Quinn's Quest: Legacy, Book 4 (25 page)

“I’ll find you, Chrissten,” he vowed.

About the Author

N.J. Walters has always been a voracious reader of romance novels and decided one day that she could write one as well. The contemporary story, Discovering Dani, was the very first novel she wrote while living in a little town much like the one Dani O’Rourke lives in, though all other similarities to Dani’s life pretty much end there. Then she wrote another one that followed up on Dani’s friends and neighbors. But she didn’t consider herself a “real” writer yet.

Just a few years later N. J. had a mid-life crisis at a fairly young age, gave notice after ten years at her job on a Friday and received a tentative acceptance for her first published novel (an erotic romance) from a publisher on the following Sunday.

Happily married to the love of her life, with his encouragement and support she gave up the job of selling books for the more pleasurable job of writing them. She now spends her days writing novels of her own. Werewolves, vampires, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks—all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to do it. And some days she actually feels like a “real” writer.

N.J. enjoys hearing from readers, and she can be reached at
[email protected]
. You can check out her web site at
www.njwalters.com
.

Look for these titles by N.J. Walters

Now Available:

Jamesville

Discovering Dani

The Way Home

The Return of Patrick O’Rourke

The Seduction of Shamus O’Rourke

A Legal Affair

By the Book

Past Promises

Legacy

Alexandra’s Legacy

Isaiah’s Haven

Legacy Found

Spells, Secrets and Seduction

A Touch of Magic

Dreams of Seduction

Love in Flames

Coming Soon:

Finding Chrissten

She outran her memories. She couldn’t outrun her past.

Legacy Found

© 2011 N.J. Walters

Legacy, Book 3

Shelley is a killer. Never mind that her “crime” freed her from thirty-five years of brutal captivity—the bounty hunters on her trail don’t care. For the first time in her life, she is on her own, free to put the past behind her and explore what it means to be a werewolf.

James Riley is dead tired. After a week untangling legal and financial affairs his brother’s death left behind, he’s feeling every ounce of his new responsibility as Wolf Creek pack alpha. He’s not too tired though, to notice his sexy waitress is a werewolf—one that strangely doesn’t recognize him as one of her own kind.

After his questions rattle her composure and get her fired, Shelley figures the least James can do is drive her to the next town, but he wants more. He wants to take her home. And despite her fear, something inside her is irresistibly drawn to his commanding yet gentle presence.

James is willing to give Shelley all the time she needs to embrace her heritage, her sexuality, and eventually his love. But her past will not be denied…and her secrets demand a price paid in blood.

Warning: This book contains a hunky werewolf, a woman with a secret past, a lost family found, nasty bounty hunters, and lots of steamy hot sex!

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Legacy Found:

He paused in the open doorway and removed his sunglasses, tucking them in his shirt pocket as he looked around. The place was crowded, mostly with men, but there were a few women as well. Almost all the tables were filled. The sound of chatter was punctuated with the noise of utensils clanking as they all ate. The coffeepot hissed and the grill sizzled in the kitchen.

Something else permeated the air, but James couldn’t quite place it. Grease, sweat and food all mixed together to dull his preternatural sense of smell. Shrugging it off, he stepped inside and let the door swing shut behind him.

Several men glanced up from their meals and stared, but most ignored him, too intent on finishing their food and getting back on the road. To a trucker, time was money.

James scanned the room and sauntered over to a vacant booth in the far corner. He slid onto the vinyl bench seat and leaned back, trying to fit his large body comfortably into the space.

From his position, he had an unobstructed view of the room and the front door. There was also a window right beside him, which would allow for a quick escape if necessary.

The diner was surprisingly clean but dull. The paint on the walls was chipped, the linoleum on the floor scarred. And the seat cushions had seen better days. But the table gleamed and the condiment bottles were full. He plucked the menu from behind the shiny napkin dispenser and scanned it.

At the far end of the room, which James assumed led to the kitchen, a swinging door popped open. A woman backed into the room carrying a tray laden with plates. She looked like any waitress anywhere—harried and overworked. He went back to studying the menu, but his gaze was drawn again and again to the woman.

Giving up on the menu, he tossed it down on the table and studied her. She appeared to be in her early thirties, but it was hard to tell. She had the look of someone who’d had a hard life. Her hair had been pulled back into a tight bun, giving her face a pinched appearance.

As he watched, she competently served up the food from her tray, distributing plates to various tables, while nimbly sidestepping the roving hands of one of the truckers. His eyes narrowed as a burly driver patted her butt as she passed by. She jerked, but didn’t stop. Head ducked down, she kept going.

Anger began to burn low in his gut. It was none of his business, he told himself. He couldn’t afford to get involved. Not with paranormal bounty hunters searching for him and his daughter. The last thing he wanted to do was bring attention to himself and, through him, to his pack.

Still, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

She was dressed in a tacky pink polyester uniform that hung on her slender frame. It was hard to tell her shape. It was mostly hidden by the bulky dress, which was zipped up tight to her neck and fell all the way to her knees. Her legs were bare from her knees to her ankles and she wore white socks inside her battered canvas sneakers.

The woman was continually in motion, pouring coffee and serving food. Even though she worked without stopping, there was almost a fragile air about her, as if she’d been ill recently.

He wasn’t sure she’d even seen him, but as soon as her tray was empty, she tucked it under her arm and hurried over to his table. “What can I get you?” She pulled an order pad and pen out of her pocket.

James froze in place. All his senses went on full alert. Her scent was ever so faint, almost as if she were masking it somehow. But it was there. “You’re a werewolf,” he whispered. He was so shocked he spoke before he could check his words.

The woman paled and swayed. His hand shot out to steady her, but she quickly pulled away, taking a step backward. “What? What did you say?” Her voice grew steadier with each word she spoke.

The soft tones of her voice skimmed over James like a caress. He was struck with the urge to draw her close to him, lay his head against her stomach and just listen to her talk. But fright still lingered in her dark chocolate-brown eyes in spite of her bravado. Her fingers clenched around the pen she was holding and she took another half-step backward.

If you go casting love spells, be careful what you wish for.

A Touch of Magick

© 2010 N.J. Walters

Spells, Secrets and Seductions, Book 1

Rhiannon Sparks admits she’s not a very good witch—she can’t even light a candle without a match—but she keeps trying. At least her talent for business has made her magick shop a huge success. Now if only there was even the faintest flicker in her nonexistent love life.

During a night of eating and drinking, she and her girlfriends cast a candle-magick spell for hot sex. All in good fun, of course. Except Rhiannon accidentally mixes up the words. Instead of a lover, she asks for true love.

Deputy Ryland Stone’s past keeps him firmly rooted in reality. Then he meets Rhiannon and sparks literally fly. One date leads to another, and then they’re practically setting the bedroom on fire…until she reveals the deal breaker.

Though love and magick have found Rhiannon at last, getting a handle on her newly unleashed power is the least of her problems. Unless Ryland accepts that magick exists, he will never accept her for who and what she is.

Warning: This book contains a simple candle-magick spell, which you use at your own risk, a disastrous date, phone sex, and enough sizzle to practically set the sheets on fire.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
A Touch of Magick:

She stepped back and looked at the two women she loved liked sisters. “I still think we all need to get laid.”

They both laughed, as she’d hoped, and the atmosphere was lightened once again. “What do you propose?” Esther appeared intrigued by the idea.

“Something simple. Like I said, I’m not a very good witch. I’ve got issues.”

Maggie giggled. “You need a self-help group or something.”

Rhiannon laughed in spite of herself. It wasn’t a topic she usually found funny, but she supposed it did sound a bit ridiculous.

Esther shrugged. “I’m in. What can it hurt?”

Both of them looked at Maggie, who held up her hands in mock defeat. “Okay. I don’t think it will work, but I’m game.”

Pleased that her friends were willing to try her experiment, Rhiannon went over to the large oak cabinet dominating almost one entire wall of the dining area, and pulled open one of the drawers. This was where she kept all her magickal supplies. It only took her a moment to collect what they’d need.

“Let’s go outside. The moon is almost full and will add power to our spell.”

She headed out the back door with her friends tight at her heels. Abigail slipped out with them and raced ahead, down the steps and into the secluded yard.

The long cotton skirt she wore fluttered in the light breeze. The air was crisp, but it wasn’t too cold. The moon hung like an orb in the sky, illuminating the garden. Rhiannon loved this time of year. There was so much magick in the air you could almost touch it. An owl hooted in the distance.

The large yard was one reason she’d bought this house. With mature trees and no close neighbors, it gave her the privacy to practice any rituals or spells she chose. Plus, she enjoyed the feeling of being alone in her garden.

“So what do we do?” Esther was on her right side trying to see what she was carrying. Rhiannon could hear the slightest bit of nervousness in Esther’s voice. Maggie walked silently on her other side.

They reached the center of the garden and she stopped and handed both women a red votive candle. “First, we’ll anoint the red candles with rose oil. Both are representative of passion. Start in the middle of the candle and stroke down to the bottom. When you’re finished, go back to the middle and then stroke the oil up to the top of the candle.”

She handed off the oil and they all began to rub the fragrant scent into the candles. The night was cool but not overly cold. Maybe it was the remnants of the wine keeping her warm. Or perhaps it was the thought of having sex sometime in the near future that heated her blood. “As you do this, think about the kind of man you’d want to have sex with. Be specific without naming a person.”

“Why?” Maggie stopped what she was doing.

“Because you should never try to manipulate anyone with magick. That’s bad and will rebound on you in ways you won’t like. What you want to do is draw someone with the characteristics you want. They’ll only come if they’re willing.”

“Okay.” Maggie went back to her task. Rhiannon noticed Esther was concentrating fiercely on her candle.

Rhiannon focused her attention on the candle in her hand. It warmed as she ran her fingers up and down its length. Her bangles tinkled with each stroke she made, like wind chimes blowing in the breeze. She pushed them high on her arm, wanting to be able to concentrate solely on what she was doing.

Closing her eyes, she thought about the kind of man she wanted. She wanted a man who was honest and loyal, one who had morals without being self-righteous. He’d be strong, with wide shoulders and piercing blue eyes. His fingers would be callused, but they’d be gentle as they stroked over her body. A shiver skated down her spine. Her breasts felt heavy and a low pulse of desire began to throb deep in her belly.

Her eyes popped open and she sucked in a breath of the cool evening air. The breeze caressed her skin like a phantom lover, teasing and touching her everywhere. In spite of the chill, a bead of sweat rolled down the length of her spine. She shuddered and wrapped her hand around the small votive candle, envisioning all her sexual frustration flowing from her and into the wax.

Thankfully, both of her friends were focusing so hard on their candles, they hadn’t noticed anything amiss. When they were all done, Rhiannon placed her votive candle on the patio stone that sat in the middle of her garden for this very purpose. She motioned to her friends and they did the same. The three red candles now sat in the middle of the stone, the scent of rose perfume surrounding them. “If I was doing a big ritual, I’d cast a circle and do more elaborate preparations, but this is simple candle magick.”

She stepped forward and lit her candle, then handed off the matches to Esther so she could light hers. Esther then passed the matches to Maggie. The flames leapt into the air, diffusing the scent of the rose oil into the air.

Rhiannon stepped up close to the candles and raised her hands in the air. The other two women did the same, and they all touched their fingers together, forming a circle around the burning flames.

Tipping her head back, Rhiannon stared at the moon, drawing its energy down to her. “Lady Moon in the sky so bright. Lend your power. Lend your might. Bring to us a love that’s true. And one that one day we won’t rue. In this time and in this hour, we three ladies ask this of thee. We ask this done and harm to none, what we have wrought here now is begun.”