It is now available for pre-order at Liquid Silver Books and you can save 20%.
If you haven’t read the previous three Coven books, you should still be able to read and understand the story line in this novella length story of Sheriff Debby Teague, a reluctant witch with enormous power, and Boris Petrov, a shape shifter (his animal form is a Russian Wolfhound).
Here’s the LINK to the series page at Liquid Silver Books.
Blurb for No Secrets:
Sheriff Debby Teague fled to Bear Hollow, Tennessee after saving the lives of Boris Petrov, her destined life partner, and his sister-in-law Selena Jones-Petrov (in Treading the Labyrinth). All she wants is her normal, mundane, non-magical life back, but Fate–and Boris Petrov–have other plans for her.
Boris is not happy Debby ran from him, but he understands why she did. But enough is enough. Danger surrounds her in her “safe” little tourist town, and Debby will need him—and the magical ability she denies—to survive.
Dark magick has come to Bear Hollow, and its followers don’t intend to allow Debby to ignore them–or her own dark magick.
Every night since Debby had left him in Southern Illinois, Boris visited and, like an incubus, made mad, passionate love to her. Never mind the fact her sensual tormentor was physically hundreds of miles away in Chicago and she was in the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee. Never mind that she’d told him repeatedly she didn’t want him. Never mind that she’d reluctantly resorted to every defensive dark magick trick in the book, and some she’d made up, to forestall his nightly assault on her mind and body. He still visited and with only slight variations in technique, made carnal love to her on the highest levels of the astral plane.
Tonight he was late. Stupid fool that she was, she called him on it, as if she really cared. And she didn’t! Of course she didn’t.
“You’re late. Hot date?” Debby said.
“You missed me, bébé?”
“No. In fact, I was relieved.”
Boris snorted. “Liar. I’m growing on you, admit it, little hell cat.”
Boris’s astral body reached for her. Debby slapped his hand away and stepped back. Putting what she hoped was a look of disdain on her face, she drawled, “Growing on me? Yeah, like an icky, smelly fungus.”
“Debby, my beloved one, you love me, but are just too stubborn to admit it.”
“I don’t love you, Bo. Get away from me…” She backpedaled and came up against a stone wall that hadn’t been there two seconds earlier. That was the thing about dreams and the astral plane–real world physics went all to hell.
Trapped, she growled, “Get over yourself and leave me the hell alone. I’m sure there are lots of women in Chicago you can torment on a nightly basis. Some of us need our sleep, because we have a job to do.”
“Actions speak louder than words, bébé. So let’s see just how much you hate my love-making, eh?”
Within the space of a millisecond, Boris’s astral body swept Debby’s dream self into a garden on the astral plane, high above the psychic-vamps and unaware dreamers trolling the lower levels. Her clothes whisked away by his thoughts, Debby was open to his sensual assault, once again helpless to fight him off.
Each night it was the same. It was as if her astral body wouldn’t listen to her higher brain, the part of herself that knew Boris and all that he represented was bad for her. Instead some primitive part of her psyche drove her dreams, allowing her to become a helpless victim to Boris’s lovemaking.
Lately, in the pale gray of early morning after a night of indescribable, passionate sex, there were times she second-guessed herself. Maybe she was fighting Boris and herself far too hard. Maybe she could live with him, make a family, and perform magick. Then the bright dawn of reason arrived with the morning sun and she convinced herself yet again that turning her back on him and his magical world was the best thing she could do for herself–and for the world. Never again could she allow herself to lose control of the cursed powers she possessed. Yes, she’d helped rescue Selena, Gor, and Boris from the dark magician Darius, but the use of her powers, grown greater with age, both attracted and repelled her. Call her a coward, but she couldn’t face the horrifying darkness within her.
So she’d run home to her safe little world.
The Coven followed her–and Boris wooed her nightly.
“Little one, you are not paying attention. I am nibbling your neck and stroking your pussy lips, but you are miles away. I am distraught.”
Boris inserted a finger, then two, into her vaginal opening, stroking and spreading her wetness over her puffy labia. Every few seconds, he’d flick her needy clit as if to announce he was there and wasn’t leaving until he got the reaction he desired. Horny, sensual bastard.
“Distraught? That’ll be the day. If you must know, I was thinking of England.”
Boris laughed. His lips moved from her hyper-sensitive neck to her turgid nipples. He licked, then bit first one and then the other until they were rosy and wet. All the while he increased the stroking of her sex. Already her body tightened as her arousal heightened. The tension was so great she had to remind herself to breathe, just as she fought not to react, not to allow him to control her body.
It was a useless battle. He’d proven in the past he could arouse her no matter how hard she tried not to respond. Each night she vowed to lie still like a stone statue, and each night she ended up moaning, groaning and shouting his name to the alternate reality sky. The only thing she’d been successful at was denying him the words he wished to hear–and even those had come pretty damn close to the surface. But somehow she’d managed not to give him the words of love he wanted so badly. She couldn’t love him. She wouldn’t allow it. It was too dangerous.
A long talented finger stroked her G-spot. Debby moaned. The man knew how to push her buttons. If the sex was this good out-of-body, she figured she’d never survive the real thing.