Covers, Excerpts, Trailer
After the Crash Book Five
In a post-apocalyptic world where women are rare and valuable, Ellie Overdahl is a widow far from home at the mercy of strangers. Sold to be a prize in a Bride Fight, she manages to send word to her cousin, begging for rescue.For six years, Quill Wolfe has mourned the loss of the woman his wolf chose to be his mate. When word comes that Ellie is widowed and about to be forced into an unwanted marriage, he races to enter the Bride Fight.
He has waited long enough to claim his mate, and no fighter is good enough to keep him from her.
But claiming Ellie is only the beginning. It’s not only the journey home that is dangerous and uncertain.
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Content/Theme(s): Shifters, Wolves, Post-Apocalyptic
Release Date: August 26, 2013
Publisher: Liquid Silver Books
Books 1-4, Excerpts, Trailer & More
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Ellie woke in the cool, damp dark, seeing a faint glow in the distance that signaled dawn was not far off. They had travelled for a few hours last night before making camp. There wasn’t enough room in the tent for all three women and the two boys, and since Connor refused to be separated from her, she had curled up outside with the boys. She’d slept for only a few hours after a grueling day, but she felt good. Connor was a warm ball resting in the curve of her body. Tommy was a sprawled weight against her back. She pressed a sleepy kiss to Connor’s hair. Her relief that he was there with her was almost ferocious. It had been only ten hours since she’d been reunited with her son. It would take much longer than that for her to relax.
A shadow moved only five feet from her. Her quick spurt of alarm was soothed by the familiar wavy outline of hair pulled back from a tall forehead to spill in curls to broad shoulders.
“Quill?” she whispered after waiting a minute for him to speak or move. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m just watching my family sleep.”
His family. The note of possession in his voice started a tremble in Ellie’s fingers as she stroked Connor’s hair. It sounded good. Family was safety and love. It had been three years since she’d felt part of a family. Or maybe longer.
“Does that bother you?” he asked. “That I think of you and Connor and Tommy as my family?”
Words stuck in her throat. Connor was Neal’s son. “No.” She swallowed, wondering if that was a lie. No, it wasn’t. Neal was dead. Murdered. Pain pierced her heart, but she forced it back. “I want to be part of a family. I want to be safe.”
Quill eased closer to her. “Are you cold? You’re shaking. Are you crying?”
The worry in his voice touched Ellie. He might be almost a stranger, but he seemed to truly care about her. She found herself lifted away from the boys and cradled on Quill’s lap. A quick glance at the boys and she saw that they were tucked under the blanket, rolling toward each other like puppies snuggling close in their sleep. After a hesitation she obeyed the gentle pressure of Quill’s hand to lay her head on his shoulder. Even sitting in his lap, she was shorter than he.
“What’s wrong, Ellie? Is it Moore?” She felt his throat work as he swallowed. “Is it me?”
“No.” She struggled with words. Quill hadn’t done anything wrong. “I’m lucky. I could be married to someone horrible right now, who wouldn’t want Connor, or Tommy. Thank you.”
“It’s not your gratitude I want.”
Ellie was acutely aware of Sara and Mel sleeping only a few yards away in the flimsy tent and a dozen men with extremely sharp ears in the area. She lowered her voice to an almost soundless whisper.
“But you have it anyway. Family is important to me. I want to be part of a strong family. I grew up in Odessa. You knew that, didn’t you? I didn’t have much family. My mother was from Kearney, but she died when I was only a little girl. I didn’t know any of her family because the people of Odessa avoided Kearney. They thought Kearney was sinful and worldly. My dad had just one sister.”
“Aunt Naomi.”
“Yes. Taye’s mother. You probably know more about that than I do. I was always told that she’d been stolen by demon-possessed monsters. When I was sixteen, my dad died. The elders were going to marry me to one of them, and I…” She paused to swallow horror at the memory. “I couldn’t do it. I hated the way women in Odessa had to keep their eyes down and their mouths shut. I was always in trouble. Their theology was so rigid I thought they’d snap in half if they had any fun. I believe in God,” she hurried to clarify, “but I don’t think He made women to be only child-bearers and housekeepers. Why did He give us minds if we we’re only a half-step above the cows?”
His arms closed tighter around Ellie. He muttered something in Lakota and then cleared his throat. “Hundreds of years ago the Europeans thought that the Lakota treated their women like beasts of burden, but they didn’t understand that we revere women. We know that women have their own power that no man can match.”
Ellie had seen for herself how Taye’s Pack treated the women who lived with them. They were respectful, playful, and utterly protective. Taye had done his best to convince Neal to not move to Moore’s Mill. When Neal refused to listen, Taye had tried to convince him to leave Ellie behind, at least until the baby was born. She had feared Taye would lock her up in his den and refuse to let Neal take her away. She peeped up at Quill, wondering if he was as stubborn as Taye.
“Anyway, I ran away from Odessa before they could force me to marry. I wanted to go to Taye because I’d always been fascinated by the thought of a cousin who could turn into a wolf. I thought he’d protect me from Elder Pringle, but I didn’t know where he was. I went to Kearney to find my mother’s family. It wasn’t a long walk, but I’d never been so far from Odessa.”
Quill’s voice was a growl. “You ran away? You walked to Kearney without any protection? Do you know what could have happened to you?”
“Of course I do. Now. I was young enough then to think that nothing could possibly go wrong. Luckily it didn’t. Just outside Kearney I was found by Dane Overdahl and his brother, Neal, and they brought me to my grandfather in Kearney. My mother’s father. You knew him. He was the historian and librarian in Kearney for decades.”
“Yes, I knew Mr. Gray. So that’s how you met your husband.” Quill’s voice was utterly devoid of any emotion. The sun was just about to rise, and it was light enough for her to see his carefully blank face.
“Yes. I think I fell in love with him right then, and he said he loved me right away too, but Grandpa Gray didn’t allow us to marry until I was eighteen. Does it bother you when I talk about Neal?”
Quill dipped his head, and she felt his lips brush her forehead. “Maybe a tiny bit, but I’m happy you had someone to love you.”
Ellie squashed a pang of regret for hurting him. “I loved Neal. I don’t know you very well yet, but I’m sure I’ll develop strong feelings for you too, in time. I like you already.” Did her tone sound just a little too forced? She cleared her throat. “When Neal decided to move us down here, I was scared. I was five months along with Connor, and we didn’t know anyone. I was alone. Mrs. Moore and her sister were my midwives. It was scary, but wonderful, to have a child. Scary because we had no family nearby. No one to take care of me and Connor if something happened to Neal. That’s what I was talking about when we started this conversation. I think, with you, I’ll be part of a family again.”
“I will always protect you.” The sun had peeked over the horizon and shot rosy golden rays to gleam in Quill’s tawny curls. He ducked his head to look deeply into her eyes. “The entire Clan is your family now, and they will protect you and Connor and Tommy.”
His words made her dream come true. Greatly daring, she put a hand on the back of his neck to pull him down to her lips. His eyes widened. She felt his heart thundering against her breast. She closed her eyes and kissed him. She had meant to give him a quick peck of gratitude, but when he sighed against her lips, she couldn’t help but open her mouth to catch his breath. She forgot her teeth needed brushing and her hair was a tangled mess and her clothes were crumpled and dew damp. He smelled so good, and his body was so warm against her she forgot everything but the taste of his mouth when she slid her tongue over his.
~~~~~~
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by Maddy Barone
After the Crash Book Four
Lisa Anton was a world-famous fashion model before her plane crashed in a post-apocalyptic future where women are precious and rare, and technology is only a memory. Offered as a prize in a Bride Fight for the best fighter to take home, Lisa becomes the wife of a man she barely knows. Gorgeous and passionate in bed, her new husband tells her he loves her. But does he?
From the moment he saw the blonde beauty, Eddie Madison was determined to make her his wife. Beating a dozen other men in the Bride Fight was child’s play for him. Learning to be a husband is a bit trickier. She wants his complete trust, but Eddie has spent his entire life guarding a secret that could destroy their happiness. Is protecting his secret more important than winning his bride’s love?
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The cool expression Lisa put on froze on her face. It felt as if it might crack and fall off. She’d tried to keep her eyes on the square below her, but couldn’t bear to watch Eddie fight. His opponent was a few inches taller, probably around six-two or six-three, with short, receding dark hair and thick muscles a layer of fat couldn’t hide. He looked bigger and stronger than Eddie.
What would she do if Eddie lost? Only the winner would go on to fight again, until one man was left, and that would be her new husband. All her fingernails were broken, which distressed her yesterday. Now she was glad. They weren’t long enough to cut into her palms when she clenched her fists. Every time Lisa heard one of the men land a punch, her hands clenched tighter. The crowd of men was either dead silent or cheering madly after the meaty thud of flesh against flesh signaled a successful strike, probably watching as avidly as the Romans had the games in the Coliseum, and with as much blood-lust.
An extra loud roar dragged Lisa’s eyes back to the square. Eddie stood, his chest showing fist-sized red marks that would become bruises, and the tall dark-haired guy was face down on the floor, shaking his head and trying to get to his knees. Ray’s voice shouted Eddie Madison was the winner of the first bout. The tension in Lisa came out as a choked laugh. Eddie flipped a quick smile up at her before giving his opponent a hand up.
Oh, God. That was only the first fight of the first round.
Lisa never knew how she survived the next hours. The theater had started out cold, but the press of bodies, sweating fighters and testosterone heated the place up as well as a furnace. The heat came with the nauseating odor of sweat and blood. The tears were hers. She tried to control herself, but every time Eddie was kicked, punched or bitten, she flinched. The fact he delivered more punches and kicks than he received was scant comfort. She hated to see men brutally beating each other, bleeding and sweating and tearing into each other like savages. Watching Eddie bleed for her hurt.
Her last boyfriend, Brent, had been a big boxing fan. He dragged her to several boxing matches. She hadn’t been able to stand that, either, and those fights were polite games compared to this. She told Brent she didn’t like it, but he laughed and took it for granted she would come anyway. And she had. She was never able to tell the men in her life no. She could stand up for herself as a model, especially with her agent’s backing, but her personal life was a wreck. It took a lot for her to finally dump a guy. Just a month ago, she kicked Brent out and promised herself to not get involved with a man for at least a year.
Look at her now—a prize for the most brutal fighter to take home.
The fights passed in a blur of barely suppressed tears and clenched fists for Lisa. Eddie kept winning. She looked over at Carla frequently, but the other woman seemed to be interested in anything and everything except the fights below them. Lisa could barely stand to watch, but when it came down to only two men left to fight to win her, Lisa set her teeth hard together and forced her eyes to focus on Eddie.
Eddie’s hair hung in sweat dampened ringlets, and his torso was blotched with vivid bruises. His handsome face was blessedly free of the blood that smeared his opponent’s. The other man was probably ten years older than Eddie, with dark curls cut very short and a thick muscular body covered with a dense mat of body hair.
Eddie had to be exhausted, but he still moved with the smooth grace that made him appear to flow without effort. Every now and then he crouched, quivering, before he sprung on his opponent. The other man didn’t have a chance.
Lisa wasn’t sure how it happened, but in a minute Eddie’s opponent was down and Ray shouted that Eddie had won her. Her mask cracked under the onslaught of tears as she gasped, “Thank God!”
Her guards bunched around her to take her out of her balcony to the theater floor where Eddie waited for her. He was sweaty and bruised and beautiful. Even with his hair clinging wetly to his neck and his lower lip puffy, he was beautiful. His grin was white and triumphant as he swept her into his arms and backed her into the narrow stairwell to the balconies, crushing her between his sweat covered chest and the wall. The noise of the crowd was muted.
“Oh, God, Eddie,” she gasped into his ear. “I was so scared.”
His split knuckles left smears of blood in her hair when he pushed it back to kiss her. He let a small hiss out as his lips touched hers. She flinched at the sound.
“Are you all right?” Her eyes clung to the purpling bruise on his cheek and swollen crack at the corner of his mouth. “You look like it hurts.”
“I’d like to say it looks worse than it feels, but I’m not sure about that.” His cocky grin was interrupted by a wince as the crack at the corner of his mouth opened and a thread of blood ran toward his jaw. “But it was worth it. I won you. You’re my wife now.” One of his hands clenched hard on her shoulder, the other framed her face with utmost gentleness. "This is the happiest day of my life."
~~~~~~
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by Maddy Barone
After the Crash Book Three
Strong, independent Tami was a survivalist and mountain guide in 2014 when she was flung forward fifty years into a post-apocalyptic future where women are worth their weight in gold. She is taken by four men to be their wife, but when she escapes from them they hire the Tracker, a deadly loner from the Clan with a reputation for being able to track anything, to bring her back. But Tami knows how to ride and how to hide, and she leads him on a chase that rouses his admiration. Behind Tracker’s stone-cold face is a man who yearns for a wife of his own. When he catches up with Tami and learns that she is not a willing wife, he knows he can’t give her up.
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“Ma’am?”
Tami woke with a silent gasp. The quiet murmur came out of the cold dark like a lover’s whisper. She carefully dipped her face to her chest, so any steam from her breath wouldn’t rise to give her away, and froze. She could just barely hear footsteps moving in the rain-slick grass. Toward her?
“Ma’am? Don’t be scared. I don’t want to hurt you. Your husband hired me to find you and bring you back.”
Dammit, the assholes had sent him. She couldn’t give herself up to him. No way in hell was she going back, not even to Tim, the nicest of them. She might freeze to death, or starve to death, but she wasn’t going back to Greasy Butte. Her hand settled over the sharp rock she had found for a weapon. If he got too close to her she would strike.
“Mrs. Leach?” The voice was a few steps nearer. “Come on out. If you’re hungry, I got food.”
Tami hoped her stomach wouldn’t growl. Did he know where she was? The clouds had broken up and the sky was damp black velvet glittering with stars, but she was tucked away in an excellent hidey hole. Freedom was right behind her. The rain should have washed away any tracks.
“Please, Mrs. Leach.” The voice was further away now and Tami relaxed ever so slightly. He must not know exactly where she was. “I’m fixing to build us a fire and put coffee on to boil. You’d best come on out and get warmed up.”
A fire and hot coffee was tempting, almost tempting enough to put herself within his reach. But he would take her back to those men and probably rape her first. She listened to the sounds of a horse being unsaddled and a fire being started. It was sheer torture to sit still when she knew warmth and food were only twenty yards away. But she did it.
As he worked his voice continued to speak quietly. “I bet you’re cold,” he said conversationally. “Soaked through, what with that rain this afternoon. And now that it’s clearing off it’s dam-- darned cold. The fire’s caught, and it feels fine.”
Tami found herself liking his voice. It was quiet and smooth, with an old-fashioned western drawl. His words reminded her of Dad Culpeper, an old cowboy who had worked for her uncles. He had always just caught himself in the middle of a swear word and choked it back because, he said, he didn’t cuss in front of girls. Just like Blondie. She waited to hear him say more, but he was quiet for quite a while. Starting a fire in this wet couldn’t be easy, but he had clearly managed it because the aroma of coffee came to her. And then the sizzle of meat juices dripping into the flames. A hunger pang twisted her belly viciously.
“I found the carcass of the bird you took last night,” he said in that quiet murmur of his. “Stripped clean. I reckon you must be hungry again. I got rabbit here, plenty for both of us.”
He had found time to hunt even while chasing her in the rain? She’d like to slap him silly. Of course, she had no gun, not even a knife. She had to rely on a couple yards of rope as a snare. Catching food that way took time she didn’t have while on the run. How was she going to get away from him this time? He knew she was somewhere near, if not her exact location. Could she sneak past him after he fell asleep? Or could she leap up onto Freedom and thunder away while he had to take time to saddle his horse? No, the rain had slicked up the ground too much for that to be safe. She wanted to escape, not kill herself. If she wanted to commit suicide she could have done that back in her prison.
Somehow his gentle voice coming out of the cold dark soothed her. It had an attractive, mesmerizing quality to it. Or maybe she was going into shock? Cold and hungry as she was, she found herself nodding off from time to time. That probably wasn’t safe, and she didn’t care anymore. He had her trapped. She almost stood up and waved her arms to surrender. But that remaining sliver of pride kept her in her hiding place.
It was dawn when she woke, cold and cramped and almost dazed with it. The weak sun was partially blocked by a head leaning over her. A long blond braid fell to slap against her breast. Terror wrapped itself in a choke hold around her throat. Gripping her rock and smashing it into his face might not have been the nicest thing she’d ever done, but it was one of the quickest. Surprising, considering she felt like a block of ice. Or maybe she didn’t really move quickly, since he managed to duck at the last minute so the rock hit his forehead at the hairline instead of his nose. Blood fountained and he fell over with a grunt.
“Omigod!” she croaked, trying to scramble to her cold-deadened feet. She was so stiff she fell over him, hitting her knees painfully on the rocky ground and burying her nose in his leather shirt. She barely noticed the pain, or even the warmth of his body, rising up to stare with horror at his slack, blood-covered face. Had she killed him? No, he was breathing. Thank God.
It took only a couple minutes to haul Freedom out of his hiding place and tighten the girth. Tami saw that a cup leaking steaming coffee was lying beside Blondie, and on his other side was a thick piece of bread wrapped around a chunk of meat. She snatched it up and looked wildly around for other food she could grab. She stumbled to where his fire glowed in mere coals and grabbed a leather bag. She would have grabbed more, but he let out a groan, and she threw herself into the saddle and rode out with all the speed poor, tired Freedom could muster.
The sandwich was cold and had bits of grit stuck to it from falling on the ground, but it was tasty. At this point her saddle would have been tasty. She made herself take small bites and chew thoroughly. The food and the sun began to warm her, easing her convulsive shivers. Investigating the bag, she found a pair of hand-knit wool socks and a flannel shirt, which she joyfully put on regardless of their too-large size, but no more food. Dang it, she must have taken the wrong bag. She wanted more food!
She’d gone less than a mile when her conscience began to nag at her. She covered another mile arguing with it. Blondie was defenseless. He could die without help, said her good half. She should go back. But it was his own fault, the other side of her argued. If he hadn’t been chasing her, she wouldn’t have had to hurt him. She should keep going. Still, he hadn’t been trying to kill her, and he had a soft, gentle voice. And food. And hot coffee. He probably had more of those somewhere in his camp. She should turn around and at least check on him, just to make sure he was going to be okay. If he looked like he would be okay, she could leave before he was fully back on his feet.
And go where? Where was she going right now? She had no food, inadequate protection from the weather, no guaranteed safe home to return to. But there had to be somewhere that was safe. Maybe Blondie could tell her, while he made her another sandwich.
With a deep sigh, she turned around and headed back to the man she had left lying in his own blood.
~~~~~~
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by Maddy Barone
After the Crash Book Two
When goth-girl Glory Peterson’s plane crashes she walks to find help. What she finds are people living in teepees like it’s the Old West. Wolf’s Shadow knows Glory is his mate. Glory’s happy to take a roll in the hay with him while she’s waiting for transportation back to civilization, but when she finds out she’s gone fifty years into the future and Shadow is a bossy werewolf who thinks he owns her, her attitude changes fast. Shadow is used to giving orders that are obeyed. Glory hasn’t obeyed an order since kindergarten. When two strong-willed lovers clash, who will win.
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The grip on her wrist tightened to near pain. He dragged her three steps before she recovered enough to dig in her heels. “Shadow, if you don’t let me go right now I’m gonna kick you where the sun don’t shine. Let. Me. Go!”
He turned on her in a whirl of hair and clenched teeth. “Are you defying me, mate?”
“Why?” she snarled back. “Is that a crime?”
His answer to that was to pick her up and throw her over his shoulder. Rage stole her voice for more than a minute, enough time for them to get to Shadow’s tent. Her head scraped against the flap when he carried her through. The sun was just setting, and the rainy day made it dim inside the tent, but it was just bright enough for her to see that the blankets had been folded neatly on a narrow Lincoln log bed. Where had the bed come from? But she was too angry to care about that right now. As soon as he set her down she opened her mouth to shriek at him. As she took a deep breath to blast him she saw a shine in his eyes. Tears?
“Glory,” he rumbled thickly. “Don’t leave me. I can’t live without you.”
Her rage seeped away like air from a deflating balloon. “Shadow…”
“I forbid you to leave! You will stay with me, mate.”
Just like that that her balloon was inflated again. “Listen, jackass, I don’t take orders from you. You don’t own me, so back off.”
Few people were able to tower over her. She was taller than a lot of men. But Shadow towered now, using his height to try to back her off. She stubbornly planted her feet, tilted her chin back, and glared into his eyes. There was no sign of tears, only the eerie yellow glow of a wolf enraged. If she hadn’t been so angry she might have been uneasy. But under her anger seethed sexual arousal. It seemed that the angrier he was, the yummier he smelled. He was so big and handsome. Not many people could stand up to her when she was angry. She was angry now, but secretly enjoying it too. There was nothing like a good argument to clear the air. Now if only Shadow would behave, they could yell at each other for a while and then have some wild sex and both let off some steam before moving into a calm discussion.
“You are mine.” His voice had crawled down into a wolf’s growl. “My mate. You will obey me.”
Did the big Neanderthal have to be so sexy when he growled? She hated bossy guys, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to turn into a doormat just because he was built like one of her favorite wrestling stars, but damn, he was fine. Her eyes told her so, and the heat between her thighs agreed. She folded her arms under her bust, plumping her breasts. Her nipples were hard, pushing against the soft cotton of her T-shirt. She hoped he noticed. She inhaled deeply and arched her back to be sure he did. “Fat chance, big guy.”
His nostrils flared, and she wondered if he could smell her arousal. Yum. It looked like he was aroused too. She could tell for sure when he pulled her against him so tightly she could feel his erection pressing just a little too high on her body to make contact where she wanted him. “Mine.” His voice was so deep and rough that it didn’t even sound like him anymore. “Say it,” he demanded.
Glory raised on her toes to force that pressure against her clit. “Uh-uh. No way.”
“Mine!” he roared.
“Yeah, I heard you the first ten times you said that.” Glory couldn’t quite manage to sound bored. Her clit was pulsing in time with her heartbeat, and it was pretty fast. Fear? Excitement? The lyrics of her favorite Nine Inch Nails song floated in the back of her mind. It seemed like whenever they were together and her blood was pounding through her veins like this she thought about that song. She rubbed against him, wanting the friction of her jeans between his hard flesh and her need. “C’mon, big guy, what are you going to do about it?”
“Say it,” he demanded again.
“No. And you can’t make me.” She smirked and rubbed her clit harder against him. Taunting him like this was fun. “I’m a grown-up woman and I belong to me.”
“You belong to me.” His hand went to the top button on her jeans. “Say it.”
The twist of desire clenched harder between her thighs, wetting her panties. She licked her lips and unhooked the first few fasteners on her bustier teasingly. “Make me.”
Less than a second later her jeans were dragged down her legs and her panties were torn off. Her libido was dancing with hot elation, looking forward to his cock going deep. She found herself on the ground, her knees digging into the flattened grass, her weight braced on her hands, and Shadow was behind her, one arm clamped around her waist. His muscled thigh shoved her knees farther part, straining the denim still clinging to her legs. She felt the head of his penis plow through the crease between her legs, but she was so wet he slid past her opening and had to try again.
She screamed, her voice so thick with lust the words weren’t quite comprehensible, “Come on, fuck me like an animal!”
She arched her back to help, and he found what he was looking for. With one powerful thrust he seated himself deep inside her. His invasion stretched her wide, creating a burning pleasure that bordered on pain inside her. She shrieked. He pulled out and slammed back in. The only thing keeping her from being pushed away was the strength of the arm he had wrapped around her. He pulled out and hammered back in, growling, “Mine.” He said it again with every thrust, until it was a steady chant in her ear. She was vaguely aware of his free hand groping over the neck of her T-shirt, looking for a way under so he could touch her bare skin, but what had most of her interest was the feel of him pounding inside her, driving her to new heights of pleasure. The beat and lyrics of “Closer” swam through her mind. I wanna fuck you like an animal. And he was doing exactly that, holding her in a vulnerable position and driving into her so hard that the slap of their flesh coming together was loud enough to be heard over her panting groans. Who would have thought that his he-man tactics would get her so hot so fast? She had been expecting a rousing argument and then some hot makeup sex. But apparently Shadow wanted to have the sex first. She approved. Oh, yeah, she was on board with this. She was totally under his control. Why did that turn her on? She wanted to examine that foreign idea, but she exploded into orgasm, and she lost interest in everything else for a while. His continued thrusts kept the shimmering aftermath of her orgasm going until she was shaking from it, making small panting noises almost like sobs and hanging limp from his arm.
That arm, holding her in position for his wild thrusts, was the anchor that kept her from going face-first into the grass. A savage howl drowned out her moans, and her anchor loosened. Her arms and legs gave way, and she flopped down to the ground like an overused dishrag. Her mouth was planted in the trampled grass, desperately trying to drag air into her lungs. She barely had strength enough to turn her head to get her mouth clear of the suffocating grass. Damn. Her throat was a little sore. Had she been screaming? If she had, who could blame her? She thought last night’s orgasm had been mind-blowing. But compared to this? Not so much. This savage lovemaking was fantastic. But once in a while was enough. Her knees felt bruised, and her palms were sore from friction with the dried grass. But it was so worth it. Damn, he was good!
~~~~~~
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by Maddy Barone
After the Crash Book One
Rising country music star Carla boards a plane in the year 2014. But it crashes in the future, fifty years after Armageddon has destroyed technology and plagues have reduced the female population to a precious few. She finds herself offered as prize in a Bride Fight, where only the strongest and fiercest men are allowed to compete to win a wife. Alpha werewolf Taye knows Carla is his mate. He wins the Bride Fight and takes her to his den, ready to give her everything, even his heart. Will Carla ever be ready to give him anything.
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He was a werewolf who had killed a vicious opponent only a few days ago, but to her he was very sweet. And utterly gorgeous. She hurried to the bathroom and washed and brushed her teeth. She dithered over getting undressed and putting on Taye’s T-shirt, but in the end decided not to. Then she dithered over taking her braid out and leaving her hair down. And that was when Taye came in.
She turned to face him, clutching the comb like a weapon. He was magnificent in only a
pair of cut-off sweatpants that rode low on his hips. The muscles of his bare chest
gleamed in the lamplight. She was definitely overdressed.
“Now you’re frightened,” he said sadly.
“No, just a little nervous,” she insisted. “Do you want me to … uh, get undressed?”
“No, that comes later in the plan. Come here, sweetheart. Let me just hold you.”
She went to him and put her arms around his waist, still holding the comb. His bare
shoulder was warm against her cheek, and his scent aroused her. “Is this Step One?”
“Step One is to make sure you are not frightened.” He ran his hands up and down her
spine. “Step Two is to make sure you are relaxed.”
“Got any beer?” she asked, half joking.
“No, no beer. Here, sit down and give me the comb. I’ll comb your hair for you.”
Carla sat on the couch, half facing away from him behind her. She had never had
anyone comb her hair except the beautician. She gave him the comb and felt his fingers
loosening her braid. He was amazingly gentle when he separated the strands that had
knotted at the nape of her neck. After carefully working out the few tangles, the comb
slid through her hair in long lazy sweeps. It felt amazing.
“I’ve wanted to touch your hair like this since the night I saw you at Ray’s,” Taye
murmured.
“Well,” she sighed. “You can comb my hair anytime. That feels so nice.”
The comb continued to glide through her hair, followed by a caressing hand. His
fingers moved under her hair to smooth over her neck and shoulder under her blouse.
After a minute he swept her hair to one side to press a kiss to her nape. A row of
Feather-light kisses went from behind her ear, down the side of her neck, to her collarbone.
She turned on the seat so she could see him. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and she
lifted a hand to test the heat of his face. He caught it before she could touch him.
“It’s not time for that step yet.”
“What step?” Carla blinked.
“You don’t get to touch me until after I’ve satisfied you.” He lowered her hand to her
knee. “I’ve studied those romance books from the Times Before, and in every one of
them the lady was pleasured first. Then the man. Now hush so I can continue with my plan.” Carla had to work to suppress her chuckle. She found her hand moving subtly on her
knee, wishing it were his hand. “You know, Taye, those are only stories. In real life it
doesn’t work like that.”
“Hush,” he said sternly. “It’s my plan. Your job is to relax and enjoy.”
“Relax and enjoy. I can handle that. I think. What’s the next step?”
“Next—” His finger slipped inside her blouse and ran under the top edge of her bra
over one breast. “—I get to see what your panties look like when they are on you.”
Her hands went obediently to the top button on her blouse.
“No,” he growled. “I get to do that.”
He waited until she replaced her hands in her lap and then unbuttoned each button
with slow, deliberate fingers. Those fingers trembled ever so slightly when they brushed
the tops of her breasts above the pink satin bra while spreading her blouse wide. Carla
shuddered a little from the cool air and his eyes on her hot, exposed skin. “Are you
cold?” he whispered.
“With you looking at me like that? I wouldn’t be cold if we were sitting outside in
January.”
“I like looking at you. Are you as soft as you look?”
Carla had to force herself to not squirm. “I guess you’ll have to touch to find out.”
The feel of his fingers trailing down along the shoulder strap of her bra and curling
to brush his knuckles over the curve of her breast made excitement flood through her. He
brushed his knuckles back and forth over her puckered nipple until she was quivering.
“Taye, that’s my bra. You can’t tell if I’m soft by touching that.”
He hooked a thumb under the shoulder strap beside her armpit. “How does it come
off?”
“There’s a fastener right in the front.” Carla was surprised how hoarse her voice was.
“See that round button there? Just—”
Her bra opened, and Taye pulled the front edges apart, releasing her breasts. His eyes
seemed to hold awe as he studied her curves and nipples. He pulled the edge of her pink
bra back to one of her nipples. “It’s almost the same color,” he remarked, and she was
glad that his voice sounded a little hoarse too.
“I’m sort of small,” she apologized.
“Too thin,” he agreed, stroking both hands over her ribs and rubbing her breasts with
his thumbs. “No more missed lunches for you, sweetheart.”
“No, I mean … Never mind.”
She loved the feel of his face rubbing over her chest. He would drag one cheek over
her chest, then turn his head and drag the other over her, taking deep breaths all the while.
“You smell like love, sweetheart.”
He smelled fantastic too. His mouth opened and passed over her breast, and on the
return pass he paused to taste her nipple with just his tongue. She shook and that seemed
to encourage him to suck and nibble at her breast. She pressed her thighs together as heat
shot through her. His teeth scraped over her taut nipple, and she grabbed his shoulders to
keep from falling when a lightning bolt of sensation zinged through her.
He abandoned her breast to take her hands from his shoulders and put them back in
her lap. “It’s not time for that step yet, sweetheart.”
“Taye! I have to hold onto something or I’ll fall over!”
“Nope. Let me…” He slid her blouse and bra down her arms and tossed them aside
before lowering her so she was lying on the couch and he was kneeling on the floor
beside her. Then he went back to feasting on her breasts.
“Taye,” she complained breathlessly. “Can’t we move along a little? You’re
torturing me.”
“Step by step,” he murmured to her nipple.
His mouth on her skin was like being thrown into a volcano. Carla gasped and lifted
one knee to ease an ache that made her want to drag him down on top of her.
“Taye, lay on top of me.”
He was breathing fast against her neck. “No, we’re definitely not at that step yet.
We’re still in one of the foreplay steps.”
“One of the foreplay steps? Taye, please.”
“Uh-uh.”
~~~~~~
Sleeping with the Wolf Purchase links:
After the Crash series novellas by Maddy Barone:
After the Crash 3.25 | After the Crash 3.5 |
 |  |
| Connie Mondale, co-pilot of a plane that crashed in a future where women are rare, has no intention of being forced into marriage, thank you very much. A former fighter pilot, she’s accustomed to being in charge. But leading two dozen undisciplined women is harder than flying missions over Iraq and Afghanistan. Scarier, too, with woman-hungry men outnumbering them two hundred to one, and demanding marriage. When Des, the grim-faced werewolf who is always there for her, offers to share the load, how can she refuse? Des Wolfe knows Connie is his mate. When she refused him, he tried to settle for being her friend. But when an opportunity comes to have her for his own, he grabs it with both hands, determined to have her love. If that means taking on a whole house full of women and making them his Pack, he’ll do it. There is no price too high for Des to pay to have Connie for his mate. Can Connie give her heart to a werewolf, or will Des have to settle for only her body in his bed? Purchase at Amazon | When a plane crashes fifty years in the future, the survivors learn: 1. Nuclear war destroyed the world they knew. 2. Plague has reduced the female population to a pitiful few and every woman is worth her weight in gold. 3. Werewolves are more than mere legend and they want mates. Sherry Rowe is one of those survivors and Jumping Stag of the Lakota Wolf Clan is one of these wolves. When the scary wolf turns into a gorgeous naked man and claims her as his mate, Sherry refuses him. But the word No isn't in a wolf's vocabulary when he has found his mate. Stag has spent three months being patient and gentle while he tries to persuade Sherry to accept him. But his patience has limits and if gentle wooing doesn't work, Sherry will find out how far a wolf will go to claim his mate. Purchase at Amazon |
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Be on the lookout for Maddy Barone's upcoming release Wolf's Vengeance coming Summer/Fall 2014
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