Cover & Excerpt Reveal
GenTech Chronicles Book One
Skylar is the hunted. Fashioned for the sole purpose of destruction, she has spent her entire life running from the evil scientist who created her, her father.
When a team of retrieval experts hired by her father track her down, neither Skylar nor the team’s leader is prepared for the magnetic attraction that will not let them go.
In the midst of danger, with their lives on the line, they forge a bond so tight only death could break it. Together they will fight an egomaniacal scientist as well as their explosive desire for one another to discover what true power is.
Genre: Sci Fi RomanceHe was tall, a good foot taller than she was, with broad shoulders, lean hips, long, strong legs. His black hair was close-cropped, though not shorn to the scalp. His skin was tan, as if he spent a lot of time outdoors, and his eyes—good Lord, his eyes could make a saint weep. They were a bright and clear blue that called to the wildness within her. She could make out the hint of a tattoo that ran the length and width of his enormous biceps, but she couldn’t decipher what it was. She’d like the opportunity to further examine it with more than just her eyes. Maybe another day.
Release Date: January 28, 2013
Publisher: Liquid Silver Books
Then she could concentrate on nothing but his scent as he moved quicker than she was prepared for. He turned her, bringing her back flush with his front. He wrapped his arms around her, catching her wrists in his giant hands.
“Wha—” she stammered as she futilely tried to wrest her arms from his iron grip.
It didn’t hurt. Oh, no, nothing that easy. His touch overwhelmed her. It caused her brain to short circuit for a few seconds—long enough for him to slap flex-cuffs on her. His face brushed against her hair.
“Don’t make threats you don’t have the ability to see through,” he warned against her ear, easily overcoming her efforts to break his grip.
“Please, whoever, you are, don’t do this,” she half warned, half pleaded with him.
“Why? Am I hurting you?”
His body stilled behind her, his voice at her ear sending seismic tremors through her body. Tendrils of her hair caught on the whiskers of his face as he leaned even closer.
Yeah, not hurting. Completely the opposite of pain. Is he sniffing me?
“Who sent you?” She tried hard to ignore the way his heat enveloped her. She also tried to ignore that his hands moving over her arms had become more caressing than restrictive.
He didn’t answer her.
“I’m going to give you one more opportunity to answer my questions,” she told him breathlessly. “And quit sniffing me for cripe’s sake!”
It made her wet, that taunt.
She was rendered mute when the tip of his tongue flicked her earlobe, and he blew on it. His breath wafted across her nostrils, and her body tightened in the most intense need she’d ever experienced. She was a sexual novice. There was no way to sugarcoat twenty-six years of virginity. But right now she wanted to turn around in this man’s arms, climb up his body, and seat herself on the ridge of flesh she felt prodding at her backside. The shock of how right that hardened flesh felt seated against her, even while they were clothed, eclipsed sanity. Before she could stop herself she’d turned and pressed flat against his body.
Sebastian was not the neophyte she was, not by a long shot she was willing to bet. But the intensity of this desire with her was a new thing for him. The fire snapping in his eyes told the truth of it.
“What are you going to do now?”
His voice was low. It moved her, rearranged her heart somewhere in the vicinity of her stomach. I have no idea. Rational, sane thought wasn’t on her agenda. Nope it was more of a feel-feel situation right now.
“Um, just a quick taste or sniff or whatever, just bend down please.” She urged as she pulled her arms free of his hold, adjusted them around his neck, and pulled herself even with his face.
He grabbed her hips, helped her lever herself up. His face seemed cut from granite.
“This shit is crazy,” he murmured.
She let reason fly out the window and buried her face in the strong column of his neck.
“Mmmm,” was all she could mumble as the kaleidoscope of his essence speared her midsection. He smelled even better than he looked.
Her mind was throwing back-the-F-up signals left and right, but her body had melted against his. She inhaled his scent once more as she lifted her face and encountered his diamond-hard stare.
He descended lightning fast and took her mouth voraciously. Teeth gnashed, and tongues dueled. He was a freaking master kisser. His tongue curled around hers and delved into the recesses of her mouth, drawing hers in a dance that sent pleasure spiraling through her. He tasted of the darkest chocolate, bittersweet and tempting.
He lifted her, pressed her more firmly against his impressive erection. Her breasts tingled, and her core clenched. Her legs tightened reflexively and squeezed his hips. He continued to knead her bottom, alternately patting then pressing her against him as he pushed against her mound.
“Shit, you’re wildfire, lady,” he ground out between kisses.
Kisses, plural, because one hadn’t been enough, and it had gone way past a simple kiss anyway. His words brought her out of her lust-induced stupor, and her brain finally kicked in with some reality.
“Oh my God.” She let her head hang forward.
He didn’t let her down. Her head rested on his massive chest. What they’d done together, the heat they’d generated in such a short time began to ramp up her anxiety. She unhooked her legs from around his waist and dropped to the ground. He refused to let her go, though, and she stood there, head hanging down, afraid to meet his eyes, lungs billowing like a horse after running the Kentucky Derby.
“You don’t even know my name, do you?”
“I know all of my objectives names. Yours is Skylar McKannon.”
His voice wasn’t the husky lover-like voice from seconds ago; it was the I’m-all-about-business-soldier voice from earlier. He didn’t sound remotely affected by what just transpired between them.
She got her shit together. She lifted her cuffed hands from around his neck and pushed away from him, anger replacing the consuming passion from moments ago.
She took a deep breath, steeled her spine. “You need to leave.”
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Be on the lookout for Lea Griffith's next book, Fistful of Roses, coming late Spring 2013
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