Circle of the Moon Soulwood #4
Amazon BN iBooks Google Play
Set in the same world as Faith Hunter's New York Times bestselling Jane Yellowrock novels, the fourth Soulwood novel stars Nell Ingram, who channels her power from the earth.Excerpt #3:
Nell can draw magic from the land around her, and lately she's been using it to help the Psy-Law Enforcement Division, which solves paranormal crimes. Joining the team at PsyLED has allowed her to learn more about her powers and the world she always shunned--and to find true friends.
Head agent Rick LaFleur shifts into a panther when the moon calls him, but this time, something has gone wrong. Rick calls Nell from a riverbank--he's naked, with no memory of how he came to be there, and there's a dead black cat, sacrificed in a witch circle and killed by black magic, lying next to him.
Then more animals turn up dead, and team rushes to investigate. A blood-witch is out to kill. But when it seems as if their leader is involved in the crime, the bonds that hold the team together could shatter at any moment.
My heart thundered and warmth rushed all through me, a strange and wonderful electric heat that settled low in my belly. Desire. This is what desire feels like.
The cells dinged again, reminding us. Occam cursed and I made a sound that was close to a moan as I eased away. I dropped my head back to the blanket I had spread on the too-long summer grass for our picnic. I breathed out a laugh, the sound only a little frustrated. That was what I told myself. Only a little. Stars were visible around the edges of Occam’s head, his thin hair looking brittle even in the pale light.
“Look!” I said, pointing. A shooting star raced overhead and blinked out. “First one. Make a wish!”
“I’m pert’ near certain that my wish has already been ruined by that text, Nell, sugar,” he said. “You go ahead. Maybe you’ll have better luck.”
I said my quick wish and turned my head to him, knowing he could see better in the dark than I could. I wasn’t human, but my kind of paranormal didn’t have any superpowers like better night vision. My wish was carnal and sinful and full of hope. And also ruined by the text.
Occam rolled off me and we reached for our cells, answering them to see identical texts from PsyLED. Get to HQ ASAP. Trouble, it read. The text was from JoJo, second in command of Unit Eighteen.
“No court in the land would convict me if I killed her,” Occam growled.
I laughed again, remembering the feel of his weight over me, pressing into me. Remembering the shot of excitement that flashed through me like lightning before settling deep inside. Excitement. Not fear. Desire. The physical need I’d read about and—
The cells dinged again, this time from JoJo’s personal cell. It read, If your cells were any closer they’d be making cell-babies. I hate to say stop, because I really hope you two are getting busy, loud and long and satisfying, but I need you at HQ. Both of you. Days off canceled.
Occam pulled me to my feet, still cat-strong, though not so flexible as before the fire. That part of his were-taint abilities hadn’t been affected by the instinctive and peculiar healing I had managed the night he was burned and had died, and my up-line boss nearly so—the night I’d hauled them back from the claws of death. Occam might look a mess yet, he might move slower than before, but he was getting better, bit by bit, every time he shifted into his spotted leopard. That was a natural part of the were-taint gift. I helped where I could, when he shifted on my land, drawing on the power of Soulwood, feeding him the way I did the land when it was injured. If I could see his scarring, see what he needed, maybe I could help more or better. But Occam was stubborn about me seeing the scars on his body. Which was why my secret wish on the shooting star had not yet been fulfilled. Dang cat.
“Gear up,” he said. “I’ll drive.”
“And that means I’ll have no form of transportation back here in the morning.”
“‘At sounds about right.”
I hid a smile in the darkness and let him lead me to my own front porch. And wondered if sounding about right meant he intended to pick up where we left off.
The cells dinged again, reminding us. Occam cursed and I made a sound that was close to a moan as I eased away. I dropped my head back to the blanket I had spread on the too-long summer grass for our picnic. I breathed out a laugh, the sound only a little frustrated. That was what I told myself. Only a little. Stars were visible around the edges of Occam’s head, his thin hair looking brittle even in the pale light.
“Look!” I said, pointing. A shooting star raced overhead and blinked out. “First one. Make a wish!”
“I’m pert’ near certain that my wish has already been ruined by that text, Nell, sugar,” he said. “You go ahead. Maybe you’ll have better luck.”
I said my quick wish and turned my head to him, knowing he could see better in the dark than I could. I wasn’t human, but my kind of paranormal didn’t have any superpowers like better night vision. My wish was carnal and sinful and full of hope. And also ruined by the text.
Occam rolled off me and we reached for our cells, answering them to see identical texts from PsyLED. Get to HQ ASAP. Trouble, it read. The text was from JoJo, second in command of Unit Eighteen.
“No court in the land would convict me if I killed her,” Occam growled.
I laughed again, remembering the feel of his weight over me, pressing into me. Remembering the shot of excitement that flashed through me like lightning before settling deep inside. Excitement. Not fear. Desire. The physical need I’d read about and—
The cells dinged again, this time from JoJo’s personal cell. It read, If your cells were any closer they’d be making cell-babies. I hate to say stop, because I really hope you two are getting busy, loud and long and satisfying, but I need you at HQ. Both of you. Days off canceled.
Occam pulled me to my feet, still cat-strong, though not so flexible as before the fire. That part of his were-taint abilities hadn’t been affected by the instinctive and peculiar healing I had managed the night he was burned and had died, and my up-line boss nearly so—the night I’d hauled them back from the claws of death. Occam might look a mess yet, he might move slower than before, but he was getting better, bit by bit, every time he shifted into his spotted leopard. That was a natural part of the were-taint gift. I helped where I could, when he shifted on my land, drawing on the power of Soulwood, feeding him the way I did the land when it was injured. If I could see his scarring, see what he needed, maybe I could help more or better. But Occam was stubborn about me seeing the scars on his body. Which was why my secret wish on the shooting star had not yet been fulfilled. Dang cat.
“Gear up,” he said. “I’ll drive.”
“And that means I’ll have no form of transportation back here in the morning.”
“‘At sounds about right.”
I hid a smile in the darkness and let him lead me to my own front porch. And wondered if sounding about right meant he intended to pick up where we left off.
__________________________________
Faith collects orchids and animal skulls, loves thunder storms, and writes. She likes to cook soup, bake homemade bread, garden, and run Class III whitewater rivers. She edits the occasional anthology and drinks a lot of tea. Some days she’s a lady. Some days she ain't.
Find Faith and her books
__________________________________
Tour Wide
a Rafflecopter giveaway
