If lust were flames there’d be scorch marks across the ages!
Ardith is a time traveling witch, a member of the Epoch Mages. Draigh is a Sorceri Bounty Hunter. They H-A-T-E each other. When they’re thrown together by the elders to chase an evil rogue witch through time and save the world from flesh eating zombies, they quickly discover that, while their minds may tell them they don’t like being together, their bodies don’t quite agree. In fact, if lust were flames, there‘d be scorch marks across the ages!
~ 5 Stars from SnifferWalk ”I don’t hand out a ton of 5 Star ratings for books. Like my Ratings Guide says, they have to be practically life changing. But if I read a book and I just cannot seem to forget it, it has to be a 5.”
~ 5 Stars from My Cozie Corner Book Reviews “A hard to put down novel that will capitvate you from the beginning.”
~ 4 Stars from Evolved World “Ms. Cheever makes a mean post-Apocalyptic earth which is easily credible, and unlike so many such tales, does not have the awkward “here’s what’s this world is all about” phase which can plague a paranormal romance. Action. Hate. Lust. Time Shift. Zombie Goo. We all win.”
~4 Stars from Books and Other Spells “I really liked like book! The characters, setting and plot was just so fascinating! I could not stop reading it! I love books that have the two characters hate each other then end up together. You get to see all the side of the characters before they fall in love, so you know that they can handle each other. It also makes the book so much more interesting and lovable and of course hilarious!“
Draigh couldn’t believe he was being forced to work with a mage. He was fully capable of capturing the crone Edana without an epoch mage tagging along. He’d hunted rogue magic users for centuries and needed no instruction from the young wench striding along beside him as if she owned the world.
He cast her a sideways glance, taking in the long, well-toned limbs and the lush curves beneath the scant leather costume she wore. The ridiculous clothing barely covered her considerable assets. He wanted to be disgusted by the clothing, hating how it made him hard beneath his own leather breeches.
And he despised the woman. The last thing he wanted was to have any kind of pleasant thoughts about her. Particularly of the carnal kind.
Frowning crankily, Draigh forced his gaze away from the soft roundness bulging past the edges of the leather top. The woman was a damn temptress. He’d seen her type before. He’d had his balls handed to him by one in fact. He might not be the smartest hunter on the planet. But he rarely made the same mistake twice. The witch was nothing but trouble.
And at the moment she stood between him and his prey. That was unacceptable. The first thing he needed to do was rid himself of her. Then he could do the job he’d been hired to do.
Her steps slowed and faltered as they approached the low-slung structure at the edge of town. It was built into the side of a hill. He immediately realized the same thing she obviously had. It was one of the bunker-style buildings that had become so popular since the great wars. Only the entrance was above ground. Most of the structure would be subterranean.
He slid a furtive glance the witch’s way and noted the moisture already beading on her upper lip. Her usual creamy, peach-toned skin had turned a pasty shade of tan. He wanted to celebrate her discomfort. But somehow he just couldn’t. “I can go inside and question the witness. You can wait outside.” He hadn’t meant it to sound like a command. Unfortunately that was the way it had emerged from his lips.
Sirius dropped to his wide haunches, his tongue sliding out to snap across his lips as if to say, “I can’t wait to see her reaction to that one.”
Her head whipped around, flinging the thick, waist-length braid into the air as her gaze snapped in his direction. “I’m fine. I don’t need you protecting me.”
Draigh ground his teeth and clenched his fists. So much for learning from his mistakes. He’d tried to give the viper a soft nest to rest upon, and the damn thing had thanked him by attempting to sink its fangs into his throat. “Suit yourself, witch.”
She strode right up to the victim’s door and pounded. Draigh waited a few feet back, his gaze sweeping the area for signs of Edana’s own special type of trouble. The witch pounded on the door again and received no response.
She glanced at Draigh. “Looks like we’ll have to do this the hard way.” Magic thickened on the air and Draigh swore. “Let me try…”
Ardith sent a focused beam of magic into the door handle and the door swung open. She turned to give Draigh a smug smile, not noticing as a large hand appeared from inside the house and wrapped around the edge of the door. Draigh called out a warning and she started to turn.
The door slammed outward, sending her sprawling.
Before he knew what he was doing, Draigh had thrown himself over the witch and covered her to the ground.
She landed beneath him with an umph and started pelting his chest with her small fists. “Get off me, oaf.”
Pain pierced his calf as her damn familiar clamped his massive jaws around Draigh’s leg and gave it a warning squeeze, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
The stench of sour, old death assailed his nostrils. Draigh squinted through the shadows beyond the door and saw movement. “Stop it, witch! Call off your dog. We have company.”
He tried to grab her wrists but she was too agitated. Fighting the urge to smack her unconscious, Draigh screamed into her face, “Stop fighting me. Edana’s pets are about to descend on us.”
Fortunately her dog was smarter than she. He released Draigh and stood with teeth bared, snarling at the shadowed entrance.
She stopped pounding on him and peered around his shoulder just as the first pale half-rotted face appeared in the doorway. “Well why didn’t you say so?” The first blast of her magic nearly took his ear off and left a whistling tone in his head.
He rolled off her. “Damn it, woman.”
She leapt to her feet and sent another blast into the conglomeration of mucus and bone marching stiffly toward them. The zombie’s bloodied, jagged teeth were bared in a warning hiss. When her magic hit, the thing surged backward, a huge chunk of its chest sloughing away under the force of her witch fire.
The zombie bounced into the pale-faced monster at its back and started forward again. Sirius leapt on the next monster, carrying it to the ground and very efficiently removing its head with a single jerk of his massive jaws at its throat. Blood and goo sprayed upward but Sirius was already gone, having flung himself onto the next zombie coming through the door.
Draigh pulled one of his knives and leapt on the lumbering monster nearest him, slicing the knife cleanly through its spongy neck with one swipe. Putrid-smelling green slime sprayed in an arc from the blade of his knife, saturating Draigh’s face and arms. The head dropped to the ground and rolled away, and the body sank slowly to the earth.
When Draigh looked toward the door again, he was facing a small army of the mangy creatures, though Sirius had left a trail of carnage in his wake. Ardith stood beside him, her eyes flashing and her fists fizzling with unshed magic.
He glanced at her. “I hate zombies.”
She gave him a slow smile. “You wanted exercise. I think you’re gonna get it.”
Then she leapt into the fray, witch fire flying, and Draigh reluctantly followed her in.
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