Author: J.K. Hogan
Genre: Paranormal Romance
In hiding from her abusive ex-husband, musician Fate Callahan lives in New Orleans with her seven-year-old daughter. She remains in constant fear of being found, and her worst nightmare comes alive when a dark, dangerous stranger tells her he’s been hired to locate and kill her—but wants to save her instead.
Fate and Matthieu find themselves on the run together, fleeing from the hitmen and an unseen evil worse than anything else they’ll face. While just trying to stay alive, they become entangled in the battle between the Vigilati and the Lochrim; an archaic sect of witches and the evil creatures they are bred to fight. Unbeknownst to Fate and Matthieu, they are more deeply connected to the Vigilati than either of them could ever imagine.
They must join family and allies of the Vigilati to help save the human world, possibly saving each other along the way. Matthieu teaches Fate how to trust in love again, while she gives him back the one thing he never thought he deserved—family.
Moving with unconscious reverence, Fate placed her hands on Matthieu’s chest, to where she could feel his heart racing beneath her fingers. It eased her mind to know that he wasn’t unaffected.
Now that she had him at her mercy, she wasn’t exactly sure what she wanted to do. Deciding to go with her initial impulse, she smoothed her hands over the taught skin, marveling at the gentle expansion and contraction of his powerful ribcage.
She sneaked a peek at him from beneath her lashes and saw that his head was slightly raised, and his eyes were following every move of her hands. His lips had parted, allowing heavy breaths to rush through.
Growing bolder, she swept her hands over his shoulders and down his biceps, eliciting a contented sigh from him. Fate found herself barely able to suppress a satisfied smirk. Matthieu liked her hands on him.
During her gentle mapping of the hard planes and smooth lines of his chest, her fingers trailed across a nipple. He expelled a ragged breath and his head fell back onto the pillow. I did that, she thought, marveling at his responsiveness. That was certainly something she hadn’t experienced before. It was like a drug, and she wanted more.
Her own body was suffused with a feverish warmth as she felt him respond to her, and for a moment, she was ashamed. She wasn’t sure of where to go, what to do. How could she possibly consider taking advantage of someone who was restrained? And how could she want to, so badly?
Her indecision must have shown on her face because when she looked back at him, his expression held a Mona Lisa smile’s worth of secrets and promises. He looked at his bound wrists one more time, and then back at her, raising his brows toward his hairline.
“You’re in control, Fate. No one’s going to take that from you. It’s your move—you could walk out of here and leave me tied up for a week...or you could do...whatever...”
Giving her a cheeky grin, which was just one more expression that she wished he’d wear more often, he relaxed his posture, laying himself out for her as best he could with the bindings. Just to emphasize his point, he gently raised his hips just enough so that she could feel his arousal. “I’m not afraid.”
That really made all the difference, didn’t it? It was exactly the right thing for him to have said, and it made up her mind for her. He knew what was happening, and he wanted it as much as she did. He wasn’t being taken advantage of—any more than he wanted to be.
Decision made, she swung her leg off of him and knelt beside him on the bed, looking her fill. He was a maze of long, ropy muscles that, for once, weren’t stiff with the tension that was his constant companion. With the sheet leaving just the slightest bit to the imagination, he was stretched out before her like an offering to some merciful higher power.
Leaning over him, she stroked a hand down his hip where it was exposed by the sheet, and she was rewarded with a ripple of his stomach muscles. This time, she savored her arousal—it wasn’t a luxury she’d had in previous encounters. Holding a man such as Matthieu captive with only a touch—and some rope—made her feel powerful in a way she never had before.
Feeling braver, she continued her slow assault by running her hands down the cords of tendons and sinew in his strong thighs and calves, enjoying the brush of coarse hair against her palms. Fascinated, she mapped his body with her hands, sliding them over his ankles and feet.
Her lips curved in a slow smile when she caught sight of his hands gripping and releasing the pillows. As she traveled back up his legs, her hands skirting along both sides of the sheet that barely covered him, he took a deep breath and held it. She could practically hear the gears spinning in his mind, wondering what her next move would be. Would she or wouldn’t she?
She allowed her knuckles to brush just the lightest touch along the side of his erection, and his entire body went taut. He let go the breath he’d been holding on a curse, and then he was exhaling in gasps.
Panicked, her eyes flicked to his face, wondering if she’d hurt him somehow. “I’m sorry! Should I stop?”
When he met her eyes, his pupils were so blown his eyes were almost black, and his expression was tight. “God…don’t ever…stop,” he stuttered.
So the panting is a good thing. She smiled to herself. Good to know. Following impulse, Fate crawled up his body until her face was poised just above his. She smiled with satisfaction when his eyes immediately dropped to her lips.
She moved closer until their mouths were just a hair’s breadth apart, their breath mingling, but stayed just out of reach. “You can’t push me away this time,” she said.
Riveted and speechless, Matthieu just shook his head. “Don’t want to,” he managed.
Fate pulled her lower lip between her teeth and raised a brow at him. “What about distractions?”
He seemed confused at first, until he remembered how their first kiss had ended. His chest rose in a deep, shuddering breath. “Fucking distract me. Please.”
J.K. Hogan has been telling stories for as long as she can remember, beginning with writing cast lists and storylines for her toys growing up. When she finally
kinds of music and often creates a “soundtrack” for her stories as she writes them. J.K. is hoping to one day have a little something for everyone, so she’s branched out from m/f paranormal romance and added m/m contemporary romance. Who knows what’s next?
J.K. resides in North Carolina, where she was born and raised. A true southern girl at heart, she lives in the country with her husband and young son, a cat, and two champion agility dogs. If she isn’t on the agility field, J.K. can often be found chasing waterfalls in the mountains with her husband, or down in front at a blues concert. In addition to writing, she enjoys training and competing in dog sports, spending time with her large southern family, camping, boating and, of course, reading!