T.J. Michaels is an awesome lady. She’s a New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of contemporary and paranormal interracial romance. If you haven’t read one of her books, you’re truly missing out. Her voice is real, her descriptions beautiful, her books worth it.
Her latest release, Wind & Fire, Volume 1, is a unique and epic post-apocalyptic romance. With her permission, I’ve added an excerpt below…
Damned woman. He couldn’t believe how badly this was going. But this was, after all, Rhia Greysomne, and if she was anything like the hellion of her youth, it was about to get worse. Made him wonder what it would be like to hold all that fire in his arms. To be the one to bring that heat flowing out of her as she lay beneath him. Or on top of him. Or up against a wall. Or on the floor…
“Care to say what’s on your mind, newbie?” she snarled quietly, her lips drawn tight around her teeth.
Yes, this woman he definitely knew. One side of his mouth lifted. Wrong move. She’d been somewhat aggravated before, but his pleased expression obviously wasn’t appreciated. Temper pricked, she took a step closer.
The nick in his skin stung and he thanked the Ancestors that Rhia had such incredible control of that blade. He was grateful he’d chosen dark clothing this morning. At least it wouldn’t show the blood.
Whether she knew it or not, she’d already drawn first blood, severely limiting his options of how to get out of this mess with his honor intact. He didn’t like humiliating a commander in front of her men but…
Nothing to be done for it, he sighed to himself. The Grandfather always said, “Once you’ve stepped in a pile of shit, you’re going to smell whether you keep the other foot clean or not.”
May as well sink both feet.
“I believed you were Blademaster here, yet you’ve blooded me for no reason. Perhaps I was mistaken of your station given your manners.” RuArk looked down at her, crossed him arms over his chest and awaited her response.
Joan’s mouth dropped so wide open she could have caught several fish if she’d dunked her head through the melting ice on the river. Perhaps that would wake her up. The woman also backed up a couple of paces and must have known what was coming. RuArk had to admit he had a pretty good idea himself.
“You know who I am.” Definitely not a question. “How dare you speak to me like that.” Rhia’s words sounded much too calm and did not match the fire flashing in those amber cat eyes of hers. The sword point sank a little deeper into RuArk’s left pectoral. The little nick was a thing of the past. It was now a wide but controlled cut, oozing blood down the front of his tunic. Most men would be squirming by now from the pain or the sight of the blood. RuArk was hardly bothered at all, and it only seemed to annoy her more.
Rather than answering her question, he simply arched a brow in challenge. The result—sudden silence. No movement. No sound. RuArk wondered if anyone still breathed.
Rhia withdrew her blade from his chest with a snap then stepped so close he could feel the heat radiating from her body. She tried to stand toe to toe with him, but even at her unusual height, her head only reached his chin. Realizing she couldn’t stare him down, she rose up on her toes.
Each breath he took was filled with her to the point he almost moaned at the natural scent of her body. He wondered what soap she’d used that morning. His gaze dropped to the path that a bead of sweat made as it snaked down her neck and disappeared between her breasts. That stubborn chin of hers was set just below a pair of lush lips made for kissing. And she was just close enough that if he dipped his head, he could seal her lips with his.
Even pissed off she was a lovely sight. Gods, he was a goner. In danger of losing his balls, but a goner, just the same.
But this staring contest wasn’t going anywhere.
So he said, “Rhia, I do think your father was remiss in not spanking your ass when you were a child.”
“Pffft! Step into my circle, sir,” she hissed through clenched teeth. She turned her back on him, walked away, then paused to bend over and stick out her backside. RuArk’s mask of indifference slipped—the woman wiggled her butt at him! An obvious gesture of how she felt about his thoughts on her lack of discipline. Stiff with anger, she stalked to the middle of the circle where she waited. Her belly button peeked out at him from under that cropped top. Blasted woman.
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