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MASTERED BY HER CAPTOR is back!!!

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It’s back!!! MASTERED BY HER CAPTOR is available for pre-order on Amazon again!

They had decided to ban the book and cancelled my pre-order. So… if you pre-ordered it before, or want to now, it’s available!

 

Kalie Terron

The man who kidnapped me has haunted my dreams for weeks. Hot sexy dreams of his full lips moving on me. Over my naked body. Touching me in soft, intimate places.
 
As my captor, he wore jeans and a casual shirt. I hadn’t known that the man who brought my sexual fantasy to life is a powerful, wealthy businessman.
 
Now I’ve tracked him down, determined to convince him to give us a chance.
 
I’ve seen his eyes with a dominating edge. I’ve seen them filled with passion. And even filled with an intense need that rivaled my own. But now those eyes are cold and detached, as if what the two of us shared was nothing to him.
 
But I won’t give up.
 
Erik King
Kalie wants a relationship. Flowers and candlelight. Soft words spoken in front of a fire. But I’m not a romantic kind of guy. I like my sex rough and hard. And I like my women soft and submissive.
 
Just because she enjoyed a fantasy about being kidnapped by two strong, powerful men, she thinks she can handle what I want. She doesn’t get that what I enjoy is in a whole different league.
 
She seems intimidated by my status, which is good. I intend to take every opportunity to keep her off balance. For her own good, as well as mine.
 
Her unyielding determination tells me it will be difficult to convince her to back off. Thus, my only alternative is to use intimidation to scare her away.
 
So I will give her the chance she’s been begging for, confident that in the end, she’ll be begging to get away from me.
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Special Bonus: I really want to ensure you don’t miss the beginning of Kalie and Erik’s story so I have included the novelette, The Captive, which is the prequel to this novella.
(Note: Both The Captive and Mastered by her Captor follow Mr. King from The Office Slave series.)

All books in the Mastered By series are stand-alone HEA stories with no cliff-hangers and can be read in any order.

To pre-order on Amazon:

The other on-line stores have it for pre-order, too. (They never had a problem with it!)

BN:        http://bit.ly/1YV0SCI

Captured Box Set, Day 8: Debt Inheritance by Pepper Winters!

Quote+Card+-+Pepper+WintersHello Readers! Thank you so much for keeping up with our coverage of the Captured box set- we’re almost finished!  Today we’ll be looking at one of the more sinister selections, Debt Inheritance by NYT & USAT Bestselling author, Pepper Winters!

Nila must pay the centuries-old carnal debt owed to Hawke’s lineage. There are no rules, only payments. #CapturedSet: http://amzn.to/WoQs3H

“I own you. I have the piece of paper to prove it. It’s undeniable and unbreakable. You belong to me until you’ve paid off your debts.”

Nila Weaver’s family is indebted. Being the first born daughter, her life is forfeit to the first born son of the Hawks to pay for sins of ancestors past. The dark ages might have come and gone, but debts never leave. She has no choice in the matter.

She is no longer free.

Jethro Hawk receives Nila as an inheritance present on his twenty-ninth birthday. Her life is his until she’s paid off a debt that’s centuries old. He can do what he likes with her—nothing is out of bounds—she has to obey.

There are no rules. Only payments.

The Captured Box Set: 9 Alpha Bad Boys Who Will Capture Your Heart, is available now!

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Excerpt from Debt Inheritance by NYT & USAT Bestselling Author, Pepper Winters!

I sat on my newest purchase, resting like a mechanical shadow by the curb. It didn’t glint or gleam. It waited in black silence ready to charge into the night.

Give her options. Don’t make her suspect. Threaten only when necessary. Above all, take her without causing attention.

The rules my father told me the morning I left to fly to Milan, repeated in my head. I was obeying. Even though it was fucking hard. I struggled to balance my true nature with that of a polite gentleman, coaxing a skittish woman out for dinner.

As if I would be interested in a girl like her. Meek. Skinny. Beyond fucking sheltered it was insane.

Grabbing the throttle of my bike, I waged with ignoring my father’s rules and stalking into the venue and stealing Nila Weaver in front of everyone. She could scream, shout—it wouldn’t make a difference. But that wasn’t allowed.

The other option was I could just fuck off and kidnap her from her hotel room.

She has to come willingly.

My father’s voice again. Kidnapping was the last resort.

I growled under my breath.

I’d let her go, not because of some decency, or concern of what would happen to her family’s happiness, or even the upcoming pain in her future. No, I let her go, because I was my father’s son and followed a plan. But there was a deeper reason, too.

I was a hunter. Skilled with both bow and arrow and gun. I stalked the weaker and slit their throats when they succumbed to my careful aim.

But sometimes I liked to…miss. I liked to give them a small window of safety, all while closing the noose when they didn’t expect it.

I liked to play with my food.

The chase was the best part. Hunting was intoxicating. And knowing I had the power to snuff out Nila Weaver’s life the moment I caught her gave me a certain…thrill.

That was the only reason I restrained myself and followed the rules.

I had no secrets of why I would stain my hands with her blood. I had no misplaced vendettas or agendas.

Everything that would come to pass was for one simple and undisputable fact.

There was a debt to be paid. And I was the method of extraction. Plain and simple.

I’m a Hawk. She’s a Weaver.

That was all I needed to know.

In the library a week ago, while sipping on a ten thousand pound bottle of cognac, my father proceeded to tell me a little of our history. He told me gruesome things. Dastardly things. Tears shed. Blood spilled.

He told me what happened to Nila’s mother.

He also told me why every firstborn Weaver girl had a stain upon her life. I understood it. I accepted it. I was given the task to uphold my family’s honour. And I fully intended to extract payment as meticulously and as painfully as possible.

It wasn’t often I was given the opportunity to make my bastard of a father proud. I didn’t intend to let him down.

Even though I wouldn’t enjoy it.

Liar. You will enjoy it.

A tight smile twisted my lips. Fine. I would enjoy it. Nila Weaver would be my greatest trophy. I might not be able to display her head on my wall once I was through, but I would treasure the memories.

Something told me I would no longer find pleasure in hunting hapless deer after I’d hunted a woman.

Oh, yes. I would enjoy ruining Nila, because I liked breaking things. But not in a gruesome barbaric way.

I liked to break them smoothly, gently, ruthlessly. I liked to think I transformed creatures from their present to their potential.

Pity once Nila was transformed she wouldn’t be allowed to enjoy her evolution. She would be dead.

That was the final toll. That was her future.

To kill something so naïvely pretty…

It made me angry in a way to think of such delicate perfection snuffed out. But there was no point thinking of the end when the chase had just begun.

“Nice bike.”

My head snapped up, eyes locking onto my prey. The same prey who’d run yet returned.

She’d returned? I was right before. She truly is stupid.

Nila drifted forward, threading and unthreading her fingers. I didn’t move or utter a sound.

She responded to my silence—like everything. I’d learned that cursing and yelling could be frightening—but silence…it was the empty void where enemies’ fears polluted. Stay quiet long enough and horror would be struck with one whisper instead of a multitude of profanities.

She waved at my bike, her eyes wider than before…darker than before.

Deciding to grant her a reply, I said, “It’s my version of accessorising.” The Harley-Davidson was a new purchase. Sleek and sharp, nicknamed The Little Black Dress.

Stroking the throttle, I tilted my head. Her dusky skin had colour. Her pronounced cheekbones were flushed, trailing residual temper down her neck. Something had happened.

Something had upset her.

Did she find her father, only for him to disown her and send her back to me?

I frowned. Could Archibald Weaver truly send his only daughter not once, but twice, to her death? He knew what awaited her. He knew what would happen if he didn’t give her up. But was family honour that strong? Or was there more to this debt than I’d been told?

Either way, it was time to go. Time to begin her nightmare.

“You returned.”

She nodded. “I returned. I want something from you. And I’m not going to be shy about asking.”

A flicker of surprise caught me unaware. She came across shy and timid, but there lurked steel in her voice. Little did she know what I wanted from her in return.

“Fair enough. I have something to discuss with you.”

Don’t make her suspect.

“What?”

Your future. Your death.

“Nothing important, but we need to go.”

Time to begin. The time is nigh to pay your debts.

Nila came closer, shedding the tameness, and embracing courage. I would’ve been intrigued if I didn’t already know everything about her.

Such a silly girl. A silly toy.

Whatever she wanted from me, I’d oblige. After all, she’d been given to me to do as I pleased.

And everyone knows you don’t give a pet to a killer.

Captured Box Set, Day 7: Burns Like Fire By Mandy Rosko

Quote+Card+-+Mandy+Rosko-2Hello & Welcome back Readers! Today we take another look into the Captured Box’s paranormal stories, and this one is by far the hottest- literally. Without further adieu, let us turn up the heat with NYT & USAT Bestselling author Mandy Rosko’s story, Burns Like Fire.

Jack Marilla’s out for revenge against the pyromancer that set his house ablaze- with his family within. #CapturedSet http://amzn.to/WoQs3H

Scarred by flame and the loss of his family, Jack Marilla will stop at nothing to take down the fire-starter that ruined his life, but only if he can resist her fiery temptation…

Jack Marilla is out for revenge for the deaths of his family, and the burn scars that cover his body. To get it, he has to hunt down the woman he used to love, the paranormal fire starter who set his house ablaze with him, and his family, locked inside of it. When he catches her, however, he faces his biggest challenge yet. To not believe her when she claims to be innocent, or fall for her seduction…

The Captured Box Set: 9 Alpha Bad Boys Who Will Capture Your Heart, is available now!

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Excerpt from Burns like Fire by NYT & USAT Bestselling Author, Mandy Rosko

“Hi, Cindy.”

Cindy stared at him. Her bright amethyst eyes widened so he could see the whites all around.

Her glossy peach lips dropped open as her facial expression changed from scared to all hell to just plain confused. He got a real dumb sense of satisfaction over that. Yeah, she’d thought he was good and dead.

“Jack?” she practically shrieked his name.

She was so focused on his face, probably wondering why it wasn’t melted, or why he was even alive, that she didn’t look down and see the rag or the shackles hanging in his free hand until it was too late.

She tried to jump to the passenger side, to get away, but Jack lunged. He grabbed her by her frail shoulders and pushed her down across the seats. He pushed the rag hard over her mouth and nose before she could shriek for help.

He had the shackle in his other hand and he almost got it down on her wrist before she punched him good and hard in the nose. Her thin, tiny knuckles didn’t look like much, but they hurt like a bitch on impact. He thought he even heard a crunch.

“Ah, fuck!” He reared back and dropped the cuffs to the floor of her car, but he didn’t take the cloth off of her nose as he cursed and yelled.

That fucking hurt! Blood dripped from his nose and onto her pale collarbone and dress in the struggle. She got him good that time. He wasn’t about to let her do it to him again.

Her sharp manicured nails scratched at his hands, drawing even more blood. Jack grabbed both of her wrists and yanked them above her head, holding them down with one hand while he kept up the pressure of the cloth with the other. She kicked and struggled as she breathed in the chemical, but she didn’t have the strength to buck him off and he avoided her knees when she tried to get him in the balls.

Don’t summon fire. Don’t summon fire, he chanted in his head over and over again. She had it in her eyes, he could see it building up around her as the temperature of her body increased.

If she burned him, he wouldn’t be able to handle it. He’d fly right off her and she’d be as good as gone. She’d get away and he might never find her again.

Cindy’s struggles beneath him started to let up. There wasn’t much physical strength to begin with, but now it was almost nonexistent as the hint of flames left her eyes, and her body went limp.

Jack released her hands. He panted for breath as if he was the one who’d just lost the fight. The car stank of sweat mixed with the sweet scent of the chloroform. He was careful to keep the rag away from his own face, already starting to feel sort of dizzy himself.

“I finally got you,” he said.

Then Cindy’s eyes widened as she came alive again. She clawed at his hands and arms with her manicured nails, scratching deep.

“Fuck! Stop that!” Jack roared, grabbing onto her wrists and yanking them above her head again.

Holy shit, she’d just faked that. Smart. It pissed him the hell off, but he had to admit it was smart.

When blood beaded up from the scratches on his hand, Jack growled, and he forgot all about being impressed. Was she ever going to pass out? Had he used enough of the chemical? If she didn’t go under soon then that fire would come and light him up like his father and brothers.

No fire came. Cindy’s struggles weakened, for real this time as he held the rag to her face, for longer this time. Her bright, fearful eyes slid shut as she gave one last jerk before going under.

Jack sighed, relaxing his tense muscles as the only sound in the car was his own heavy breathing. He wiped the sweat off his brow. Not the worst paranormal he’d put under by far, but she hadn’t given in easily.

Adrenaline rushed through him as he stared down at her unconscious form. Cindy’s hair was all over the damned place, her arms up high as her breasts rose and fell in sleep. She could have just dozed off for how innocent she looked. The only thing that gave away the struggle was her flushed skin.

He pulled the damp cloth away from her mouth and nose. He hadn’t even realized his heart was beating so fast, and he lifted himself off of her.

Being on top of an unconscious woman was creepy, regardless of who she was and why they were both there.

“Holy Christ,” he sighed, letting himself drop to the cool and dirty pavement of the parking lot.

He sucked in a breath of clean, fresh air, and carded his fingers through his hair.

Though he hated having to touch her again, even for the capture, he’d still noticed how smooth her skin felt when he’d grabbed her arms. Her body beneath his had been exactly the same. It was like muscle memory had taken over when he’d straddled her, and as she’d bucked her hips up to try and push him off, his body had responded.

It wasn’t his fault his dick didn’t know the difference between fighting and fucking, that it didn’t realize she’d been trying to get him off of her, not gyrating against his heavy prick for friction.

Jack shook his head. That was too weird, especially considering she’d burned down the house he and his family had been sleeping in..

Fuck that and fuck her. He wasn’t going to feel guilty because he was a healthy male who was reacting to a beautiful woman. She was the one with something to answer for, not him.

All because Jack had been the one guy in the whole history of time stupid enough to tell a pyro that his family made their profession out of hunting paranormals for the government.

Really, what had he expected her to do? Be happy about it?

“I got you,” he said again, and then he laughed as he stared up at the night sky. The stars were bright. “I got you.”

Captured Box Set, Day 5: Handcuffed To The Sheikh, By Teresa Morgan

Quote+Card+-+Teresa+MorganAlien abductions? Paranormal jaguar problems? How can the Captured box set get any crazier? Well, Teresa Morgan has the answer in the form of a hilarious & peculiar story about a crazy man and a pair of handcuffs. Always a good start, right?

Today we’ll be looking at Handcuffed to the Sheikh by NYT & USAT Bestselling author, Teresa Morgan!

A stranger with #handcuffs, claiming to be an Arabian prince, looking seduce me? I’d be crazy to say no! #CapturedSet http://amzn.to/WoQs3H

The last thing Maxine Foss ever expected was to be handcuffed to a sexy, but crazy, guy who claims he’s an Arabian prince… and is determined to seduce her. Best. Abduction. Ever.

When she opened her front door, the last thing Maxine Foss expected was a hot stranger with a set of handcuffs. Now she’s shackled to a sexy, but crazy, person who claims he’s an Arabian prince—and her lover. No way. If she had ever gotten naked with a guy this delicious, she would never forget.

Insanity is catching…

Alone in a secluded cabin, Sayd offers his body for her pleasure. But the price for giving in to his temptation could be her sanity, not to mention her freedom… and just maybe, her life.

The Captured Box Set: 9 Alpha Bad Boys Who Will Capture Your Heart, is available now!

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Excerpt from Handcuffed to the Sheikh, by NYT & USAT Bestselling Author, Teresa Morgan

“You are very quiet,” her abductor said, in a casual tone, steering the bike even more casually. “Have you thought about apologizing to me? Offering an explanation? Perhaps some begging? I do enjoy your begging, under other circumstances.”

She seesawed between rage and disbelief. Why should she apologize to him? He was the one who’d just committed a crime and he wanted to blame her for it? Acid growled in her gut at the injustice of it. But his words made her brain skip in confusion, like a CD with a scratch. He spoke like he knew “I will never apologize to you,” she spewed at him, as if the words were poisonous. 

He slammed the brakes so hard the bike jerked. On instinct, she grabbed him for support.

With her hands clamped to his chest, she felt his heart beating a furious tempo, even through his jacket. He’d handled the bike… hell, he’d committed the act of abduction with such calm, but underneath he outward signs, he hid some great emotion. Excitement at his upcoming torture session? Or maybe something else?

She felt him slow his breaths as if measuring them out. He removed his helmet leisurely, with a controlled deliberateness.

The moon, emerging from behind its cloudy screen for an instant, made his hair gleam blue-
black. His profile, all strong chin and harsh lines, made her suck in a breath. His all-male gorgeousness seemed designed to melt women in their tracks. Combined with his powerful body, he didn’t seem like the kind of guy who needed to abduct any girl. In fact, she could picture women lining up to be kidnapped by.

If he wasn’t pure crazy, she might have considered joining the queue.

He dismounted the bike, dragging her off against her will, since her arms were shackled around him. Without stopping, as if she was just a fly stuck to his back, he strode across the pine needle-strewn yard. His long steps forced her to scramble to keep from tripping.

“Hey,” she protested, but he clearly couldn’t hear her muffled voice without the helmet speaker.

So she took the opportunity to curse him out in privacy. Each creative swear word strengthened her courage.

Her helmet blocked her peripheral vision, so she couldn’t see much of what looked like a three or four-room cabin with walls of raw wood and tiles falling off the roof. The bike was probably worth twice what the cabin was. It didn’t add up.

He twisted a key in the lock, and she zoned in on him putting the key away in his inside pocket, in case that info came in handy later. She paid such close attention that she nearly missed him place his thumb on a knot in the wood next to the door—and the subtle green light that swept over his thumbprint.

She heard the distinct click of metal locks unbolting.

Really? A high tech security system for this tumble-down place? Her throat nearly closed. Maybe he intended on assaulting her and disposing of the body after all. If so, he could definitely give Dexter a

run for his money.

The kitchen they stepped into was no less high tech. He turned on the light to reveal gleaming black appliances, polished granite countertops, and restaurant-quality gadgets. The outside of the ‘cabin’ might seem like it was about to fall over, but the inside? Pure luxury. The whole place was built to deceive someone into dismissing the exterior while the inhabitants lived in lavish comfort.

With one abrupt motion, he turned in place. Instead of being held against his back, Max faced him, getting a close-up view of the stiff curling hairs escaping the slight V of his dark shirt. He snapped the strap under her chin and lifted the helmet away, setting it on the counter next to his own.

Her mouth dried up. There had never been a man more handsome than this one. Flawless dark Arabian skin and eyes greyer than the granite that surrounded her. Lips—God above, those lips would seduce her all by themselves. It wasn’t fair that he also had a strong column of neck and shoulders like rock cliffs. Not an ounce of fat on him. Carbs probably ran from this man in sheer terror.

She tried to lean away from him so he couldn’t feel her heart pounding a crazy beat under her ribs. Her entire body had turned traitor. How could her hormones go into overdrive for the guy who’d just drugged and abducted her? It wasn’t fair. She looked at the floor, praying the blush incinerating her cheeks wouldn’t betray her.

No hope. He caught her chin in one hand and forced her to look into his. For an instant, she thought she saw a spark of amusement there, before he narrowed his gaze to grey slits.

“On your knees, Maxine Rosalie Foss,” he ordered.

Kneel? But that would put her at eye level with his… What did he want her to do?

Incensed by the unfairness of it, she wanted to scream ‘never,’ but she didn’t trust her voice with that many syllables. “No.”

“Do you prefer to be locked together like this forever? I don’t mind if you don’t.” His seducer’s lips quirked up at one corner.

In a flash, she saw what he wanted. She was supposed to lower her arms so he could step out of the circle made by the handcuffs. She hadn’t thought she could blush any harder. Damn, she must be purple in the face by now.

“You could unlock me instead,” she suggested, without much hope.

“But hayati.” A scarlet tongue wet his full bottom lip. “That would be so much less fun for me.”

He was in control—she couldn’t do a thing about it. The more she resisted, the more he’d enjoy watching her writhe. Before she could think too much about it, she lowered herself to one knee and put her hands on the floor. Her cheek touched muscled thighs encased in dark, soft denim. She tried not to think about that, either.

He took his time stepping back, drawing out her mortification as long as possible. Before she could stand again, he planted a leather boot on the chain of the cuffs. She couldn’t misread the message.

He had all the power. She could submit, or suffer.

On instinct, she looked up to see pitiless grey eyes smoldering at her. “Are you certain you will never apologize to me, Max?”

Captured Box Set, Day 4: The Jaguar’s Rule by T.J. Michaels

Quote+Card+-+TJ+MichaelsHello again Readers! There’s nothing like a sexy exotic adventure to take you away from the doldrums of the day-to-day, so let’s see what we’ve got on the paranormal side of things!

Today we’ll be looking at The Jaguar’s Rule by NYT & USAT bestselling author, T.J. Michaels!

Careful what you wish for, sometimes the person you long to keep has the same idea for you… almost. #CapturedSet: http://amzn.to/WoQs3H

After an irresistible night of passion with Reya, Aaron James longs to hold her close forever. Little does he know that the tall, sleek beauty has a carnal secret—and he’s the one who needs protection.

Reya Daines has dedicated her life to the conservation of jaguars. With the only bed-and-breakfast at the entrance to Cockscomb Jaguar Sanctuary, she can keep an eye on poachers and still indulge her guests in her first love—scuba diving. But something unusual is happening on the reserve and the big cats are restless. Something has invaded their habitat. And that something wants Reya. Aaron James is a hard nut to crack. A shrewd businessman and always determined to see to his own affairs, he finds he can’t quite take care of things himself after his plane goes down in the jungles of Belize. The woman who rescues him is a loner just like him. But he finds he doesn’t want her to be a loner, unless she’s alone with him. When he learns she’s in danger from the same menace she’s saved him from twice, what’s a determined man to do with an equally stubborn woman?

The Captured Box Set: 9 Alpha Bad Boys Who Will Capture Your Heart, is available now!

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Excerpt from Jaguar’s Rule by NYT & USAT Bestselling author, T.J. Michaels

Reya followed Dr. Matons out of her bedroom and closed the door with a quiet snap. After brewing herself a cup of tea, she joined her old friend out on the screened veranda and plopped down in her favorite plastic patio chair. The smell of the passing storm was heavy in the air, along with the scent of charred wood and jet fuel. In spite of the evening’s hair-raising events, she was calm and determined.

Vanilla and clove scented smoke floated up from Dr. Matons’ pipe. She should have never asked her Aunt Sulu to send the stuff. Now the old curmudgeon would never again settle for the local tobaccos.

“Well, our little patient was lucky tonight,” Dr. Matons drawled around his pipe.

“Little patient?” Reya queried with amusement. She was sure she’d never met a man so long his feet practically hung off the edge of her bed, or a more muscularly perfect specimen as the one lying in her bedroom. She and Dr. Matons had spent the past several hours removing glass and plastic from various patches of skin. They’d stitched the deeper cuts across his back, wrapped his chest tightly and cleaned off all the blood. She’d seen every inch of his magnificent body and there was nothing, and she meant nothing, little about him.

“It’s a good thing you were out on patrol when his plane went down. I don’t know if he would have made it otherwise,” the doctor said, blowing out a ring of thick smoke. “He is certainly handsome, as men go.” His eyes crinkled at the sides as he watched her. The old matchmaker. Always looking for someone to pair her up with. Even an unconscious man in serious condition.

When she didn’t answer but stared out into the night, he continued. “I gave him a strong painkiller, but he’s not out of the woods. Do you mind if I sleep here so I can check on him during the night?”

“No, I don’t mind at all. Why don’t you take the office? The futon in there is pretty comfy. I’ll take the couch.” Her eyes hadn’t strayed from the tangle of ferns and vines leading into the dark canopy of jungle no more than a hundred yards from her back stairs.

“You’re not planning on going back out in this deluge, are you?”

“The storm is almost past. I’ll be fine. Besides, something weird happened out there tonight. If you’re still awake when I get back, I’ll tell you about it.”

The moon, pale and obscured by dark thunderheads, was the only light shining onto her second-story veranda. Reya unlaced her boots, toed them off and set them beside the screen door that led down the back stairs. Dr. Matons continued to puff on his pipe while she peeled off her tank top and blood-spattered pants, tossed them in a pile and loosely tied a small bundle around her neck.

“Be careful, my dear. Wake me when you return,” Dr. Matons called quietly. Extinguishing his pipe, he rose and slipped through the sliding glass door and into her living room. Reya watched his retreating back until the subtle snap of the office door told her she was alone. Shirt, pants and shoes in a neat pile on the floor, she dropped to her knees. Muscles rippled and bunched as raw power surged through her limbs—heady, thunderous power as her body shortened then stretched. Her tall frame shuddered as thick fur burst through her pores, replacing smooth skin. The cooling breeze ruffled the sleek fur on the tufts of the ears of a black jaguar as she stalked down the stairs and loped into the surrounding jungle.