Title: Shadow’s Edge, Book 1 of The Kyn Kronicles
Author: Jami Gray
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Everyone fears what hunts in the shadows—especially the monsters…
It takes a monster to hunt one, and Raine McCord, forged in the maelstrom of magic and science, is the one for the job. In a world where the supernatural shares a shadowy existence with the mundane, a series of disappearances and deaths threatens the secrecy of her kind and suggests someone knows the monsters are alive and kicking.
Partnering with the sexy and tantalizing Gavin Durand proves to be as challenging and dangerous as the prey she hunts. When the trail leads back to the foundation, which warped Raine’s magic as a child, her torturous past raises its ugly head.
Gavin and Raine sift through a maze of lies, murder, and betrayal, to discover not only each other, but the emerging threat to them and the entire magical community.
Raine took Gavin home with her, rationalizing it was quicker to go there than back to the office—even her inner voice wasn’t buying that one—an unprecedented move she hoped no one at Taliesin would ever hear about. If they did, the rumors would grow to grossly elaborate proportions, filled with all sorts of innuendos and sly asides. As far as she was concerned, office gossip comprised an outer level of hell just by its nature of twisted truths and sheer vindictiveness.
Neither one spoke during the drive. Pulling into her detached garage she shut the engine off, listening to it tick in the silence. She leaned her head back against the headrest, her hands quiet on her lap.
“We stepped on someone’s toes,” Gavin’s voice was low and soft.
When she rolled her head to look at him, she noticed the small lines of pain around his mouth. The tiny indicators tugged on her conscience, urging her to get them inside, but she couldn’t find the energy to move. She blinked, long and slow, not bothering to respond.
In the darkness, his eyes were pale jade and his light earthy scent reminded her of a deep forest glen after a rain, comforting and disconcerting all at the same time. She had the strongest urge to trace those pain lines away.
That last observation disturbed her enough to make her move and open her door as the tension from earlier made a comeback. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up and get some sleep. I’m barely functioning right now.”
His door opened, and his feet hit the ground.
They headed toward the house.
Once inside, he followed her into the kitchen. “Déjà-vu,” he muttered.
She threw him a look over her shoulder, once again dragging out her first aid kit. “Except we’ve switched places.”
His low chuckle answered.
Gathering what she needed, she turned and found him sitting in a chair, shirtless. There was no way she could stop herself from taking him in. His gray T-shirt was on the floor and the expanse of golden flesh confronting her made her thoughts scatter. Realizing she was just standing there, gawking at him, she mentally shook herself like a wet dog, snapping back into focus.
Slightly disconcerted, she met his darkening gaze. Grabbing another chair, she dragged it next to his, took a seat, and faced him. Trying to ignore the sensation of her left thigh barely brushing his outstretched right leg, she bent over his wound. Her voice came out husky, “We need to clean you up, though I don’t think you’ll need stitches.”
He said nothing.
She slanted a glance up to find him watching her—like some big cat waiting to pounce. She shrugged and forced her attention back to the work at hand, though her fingers trembled slightly as she cleaned the blood off the now half-closed wound. Warmth radiated from him, spreading chills down her arms. Her awareness of him as a male raised her tension level—which, in turn, pissed her off. Her eyes whipped to his. “Whatever you’re doing, knock it off. I don’t like games.”
At her outburst, satisfaction darkened his face. “I’m not doing anything.” His other arm darted around her neck. His fingers wrapped around her braid, and he drew her head down to meet his lips. “But I can change that.”
She tried to tell herself it was shock holding her immobile in his firm grip, not curiosity.
His warm, full lips whispered across her mouth, not pushing for a response.
She pressed closer, her hand flattening on the burning skin covering his chest, as her own lips softened under his.
Before the kiss could even start, he raised his head, lightly tracing her lips with his tongue and then sat back, studying her face.
She knew her eyes reflected her internal confusion when she caught the flash of male triumph in his gaze. Straightening slowly, she moved so his hand no longer held her neck. “Don’t,” her voice was almost a whisper. “I’m not up to this right now.”
“For now,” he agreed, his voice equally quiet.
She dropped her eyes, veiling the swirling emotions, and began putting things back into the first aid kit in her lap.
He reached out and absently stroked his fingers over the old scars on her wrist.
Her hands stilled.
When she went to stand up, his hand shackled her wrist. “Some of that blood isn’t mine.” He nodded to the rust colored stains standing out starkly on her white, fleeced shirt. “How bad is it?”
She twisted her wrist slightly, escaping his restraining fingers. “They’re just nicks. It’s not all mine.” Moving to the counter, she put the kit back in its drawer. “Let me show you where you can sleep.”
He wisely kept his mouth shut.
Despite being keenly aware of his presence as he followed her down the left-hand hall to the second bedroom, she managed to hold her composure together as she opened the door. The king bed, covered in a patchwork quilt of faded red and blues, dominated the far wall. A nightstand holding a lamp sat tucked on one side. Against the near wall a set of drawers sat under a mirror. She showed him where the extra towels were so he could take a shower.
Wishing him a good night, she left him and headed into her room at the end of the hall. Shutting her door softly, she leaned her head against the smooth wood. She fought back the small voice urging her to open the door and follow through on his earlier unspoken invitation. Refusing to acknowledge the regret swirling inside her, she reached down and turned the lock. The quiet sound echoed softly down the hall.
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07KM1578Y/
Amazon AUS: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B07KM1578Y/
If you could dress up as anything or anyone this Halloween, what or who would it be and why?
Oohh, that’s a good question. Let’s see, I love Maleficent, especially the way her character’s portrayed by Angelina Jolie in the latest movies. Mainly because she’s not the straight-up evil goddess from Disney, but a multi-dimensioned character driven by various factors towards decisions that may be viewed as being ‘bad’ but in reality are actually heart-felt, if a touch mis-guided. She’s one of my favorite type of characters (a gray character), who’s more human even as she’s a kick-butt supernatural.
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Jami Gray is the coffee addicted, music junkie, Queen Nerd of her personal Geek Squad, Alpha Mom of the Fur Minxes, and award-winning author of the Urban Fantasy series, The Kyn Kronicles, the Paranormal Romantic Suspense series, PSY-IV Teams, and her latest Romantic Suspense series, Fate’s Vultures. She writes to soothe the voices in her head.
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Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Jami-Gray/e/B006HU3HJI