needed a change. Something to fill the empty void his wife’s death had created.
His eyes opened wide when he saw a tree in his headlights. Jake hit the brakes, his car careening out of control. When it stopped, he realized he had plowed into a deep pile of snow that drifted near the main entrance to the house.
“Jake? You there?”
Jake sighed into his mouthpiece. “Yeah.” He gripped the steering wheel and glanced around. He sat back against the seat. “I’m here. Literally. The front end of my Jeep is sitting in a snow drift.” He shook his head.
“Shit. I knew it. Just—”
“I’m fine, Mike.”
Mike blew out a long-suffering sigh. “You’re nuts. Now what are you going to do? Its three thirty in the morning.”
Jake sat up when he saw the front door to Bride’s Inn open. An elderly woman and a younger, very pregnant one stood in the doorway. Candles glowed in their hands as they peered outside.
“I’m in luck,” Jake crowed. “Someone’s home. I’ll talk to you later.”
Mike yawned. “Make that a lot later.” He ended the call.
Jake ripped the Bluetooth from his ear and opened the driver’s side door, his feet landing in a foot and a half of snow.
The elderly woman lifted a hand, placing it around her candle as Jake approached. “Mr. Smith! We’re so glad you made it. We were getting worried.”
Jake stopped, the snow swirling around him as he gazed at the women.
Mr. Smith? Who in hell was Mr. Smith?
He trekked through the snow, finally stopping at the front door.
“Seth told us to expect you this evening.” The elderly woman with the white hair opened the door, beckoning him to enter. She smiled at him, her round face glowing in the light of the candle. “Would you rather I call you Grady?”
Grady, he thought…Grady. That would suit him just fine.
Serena glanced out the front window, her eyes settling on the Jeep outside. She frowned. “What happened, Mr. Smith?”
Jake eyed the tall, cool redhead. She was something, and pregnant, to boot. He schooled his features. “I swerved. The front’s stuck in that drift, but I think everything’s okay.”
Serena nodded. “I’m glad. You should have waited until the snow let up to come out here.”
Jake looked around. The large house was dark and quiet and…freezing. “Seems like I got here just in time.”
“Yes, well,” Clarice held up a candle. “The electric’s out. I called the power authority, but the recording said to expect delays.”
“You have a generator?”
“I uh, what?” Clarice frowned. “No, we don’t. Seth said we’re going to get one, but,” she shrugged. “As you can see, we don’t.”
Jake wondered who in hell Seth was and how he could let two women stay unprotected in a drafty old house—one that was now freezing cold.
“Seth told us you know a lot about old houses. That’s why he hired you.”
Oh yeah, he sure did. Like how much the land was worth that this old inn sat on.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Clarice patted his arm. “And so is Seth. He says it put his mind at ease to know you would be here to look after everything.”
He played along. “I’ve worked on lots of old houses. If you want, I can check out the boiler and…”
“We can attend to everything in the morning. For now, I think we should all get some rest.” Clarice told him.
He glanced around. “You sure the pipes in this old place aren’t frozen?”
Clarice shrugged. “I’m sure. I think Seth wrapped them or something.”
Okay, so this Seth wasn’t a total asshole.
“My nephew does what he can.”
Jake’s eyes flew to hers. What was she, a mind reader? But this was good. Now he knew that Seth was the old woman’s nephew. And he obviously wouldn’t be back for a while. Perfect.
“I’m sure he does, ma’am.” He nodded at Clarice. The woman named Serena kept her big green eyes fixed on him.
“Well, I for one am off to bed. Serena, you should be, too. Here’s a candle for you, Grady. Now, you really don’t mind if I call you Grady, do you?”
“That’s fine, ma’am.”
“Your room’s on the third floor,” Clarice told him. “Second one on the right.”
He grabbed the candle from the woman named Clarice and followed them through the darkened kitchen and hallway, then onto the staircase. Jake’s feet skimmed across the treads on the stairs, his step quick and light. What a staircase! The graceful, carved banister curved upwards, the stair treads wide and welcoming. If only it wasn’t snowing, he’d love to see the view from the second floor.
“Good night, Grady,” Clarice called out as she and Serena made their way to their rooms on the second floor.
“‘Night,” he replied as he trudged up the stairs. Man, it was a long trek! His earlier adrenaline rush had disappeared, leaving fatigue in its wake.
“Second room on the left,” he muttered, as his mind surrendered to an all-encompassing feeling of exhaustion. “Second room on the left,” he repeated around a yawn. Finally, he stopped in front of his room and entered. He lifted the candle, his eyes adjusting to the darkness, its glow lighting the walls. The candle sputtered as a breeze kicked up, then the flame died.
“Shit,” he muttered. His eyes scanned the darkened room. Jake started forward only to bump into something hard and solid. “Son of a bitch,” he growled, rubbing his knee. He kept walking. When his knees bumped something soft, he reached down and patted what felt like a mattress.
Thank God. A soft, comfortable bed. He stripped out of his cold, wet jeans then lifted the coverlet, sliding into bed, amazed at the warmth. He sighed blissfully.
He drifted into a deep slumber, feeling something warm and soft next to him. Jake inhaled a wonderful odor. The floral fragrance filled his nose, relaxing his body even more.
He dreamt of a woman: a soft, fragrant woman, a woman with long dark hair, a woman whose legs brushed his as they slept together, cocooned in the wide bed, her fanny nestled in his groin, rubbing against his cock…
He shifted, feeling his shaft harden and swell, his body restless and wanting.
Jake woke that morning to bright sun streaming in through his windows. Then he heard the sound of breathing, and a soft little snore. He looked down onto a dark, shiny head. Long, black, silky hair drifted across his arms and chest, some of the strands tickling his nose. It twitched in response, as well as the aroused organ jutting out between his legs.
His body leapt into overdrive when he felt the brush of a feminine mound against his cock. Jake looked down to see a tiny, pink toe run up and down his leg, sending a shiver of longing down his spine. She shifted, her mound brushing his groin. Jake’s member swelled in response. He maneuvered his body, being careful not to wake the nymph that laying sleeping in his arms.
He gritted his teeth, holding back the urge to rub the tip of his hardened shaft against her clit. She moved restlessly, her toes curling against his legs. With each pass of her body against his, he felt his mind spin out of control, awash in carnal thoughts. Sweat beaded on his forehead when she slid against his now rock-hard shaft. The flannel gown she wore rose above her knees. His eyes crossed when he felt the silk of some very skimpy panties slide across his thighs.
The lovely black-haired nymph he cradled in his arms moaned, her soft sigh of pleasure making his entire body hard as stone. A jolt of pure lust tore through his body like a lightening bolt. He wanted to push into her, imagining the feel of her hot, slick wet center as he slid inside, her walls squeezing around his member.
Sweat trickled down his back. He didn’t want to wake his lovely nymph, but the need to drive into her grew powerful. Jake shifted once more in an attempt to dislodge his body from hers. The aroma of her essence, combined with her sweet, floral scent, sent his senses into a tailspin of sensual pleasure.
The next thing he saw was a pair of violet eyes, their namesake color shown bright as the woman who lay nestled in his arms stared up at him.
Miranda had the most wonderful dream about a man whose lean, hard body held hers captive. She ran her toe up his calf, marveling at the muscled feel. Like a sleek jungle cat, his legs felt long, sleek…firm. He entwined his legs with hers, his muscled thighs pinning hers to the bed, yet she had no fear.
He moved, shifting his sleek body to accommodate hers. Miranda felt something hard and stiff nudge the cleft between her thighs. Soon, she felt the hard, hot length of him pulse against her mound.
Her jungle cat’s arms held her close to his chest, a chest, she noticed as she slid one eye open to gaze at it through the opening of his button-down shirt, which had a dusting of golden hair across its hard angles and planes. A chest she wanted to kiss.
Miranda pushed his shirt aside and nuzzled her face against his pecs, her tongue snaking out to tease and taunt the tiny copper tip of his nipple. As he moved against her, his stiff member nudged her opening. Instead of driving into her like her ex-husband did, causing her immeasurable pain, her dream man held back, kissing her face slowly, lazily, like a giant feline, his lips soft and warm. They grazed her chin, the corner of her mouth, before sliding across hers.
Miranda’s eyes popped open to see a pair of golden eyes staring back at her. A bronzed face held a cat-like grin as he moved against her, causing a deep, throbbing ache to form at her very center. Tawny, shaggy blonde hair lay swept back from what she considered to be a high, noble forehead.
“Well hello, there.” His deep, languid voice shot through her.
“Oh my God!” she cried out, shoving against him. Miranda managed to disengage her body from his, but felt bereft as she slid away from him.
Who was he, she thought wildly, and what was he doing in her room?
He rolled to his side, propping his head in his hand, his body rising up on his elbow. The man watched her, as though she were his prey.
Her breath hitched when her eyes met his golden ones. They had a glow, a…
“No, oh, no, no.” She placed a hand over her mouth when she realized she gazed at a half-clad man. A beautiful, half-clad man. In her bed. The bed sheet dipped below his waist and hips, where her eyes landed on the pair of briefs. She could see the outline of his swollen shaft and the large sac between his bare, muscled thighs.
From the corner of her eye she saw a pair of jeans on the floor next to the bed. His gaze followed hers, then his eyes settled on her once more. “They were wet, I uh, didn’t want to sleep in damp clothing.” He raised one tawny brow and grinned. “I guess introductions are in order.”
She swallowed hard, the scream lodged in her throat.
“Ja…I uh…Grady…Grady Smith.” That name sounded familiar.
He patted the empty space next to him. Miranda noticed his long fingers and clipped nails on his large hand. She shivered, but Miranda couldn’t be sure in that moment if it was from the chill in the air or the heated look that came from his golden tiger’s eyes.
“Come back to bed.” Again he patted the empty space. “And tell me your name.”
She shook her head, no.
He grinned. “Does that mean ‘no you won’t come back to bed’ or ‘no you won’t tell me your name?’”
She inched away from him, the coverlet and sheets tangling around her legs.
“At least tell me your name.”
Miranda saw the glint in those golden eyes and the light dusting of tawny, early-morning stubble around his sculpted chin. “I told you mine, it’s only fair.”
His deep voice was like an elixir, a balm for her troubled mind. Her body relaxed, including her hands, and that’s when the sheet slid from her breasts.
A deep, golden glow lit his eyes from within. Miranda caught him staring at her breasts, her body reacting to his perusal, her nipples peaking beneath her gray flannel gown in response to his scorching look.
“Lovely,” he muttered thickly, reaching out to touch them, but he snatched his hand back. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice sheepish. “But you have to admit, this is a rather um, embarrassing situation we’re in.”
She inched further away then lost her balance, falling over to land in a heap of twisted linen. When she tried to rise up off the floor, she fell over again, her face heating when her gown twisted in the bedcovers, causing the gray flannel to rise up her legs, completely exposing her bottom to his prying eyes.
Run! Run and get help…
Here's a little more about the author:
I sank my writing teeth into my first romance novel after years of reading my favorite authors...Linda Howard, Karen Robards, Kat Martin (just to name a few!). Those ladies inspired me to write my own romances and now, it's my passion.I'm fascinated by the paranormal...I love to be scared. Ghost stories are my favorite. As a child I read 'The Haunting of Hill House' by Shirley Jackson (it was made into a movie a couple of times...a good one to watch with your favorite honey...and cuddle up to when it gets real scary!). That book made me want to write ghost stories and heightened my interest in the paranormal. Read more at http://www.catherinechernow.com/AboutMe/index.html
And...come visit me at Catherine Chernow's Heart of Romance: firstname.lastname@example.org
Check out www.myspace.com/catherinechernow
Visit the first hero of 'Bride's Inn' at http://www.myspace.com/sethmastersli