Under magical house arrest in her great-grandmother’s suburban cottage, college graduate and reluctant earth mage Shelley Dupree whiles away most mornings spying on the warlock next door. Though erotic daydreams offer some distraction, she faces long working hours, cash flow problems, and a repeat burglar. On Valentine’s Day, she sets a trap for the mysterious intruder, intent on ending his crime streak once and for all. But her scheming cat familiar foils her best-laid plans, and, with a little help from Madame Eve’s 1-Night Stand service, she discovers a far more dangerous species of magical feline.
After moving in next to a ramshackle building on the outskirts of Washington, D.C., pastry chef Adrien Chatdurois is plagued by repeat sexual fantasies starring the same curvy brunette. In a state of constant arousal, he devotes his early mornings to grueling exercise and spends the rest of his day handcrafting the city’s best chocolates. When his younger brother stirs up trouble on the shop’s busiest day, the frustrated shifter is forced to pay a surprise visit on his reclusive neighbor. He soon learns not all witches are wart-covered hags, and one in particular might prove the most delicious of desserts.
Excerpt from Feline Valentine:
Adrien finished slotting the tray of chocolate-dipped strawberries into the case’s most prominent spot. In honor of Valentine’s Day, he’d drawn a Cupid’s bow on each fruit using melted white chocolate. Beaming a proud smile at the appetizing array, he made a mental note to drop off any remainders on his next-door neighbor’s porch after closing time.
With the notion came a sudden compulsion to also send a bottle of bubbly. Rolling his shoulders to relieve the tension in his fatigued muscles, he tentatively added champagne to the shopping list. If today’s profits met expectations, he should be able to gift the old lady some booze.
Less than a second later, an image of a bottle of peach Schnapps flashed over his vision. Stepping to his left, he took off the wool hat and placed it next to the cash register. Why was his brain fixating on ingredients for a Bellini? He didn’t even like cocktails.
White heat flashed over his vision. He found himself on his knees, crouched over a soft feminine body. Fizzy, bubbly liquid slicked skin the color of caramel. When her back arched, the drink sluiced over a set of tensed, quivering abs to soak her lacy pink waistband. He dipped his head, his tongue trailing over the potent mixture of peach, alcohol, and woman. He dug his fingers into her lush hips, tilting her in the opposite direction so the remaining liquid trickled over her ribs to catch along the underwire of her bra. Capitalizing on the excuse to taste, he—
Fingers snapped repeatedly in front of his face. “Oy. Where the hell did you go?”
With a sigh, he directed his gaze at his sibling. “Bass, what the hell do you want?” Their two-year age gap allowed for a healthy dose of fraternal bonding, but a lifetime as the man’s big brother had also built up baseline cynicism. Sebastien’s unannounced visits tended to have odd and oftentimes very expensive consequences.
Globetrotter, lover of languages, and romance author, Tara Quan has an addiction for crafting tales with a pinch of spice and a smidgen of kink. Inspired by her travels, Tara enjoys tossing her kick-ass heroines and alpha males into exotic contemporary locales, paranormal worlds, and post-apocalyptic futures. Armed with magical powers or conventional weapons, her characters are guaranteed a suspenseful and sensual ride, as well as their own happily ever after.