Angela Knight's Blog

 

DearReader:

Mynew book is out on pre-order today! It’s the first in a new series, and I’mboth excited and a little nervous. Though it’s set in the present day, it dealswith aliens, godlike artificial intelligence, genetically engineered warriors,and lots of sexy fun. Here’s a taste:

Blurb:

Though she lives in a world ofBeyonce and iPhones, Indra Fox thinks she may be an alien. She’s too strong,too fast, and heals too quickly to be merely human. But she doesn’t know forsure, because her parents refused to tell her. Nor would they explain why she-- and her equally superhuman best friend, Diana Newman -- were raised to bewarriors.

When their families are murdered,Indra and Diana seek revenge on their killers. But after Di is captured, Indragoes undercover at a strip club the gang owns to search for her.

But when Rowan Kerr walks into theclub, Indra realizes he’s even more powerful than she is. Rowan says he knowswho she really is and what she was created to do, but she must go with him tolearn the truth.

Indra will do anything to saveDiana. Including embracing her destiny as something more than human.

Here’san excerpt:

Everyblood vessel in my body seemed to pulse and tingle in waves in time to myheartbeat. I started to wish for a distraction.

Asif sensing my mood, Rowan gave me one. Lacing his fingers together behind hishead, he leaned back in his chair and stretched his long legs out in front ofhim. The pose accented the thick bulge of his biceps and the contrast betweenthe width of his shoulders and his narrow waist. Muscle flexed under the softfabric.

Ishifted, uncomfortable, need surging in my blood.

Hesaid absolutely nothing. Just sat there, radiating sex.

Theminutes oozed by. I started to feel naked, fully dressed or not. More even thanI had back at the club dressing room, confronting him in nothing but a pair ofpasties and a G-string. Then, I hadn’t known how it would feel to make love tohim.

Iwanted him. Wanted him as much as I had in the transport when we’d madesizzling love. I’d always felt impatient with male lust, with the need todiscourage customers from getting handsy while trying not to hurt them. It waslike fending off an amorous egg.

Ididn’t have to worry about that with Rowan. Good thing, too, because the lastthing I wanted to do was fend him off.

Rowan’snostrils flared, and I knew he smelled my arousal.

Mymouth went dry. I crossed my legs and looked away, unable to hold his gaze anylonger. “So… We’re supposed to be partners,” I said.

“Yes,”he said, his voice deep and rough, the faintest trace of a growl underneath it.Or maybe that was a purr.

Ilicked lips that had gone dry. “I guess we’ll need to train together.” Seemedlike my whole life had been spent training -- Di and I had started studyinghand-to-hand with the Dads when we were three. Becoming a Ranger would probablymean more of the same.

“Yes,”he said. “Once your armor grows in, we can start going at it full force.”

Somethingabout the words “going at it” sent another flash of heat sizzling through mybloodstream, and I shot him a look. Did he mean that the way it sounded?

Hisgaze on mine was so dark, so sensual, that my mouth went dry over again. Yeah,he meant it.

Rowancoiled in again, bracing his elbows on his knees. His gaze focused on my lipsas he leaned in until his breath whispered over my lips, warm, scented with thechocolate from dessert. That sweet heat rolled through me again. He pressed hislips to mine, running his tongue over my lower lip, tasting it. Drew back alittle, staring into my eyes. “So sweet. I think I want seconds.” And he kissedme again, deeper, his tongue sliding between my lips, penetrating my mouth,tongue swirling around mine. My heart pounded harder, waves of heat rollingthrough my body. This time it had nothing to do with nanotech.

Preorderon:

Amazon:https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DKK5QGH5

Barnesand Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/wildcard-angela-knight/1146453474;jsessionid=74550561542A3A4E70E66CD1BA0C26F2.prodny_store02-atgap09

AppleBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/book/wildcard/id6737238442

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/wildcard-20

Thalia: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1638118

Vivlio: https://www.thalia.de/shop/home/artikeldetails/A1073370012

Ifyou’re as big a fan of audiobooks as I am, I’ve also got a terrific new Merlin’sLegacy audiobook out on preorder, Master of Valor. I love the narrator –Su does an amazing job.

 

Preorderlinks:

Amazon:https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DK9Z7FLC

Audible:https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DK9Z7FLC

AppleBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/audiobook/id1775294656

Thanks so much for visiting my page!

Angela Knight

 

DearReader – Thanks so much for subscribing to my newsletter!

Thisspring, I’m hard at work on a brand-new series that features hot geneticallyengineered warriors doing battle with body-stealing aliens in present dayAmerica. I should be giving you a taste of that in a couple of months. 

In the meantime, Changeling Press is re-releasing my Arcane Talents series.Next up is Arcane Kiss:

https://youtu.be/_Whpi1M1CnQ

Kurt Briggs has a spirit link to a tiger Familiar that gives himsuperhuman abilities, but when his father is murdered, the military veteranbecomes a target for terrorist sorcerers. Alone, Kurt finds he's no match forthe witch and her shape-shifting polar bear. He turns to Arcanist GenevieveReyes for help in fighting the killers' spells.

As Genevieve and Kurt hunt the terrorists, shared danger leads to shareddesire. But they soon realize Kurt's passion for Gen weakens his control overhis cat. The consequences could be deadly for them both. Genevieve is attractedto Kurt's animal sensuality, but she knows she may be in as much danger fromhis tiger as she is from the terrorists.

Even if Kurt and Gen manage to stop the terrorists, their evil sorcerymay trigger a witch hunt that could mean the destruction of everyone withmagical Talent -- including Kurt and Genevieve.

Here’san excerpt:

Andher aura brushed his again, making it thrum a deep, delicious note. She’dprobably intended the kiss as a gesture of comfort, but despite his tearingpain, it somehow felt almost sensual.

Inan instant, the pain twisted under the touch of her aura, transforming intosomething equally intimate. In the depths of his mind, heat leaped.Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her narrow waist. His lips openedagainst hers, starved for the comfort she offered. Drinking in the taste ofher, feeling the soft contours of her body.

Thatsweetness in the midst of this agony was as desperately welcome as an ice chipto a man burning in hell. Kurt focused on her, grateful for the distraction.But even more than that, there was the taste of her Arcanist magic, swirlingall around them, making his skin tingle.

God,Kurt wanted her. Wanted to lose himself in her, to take shelter from the bitteragony of his father’s death, if only for a moment. So he kissed Genevieve withall his desperate hunger to forget it all: his sins, his father’s death. Ifonly for this one moment. He kissed her, suckling the soft, damp velvet of hermouth, the taste of woman and magic.

Bythe time he lifted his head, both of them had begun to shake.

WhenKurt glanced around, he saw they were standing in the simple illumination ofthe arena security lights. His tiger manifestation had vanished.

Hewas in control again.

Genevievesmiled up at him, though her face was wet with tears and her mouth trembled.“There. I knew you could do it.”

BeforeKurt could reply, a new voice spoke up, sounding dry. “Anybody want to tell mewhat’s going on?”

Tensing,he instinctively drew her close as he looked toward the source of the voice. Adozen cops stood in the entrance of the arena enclosure. Every one of them hadhis gun drawn and pointed at them.

Oh,shit.

Here’sthe buy link.

Formy writer friends, I’ve also got a new class online writing class running May 6on SavvyAuthors.com. Registration is $40 for premium members and $50 for basicmembers, with a $5 discount if you register before April 29.  

Inthis month-long online class, I discusses the importance of creating theperfect cast for the kind of romance you’re trying to write.

Amemorable romance cast is more than the sum of its parts. To create aneffective book, all the characters – protagonists, antagonists, and minorcharacters – must work together as a unit. And each must fit the kind of bookyou’re trying to write. Leatherface of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre does notbelong in a Rom Com. Nor do you want minor characters to steal the book.

Buthow do you create a good cast for this book and the audience you’reaiming for?

I talk about how to design your heroic couple for each other, along with theminor characters and sidekicks who help make the protagoniststhree-dimensional. I’ll also talk antagonists and their henchmen, and how touse them to create tension and excitement.

Next, I’ll explore dialogue, humor, and arguments as the means to developcharacter and conflict.

The result will be a firm foundation for your book so you won’t be flailing inthe dark, trying to figure out why the heck it isn’t working. Learn more here.

Thanksso much for welcoming me into your inbox!

AngelaKnight

Dear Reader –

Ispent this summer working on the latest novel in my Arcane Talents series. Nowhere it is, just in time for Christmas (and my birthday)!

Here’s a taste:

 

Targetedby terrorists, a woman inhabited by a tiger spirit turns to the lover she leftbehind.

MargayWhitfield has a mystical bond to a tiger spirit which allows her to call on theanimal’s power – until a terrorist bombing leaves her with PTSD and shakycontrol over her inner big cat.

 

Nowshe’s come home to Ashburg, S.C., where her mother owns a restaurant. Margayhopes that a simple, boring job will give her the time and peace to heal herpsychic wounds and rebuild her control over Razia, her tiger. 

 

But when theterrorists who attacked her in Ukraine use Raz to turn the town against her andher mother, she has to call a cop.

 

ThoughAshburg Police Chief Grant Sawyer has no magical abilities at all, he andMargay were childhood best friends – and high school sweethearts. But ten yearsof tragedy has left Margay with deep psychological wounds and a fear she couldhurt – even kill – the man she loves.

 

CanMargay and Grant defeat the terrorists despite the odds, and rediscover theirlost love?

 

 

Excerpt:

 

Grant Sawyer stared downinto Margay’s lovely oval face. As always, those big, Feral gold eyesfascinated him. They seemed to glow against the warm brown of her skin in theillumination from the SUV’s dash lights. She wore no lipstick on her wide, fullmouth, and her white teeth flashed as she spoke. Her long black hair was woveninto countless thin braids, with other strands left curling loose. He’d Googledit, and the style was called goddess braids. 

 

Which, as far as he was concerned,was an entirely appropriate ‘do for Margay Whitfield. All that hair was tied ina swinging tail that hung to her pert, perfect ass. Since she wore onlyleggings and a United States Arcane Corps long-sleeved tee, he could tell shewas as fit as she’d been in high school. Curves everywhere curves should be,and lean muscle everywhere else.

 

God, he wanted her. Herwide nostrils flared, and he had the uncomfortable feeling she could see thehunger in his eyes, smell it in his scent.

 

She was even more beautifulthan back when he’d dreamed of a future with her. Before the Arcane Corps --and something seriously nasty -- had put that look in her Feral gold eyes.

Grant had been sitting inhis vehicle working on a report when some instinct made him glance up to see adark figure darting by. Running so fast his jaw dropped.

 

Then she’d shot in front ofhis headlights, and he’d recognized Margay. Her braids flew behind her as sheran, long legs flashing as her arms pumped. She’d been running full out,nothing held back, and her face gleamed with sweat even in the cold. She’d wornan expression of such desperation and pain, his heart clenched in his chest.

 

So he’d started his vehicleand pulled out after her. When she’d turned back to him, he’d instantly readthe fear behind her wide, tight smile.

 

He couldn’t stand thethought of scaring Margay Whitfield. Yet even after he’d identified himself –even after he’d gotten out of the SUV -- the unease remained.

 

Why the hell would she lookat him like that? Why had she beenducking him? They’d grown up best friends – caught frogs as nine-year-olds,watched anime in middle school, geeked out together about SF novels, comics andfilms as teens. Gone to Dragon Con in Atlanta every year, collecting selfiesand cosplaying as superheroes or anime or gaming characters. Shared their firstkiss. Gone to prom. Made love.

 

Loved.

 

And yeah, Brandy had beenright – Grant had loved Margay more than he’d ever loved his wife.

 

He’d understood why Margayhad walked away from him after high school. She’d wanted to join the ArcaneCorps ever since they’d been kids. After all, her father had been a Corps vetwith a magical tiger of his own. So Grant hadn’t resented it – much -- whenshe’d left to join the Corps. He’d wanted to be a cop just as bad.

 

She’d succeeded in hergoal, just as he had, only to leave the Corps and come home. With rumoredwounds that didn’t show.

 

Grant had tried more thanonce to talk to her -- even showing up at her mother's restaurant -- but she’djust shaken her head and said she was busy.

 

Jocelyn had told him she'dcome back injured to the soul. Not physically -- that long, smooth body waswhole. She still moved with the same fluid strength and confidence. But therewere scars in those golden eyes.

 

Before Grant could think ofa way to reach her now, the radio handset on his shoulder gave a demandingcrackle. "Ashburg I-1, you've got a 10-80 at 156 Jones St.”

 

He cursed silently andtriggered the handset clipped to his shoulder as he turned back to his SUV."Ashburg I-1, en route.” He released the transmit button and told her,“I’ve got to take this.”

 

Margay frowned, worry inher eyes, and half started after him. “What’s a 10-80?”

 

“Domestic violence call.”He curled his lip in disgust. “Sounds like Sam Jenkins beat the hell out of hisgirlfriend again.”

 

"You need backup? Icould go with you.”

 

Because of course shewould. Everything else might be gone to shit, but Margay would always have hisback. “Thanks, but I’ve got it.”

 

She frowned, visiblyworrying. “But what if this asshole has a gun? I'm bulletproof and you'renot."

 

"And if you were acop, I'd love to have you. But you're not, and if something happened, theliability would eat the town alive."

 

At that she deflated."Yeah, it wouldn’t be a good idea to put Raz in that situation anyway.It'd be too likely to set her off." With a sigh, Margay waved him on.“Better go answer your call."

 

She watched as he slid intohis vehicle. When he glanced into his rearview mirror as he drove away, she wasstill staring after him.

 

As if, despite her cat,despite whatever the hell had happened to her, she still cared.

 

Christ knew he did.

 

Buy links: ChangelingPress             Amazon            Barnesand Noble           Apple        Vivlio                            Smashwords

 

 

Dear Reader:

I’ve been very busy the lastfew months writing my newest novel, Arcane Deception. This is the fifth book inthe Arcane Talents series I’m doing, set in an alternate universe where people useart, music and dance to work magic. What’s more, U.S. servicemen have psychic linksto magical lions, tigers and bears, who help them to form bulletproof magicalshells of the animals they wear like Iron Man’s armor.

My heroine, Kate Marshall,is an Arcanist – an artist who uses a combination of art and magic to workpowerful spells. My hero, Mark Delaney, has a psychic link with a magical polarbear that gives him the power of the world’s largest land predator.

But their enemies are evenmore powerful than they are…

When her grandfather wanders off, witch Kate Marshall enlists ahandsome neighbor to help find Eli, who suffers from dementia. She doesn’t knowMark Delaney is a magic-using undercover agent trying to bring down a gang ofdrug dealers with deadly spirit animals.

Soon Mark and Kate find themselves falling in love, even as hewrestles with lying to the woman he’s fallen for. Unfortunately, the drug lordwho is the gang’s leader is having them watched, so Mark can’t come clean.

When the gang kidnaps Eli and Kate to force her to collude intheir crimes, she must turn to Mark despite his lies, the risk to her heart andthe threat to her beloved grandfather’s life.

 

Buy links:

ChangelingPress    Amazon   Apple     Barnesand Noble     Kobo     Vivlio

 

Here’s an excerpt:

Kate Marshall hurried alongthe path as fast as she dared, scanning the surrounding woods for a flash ofwhite hair. Anxiety coiled in a sick knot in her belly. Good thing it was latespring. If it had been winter, she’d have to worry he’d forgotten the way homeand succumbed to hypothermia.

No sign of him. Nothing butsquirrels rustling through the leaves as courting birds sung from the pines,oaks, and maples looming around her.

Dammit, where is he?

Kate stopped in her tracks,closed her eyes, and scanned again, but nothing glowed behind her closed eyes.No sign of Eli Riley’s Talent shining through the trees. Except…

Wait. Not a glow, but something.She concentrated, focusing until the sense of power grew more acute. It seemedto be emanating from the lake.

Her eyes flew open, and shetook off in long strides just short of a run. “Granddad? Granddad, where areyou? You’re scaring me!”

Some days, Eli seemed justlike the man who’d raised her during those idyllic childhood summers, endlesslywise, skilled in art and magic and the intersection where the two met. On baddays, he became a six-foot tall three-year-old, prone toward tantrums andviolent outbursts. Even worse was the lethal combination of his raw magicalability and his failing memory, which could easily kill him if he made an errorwith a spell. Which was why she’d panicked when she’d woke up this morning tofind him gone.

Eli hadn’t been in thestudio crafting something fatal, though his backpack of magical gear wasmissing. She’d searched the rest of the old Victorian house and its extravagantgarden, but no luck.

What worried her most wasthe lake. Her childhood summer haunt was less than a mile away from the house.Way too close for comfort.

He can swim. Hell,he taught me. But what if…

Flickering light flashedthrough the trees ahead -- sunlight glinting off the water. The sense of powerwas stronger now. Splashes sounded, suggesting someone swimming.

Or drowning.Her heart shot into her throat.

“Granddad, dammit!” Katebroke into a sprint, ignoring the thin branches that whipped across her face.“Granddad!” I can’t lose him too. She burst from the trees. “Granddad!”

But when she spotted theswimmer, it was not her grandfather. Not with the long blond hair slickedaround broad, bare shoulders that gleamed in the morning sunlight. The manstopped swimming and turned, treading water, wiping a big hand down hisdripping face. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Have you seen an old man?”

“No, nothing but couple ofdeer and about a dozen squirrels.” He started back to the shore, muscular armsstroking the water, sending droplets flying through the arc of a rainbow.“What’s the problem?”

“My grandfather… He’s gotdementia. I woke up this morning to find him gone. He comes out here to paint.”Kate raked both hands through her brunette hair, absently plucking out leavesand twigs from her heedless run. “Oh God, he could be anywhere. The road -- hecould have been hit by a car. Sometimes he doesn’t remember to check before hecrosses…” She started to turn away.

“Hang on, let me get dressedand I’ll help you look.” He waded out of the lake, water streaming down a bodylike a gladiator’s, all hard, carved muscle. He wore only a pair of black swimtrunks and a glowing golden tattoo in the center of his chest, a circlesurrounded by sigils. Looked like some kind of protective spell. And he wasbig, easily six-one. On any other day in any other situation, she’d havedrooled.

“Where do you live?” He walkedover to a pile of neatly folded clothes. Picking up a towel, he started dryingoff, muscle flexing in his broad chest.

“In the Victorian a milethat way.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder and looked away, trying not toogle.

“Oh, you must mean Eli. Ididn’t know he’d gotten that bad.” He pulled on faded jeans despite his wettrunks, then shrugged on an equally faded black T and stuffed his bare feetinto running shoes. The shirt’s white lettering read “USAC Academy.”

He was Arcane Corps. Nowonder he radiated so much power, she’d felt it a quarter mile away. Kate wastempted to close her eyes and check the glow of his magic, but that would berude.

He extended a hand, a frownof concern on his face. “Mark Delaney. I’m so sorry about your grandmother.”

A spasm of pain stabbed her,but she forced a tight smile as his long fingers enfolded hers. His skin feltcalloused and cool. “Thank you. I’m Kate Marshall.” She studied that tough,intensely masculine face. Beard stubble roughened his square jaw and broad,cleft chin, blond brows slashing over Feral gold eyes. It was hard to tell, butshe thought his hair would be honey blond when it dried. His lips were thin andmasculine, but they looked soft, kissable. Tempting, despite the nerve-wrackingsituation she was in.

After a carefully calibratedsqueeze, he let her go. “Don’t freak out, I’m going to manifest so I can trackhim. I’m a Feral.” Golden light exploded around him as his magic became visiblein a flare of sparks and whirling energy. A heartbeat later, it coalesced intoa huge shaggy figure with a long bullet-shaped head and foot-wide paws. The rawpower of the animal spirit beat at Kate’s senses as it towered over her, almostten feet tall. Mark was only dimly visible in its center, cocooned within itlike a man in armor.

Blinking, Kate suppressedthe instinct to step back.

“Don’t worry, Kola and Ihave been stable for years,” Mark said as the bear dropped to all fours. Itsshoulder was level with her chin, and she was five-six. “I’m in control.” Whichwasn’t always a given with Ferals, whose spirit animals could make them pronetoward explosions of aggression.

Feeling a bit self-consciousabout her reaction, she said, “I knew from your shirt you must be Arcane Corps,but I wasn’t expecting a polar bear.” Serving in the military was the only wayyou could legally meld with a Familiar that powerful. Ferals were the magicalequivalent of the Navy SEALs, and most Americans viewed them with awe.

Well, except for Humanists,who thought they were demon possessed.

***

I hope you’ll take a look!

Buy Links:

ChangelingPress    Amazon   Apple     Barnesand Noble     Kobo     Vivlio

 

My other big project is a class I’m teaching at SavvyAuthors.comcalledBlueprint to Book: Plotting and Writing a Novel with Angela Knight. Unlikemy previous class, this is a set of video tutorials in which I demonstrate howto write a novel. It covers everything from character creation to plotting, towriting and rewriting. I even discuss cover creation. Clickfor more information.If you’re interested, here’s the first lesson video.
I hope you’ll join me for the class.Have a great summer!Angela Knight

Dear Writer:
 

Beginning Nov. 21st, I'm teaching a month-long online class at SavvyAuthors.com called "Hearts and Handcuffs: Writing Believable Police Heroes. You'll find more information about the class and how to register here. I'll be posting lessons in the forum at Savvy, where you can read and ask questions at your convenience. You'll also be able to send me scenes from your romantic suspense or other police-related book for critique by me and my husband, Detective Michael Woodcock of the Spartanburg City Police Department. 

Here's a taste of the first lesson, which discusses the lessons and structure of the class.

Lesson 1: Introduction to Hearts and Handcuffs

By Angela Knight

Trends come and go in the romance industry. Sometimes vampires are big, sometimes it’s knights in armor, sometimes cowboys or Regency dukes. I remember when books about sports heroes or rock stars were poison, but both have been big recently.  

But one thing is always hot: romances about cops. Romantic suspense is an evergreen sub-genre, and you can mix and match it with all sorts of other genres, from paranormals to steampunk. 

Thing is, writing about law enforcement can be tricky. According to figures from 2008, there were an estimated 1.1 million people working in law enforcement in 17,985 police departments. Laws vary from state to state and jurisdiction to jurisdiction, and every department has its own rules and procedures. There are also all kinds of cops: police, deputy sheriffs, state and federal law enforcement agents, etc.

Police work has interested me for decades. I’ve been Michael Woodcock’s wife for 38 years, and Mike’s been in law enforcement for 34 of them. He began his career in 1988 as a uniformed patrol officer during the most violent years of the drug war as a member of the Spartanburg Police Department's Complex Team, which patrolled the city's dangerous housing projects.

He worked his way up to sergeant over a team of detectives who dealt with murders, domestic violence, and burglaries. He then trained as a polygraph examiner and went to work for the Spartanburg County Sheriffs Office, where he interrogated everyone from accused pedophiles to murderers to rogue cops. 

He also served as lieutenant of the department’s crisis negotiation team, which handled barricaded subjects threatening to harm themselves and others. As a crisis negotiator, he dealt with subjects who were often violent. One schizophrenic opened fire on him and other cops. When the SWAT team finally took the man down, they found his stockpile of dozens of weapons included an assault rifle, a gas mask, and a bullet proof vest.

Now Mike’s back with Spartanburg PD as a detective. I haven’t seen him this happy in years.

I've also had first hand-experience with police that had nothing to do with Mike.

During my newspaper days, I followed murder cases through the entire criminal justice system, from the commission of the crime to the court and sentencing. I’ve also seen people get off when I was sure they were guilty.

Though I worked in Cherokee County, SC for the most part, I once watched my husband hunt 14 pipe bombs with a team of other Spartanburg officers. One of those bombs went off, scaring the hell out of me. Luckily, no one was hurt.

Mike and I have given talks on writing about crisis negotiation at the Romance Writers of America National Convention, as well as other writer’s conferences around the country.

Several years ago, Mike and I presented an RWA National Convention workshop called “Hearts and Handcuffs: Creating Believable Police Heroes.” It was very well received, so I decided to present a more detailed online version.

To write it, I interviewed Mike and several other veteran cops, and wrote lessons based on their comments. Here’s a quick outline:

1.) Introduction 

2.) Interview with Master Deputy Mike Clevenger on why people become cops, and how officers deal with psychological aspects of policing and balancing the needs of the job and family life.

3.) SWAT commander Lt. Mark Gaddy discusses officer training and how television gets it wrong. What makes a good officer? 

4.) Weapons Use with Lt. Gaddy: What are some of the weapons, lethal and otherwise, police use, and what are their limitations?

5.) SWAT Teams: How the teams are trained and organized

6.)  An Interview with Lt. Diane Lestage: Why do women become cops? What are some of the advantages women bring to the job? How do they deal with people who are generally larger and stronger than they are? How do they handle hand to hand? Since women are often the chief caregivers in the family, what are the techniques they use to juggle those demands and policing?

7.) Investigating Sex Crimes with Lt. Lestage and Lt. Mike Woodcock: Sexual assaults on adults and children, and how you go about dealing with victims.

8.) Mike Woodcock on Investigating violent crimes: What are the steps a detective follows in investigating a homicide? What are the psychological effects on the officer? 

9.) Interrogating witnesses, suspects and informants with Lt. Mike Woodcock: How do detectives question witnesses, informants, and suspects, and how do they tell who's lying?

10.) Crime Scene Investigation with Sgt. David Hogsed: What are the techniques officers use to collect evidence and document crime scenes?

11.) Hostage Negotiation with Lt. Mike Woodcock: How do crisis negotiators handle confrontations with armed suspects?

13.) Interview with Lt. Ashely Harris on bombs and drug testing: Harris, now retired, discusses being a forensic chemist and bomb tech. He discusses methods for testing different kinds of drugs, including marijuana, meth and cocaine. He also discusses how to dismantle explosives, bombs and grenades, as well as the use of bomb robots.

We'll also add a brand-new lesson on how detectives use social media  to investigate crimes. 

I have other lessons I’ll present on a variety of subjects like conflict of interest, which can add all sorts of interesting implications to your romantic suspense plot.

I’ll also take questions from the class. Mike has always been willing to answer questions about police work and whether a story idea is realistic.

You may email me scenes from your book on Tuesday and Thursday, and I will critique them privately. For reasons of practicality, I ask that you submit scenes of around 2000 words in a Word file. Make sure that you put your email address in the file so I’ll know where to return it.

 If you have law enforcement questions, I’ll pass them on to Mike. Please don’t hesitate to ask. It’s my goal to help you get comfortable with law enforcement techniques so you can give your work the ring of truth. 

I will post lessons to the class on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

I hope you'll consider taking the class!

Angela Knight

 

Dear reader:

I spent this summer working on the 4th book in the Arcane Talents series. It’s a direct spin off from Arcane Island, involving Raven Garland, Dave’s rock star teammate on the reality show. 

I love that character, and I wanted to give her a happy ever after, so I decided to tell the story of that attack and her romance with the bodyguard who saved her.

Raven is a rock star with a voice that is literally magical. She’s also got a serious problem: she’s being stalked by her ex. Ewan Bradley’s magical abilities and powerful father make him a deadly threat, forcing her to hire a seductive bodyguard with powers of his own. Nate Carter can use his Primo magic to increase his physical strength to superhuman levels -- and he needs every bit of that power to keep Raven alive. Besides her nasty ex, there’s the lethal costar with anger issues and a mystical link to a bulletproof tiger.  

To make matters worse, Nate is slowly falling in love with his client. The passion seems mutual, but Raven’s love affairs have a notoriously short shelf life. For all his strength, Nate doesn’t think he can take becoming her latest fling. Raven wants her handsome bodyguard as far more than a temporary lover, but how can she convince him to trust her when he knows her magical voice can make him believe whatever she wants? Nate knows in real life, the good guy doesn’t always get the girl.

Buy links:  Changeling Amazon Apple Books Barnes & Noble  Kobo/Walmart  ThaliaVivlio

Here’s an excerpt. 

Nathan Carter watched the woman he loved kiss another man.

Raven Garland lay sprawled among sheets of crimson silk, eyes closed, full lips parted on a gasp as the muscular blond braced above her. Her lover pressed biting kisses to the angle of her delicate jaw, and she gripped his bare shoulders, scarlet nails digging into his skin. Her sweat-sheened body seemed to glow in the light from dozens of candles that surrounded the brass bed, clustered on the floor, or arranged on the nightstand among drifts of white rose petals.

All the while, her voice -- that amazing three-octave, Grammy-winning voice -- poured from hidden speakers in a sensual purr. “Deep in my Feral heart, where all my passions start, I feel your magic’s call…”

Nate could certainly feel her magic call as he stood in the shadows of the huge room. A call he desperately wanted to answer, even as his common sense told him to stay away.

Unfortunately, his instincts also told him her lover was going to be a problem. A big, powerfully muscled man, Gary Handle was the kind of guy women like Raven would be drawn to.

He wore his dishwater blond hair cropped in a military brush cut that accentuated his square jaw and hawkish nose. He had the gold irises that marked him as a Feral, though his eyes were a bit too small to balance that wide mouth. Good-looking enough, but there was something about Gary that made Nate’s combat-honed instincts howl.

Raven didn’t seem to sense the danger as she stared up at him, entranced, her lush body relaxed and yearning in his arms.  

Nate wanted to touch her like that. Wanted to feel the weight of those full breasts, her long, dancer’s legs gripping his hips. Just like that.

He also wanted to haul Gary off her and drive his fist into the bastard’s nose. The crunch of cartilage would be intensely satisfying. 

Breathing in hard, Nate fought the absurd jealousy. She’s a client. What kind of idiot bodyguard gets jealous of a client? She doesn’t see me as anything but hired muscle. And she’s right.

His inner Neanderthal didn’t give a damn. Nate closed his eyes, trying to control the waves of irrational emotion… 

And stiffened. In the darkness behind his closed eyelids, Raven glowed like a torch, the aura of her Bard magic bright to Nate’s Talent senses.

But above her, where Gary Handle should be, a glowing tiger crouched, ears laid back, tail lashing as it stared down at her with vicious intensity. 

The spirit of Gary’s dead cat wanted to take a bite out of Raven.

“Cut!” Roger Timmons called from his place beside the studio camera, his voice taut with frustration. Around him, the rest of the video crew -- the two camera operators, the sound engineer, the lighting crew -- even the hair and makeup girl -- looked just as impatient.

“Gary, you flashed her suit top again. We’re trying to create the illusion Raven’s naked, and we can’t do that if fabric shows.” He glowered, eyes narrowing as he bit off every word. “Keep one hand over the top, dammit.” 

Handle gave Raven a glittering glare in the blazing lights of the soundstage. “Why don’t you just take it off? Then we wouldn’t have to worry about showing it.”

“No, just my breasts,” Raven said, irritation edging her tone. Even so, her voice sounded rich and seductive, silken as the sheets. And she wasn’t even drawing on the Bard magic that had made her one of the hottest rock stars of the decade. 

Gary opened his mouth on a snarl that sounded as if he were on the edge of manifesting his tiger. “You…”

Nate tensed, his bodyguard instincts howling. Too far away. I’m too damn far away if he goes for her…  

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THE DARK SIDE

I’ve also got a story in a new anthology called The Dark Side, though my story, “The Dark One,” has appeared before.

Buy it Today
Changeling
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Welcome to The Dark Side, where the line between love and lust blurs with dangerous passions.

The Dark One by Angela Knight

Matia of Ruza is one of the legendary Battlemaids -- a woman warrior who has taken an oath of celibacy in service of the Maid of Light. Kaska intends to make Matia the centerpiece in a sizzling erotic ritual in honor of his god.

One reviewer said, "Angela Knight writes an erotic story between two great warriors where one of them must loose. The Dark One is extremely erotic, and a fantastic story.”

Chain of Thorns by Will Okati

Riven finds himself trapped and enslaved by a powerfully seductive alien. Where is the line between fantasy and reality -- slavery and love?

BloodWolf by Sierra Dafoe

Centuries ago an ancient evil turned Baudouin Delacor into a beast for which there had never before been a name -- the BloodWolf. Delacor has only one hope left: that by destroying the succubus, he can free himself of its curse.

 

I hope you enjoy them!

Angela Knight

 Here's Book 2 in my Arcane Talents series. Hope you like it!

The wildest passion has claws.

When a pair of cops with magical abilities become the target of a hate group, they must unravel the plot against them before it costs them their lives -- and love.

Deputy Erica Harris is a witch who can see the magical auras of those around her, a talent which helps her determine when someone intends to commit a violent crime. Her partner, Deputy Jake Nolan, has a psychic link with an African lion that allows him to manifest the animal’s powers.

But it’s tough to serve and protect when demagogues stoke public fear of you. As the two cops fight to unravel a politically motivated web of hate and deceit, Erica and Jake are targeted by a magical assassin hired by the plotters.

While dodging murder attempts, they begin to fall in love. But as Jake’s desire makes his inner lion more possessive, his self-control erodes. Can they afford to take a chance on love when so many lives hang in the balance?

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He slid out of his car and looked down at her, a broad-shouldered silhouette. His eyes caught a beam of light from God knew where, reflecting gold. Heart pounding a crazed rhythm, she got out to join him. “If you think I’m necking in the back of the patrol car…”“God, no. Way too many drunks have yarked in my cruiser. I keep my car clean, but there’s only so much you can do.”She could only grin. “And Dave says there’s no romance in your soul.”His teeth flashed. “Give me a try and see for yourself how romantic I am.”Erica swallowed at the erotic challenge in his tone. This is not a good idea. She found herself moving closer anyway until they stood chest to chest.Which would have felt much sexier without the two bulletproof vests they were wearing.Jake’s big, broad hands came up and cupped her cheeks to cradle her head, tilting her chin up. His palms felt calloused, deliciously warm. His mouth felt just as seductive as he kissed her, his lips feathering a soft brush across hers.Erica groaned and let herself lean into his chest. Though Jake wasn’t a tall man, his muscular breadth made her feel almost delicate. Feminine. The ASP baton hanging from his belt tapped her thigh, and the plastic buckles of their duty belts clicked as they eased together.He slid a hand behind her back to grip her belt and pull her closer. Angling his head, he deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips. She opened with a soft, yearning groan.He tasted of the Cauldron’s maple syrup, smelled of something dark and wild that made her think of deep woods and cat musk. Arousal tightened her belly, kicking off a honeyed flare of heat through her blood. Behind the thick padding of her vest, her nipples hardened. God, she wanted to feel his hands on her bare breasts. Ached for it.He rumbled, a delicious vibration. Thick, coarse fur brushed against the back of her thighs, a psychic impression of a leonine body.“Go away, Clar,” he murmured against her lips.The impression of fur disappeared.Shivering in helpless arousal, Erica spread her hands over his chest. Felt only tough uniform fabric and the thickness of the Kevlar vest. God, I want him naked.He drew back from her mouth, looking down at her with hooded eyes. “I want to touch you.”Licking dry lips, she croaked, “God yes. But this isn’t the…”Big hands stroked up over the rise of her breasts. She closed her eyes and swallowed, wishing it wasn’t so damn cold. Wishing she was naked, so she could feel his skin on hers.Fingers brushed the bare skin of her collarbones as if her bullet-resistant vest had turned to mist. An electric jolt of pleasure zinged through her, so intense it almost stung.Erica’s eyes sprang wide. Jake watched her hungrily, gold eyes glowing as his thumbs brushed back and forth over her uniformed chest. One hand slid down, and she rocked back, instinctively giving him room. Room to trace down her sternum, dance across the upper curves of one breast, then down the slope of it…Fingers brushed nipples with a sensation so vivid, she looked down, half-expecting to find her clothes had disappeared.Both uniforms were still there. He was using his feral magic to manipulate her aura. “Oh,” she breathed. “That’s… incredible. I didn’t know you could do that.”“You’d be surprised what I can do.” Jake’s smile took on a darker cast as he magically toyed with her, fingers brushing over the vest.His left hand paused, tracing the curve of her ribs, dancing over thin skin, gliding downward to find the jut of a hipbone. And across.Between her legs.A jolt of magic shot right into her clit. Erica inhaled and caught his shoulders to keep from falling on her ass.“Like that?” Jake’s voice seemed to brush across her senses like velvet, rich and tempting. He went for her lips again, sipping at her tongue, as one hand played between her thighs and the other danced delicate spells over her breasts as though she was naked. Deliciously naked and aroused.Well, part of that was true.Jake purred against her mouth -- a sound that became a gasp as she slid a hand down and sent her own magic questing. To find the thick shaft of his erection pressing against his fly. Cupping her fingers over him, she danced a feather of magic the length of his cock from balls to head.“You’re living dangerously.” His voice sounded rough.She smiled wickedly and closed her teeth over his lower lip, tugging it as she intensified the magic whirling around his eager shaft. “Yes, well, so are you.”His lips curled against hers. “Sometimes a little danger can be fun.”Erica froze as the words triggered a dark association: Sometimes a little danger can be fun. That had been one of Bobby’s favorite sayings, used before missions, bar brawls, or jumping out of an airplane. He’d even said it the first time he’d taken her to bed.And the morning she’d caught him cheating. “Sometimes a little danger can be fun.”Jake’s eyes widened in dismay as he felt her recoil. “Erica, I…”She stepped back out of range of his hands, his magic. Suddenly the spring breeze felt icy over her hot cheeks. “I’ll… see you later.”Jake took a step toward her, one hand lifted, then aborted the gesture. His broad shoulders slumped. “What about BFS?”Erica wanted to say no. Wanted to at least put him off. Instead she heard herself say, “I’ll meet you there.”Idiot!Relief brightened his gaze, and he tried out a tentative smile. “Why don’t I pick you up instead. Ten o’clock?”She turned away and headed for her car. All she wanted was to get home. “Sure, whatever. Fine.”But it wasn’t fine. Why the hell didn’t I tell him no?She knew exactly why. I’ve never been smart when it came to any Nolan.

   My new book is finally finished! It's up for pre-order, and will be out May 6, 2022. I've wanted to write Dave Frost's story for years now, but every time I tried to do it, it never worked. I finally figured it out a few months ago. I had a ball writing the resulting book, which is full of Dave's trademark snark -- and his big, generous heart. Here's a taste...

Dave Frost died in combat five years ago, but his soul survives, magically bonded to the body of his partner -- a six-hundred pound tiger. Dave can conjure a human manifestation, but nobody treats him as a man anymore. Especially not women. Until he meets Ariel -- his costar -- while shooting a reality TV competition in the Bahamas. The show’s producers have assigned him to the beautiful witch for an onscreen showmance.

Ariel Piper’s talent is strong enough to turn the competition in their favor. Unfortunately, she also has a condition that makes using her magic agonizing. When they discover Dave’s touch kills the pain, he’s driven to help.

Their showmance soon becomes the real thing, though Dave fears she’ll dump him when the show wraps. Can Ariel convince this heroic, wounded man to trust her love -- before the show comes to a lethal climax that’s not in the script?

In the following scene, Dave and Ariel find out what the show's producers have in mind.

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The tiger looked up at me, blazing with the combined magic of Familiar and man.

His manifested hand released mine, and my aura slowly began to kink again, stinging like a mild sunburn. Still, it was far less intense than it had been. I had to fight the impulse to grab for him, hungry for more of that cooling relief. Even my blocking spell hadn’t killed the pain so completely.

Somehow contact with Dave Frost’s powerful aura had stabilized mine.

Tisha eyed us, then shook her head as if dismissing an inconsequential mystery. “We need to talk.”

She led us out of the tent and across the beach toward Jackson Gilbert’s Bali-style main house, currently serving as the production team’s headquarters. It was a stunning structure built of bamboo bent in long curving arcs, its roof thatched over teak support beams. The whole island had an eco-tourism vibe, right down to its wind-turbine-generated electricity.

Not that I gave a fuck about the decor. I was too busy trying to figure out exactly how Dave had just done what he had. And was it something he could do again?

A guard nodded at Tisha but didn’t stop us as she led the way up the steps to the house’s wide veranda. A cluster of fiddle-leaf fig trees in ceramic pots screened a pair of rattan grand peacock chairs with fat cream cushions. I dropped into one of them, settling against its high fan-shaped back, my gaze fixed on the tiger as he sank to his belly on the bamboo flooring. He really was enormous -- his head was easily three times the size of mine.

Hmm. His ears were angled back. If it meant the same thing as when my cat did that, he was uneasy about something. His tail flicked back and forth like a metronome.

“So we’ve got this idea,” Tisha began, leaning toward us in her seat. She lowered her voice until I had to strain to hear her over the sound of the wind and the screech of seagulls. “We want to do a showmance.”

That jolted me out of my Dave fog. I’d researched reality shows when I’d decided to do Arcane Island, and I knew a showmance was a romance between two cast members. She can’t possibly mean…

“Me and Valeria?” Dave asked, sitting up. His ears rotated forward like Floofinator’s when she heard the can opener.

Tisha shot him an impatient look. “I told you, you can’t even talk to Valeria except when she’s judging. I mean you and Ariel.”

I’d been afraid of that. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. We want you to have a showmance with Dave.”

The tiger’s mouth dropped open, exposing impressive fangs as his eyes rounded. “Are you out of your mind? Too many legs!”

Tisha frowned, clearly puzzled. “What?”

He manifested a hand and waved it. “Private joke. Which wasn’t very damn funny to start with. This is even less so.”

“Do I have to remind you that bestiality is illegal?” I demanded, thoroughly disgusted. I should have seen this coming. Any deal that sounded this good was bound to blow up in my face. That was the way my luck always ran.

“We’re not talking about having sex,” Tisha said impatiently. “You’d just kiss his manifestation. The visuals would be amazing.”

“So would the death threats on my Twitter feed.”

Tisha’s dark eyes narrowed, taking on a black-ice glint. “May I remind you, you signed a contract. You agreed to attempt the challenges you’re given. You’re being paid well, even aside from the shot at the million. Plus, we footed the bill for your Aurarest for the past few months. If you back out now, you’re going to owe the company fifty thousand in reimbursement for drug costs, because that shit doesn’t come cheap. And that’s aside from the judgment when we sue your ass for breach of contract. Which you will lose.”

“Drug costs?” Dave’s tail twitched as he looked from me to the show runner. “For what?”

Glaring at Tish, I growled, “I have Kimura Syndrome.”

“That’s what’s causing the thing with your aura?”

“That’s the one.”

“And the treatment for it costs ten grand a month,” Tisha said coldly. “Which Hammerhead Productions has been paying for since she signed the contract.”

He eyed me. “Did the meds stop working or what?”

“I had to get off the Aurarest to compete. It blunts my abilities too much.”

“That sucks.”

“If you break that contract, you’d better get used to the pain,” Tish said. Yeah, Hammerhead Productions’ rep for playing hardball was well deserved.

My stomach clenched as I realized I couldn’t afford to tell the showrunner to go fuck a coconut tree. Even aside from being sued, I needed that prize money. And not just so I could afford my prescription. It was my only chance to get out from under the parade of ruthless assholes who’d made my life a living hell since I was thirteen. “Fine, God damn it,” I spat. “I’ll do it. I can’t take much more of this shit.”

“And you knew that.” Dave stared at Tisha, his gold gaze so menacing, I found myself edging back. “You figured that of the female contestants, Ariel was the one who’d agree to the Beauty and the Beastbit. Because she’s just that desperate.”

Tisha winced. “Look, I’m sorry. It wasn’t my idea. Jackson thought…” She flicked a hand. “… It would humanize the Ferals. People are suckers for romance.”

“As I recall,” the tiger drawled, “the reason Humanists gave for opposing gay marriage is folks would want to marry people like menext. They’ll lose their fucking minds.”

I snorted. “How would you be able to tell?”

Tisha leaned her elbows on her knees and dialed the earnest up to eleven. “Dave, I wouldn’t push this if I didn’t think it would help the Talent cause. If we can show that you’re like any other guy, just trapped in a tiger’s body…”

“Yeah, right. We’ll be lucky if they don’t start burning crosses in front of BFS again. That crap is why I had to do this to begin with. Donations go in the shitter when you’re picketed by assholes with AR-15s.”

Tisha glowered. “I’m telling you, this show will make you so popular, they won’t dare give you any trouble.”

“Don’t piss on my head and tell me it’s raining.” His ears pinned flat against the huge skull in question. “I don’t like it.”

I’ll give her one thing: she didn’t back down from all that enraged tiger. Either she had ice water in her veins, or she thought Dave was a lot more harmless than I did. “Will you do it or not?”

Rumbling a deeply pissed sound, he turned to give me a long look. “If I say no, what happens to Ariel?”

I blinked. What did he care? He didn’t even know me.

“You’ll both be in breach. And we’ll sue the shit out of you. And your Tiger King buddy, since he gets the money for his cat sanctuary.”

A familiar grating voice screeched, “I’ll get you, my pretty. You and your little dog, too!” Sounded exactly like the Wicked Witch from The Wizard of Oz. I’d heard Dave do imitations on his YouTube videos, but I hadn’t realized how startling it was in person.

“Well?” Tisha demanded, refusing to be distracted.

He looked away, his tail lashing so hard I expected to hear a bullwhip crack. “All right. Fine. Yeah, I’ll fake your fuckin’ B story.”

“Thank you,” Tisha said, her tone too polite. She glanced down at her watch and rose to her feet. “Look, I’ve got to set up for this afternoon’s production meeting. I have to go.” She rose and paused, looking down at us, frowning. “I really am sorry about this.” Then she vanished through the double doors into the house.

“‘I have to set up for the meeting,’ my striped ass,” Dave growled. “She wanted to get out while the getting was good.”

“Probably. I…” Suddenly it felt as if a knife had plunged into my guts and twisted. The shock of it bent me double, swearing, as pain scoured my skin like steel wool.

Alarmed, Dave jolted to his feet. “What’s happening? Do I need to get Tish to call the doctor?” Reality shows had to have an on-site physician to get insured.

Clinging to the rattan chair arms, I concentrated on breathing through the pain. “No, there’s… there’s nothing… there’s nothing they can do. Whenever I get… get upset, it can trigger attacks.” The pain intensified, and I clenched my teeth against a scream.

Glowing hands caught my wrists. Instantly, a wave of cooling relief surged through me.

Astonished, I looked down at the shining fingers and watched my tangled aura smooth. The burn snuffed out as if hit with a fire extinguisher. “Wow.”

I looked up. Dave had manifested, his human form shining against the background of the palms. I stared at him in wonder. He’d probably never been handsome, but he’d have been striking with that long, strong-featured face and leanly muscled build. Especially clad in an Arcane Corps uniform.

Dave blinked, probably at my awed expression. “What?” He frowned. “What’s going on, Ariel?”

“Touching you makes it better. Why does touching you make it better?”

Dave looked down at where his hands gripped my arms, then closed his eyes so he could see my aura. “It does seem to help. Weird. Wonder why? I mean, I’m not trying to do anything.”

“Probably something about the way our auras interact.” I sighed. The relief almost made me feel dizzy. “Hell, who knows? I don’t understand what causes the problem to begin with.”

His manifestation’s lips tightened. Unlike the rest of Dave’s angular face, his mouth looked soft. “Maybe I can teach you some of the techniques Genevieve Briggs and I developed when we were fighting those terrorists. We might be able to figure out a way you can control your Kimura’s, too.”

“What kind of techniques?”

“Gen can use me as a battery whenever she’s doing a particularly tricky spell. She came up with it when Indigo Ford was trying to break Gen’s ward so her husband could eat us. Trust me, you don’t want to be a polar bear’s chew toy.”

On sheer impulse, I reached up and cupped Dave’s manifested face in my hands. He felt as warm and solid as flesh and blood. Yet my aura swirled at the contact, its normally jagged contours sliding across my skin like skeins of silk. “That’s really kind of you.” I thought of the showmance Tish wanted. Maybe this won’t be all that bad after all.

Impulsively, I leaned forward and kissed Dave’s manifestation right on his glowing mouth. His eyes widened. The taste of his magic flooded over my tongue to roll down my throat like brandy mixed with warmed honey -- thick and sweet. Every hair on my body rose in a wave of erotic heat. I hummed in delight.

Dave jerked away as if my lips had burned him. “Don’t do that,” he said roughly. “Don’t do that unless it’s for the cameras. Not like it’s real.” He slipped from my grasping fingers like the ghost he resembled. His manifestation vanished as the tiger whirled and leaped off the porch.

I jumped to my feet. “Dave! I didn’t mean…”

But he’d already disappeared into the trees.

Yet my pain didn’t come back. For the first time since I’d been fired from the CIA, I felt hope. Maybe there was a way to win this thing. Maybe just this once, there was a way not to lose.

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Hi! Changeling Press is re-releasing the first book in my Arcane Talents series, Arcane Kiss. Here's an excerpt:

Kurt Briggs has a spirit link to a tiger Familiar that gives him superhuman abilities, but when his father is murdered, the military veteran becomes a target for terrorist sorcerers. Alone, Kurt finds he's no match for the witch and her shape-shifting polar bear. He turns to Arcanist Genevieve Reyes for help in fighting the killers' spells.

As Genevieve and Kurt hunt the terrorists, shared danger leads to shared desire. But they soon realize Kurt's passion for Gen weakens his control over his cat. The consequences could be deadly for them both. Genevieve is attracted to Kurt's animal sensuality, but she knows she may be in as much danger from his tiger as she is from the terrorists.

Even if Kurt and Gen manage to stop the terrorists, their evil sorcery may trigger a witch hunt that could mean the destruction of everyone with magical Talent -- including Kurt and Genevieve.

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In this excerpt, Kurt's father has been murdered by magical terrorists. When Kurt's own Familiar was killed in the fight to save his father, the tiger's spirit is trapped in Kurt's body. He finds himself battling the cat's rage -- and his own. Genevieve must attempt to help him regain control.

Kurt knelt beside a body lying crumpled in a pool of blood. Dave stood beside him, his ears flat, his golden eyes too wide.

Oh, crap.

“You bastards!” Kurt leaped to his feet, magic snapping sparks around him. “I’m going to fuckin’ kill you!” His tiger manifested in a golden explosion, forming a glowing shell of magic.

Ice slid through Genevieve’s blood. Oh, God, he’s going to kill somebody.

Gen wasn’t the only one who was freaked out. Dave tensed, though whether he was going to run or do something to stop his friend, she had no idea. A blond man in a Deadpool t-shirt stood on the other side of the cat, watching Kurt as though he expected to be attacked.

There was a gun in his hand.

Kurt roared again, his tiger’s rearing shell surrounding him, balanced weightlessly on its hind legs in a way that would have been impossible for a flesh and blood animal.

She had to do something or that blond guy was going to have to kill him.

“Kurt!” Even as she started toward him, Gen realized what a monumentally bad idea this was. She kept going anyway. It was too easy to imagine how she’d feel if Dad had been sacrificed in an Arcanist spell. “Kurt, I’m so sorry…”

“Lady, what are you doing? Get back.” The blond man’s gaze flicked to her, and he brought the gun up, aiming it at Kurt. He spoke in the dead flat tone of a man whose world had exploded as he desperately tried to contain the fallout. “Get out of here.”

Dave slunk toward her, his gaze on Kurt’s. “Go. He’s out of control. He could hurt you.”

“No, he won’t.” Her gaze locked on Kurt, silhouetted against the blaze of his manifestation. She reached out to him, using her own power to brush his aura. His grief slammed into her consciousness in a battering wave. The impact of it rocked her back on her heels. He’s in so much pain…

“Kurt’s tiger is dead,” the blond man said in a carefully controlled voice. “I think he’s trapped in a feedback loop.”

Soldiers caught in feedback loops had been known to kill their teammates. Oh, hell. We’re screwed.

And yet… Sometimes she could touch another’s aura, reduce the pain, as she’d done for Parvati. She might be able to help Kurt, too. There wasn’t time to draw the kind of intricate spell that would force him to calm down, but if she could reduce his pain enough, he could regain control.

Of course, if it doesn’t work, he may kill me.

Licking dry lips, Genevieve moved slowly forward, sketching sigils in the air to focus her magic. Extending her hands, she sent her aura sliding over his in a gentle brush. “Kurt? I can help you if you’ll let me. I can help you control it.”

The big man’s eyes glowed from the burning mask of his tiger. The manifestation’s mouth opened, displaying mystical teeth that could rip into her skin every bit as efficiently as the physical version. “Genevieve?” The voice sounded inhuman, reverberating as it did with his power. “He’s dead, Genevieve. Dad’s dead.”

“I know, Kurt.”

“Lady, back off!” Deadpool Shirt started toward her. Judging from the glow of his eyes, he was a Feral too.

Kurt’s gaze whipped to him, hot and direct with aggression. He growled, the sound so deep it was almost subsonic.

The man swallowed, but kept coming, broad shoulders tensed to fight. “This is that girl, Genevieve? The witch you like, right?”

“Mine!” Kurt sprang, covering ten feet in an impossible leap as his magic drove his human body forward. Genevieve yelped, startled. His arms snapped around her like a trap clamping shut, and he jerked her against his side.

Gen found herself looking out at the world through the glowing tiger mask. Crap!

In a blur, Deadpool Shirt shifted his aim to follow his friend. “Kurt, stop. Don’t hurt her. Don’t make me shoot you.”

“No!” Dave snapped, a rumbling growl rolling beneath the words. “Holster that weapon before you set him off.”

“I’m not… going… to hurt… her…” Kurt growled.

“Step away!”

“No.” He bared his teeth, and the huge fangs of his manifestation echoed the expression. “She’s mine, Jake!”

“Kurt, you don’t even know her! That’s your cat talking. Let her go!”

“It’s all right,” Genevieve said, touching the powerful arm around her waist to draw his attention. He felt like Michelangelo’s David cast in heated steel.

“No, it’s not.” Kurt met her gaze, his face limned in the glow of his manifestation. The mouth that should have looked sensual twisted in pain until her heart ached for him. “It can’t get any less all right.”

“It can if you hurt her.” The muzzle of Jake’s pistol tracked him steadily, but there was anguish in the Feral’s eyes.

“Don’t threaten me. This is my place. She’s mine.” Kurt tensed, focusing on his friend with the alien gaze of a cat on the edge of exploding into violence.

I’ve got to talk him down, or we’re all screwed. “Look at me, Kurt.” She poured her aura over his, using it to slow the furious churn of his power. “They’re not going to hurt me, and neither are you.”

He stared at her, nothing at all human in those golden Feral eyes.

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Vampire agents, SEALs, captives, and bodyguards fight their way into their women’s hearts.

Hope’s Kiss: When a police detective discovers a chamber of horrors in the basement of an old house, she’s horrified to find her ex-lover, Mark Wilder, locked in one of the cells. Naked and covered in bites and blood, he’s been changed into a vampire. And he’s insane with bloodlust. Unless Hope can reawaken Mark’s humanity, he’s doomed to remain the slave of a vicious predator. What’s worse, his vampire sire intends Hope to become Mark’s first victim.

Kissing the Hunter: Navy SEAL Logan McLean is on a quest for revenge against the monsters who murdered his wife. Virginia Hart is a sexy vampire searching for her lost soulmate, only to find him in a man determined to kill her. She must convince him all vampires aren’t psychotic murderers -- if he doesn’t get her first.

A Candidate for the Kiss: on the trail of a hot story, reporter Dana Ivory stumbles across a truly explosive scoop -- a handsome secret agent who happens to be a vampire. She wants her story, but Gabriel Archer has something much sexier in mind. He’s been looking for someone like Dana for a very long time: a candidate for the kiss.

Blood and Kisses: A murderous vampire assassin is hot on the trail of Beryl St. Cloud. Her only hope lies with yet another bloodsucker, James Decker. Broke and desperate, she offers herself as payment for the mercenary’s protection. But will the price end up being her very soul?

"Angela has compiled another hit in her 2nd volume of Forever Kisses. Vampire agents, SEALs, captives, and bodyguards fight their way into their women’s hearts. Just part of her variety of stories to heat your imagination. So sit back and enjoy."

-- 5 Stars from Ken Thompson, Amazon Review

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He was naked, covered in blood, and lying on the floor of a steel cage.

She’d still know Mark Wilder anywhere.

Detective Hope Barton scanned the room from the bottom step, eyes flicking from the cage to the bloody wooden table beside it, to the shackles that hung from blood-splattered cement walls.

The big, dimly lit basement reeked of murder: body fluids, rotting gore, and helpless suffering. Her stomach heaved, but Hope had been a violent crimes detective for two years, and she’d stood over her share of slaughter. Swallowing hard, she forced her dinner back where it belonged and did her job.

“Mark.” Hope strode toward the cage, ignoring the sticky puddles drying on the cement underfoot. She was too busy scanning the room for the key to his cell. There was no sign of one, dammit. “What the hell happened to you?” When he didn’t move, she raised her voice in a cop’s bark. “Mark!”

He stirred and lifted his head from the cage’s dirty floor. One dazed green eye met hers under a shock of matted blond hair. Blood and filth streaked his face, his lips were cut and bruised, and his left eye was swollen shut.

Somebody had beaten the crap out of him. And judging from his bloody knuckles, he’d fought back hard. Which was no surprise. Mark never took anything lying down.

Her gut twisted. How was she going to get him out of here? She grabbed the thick iron bars in both hands. “Mark… Mark, it’s Hope.”

For a suspended instant, he stared at her without any recognition at all.

“Arrrraaah!” With a tortured animal howl, he leaped at her in an impossible eight-foot bound. Pure reflex had her jolting back, barely dodging his hand as it shot through the bars.

How did he do that? Nobody could jump like that!

Mark’s lips peeled off snapping teeth, his powerful body straining to reach her with fingers curled into claws. His bare, bloody feet thudded on the bars as he kicked them savagely, trying to bend the steel. His one good eye glittered in frenzy.

He has fangs. She froze, staring at his sharply pointed canine teeth. Sweet God, Mark has fangs!

He sure as hell hadn’t had them in high school. She’d put her tongue in his mouth often enough to know.

As he bellowed and clawed, Hope damn near drew down on him. She managed to drag her hand away from the grip of her shoulder-holstered 9mm Glock, but it took an effort. I’m not going to shoot Mark Wilder. God, she ached to call for backup, but she no longer trusted anyone in the department.

Mark finally stopped howling. Clinging to the bars, he stared at her, his good eye feral and desperate, like a wolf with one leg in a bear trap.

“Mark, dammit, it’s me!” She all but screamed it, her voice raw with frustration and fear.

Recognition flickered in his gaze. “Hope?” His voice sounded broken, raspy, as if he’d been screaming. Screaming for a very long time.

Pity raked at her heart, along with a certain tense relief. At least he’d recognized her. “Yeah, it’s me.” She gave him a twisted smile. “Guess you were right. There is a vampire in Reede County.”

“Told you.” He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as if fighting some powerful urge. “I warned you… what he was.”

Yeah, but she’d thought he’d lost his mind. The story he’d told her last week had certainly sounded insane.

* * *

They’d been working their way through a pizza in his den as Blade: Trinity roared away on the big flat-screen television, Wesley Snipes killing vampires with a fanged snarl and flashing arcs of his sword.

It was a DVD choice Hope later realized was deliberate.

She’d folded a slice of the pizza and was about to take a healthy bite when Mark said, “I know who killed Joy.”

Hope dropped the slice back on her plate. He’d said he had something to tell her when he’d invited her over, but she’d had no idea he’d meant anything like this. He looked tense, as if he dreaded telling her whatever he had in mind, his green eyes narrow and wary. “I’m listening.”

“Patrick Stone came to my folks’ house the night after Joy died.”

“The tent revival preacher? You think he killed your sister?” She wished she could reject the idea, but she couldn’t. Sexual predators often assumed religious covers that gave them access to victims, and they moved around a lot to keep from getting caught.

“Yeah. We thought Stone was going to offer to pray with us or something, like my folks’ pastor had.” Mark braced his elbows on his knees. A muscle in his jaw flexed as he bit off the next words. “Instead, the fucker told us all to forget about her, that she was nothing but a little slut.”

“Oh, my God. He said that to your parents? So how hard did you kick his ass? And how many punches did your daddy get in?” She grinned, imagining Ted Wilder’s reaction to anybody saying something like that about his little girl. Preacher or no, Ted would have taken the guy apart.

“None. Dad believed the bastard. They both did.” Mark’s big hands flexed between his knees.

“What? That makes no sense. What did you do?”

“Invited Stone outside and tried to knock his teeth down his throat. He blocked every punch, tossed me on my ass…” Mark stopped and took a deep breath. “And then he told me he was a vampire. Showed me his fangs and told me exactly what he did to Joy. In sickening detail.”

“He actually had false teeth made to look like fangs?” That would explain the puncture marks in the victims’ bite wounds.

“No, Hope. He really is a vampire. He said that’s how he made my parents believe him -- he’s got psychic abilities no human can resist.”

A chill raced over her skin, and Hope had to work to keep her face expressionless. On the screen, Wesley showed his fangs in a flash of white against his dark skin. “Let me get this straight. You believe your sister was murdered by a vampire?”

He didn’t look away. “I know how crazy it sounds, but yeah, that’s exactly what I believe.”

 

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