A thieving pirate is my future mate? No matter.
I’ll make her an honest jaguar, whatever it takes.
Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Angela Knight
Genres/Themes: Paranormal, Sci-fi, Alien Encounters, Shapeshifters
Though I’ve already lost one mate, I can’t help but want Soledad Martinez for my own. Unfortunately, she proves to be as elusive as the jaguar sharing her consciousness. Every time I think I might get close to her, she slips through my fingers, laughing as she escapes me. Again and again. She’s maddening, beautiful, deadly, and the most intriguing female I’ve ever met.
When I finally catch her, I promise I will never let her go, even if I have to cage her. Yet she escapes me once more — and the fault is my own. Worse, in my haste to make her mine, I’ve forgotten one very important thing.
The beings that seek to use the shifters for their own purposes are still out there. Still hunting. And they have my pirate.
Someone is going to die.
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Raisa Greywood
My new home was a gorgeous mixture of wood, stone, and glass. Massive windows faced the pastures, allowing light from the twin suns into a large great room. A stone fireplace took up one whole wall opposite the windows. The room was almost too large, but the earth-toned colors and heavy furniture made it seem comfortable and cozy.
Markon kissed my hand, holding it to his cheek for a moment before letting go. “Are you ready to go inside?” he asked.
The affectionate gesture made my heart pound. I didn’t know if I should reciprocate or ignore it. He was so confusing! I wasn’t sure which of his personas was real. Was he gentle and caring, or was he vindictive and cruel?
He didn’t allow me time to explore, instead leading me to an expansive kitchen with a large wooden table in the center of the room. My mother would have loved this kitchen, even though I doubted she would have recognized the equipment.
“I’m just going to do something replicated for lunch. If you’d like something fresh, I’ll have to call the cook in.”
“Replicated is fine.” I wasn’t very hungry, but he seemed intent on feeding me something, even though it had only been a few hours since our last meal. A few minutes later, the replicator chimed and I stood to help.
“Have a seat. I’ve got it.” He lifted two trays from the machine and brought them to the table. I inhaled the delicious scent of spicy beans and rice. It was comfort food for me, and I couldn’t imagine how he’d known that. I’d grown up on this meal.
“My mother used to make this for us. She would serve soup with it.” I sniffed back a tear, remembering how hard she’d worked to make a good life for us.
“What kind of soup?”
His soft voice encouraged me to let go of those memories. “Sometimes it was just hot water with dried peppers. If we could find game or fish, it was a celebration, and she would make the bones into stock. She would serve a formal meal with china and glass, and we would wear our best clothes…”
I smiled and shook my head as I spooned up the beans. It wasn’t the same, but it wasn’t bad. Just different. I hadn’t really considered that I’d have preferences for food. I’d always eaten what was put in front of me, whether it appealed or not. Even when I’d had a choice on the Athena, I hadn’t cared. Food in Mendaros had been fresh and most of the meals had been lovely, but they didn’t taste as good as this replicated spicy beans and rice.
When I’d finished my meal, he gave me a plate of something creamy and white with black berries scattered over the top. It smelled sweet, but a little tart at the same time.
“What is this?”
“It’s called cheesecake, I think. The science officer from Rakon’s battle cruiser made a study of historic Earth foods and I thought you might like it.” He scowled down at the food and added, “It was supposed to have something called strawberries on top, but we don’t have those. I hope the raka berries are good with it.”
I liked the tart, sweet berries so popular on Ximera. I cut a piece of the cheesecake and brought it to my lips. Rich, creamy goodness exploded over my tongue. By itself, the cheesecake was sublime in its simplicity. The raka berries made it transcendent. The fork fell from my hand as I moaned in pleasure and started to purr.
Markon smiled faintly and picked up my discarded fork. Cutting another bite, he put his free hand under my chin and held the food to my lips. “Open,” he whispered.
I obeyed his command, sucking every bit from the fork he’d placed in my mouth. Meu deus, the cheesecake thing was delicious. I’d never tasted anything so wonderful. I could smell the fat and sugar as it mingled with the tart berries. My mouth watered for another bite.
He stole a bite for himself instead of giving me another taste. Yet I wasn’t disappointed. He growled low as he sucked the fork clean and tossed it away. His eyes bored into me, and I shifted uncomfortably against the hard wood of the chair.
“I wasn’t finished.”
“Neither am I.” He swiped a finger through the creamy treat and held it to my lips. I sucked the digit into my mouth, swirling my tongue around his flesh to get every last morsel. The combination of him and the dessert made me wet, and I clenched my thighs together, my clit aching at the movement.
My jaguar started to purr and I couldn’t stop the low vibration escaping my lips. Markon’s eyes darkened and he hissed out a breath. I could smell his arousal. It was hot and sweet, better than the cheesecake we hadn’t finished, and it made me dizzy with need.
Standing, he held out a hand. “Come,” he ordered.