Would you mind being forced to stay near a gorgeous hunk?

The heroine of my recent release Close Contact does. In ways, I can't say that I blame her. They're not trapped in a cabin by a freak snowstorm. Nothing as simple or as temporary as that. A spell is keeping her near a werewolf who's thoughts are running to mating for life rather than a few nights together.

Here's a blurb and short excerpt.

Geneva’s having a bad day. With a spell put on her by an angry witch, the last thing she needs is a werewolf claiming she’s his mate—even if he is gorgeous and she can’t get enough of his kisses.

Evan’s happy to have found his mate; even the spell keeping them within close proximity to each other doesn’t bother him. He’s more than eager to stay near her sweet body and satisfy his craving for her, but her protection is his first priority.

However, the witch isn’t satisfied with the results of the spell. Geneva and Evan have to stop additional attacks before they lose their chance to be together.

Excerpt:

“Come on. We’ll go sit down and talk about your involvement with other witches.” Evan drew her through a spacious kitchen and into a huge living room.

He sprawled in a large comfortable-looking, black chair. He’d released her, so she moved away and sat on the black couch nearby. He was too freaking confident and sexy as hell. She wanted to be able to smack his ego back down to size, but not being able to go very far away from him hindered that. After he’d taken off his jacket, she’d noticed those broad shoulders weren’t a trick of the cloth.

“I don’t have any real involvement with witches. That’s why this doesn’t make sense. I listen. I ask questions. None of them are threatened by me. In spite of being a witch, I don’t know how to do even the simplest witch magic. I don’t do magic. I can’t see why anyone would want to do something like this to me. The risk to them is too great.” She shook her head and leaned back against the plush cushion.

“Sometimes, knowledge is power. Do you know of anyone angry with you over some information you passed along to the Protectorate?” He folded his arms across his chest.
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Sure there are people who get angry with me, but this would take more than anger. This is hate.”

“They certainly put a lot of energy into the spell,” Evan admitted.

That had to be the understatement of the century. She ran her fingers through her hair and closed her eyes. Her life was in chaos and Evan’s behavior only added to the tension, but he wasn’t the major force. A vengeful magic user held that position. She knew that once he’d scented her, the wolf in him wouldn’t just let him walk away from her. If it was just the fact that he’d claimed her as mate, she’d happily fight and argue about it. The spell on her made things even more complicated. She didn’t have the ability to run from him if he was too stubborn about it.

“You’re brooding. Come here, Geneva.” He lifted his hand, extending his palm toward her.

“Of course I’m brooding. I have a spell on me that won’t let me get farther than eight feet from you.” She crossed her arms and didn’t move. Oh, no, she wasn’t going over to him. It was already hard enough to resist him without getting close to him. “And if it’s not off by Halloween, this could be a permanent situation.”

“You’re just upset that it won’t be taken off you right now. It shouldn’t take us long to discover who put it on you,” he said. His fingers curled in a beckoning gesture. “If I go over there, I’ll be tempted to put that couch to use.”
Geneva sighed. That was an idea she needed to keep out of his head. Just being here was more than she wanted to think about right now. She got to her feet. Walking around the gleaming coffee table, she slipped her hand into his.

He pulled her across his lap. Nuzzling her shoulder-length hair away from her neck, his tongue lapped at the base of her neck. He inhaled deeply. She frowned. Every time he took her in his arms, he did that. She didn’t understand why and asking would probably result in another pointless frustrating exchange. Almost all of his answers regarding why he did something involved “because I’m your mate.” It made her want to scream.

His warm hand slipped between the buttons of her blue shirt, brushing over the skin just below the bottom edge of her bra. Tingles skittered over her skin as his fingers traced the edge of the undergarment. She felt her breasts swelling against the fabric and her nipples tightened into hard points.

Available now at Ellora's Cave