Crystal Jordan

Walk on the Wild Side of Romance

Crystal Jordan

Walk on the Wild Side of Romance

When Lady Ketryn is called back to her home world to join Lord Nadir's harim, she is curious to learn more about her weredragon nature. What she discovers is a scorching eroticism that consumes her all over.

Note: This story was previously published as part of the Carnal Desires anthology.

Excerpt:

So that’s Harena.

Ketryn tried to dredge up some excitement. It was her first visit to her home world, after all. Even if she hadn’t been there since she was a small child, she should feel some connection to it, shouldn’t she? But no. She had no desire to be here. Now that her ambassador father was dead, her family intended to marry her off as a member of some man’s harim. Would that make her his third wife or his fifth? She had no idea. She only knew his name was Lord Nadir. The rest was a complete mystery. What she knew about her own kind could fit onto the tip of her smallest finger, with room left to spare. Weredragons weren’t known to give away the secrets of their society, and Ketryn hadn’t grown up among them, so she felt the keen lack of knowledge more now than ever before.

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Gods. She’d traveled for six standard months just to get to this sunburnt rock in the back end of space. The thought didn’t please her. As low as her expectations were, the planet below was worse than she’d imagined. No blue of ocean broke the landscape of endless red sand. If it looked this bad from here, she wasn’t certain she wanted to get much closer. As if she had a choice now. She sighed and rested her head against the curved window of the observation lounge.

Ketryn wrinkled her nose at her wavy reflection in the glass, noticing the thin layer of purple scaling that reached from the middle of her hands to her biceps. The barest touch against her scales could elicit an intense sexual reaction. Dragons were very proud of their markings, or so her father had once mentioned to her. It was one of the few things he’d ever told her about her race before he’d died. She only knew she was entirely different from the weretigers she’d grown up with on Vesperi.

She was concentrating on the window so hard she didn’t notice her best friend, Mahlia, walk up behind her until she spoke. “Look, Ketryn! Isn’t it amazing?”

“Yes, Mahlia, that is exactly what I was thinking.” Ketryn made a derisive noise in the back of her throat, but it erupted as a reptilian hiss. She’d spent too many Turns picking up the conversational habits of tigers.

Mahlia raised her eyebrows and lifted her baby, Crown Prince Razak, against her shoulder to pat his back. “Such enthusiasm. This is an important trade relationship to maintain between our planets…and in order to trade, we’re finally getting off this spaceship. Thank the Gods. Besides, it could be fun.”

“Says the happily mated woman with new twin cubs.” She smiled to take the bite out of her words. If anyone deserved the joy they’d found, it was Mahlia and Varad. The two weretiger monarchs had lost their first child to a rare genetic defect, and the agonizing loss had nearly dissolved their mating. Ketryn longed for that kind of mating, a bond that could survive anything, no matter how tragic. But being raised among those unlike her, and returning to a planet where she knew nothing of the culture, she was unlikely to find that kind of acceptance, the sense of belonging she had always craved. Always apart. That was her fate. She sighed and leaned against the window.

“Now, now, Ketryn, you just can’t judge a tiger by its stripes.” Ketryn groaned as Mahlia fluffed her cream-and-bronze-striped hair. “And they are throwing us a welcoming party when we get to the landing site.”

“Yes, so the men can club us and drag us back to their sand pits.” Ketryn arched an innocent brow.

“Well, I guess that makes us the cat’s meow.”

“Mah-lia, the cat jokes are so trite.”

“Here, kitty, kitty, kitty,” Mahlia singsonged.

Ketryn laughed so hard she had to wrap her arms around her belly. Trust Mahlia to make this easier for her, to make her laugh about it. Her friend knew how upset she was about the arranged mating, about the lack of a single mate. Tigers might have many mates throughout their lives, but only one at a time. That she was now to be just another woman in a dragon’s harim made her stomach churn in disquiet. “Just wait until you see the dragon-skinned boys down there. Then we’ll see how funny it is.”

Mahlia straightened at the reference to ancient Earthans’ practice of gene-splicing humans with sea dragons to make shape-shifting dragons. Unlike the three other shape-shifting races—werebears, weretigers, and merpeople—weredragons were the only ones that had been created from a non-Earthan animal. The desert climate created by the binary suns of Harena called for a wereanimal that could withstand a harsh, drought-prone environment. When, for unknown reasons, gene-splicing with Earthan reptiles had failed to take, scientists had turned to the sea dragons found on the water world of Aquatilis, home planet of the merpeople. Mahlia tilted her head. “I’ve never been with a weredragon, only tigers. Are our hosts really scaled all over?”

“Not all over, but I’ll let you guess exactly which parts are.” Ketryn leered, but she didn’t know the true answer. She’d never had sex with a dragon either. The only other weredragon on Vesperi had been her father. She shuddered. No, she’d definitely never been with another dragon.

Mahlia gasped, her eyes rounding with horrified fascination. The slitted cat’s pupils in her crystal-blue snow tiger eyes expanded. “Really? Down there?”

Ketryn chortled, flicking imaginary dust specks off her purple scales. “You don’t want to play snake charmer, Amira?”

“It might be interesting to find out what that feels like. You shouldn’t limit yourself, Ketryn.”

“Yes, and she’s the only one of you who might find that out.” A low growl sounded from the doorway. Varad padded in with his daughter cradled to his chest. He bent to press a gentle kiss on his mate’s lips. The twins reached for each other, patting their hands together and gurgling. The tiny girl, Princess Varana, had her father’s golden eyes and auburn-and-black-striped hair, whereas Razak had his mother’s paler snow tiger coloring. They were both the most beautiful babies Ketryn had ever seen. She sighed, allowing herself a moment of pure, self-indulgent envy. She wished her future looked half as bright as Mahlia’s, but it did not. Her heart twisted. She’d never have love, never know the sweet, hot lust for a mate that she saw so often in her friend’s gaze. No, Ketryn’s life would be the same one she’d always known, no matter which planet she lived on. She never belonged anywhere or to anyone.

COLLAPSE

When Jain Roberts' ship crashes on a distant, futuristic planet, she's rescued by Kesuk, the lusty clan leader of the Arctic Bears. This magnificent creature with white-blond hair and a potent masculinity haunts her dreams—dreams he intends to make deliciously real, as he draws her into a realm of complete sexual abandon.

Note: This story was previously published as part of the Sexy Beast V anthology.

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Excerpt:

“Help me! Please...somebody help.”

Jain's teeth chattered as she scanned the foreign landscape. Snow covered the rocky ground in a thick layer, and massive trees surrounded the clearing on all sides, hemming her in so she couldn't get her bearings. Night began to fall, and the temperature dropped rapidly. Crossing her arms over her breasts, she rubbed her numb hands over her biceps to try and stimulate circulation. God, she was so cold. Ice bit into her legs, scraping the skin away and leaving her feet raw and bleeding.

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She'd been wandering around naked since her ship crashed, and her personal pod had released her from cryogenic freeze. Had anyone else made it out? The ship had held a full crew and one other passenger besides her. It had exploded in a fiery array of reds, yellows, and oranges, but she'd seen no one else from the ship. The roiling smoke had spun through the towering trees and into the afternoon sky in twists of black soot. Since no rescue party had responded to the crash, she assumed she'd landed in an uninhabited area.

“Hellooooo!” Her voice echoed over the frozen landscape.

With each moment that passed, she felt her strength draining, her ability to reason slipping away. She struggled to collect her wandering thoughts, to plan how to save herself. Fading in and out of consciousness, she wondered how much longer she could last without shelter. She had no idea what planet she was on. She should have landed on Aquatilis, where her brother worked as a marine geneticist, but Aquatilis was almost completely covered in water, and she was in the middle of a mountain range. Something had gone seriously wrong. There weren't supposed to be any other inhabitable planets in this solar system, but she could breathe and the gravity was almost normal. Where the hell was she?

Kesuk had seen the fiery explosion in the distance and had come to investigate. His sentries fanned out to surround the clearing. The feud with the Browns had just been settled, but it looked as though they wished to start again. He heaved a weary sigh, his paws crunching through the thick sheet of ice as he drew nearer the inferno. Would they never learn?

Their leaders smiled and bowed to his face while their warriors slaughtered his livestock and stole his women. He slid his tongue over his long fangs, enjoying the idea of catching them breaking the pact. His young daughter might enjoy a Brown slave. A low growl of pleasure rumbled through his chest at the thought. He hadn't started this feud, but he'd finish it.

Relishing the prospect of a good fight, he quickened his pace. Rolling his shoulders, he stretched into a lumbering run, his long strides eating the distance. Pricking his ears, he stayed alert for signs of an ambush.

“Help me.”

The ragged cry sounded to his left, bringing him up short. His breath snorted clouds in the icy air as he waited to hear it again. Padding lightly, he crept between the trees, winding his way toward the origin of the noise.

A woman. A woman unlike any he'd ever seen. Naked, glorious, tiny, her short tufts of brown hair sleek against her skull. Her eyes drew him, greener than the leaves of a Sitka tree. He ran his tongue down a curved canine tooth, eyeing her softly curved form, the thatch of tight dark curls between her slim thighs. Perhaps it was not his daughter who would gain a slave this day. Her sudden appearance and odd coloring demanded he examine her more closely. His men would investigate the explosion and seek him out to report their findings. They knew their duty because he trained them well.

Foolish of her clan to allow her out alone. What was she doing in the borderlands? Her skin was too pale to be a Black or a Brown. He sighed in regret as he drew near. Perhaps she was addled; such birth defects or misfortunes were known to happen. She wandered through the snow, her broken gait and dazed expression making it obvious she would freeze to death. And soon. He raised his nose to the wind, trying to catch her scent. She wasn't of his clan, that much he knew, but she was on his land.

She belonged to him.

COLLAPSE

Viking god of thunder and bear-shifter Thor has been married to the earth goddess Sif for millennia, but tragedy and betrayal tore them apart long ago. Now husband and wife in name only, they avoid each other when they can and barely tolerate each other when they can’t.

Too bad they’re still in love—though they’d never admit it.

But ancient prophecies are beginning to turn against them, leaving them no more room for misgivings. The apocalypse is coming, and unless they work together, they don’t stand a chance against the enemies they face.

Can they learn to trust again, or will the end of the world consume them both?

Note: this book was previously titled Viking Desire.

Excerpt:

“Sif.”

She froze at the sound of her name, one foot inside the door to the guest chambers she used whenever she stayed in her father-in-law’s home. No one should be here when she wasn’t, but her estranged spouse liked to think he was above such rules. “Thor.”

Arms folded over his brawny chest, he leaned back against the footboard, which was carved with ravens and falcons—symbols of his parents, Odin and Freya. The armoire, dressing table, and several tapestries on the walls featured the same animals. But Freya had designated this room for Sif, so the bed’s gold-and-bronze silk canopy and duvet were embroidered with her standard, a rowan tree.

The elegant furnishings only made Thor look that much more rugged and dangerous, the calm before a brewing storm. He was the picture of casual, yet his laser-blue gaze seared into her. One hand rose, his thumbnail rasping over his bearded jaw. “I understand you went over to Earth today.”

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Her heart skipped a beat at the leashed rage in his tone, but she raised her chin and stepped into the suite. How he always knew where she was and when, despite the fact that they rarely spoke anymore, was a source of constant annoyance for her. Why he bothered keeping tabs on her was a mystery she’d never solve.

“I go quite frequently. In fact, I practically live there.” She arched her eyebrows and shut the door. “This may have escaped your notice in the last few millennia, husband, but I’m an earth goddess.”

The sarcasm did nothing to appease his temper, but she had no real interest in appeasing him. As far as anyone in Asgard knew, they had a good marriage, were cordial when together in public, never spoke ill of each other, and had diverse interests that often kept them away from their home at Bilskirnir hall. In reality, they’d had a love-hate relationship for centuries and tried never to be at Bilskirnir at the same time, which was why she was currently “visiting” Valhalla.

Since they’d broken up, they’d mostly just gone about their lives as if they weren’t married—traveling where and when they pleased, spending time in their separate vacation homes, sleeping with whomever they wanted—and it had worked out well enough. They stayed out of each other’s way, but when push came to shove, they were technically still wed.

However, if the ancient prophecies were correct, their marriage was about to come to an end with his death in Ragnarök—the Twilight of the Gods—the apocalyptic battle between gods and giants that would destroy Earth. She’d gone to help those who wanted to stop it, but she doubted Thor would thank her for it.

For all she knew, he was now on the jötunn side, the giants she loathed with every fiber of her being. He wouldn’t be the first major god to switch sides—to decide he could change the prophecy through treachery, thus avoiding his death. Another of the major Viking gods, Frey, had done so, and there was no telling who else would make the same choice.

The bottom line was, she had no idea who she could trust anymore, including her husband.

It was just a shame she still loved him.

Not that she’d ever tell him but, hoping he’d remain loyal to the gods, she’d done what she could to make sure there were warriors to fight beside him when the time camea group of berserkers lead by Erik Siegfried, the one man the prophecy said would survive the coming battle. The World’s Chosen.

Though if she were completely honest, she’d admit she wanted the giants to lose the fight because one of their kind had murdered Thor’s and her daughter, Thura. Centuries ago, and yet the wound still felt fresh. Not to mention the one giant who’d felt free to put his hands on Sif while she was blitzed out of her mind—the memories of that incident still gave her nightmares. Since both of those events combined had made her marriage implode…why, yes, she’d like every single oversized bastard wiped from the known realms. Maybe a peaceful earth goddess shouldn’t think that way, but she was a Viking. Taking a breath, she tucked her fury away. The future was what she needed to focus on, not the past.

Thor’s nostrils flared and his gaze dropped to her midsection. “Is that blood?”

“Probably.” She tugged at the hem of her T-shirt, seeing a dried, dark smear across the fabric. “There was a battle, as I’m sure your terrifyingly efficient informants have told you. Frey and his giant friends kidnapped a valkyrie—Bryn, Siegfried’s lover—and nearly killed her. Siegfried wasn’t exactly happy about that, and Frey’s dead now. Most of the giants with him too.” Good riddance, but she kept that thought to herself and just provided a bare-bones report of events. “I brought Bryn here to be healed and then took her to the farm she owns in Virginia. Some of her blood must have gotten on me while we teleported.”

A low snarl issued from his throat, the sound more animal than man, the bear inside him coming to the fore. Vikings had often called him Björn or Björn-Thor when he appeared as a massive brown bear before them. Most never saw him shift between forms, but they knew him for who he was—a god, a warrior, a ferocious beast. One whose enemies quaked before him.

Maybe she should have been scared, but she wasn’t. Mostly, she was wired from having witnessed a bloody skirmish, stressed about the end being nigh, and just didn’t have the patience to deal with her irate, possibly treacherous spouse. Rubbing her forehead, she sighed. “I’ve had a long day, Thor. What do you actually want?”

The question seemed to make him even angrier, and his cheeks flushed red. He dropped the casual pose and was across the room in three long strides, backing her against the wall beside the thick wooden door. He loomed over her, his nose a hairsbreadth from hers as he got right in her face. “I want you to stay out of this. You’re no soldier—don’t act like you have any place in a battle.”

Did he want her out of the way because he was worried about her safety, or because he was worried she’d help the gods win? Which side was he on? Either way, her answer was the same. The end of the world was coming, and no one had the luxury of standing on the sidelines. Inaction meant annihilation.

She glared up at him. “I won’t stay out of it and you can’t make me.”

A bit of fang showed when he curled his lip in disgust. “You sound like a petulant child.”

Spank me, then. Another thought she kept to herself. He’d actually take her over his knee, and she’d no doubt enjoy it far more than she should. No matter how crappy their relationship became, the sex was amazing. Chemistry was a bitch that way.

Shoving aside the carnal awareness that filtered through her whenever he was near, she tilted her head toward the door. “If that’s all you have to say, you can go now.”

“Damn you, Sif.” And then his mouth slammed down on hers, an act of possession and dominance that wouldn’t change her mind.

But her body didn’t care about logic. No, her hormones went wild the moment he touched her, just as they always had. Two thousand years, and she still craved this man like an addiction. No matter how she’d fought it, the need was never ending, uncontrollable, consuming. His hard angles fitted to her softer curves, and fire danced over her skin everywhere their bodies met.

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