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Showing posts with label Four Brothers Clan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Four Brothers Clan. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

*LAST CHANCE* #WickedAfteRDark #Halloween Blog Hop!

Happy Halloween, guys and ghouls! I'm so thrilled to have some wicked fun to share with you this week!




As for my giveaway--one commenter selected at random will received my entire Four Brothers Clan shifter series! Hope that satisfies your lust for paranormal erotic romance!

Here's a little peek at book four of the Four Brothers Clan series--Wolf at the Door


Prologue
Ginger-colored locks spilled over his hand; Rémy gripped her throat. Her throat. One squeeze and he could end the evil plaguing his clan. The evil that had murdered so many of his pack, terrorized thousands more and held his brother Matéo comatose with dark magic. Yes, Rémy had the most powerful loup-garou witch ever born in his grasp. It was up to him to end her…and yet he hesitated.

It wasn’t the fear on her face; he’d seen the same fear from other enemies and still done his duty. 

It wasn’t her formidable powers because his brother, Aimé, held those at bay. She writhed in his grasp, but she would never break free of his clutches. In terms of the Ancient Arts, she was more skilled, but physically no one was stronger than Rémy des Quatre-Frères.

Tears filled her eyes. “Rémy, je te mendie—”

Through clenched teeth, he spat. “Do not speak the language of my people to beg for your life.”Rémy, please…please.”

He shook with rage, blood roaring in his ears. How could she? How had she deceived everyone?

One squeeze. His grip tightened on her throat. One more squeeze.
Please.” A teardrop slid down her cheek.

His fingers dug into her skin; she wheezed, struggling for breath Soon, there’d be no more pleas for mercy. A little more pressure and he’d crush her windpipe. Frothy spittle gathered at the corners of her mouth.

Rémy closed his eyes. Just a little tighter.

A stridor replaced her wheezing.

A little tighter. His eyes watered, his own throat constricting. He willed himself to kill her. But his hand refused cooperate.

With a roar, he released her, throwing her to the floor. She gasped for breath, choking and sputtering. Rémy smashed a chair against the wall.
Why?” he shouted, sinking to his knees. He grasped the collar of her blouse and pulled her face within an inch of his. Still battling for air, she tried to squirm out of his grasp.
Look at me,” he commanded, but he didn’t wait for her to comply. Shaking her, he forced her to meet his gaze. Her eyes were wide with terror, her breathing rapid and shallow.
Run,” he said. “I will give you one chance to run and never come back. You will release Matéo. You will leave my clan and my pack alone. If I see you again, I kill you. If you attack my people again, I kill you. If I catch your stink within a hundred miles of my empire, I kill you. 
Understand?”

She nodded, her lips quivering, but he wanted to hear her say it.
Do you understand me?”
Y-yes,” she croaked.

He released her and watched her scramble to her feet. Fleeing for the door, she clawed at the handle.
Rémy…are you sure?” Aimé helped his brother to his feet.
Yes. Let her go.”

Aimé waved a hand to break the spell he’d cast on her and opened the door. The moment she could, she shifted into a reddish-brown wolf and bounded away.
What if she comes back?” asked Aimé.
She won’t. She knows if she does, I’ll keep my promise.”


Hands shaking, Rémy wiped his brow. His gut churned, threatening to bring up his breakfast.
Did we do the right thing?” he asked.

Aimé shook his head, placing a hand on Rémy’s shoulder. “It was an impossible choice.”

Rémy cleared his throat. “We never speak of this to anyone.”
But we have to tell Sébastien something.”
We’ll tell him the threat has been neutralized. That’s all he needs to know.”
But Rémy—”
We’re done talking about this.” He spun on his heel and stalked from the room.

No one ever need know the true identity of la bête-au-feu. The Gods help him, she was a monster, and though it made him sick with himself, Rémy loved her nonetheless.


Like what you read? Check out the entire Four Brothers Clan series at Cobblestone Press! Cindy Jacks writing as CJ Elliott
  
http://cobblestone-press.com/catalog/author/cjelliott.htm

Monday, October 4, 2010

Anticipation by Denysé Bridger


Wonderful author and my dear friend, Denysé Bridger whipped up a gorgeous bit of fan-fiction for my Four Brothers Clan series, namely one special hunk of des Quatre-Freres gorgeousness--Rémy. Thank you, Denysé, for all the support. Rémy and I love you! Check out the series at Cobblestone Press :) ~Hugs, Cindy!



Anticipation

© Denysé Bridger

The heat of the day wasn’t cooling fast enough, and she was in desperate need of a change of scenery. Familiar sounds droned in the background, and the air was heavy with moisture, heat, and fragrance from the flower boxes in the neighborhood. Life had a softer rhythm in New Orleans, one that she’d grown to love. Evening was chasing the sundown and the shadows were reaching across the city, darkness breathing chillier air into the heat-waves, calming them into quiescence.

She went into the bedroom of her small flat and flung open the closet door, surveying her options for a dress that suited her mood. She had a special date tonight, and wanted it to be perfect. Her smile was slow and thoughtful, something she couldn’t repress. She’d never been lucky in love, but somehow Fate had given her another chance, with a man who was easily the most remarkable person she’d ever met. They’d been friends for almost a year, they had only been dating for a couple of weeks, and it was an unspoken understanding between them that the pace would be slow–neither of them was prepared to risk losing the relationship they had.

The shimmer of red satin caught her eye, and she pulled out the strapless dress. It was simple, gathered at the waist, a softly flowing skirt with slits on the sides. Comfortable, but also very chic. She tossed it onto the bed and went to the chest of drawers. A quick search turned up the lacy black stockings she’d bought ages ago for one of the dates she never went on. Even if he never saw the sexy underwear she was going to put on, it would make her feel beautiful... something she'd rarely felt in her life.

Humming softly she headed for the bathroom and decided on a scented bath instead of a quick shower. She hit play on the CD system before she dropped her clothes and headed to the bathtub... the sounds of smooth, sultry jazz drifted into the room after her and she closed her eyes as the silken water caressed her. She indulged herself in the pleasant idyll for forty-five minutes, and then dressed. She finished the outfit with lovely red heels, and left her auburn hair flowing in waves down her back–heat or not, it was easier than trying to contain it in any kind of style. Minimal makeup, and a spritz of scent on her bare shoulders was the last touch. A glance at the clock told her she had fifteen minutes to get to the club where she'd arranged to meet him.

Jazz clubs were among the most prolific and popular aspects of New Orleans, each one of them unique, but also sharing inherent similarities. The music–rich, pulsing, sensual rhythms that told stories to those who really listened–was as intrinsic to the city as the laid-back pace and culture that merged to make it a place unlike any other. She straightened the silk scarf that was on one shoulder, and went inside, smiling without real thought. Her eyes adjusted quickly, and she looked toward the bar.

"Looking for someone?"

Startled a great deal more than she should have been, she whirled to face him, and laughed when she saw he was smiling broadly at her. When his gaze slid over her, heat flushed through her veins and left her shaking. He took his time, appraising her with blatant hunger, and she'd never felt more beautiful in her life than when his dazzling blue eyes once again locked with hers.

“You look more beautiful every time I see you, mon amour,” he breathed in a tone of unabashed appreciation.

She blushed, unable to stop the response, and reached up to touch the side of his face, knowing there was little need to even attempt a reply. In that moment, the world narrowed until it was encompassed totally in the blue eyes that watched her. How could she have known him for so long and not noticed how devastatingly handsome he was? It seemed impossible to recall that until recently they’d seen each other as friends only, and now they were taking a huge risk, hoping that love’s many faces could merge into a perfect blend between their hearts.

Music throbbed in the air, slowly washing over them, the steady pulse magically matching the rhythm of the jazz beat. Rémy’s sapphire stare darkened and he took her hands and drew her onto the dance floor. She followed, her smile growing with each step they took. She shivered in the moment it took for him to pull her closer, when their bodies met, she bit back a sigh, but knew he’d heard it anyway when a low growl sounded next to her ear, and mutated into laughter that poured into her veins and slid along her spine like silk. She almost purred with pleasure.

“Don’t think,” he murmured smoothly, “just feel the music, and the night.”

“And you,” she whispered before leaning into him and allowing everything to fade into the background. All that existed was Rémy, and the surge of wild excitement she felt in his arms. She leaned into him; let the slow rhythm of his movement draw her into his very soul. The scent of his skin was intoxicating, the feel of smooth muscles pressed to her sent endless ripples of heat tingling along her veins, and the sultry pulse of the music drummed in her ears like a racing heartbeat. All that was missing was the taste of his kiss...

Rémy heard her thought, or so it seemed. His hand slid into her hair, and he gently drew her head from his shoulder, just far enough to look into her eyes. They were still moving, but his smoldering gaze was locked with hers for an eternity of moments before he bent his head to hers. For just an instant, all she was aware of was the soft curve of his lips as he smiled before he covered her mouth with his. His kiss was slow and gentle, exploring and teasing as they experienced their first taste of each other. When he finally ended the kiss and they stared at each other in bemused surprise, he laughed a little.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time, ma cher."

"What else have you wanted to do?"

His grin created a minor earthquake inside her and heat rose in her cheeks. She knew he'd seen it when he pulled her tightly to him and the rumble of his laughter was all she could hear.

"Anticipation is everything, mon amour... enjoy it."

Sighing, she nodded, and knew it would be more than worth the wait...


Read more of Denysé's fabulous work here: http://denysebridger.com/

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Summer Vacation Blog Tour--Day Four

Join me and the leader of the Four Brothers Clan, Mateo, on Keta Diablo's blog today. Come away to Smith Mountain Lake where Reese Emmerson thinks she'll have a quiet getaway. Ahhh, the best laid plans of mice and telepaths....



Own your copy of Hour of the Wolf today: http://cobblestone-press.com/catalog/author/cjelliott.htm

Monday, July 5, 2010

Four Brothers Clan, Book Two Excerpt

Excerpt Thrown to the Wolves, Book Two, The Four Brothers Clan Series featuring Sébastien


Sébastien des Quatre-Frères watched his brother survey the enclave, set up in the heart of what les étrangers called The Everglades.

All was running smoothly today—as usual—but Sébastien couldn't help but sweat Matéo's scrutiny. Not that Sébastien would admit it in a million years, but Matéo always made him nervous. Not to mention that Matéo overreacted to everything these days, but with good reason.

Quinna slipped up to him, her honey-brown hair glinting in the scant sunlight. Scrubby Cypress foliage cast patches of shadow across her face. Her expression tugged at his heart; her pink lips pressed together as though she didn't know what to say.

Relax, she communicated with her thoughts. It's been quiet today. And he's only here to help.

Her hand grazed his bare arm. He tensed away from the contact. Shh. He'll hear you.

I'm channeling only to you.

Doesn't matter, Quinna. He hears everything.

“It's true. I do hear everything.” Matéo walked over to them and kissed Quinna's cheek. “And it pisses off my older brother.”

She lowered her head, dropped her gaze, and bowed deeply.

“Quinna, how long have you known me?” He lifted her chin. “Have I ever asked for this kind of deference from anyone, much less someone I think of as a sister?”

She rose to face him. Her voice sounded tight and thin like it always did when she was nervous. “No, Téo.”

“That's better. How have you been, ma chère?”

“Good, thanks. And you?”

“I'll be better when we figure out why les anglais are here.”

If they're here,” Sébastien chimed in.

“Your subjects are sure they're here and it frightens them.”

With the abomination Matéo had put down last season and now two scouts missing didn't help the rumors.

“Let's get back to the chateau. If the trespassers are here, I don't want my presence to scare them off.”

Sébastien set his jaw at his little brother's arrogance. Well, his younger brother. Physically bigger, more gifted at the Ancient Arts, and higher ranking, the word 'little' didn't fit Matéo in any way, shape or form. Lupine or otherwise. Instead, Sébastien tucked a lock of glossy black hair behind one ear and held out his hand, motioning for his brother to precede him.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Hour of the Wolf, Book One, Four Brothers Clan Series

Hour of the Wolf, Book One, Four Brothers Clan Series featuring Matéo
Available now at Cobblestone Press

Blurb:

Reese Emmerson's annual summer vacation to the solitude of Smith Mountain Lake started off normally, but then voices in the night tear her from her peaceful slumber. Not that this is unusual. She's been hearing the thoughts of others for as long as she could remember.

Now, the thoughts of two wolves are intruding on her consciousness. Wolves? Yeah, she really must be losing it. Then again, there may be some thing more dangerous going on. Without the help of a beautiful stranger, Reese will fall prey a sinister obsession.

Excerpt:

More than anything else, Reese Emmerson craved quiet. Not that she needed to escape from the hustle and bustle of Fredericksburg—as if the university town she called home could be referred to as hustling and bustling. She longed most for respite from the whispering.

One would think, for a person of Reese’s abilities, the daytime hours would be toughest, but this wasn’t the case. Daytime whispers were usually innocuous. Pick up a gallon of milk. Don’t forget dinner tonight with the dean. Chem paper due. French Lit paper due. Art History paper due. As an assistant professor of English Lit at Mary Washington University, she lived near campus, and there were always lots of whispers about papers due. These mundane things she could block out. Not like the voices she heard at night.

Does she know I’m screwing her roommate?

That’s it. Today was the last time I cut myself. For real, this time.

C’mon, take drink, you little bitch. Then you won’t be too good for me.

Help me. God, somebody help me.

I need something to come down. I need to sleep.

Reese understood a longing for deep, dreamless sleep. She rarely enjoyed a full night’s rest. Some random whisper would wake her; then her own worries would kick in. and she’d be up for the rest of the night. The hour of the wolf—that was what her father, Gene, called it. That time after midnight but before dawn when all one’s worries came home to roost. Fear preying on itself, using vulnerability and fatigue to inflate its importance. Reese knew the phenomenon all too well.

But at the cottage, the whispers couldn’t reach her. Situated near Smith Mountain Lake, but far enough into the woods that she had no neighbors for miles in each direction, the cabin gave her a much needed sanctuary. Even on the drive down, the whispers weren’t too bad except when going through Richmond, particularly Jackson Ward. Junkies and whores and gangbangers, oh my! Too much sorrow to block out there. But past that onslaught of desperation, Reese could turn up the radio and think for a little while that she was just like everyone else. It was one of her favorite games: pretending to be normal. But she wasn’t.

Own your copy today

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

The Four Brothers Clan (des Quatres-Freres) Comes to Facebook!

My book, Hour of the Wolf, and the Four Brothers Clan series has its own Facebook fan page! 'Like' it today :)


And don't forget to add the brothers as friends for an inside look into their lives, shifter culture, and for special fan announcements.