Who is Jo Carlisle:
Author Jo Carlisle writes paranormal erotic romance for readers who love their heroes a bit more on the kinky side… But she’s best known as National Bestselling Author J.D. Tyler, who writes her dark, sexy paranormal series Alpha Pack, and the Firefighters of Station Five series under her pseudonym Jo Davis. PRIMAL LAW, the first book in her Alpha Pack series, is the winner of the National Reader's Choice Award in Paranormal. She's also been a multiple finalist in the Colorado Romance Writers Award of Excellence, a finalist for the Bookseller's Best Award, has captured the HOLT Medallion Award of Merit, and has been a two-time nominee for the Australian Romance Readers Award in romantic suspense.
Jo's books regularly appear on the Neilson Bookscan, Barnes and Noble, BooksOnBoard, and Amazon bestseller lists, among others, and as J.D. Tyler she was recently named by BooksOnBoard as their #1 Bestselling Romance Author.
Jo is busy as work on the first book in the upcoming Sugarland Blue series, SWORN TO PROTECT, which will release in May 2013. Then it’s back to the Alpha Pack, writing HUNTER’S HEART, which should release in summer or fall of 2013. She enjoys reading, being pampered like the diva she is, and spending time with her awesome family. J.D. lives in Texas with her two teenagers. Visit her website at www.JDTyler.com.
Excess has long been the name of the game for vampire brothers Aldric, Soren, and Luc Fontaine. Now, one of them will leave behind La Petite Mort—New Orleans’ hottest fantasy resort for uninhibited adults—and discover an undeniable desire of his own…Excerpt:
With his brothers Aldric and Soren under fire from all sides, Luc Fontaine should have stayed at La Petite Mort to take care of business. But the chance to get away was just too tempting—and what begins as a pleasant afternoon ride becomes a life-and-death battle with a savage werewolf. The last thing Luc sees is a beautiful woman with honey-colored hair—and a razor-sharp sword…
As a powerful immortal, Kassandra has been tasked with guiding Luc into the afterlife. Instead, as she gazes into his clear blue eyes, she knows that the man she is supposed to deliver to the gods upon his death is her longed-for mate. After centuries of loneliness, Kassandra is faced with the most terrible of choices—perform her sworn duty or lose the one destined to break down her walls and love her as no male ever has. She’ll be damned if she’ll let him go. But to save Luc, she’ll have to risk the wrath of the gods…
Lifting his chin, Luc Fontaine inhaled as his horse walked at a sedate pace.
He loved riding. He always had, even as a young boy in the late 1600s, years before he and his brothers had reached full vampire maturity. He probably should’ve stuck around the mansion, with his oldest brother, Aldric, gone on business and the middle one, Soren, under the thumb of that skanky voodoo witch he’d brought home. Leila Doucet. Just thinking her name made his skin crawl. There was something seriously wrong with that female.
But the lure of a relaxing ride, getting away from their pleasure resort for a bit, had called to him. He had to laugh a little at the idea. What sane vampire actually looked forward to escaping from a constant feast of all the sex and blood he wanted? What was this restless longing in his soul, this urge to look for something he couldn’t name?
He shook his head at his own weirdness. Whatever, he wouldn’t be gone long.
The pungent aroma of the forest flooded his honed senses. Earth, pine, water—and animal. Warm, pulsing blood. Normally the scent would call to him and make his fangs itch, but something was off. The birds had stopped singing. Nothing moved.
Except a telltale footstep, not quite muffled in the undergrowth. A creature walked here the late afternoon. Something very close . . . and fucking large. He drew his mount to a halt. Listened.
He felt a shift in the air. More footsteps crunched in the foliage behind his shoulder. Coming closer. Shit. What the hell was that? The horse underneath him quivered, straining at the bit, anxious to be gone—probably a good idea.
“All right, boy. Let’s go.” He lifted the reins.
The staggering blow caught him square in the chest, sending him flying from the saddle as the horse squealed in fright. He hit the ground hard on his back and lay stunned for a moment, wondering what had happened as he listened to the pounding hooves of his mount fading away.
He rolled painfully to his hands and knees, then stilled, heart in his throat. Right in front of his hands were two paws the size of footballs. Slowly, his eyes swept upward, taking in the furred, enormous shape of the thing towering over him.
More than nine feet tall, it stood erect on two strong hind legs. The broad torso expanded into a thick chest and arms with claws like rapiers on the end of its fingers.
And its face.
Yellow, wide-set eyes narrowed with malice glowed down on him,. Dark fur surrounded the face and long black muzzle, which was full of teeth as long as steak knives.
A werewolf. Not a shifter changed into his full wolf, but a werewolf in half form, which was on average three feet taller than a man and a third again as broad. It was the deadliest creature on two legs. And like an idiot, he hadn’t brought his sword for protection.
“Should’ve gone for the horse,” it growled. “But you’ll fill my belly well enough, vampire.”
Luc’s brain short-circuited. On his knees, he froze, mouth open, unable to utter a sound. The werewolf bent, grabbed him firmly by the arms, and lifted him clear off the ground. Rational thought fled. He stared at the muzzle of the beast in mute terror, shaking his head. Fetid breath fanned inches from his face, canines gleaming in the darkness.
Subconsciously, he reached out, his silent cry slicing through time and distance.
No! Oh gods, help me—
The wolf’s huge jaws clamped down on the vee of his neck and shoulder, crushing bone and muscle. The thing shook him like a rag doll as he screamed in agony. A warm rush of blood splattered his clothing and face, bubbling in his throat to cut off his screams, and he was slammed to the ground. On his back, he could only gape in stark horror as the beast crouched over him, lowering its great head to feast on his flesh.
Sharp teeth and claws ripped into his throat and his chest. Then suddenly, his brain shut down. Blessedly, he felt nothing anymore. A strange quiet enveloped him, and he floated outside himself, disembodied, no longer a part of the pain or the hideous event taking place. Oblivion was the only defense left to a man being eaten alive.
Before the darkness took him, he saw an angel. Over the wolf’s shoulder, the woman appeared from nowhere. She was tall and strong, thick hair the color of dark honey pulled back into a braid. A great sword was gripped in one hand and, a fierce expression on her angular face, she swung at the beast with a harsh battle cry, sending its head flying.
Squatting beside him, she stared down at him with something like awe. “Easy, Luc. You’re going to be all right.” A soft hand stroked his brow.
But it was too late for him. He didn’t even have the voice to whisper his thanks to her.
Aldric. Soren. I’m so sorry.
Blackness closed over his head, and he knew nothing more.
No! Oh gods, help me—
The man’s terrified cry exploded in Kassandra’s brain, taking her breath away. Stumbling, she put out a hand and steadied herself against a tree. Got her bearings.
She’d traveled south, teleporting to a wooded area on a resort located on the outer edge of New Orleans. She’d known she was getting close and had sensed someone else nearby. But she’d expected the male to be dead already, not that she would arrive as the poor bastard was being attacked and meeting the prophesied end.
Before she thought it through, she raced toward the sounds of a struggle, dodging brush and fallen limbs. As she reached a small clearing, the sight ahead filled her with horror. The biggest werewolf she’d ever seen was crouched over its victim, claws and teeth shredding skin. It ripped at the man, shaking him as though he weighed nothing. To the werewolf, its victim was nothing but food.
It wasn’t her fight. She had a job to do. Yet for some reason, her vision was awash in red—the crimson of rage. The beast was merely doing what it must to survive, but all that mattered to her was the man pinned to the ground, limbs flailing helplessly against one so much stronger.
As he suffered a hideous death.
The loud war cry erupted from the depths of her soul, and before she considered the consequences, she launched herself across the space separating her from the target. The werewolf never saw the blade coming as she swung it over her head and cut downward in a graceful arc. Its head went flying, the big body slumping to the side. Kicking the beast aside, she dropped her sword, crouched over the vampire—and gasped.
By the gods above, he was beautiful—an angel. A shiny cap of shaggy blond hair fell around a face that belonged on a cover model. Big blue eyes stared up at her in shock as he struggled to breathe. Underneath the blood and the stench of death, his sweet, natural scent called to her, imprinting itself on her senses as no man’s ever had.
“Easy, Luc. You’re going to be all right.” Stroking his brow, she watched as his eyes fluttered closed. Desperation squeezed her heart. Shit, what was she going to do?
Indeed, very little could defeat a Valkyrie. Except finding the one special man she’d searched for these past two millennia.
And knowing she was sworn to deliver that man—her mate—to his gilded prison upon his death.