Centuries are mutations, a genetically engineered combination of super strong humans and deadly animals.
Cauldrons are the result of Centuries acting on their animalistic urges and mating with the animal of their mixed breed, producing hideously deformed, mentally disturbed and violent creatures.
A diabolical serial killer targeting young women is on the loose in Baltimore. Can a curious reporter and a branded warrior bring him to justice?
Tori Tinsdale can’t stop the erotic dreams that bring her unequivocal satisfaction but end with certain death.
Jet Landon is the Century warrior sworn to protect Tori. But what happens when the one she needs protection from is him?
Read an Excerpt
Baltimore, Maryland, 2040
With a loud rumble from above, nightfall encased the city. Rooms lit by electricity went dark as her bare feet padded across the floor. Exhausted from a long grueling day at the office, she didn’t even need the lights. She’d walked through her front door only an hour ago, had downed a glass of wine and three crackers with Colby Jack cheese and headed straight for the shower afterward. Hot water cascaded down her back like a litany of love tunes, the precipice of an evening’s rest.
Fresh sheets and plumped pillows greeted her as she fell face down onto the queen-sized bed. She rolled over once to pull the covers down before slipping her feet beneath them and languishing in the warmth they offered. Her head hadn’t quite hit the pillow before her eyes closed. A welcoming sigh signaled his entrance and then the night began.
They were in his car this time—a shiny black piece of metal that boasted many zeroes in its price tag. The seats were leather, charcoal gray, cool and soft to her touch. The skirt she wore this evening was short, but then, weren’t they all? She had great legs and never missed an opportunity to show them off. He slid into the driver’s seat, muscled thighs covering the leather beneath him. Strong hands gripped the steering wheel, the sterling silver from his watch gleaming through the dim interior. She shifted in the passenger seat as his scent reached her nostrils.
Damn, why did he always smell so good?
Foregoing the seatbelt, his hands fell from the wheel, moving slowly over the console to rest with great intent on her bare knee. She inhaled deeply, closed her eyes and laid her head back on the head rest. His fingers inched up her inner thigh, whispering promises as they rose higher. Her eyes remained closed until he grazed the ebony curls resting at her pussy.
She always welcomed him here so his fingers, sliding lithely down her now moist center, were no surprise. Arousal swirled in the pit of her stomach, her pussy pulsated, leaking its cream along her thighs. Two fingers entered her opening while his thumb caressed her tightened bud.
Her eyes fluttered open just as he ripped the front of her blouse open with his free hand. She wore no bra, her high breasts standing at attention beneath his perusal.
With a low growl, he bent his head, took a darkened nipple between his teeth and clamped down until she whimpered. He loved to hear her scream.
While fiercely stroking between her legs with one hand, he used the other on her breast, squeezing and tweaking her nipple until it was tingling and heavy with desire. She needed him more tonight than she ever had before. She wanted him completely this time, all of him, not just his hands or his lips. Reaching out, she found his erection, hard and long against his thigh. Sliding his zipper down, nimble fingers delved inside until she held the prize in the palm of her hand. It throbbed, hot and stiff, and she gripped it, her fingers sliding against the turgid skin, pulling against her, then letting her hand slide to its base.
He sucked her breasts harder, stroked her clit with more intensity. She was close, she knew, but this time he’d come right along with her. Expertly, she worked his shaft until droplets of pre-cum moistened her hand. His breathing became erratic as he jerked her skirt up and around her hips. With a quick motion, her seat fell back and she was in a lying position. He was over her quickly, like a dark god looming in the distance.
She smelled him, licked her lips in anticipation of the taste of him. She heard his breathing, felt her heart pummeling in her chest, matching his rhythm. Spreading her legs, she welcomed him, guided his rigid length to where she so desperately needed it to be. He touched her center with the tip and she closed her eyes, waiting for the supremacy of his loving to begin.
A scream echoed throughout the car, stretching down the length of the alleyway, covering the city like a sheet of cold rain. He paused over her. Her eyes flew open. Then she saw red. Flashing lights in the bold gaudy shade, droplets seeping through the closed windows of the car, tinted in the rich crimson hue.
He was still there, the one who visited her almost nightly. The one that brought her such pleasure, yet never stayed long enough to receive his own. He was still now, not moving, not breathing. She sat up on her elbows, looking around the interior of the car as it began to fill with that oozing red substance. The stench made her stomach roil and she quickly reached for the door handle to let herself out.
“Be still,” he told her. “It’ll be over soon.”
Her hand fell from the handle, her eyes still trying to focus on his face. Moments seemed to pass and she felt the warm liquid moving past her ankles and up to her knees. She almost screamed as it touched her, but he put a finger to her lips, stalling the emotion.
“It is finished.”