Wednesday, May 28, 2014

Meet Rand Lorca Mitchell

Meet Rand Lorca Mitchell from 
Unforgivable, Immortal Redeemer—Book 1

What kind of job do you have? I’m an Immortal Redeemer, you could say I’m a hunter of sorts. I hunt humans mostly, they tend to be the cruelest of creatures. Don’t get me wrong, there are naturally bad animals and I wipe them out just as quickly. Rand stretched his long legs, crossed his ankles, and wondered what the hell he’d gotten himself into. His fingernails played rata-tat-tat on the arms of the chair.

Describe yourself in three words. I. Smell. Good. You said three words, right? Rand chuckled. Damn good in fact. We emit a scent discerned by humans with an affinity for animals. They think it’s a new cologne on the market. If my father hadn’t left me well off, I could bottle the shit and make a fortune hawking it on the streets. Hawking, now there’s a play on words for you. I’m a hawk shifter.

Who is your love interest? Nola Lester. Jesus, just saying her name makes me hard. Rand reached for his crotch. She’s curvy, sexy, sassy, and a bitch sometimes, but, damn, the woman makes my blood rush like a rain-swollen river after a storm. Let me give you a bit of advice—keep your gun locked up if she’s around.

Do you like using sex toys? What? Nola’s got me, why would she need a toy. Of course, if she wanted to use one, I wouldn’t in the least bit be averse to helping her with it.

Top or bottom? Top, sideways, from behind, Nola’s neck in my face. Christ, be careful what you ask me. Rand rolled his shoulders, sent a mental shove to keep his hawk under control. Something about the raptor inside me, hell, it’s an animal and when Nola bares her neck for me, says more than anything I have her trust. You know, the neck is very vulnerable, and the first thing an animal goes for in a kill.

How did you and Nola meet? She fucking shot me! Can you believe that shit? Caught me in the woods on my knees taking care of business and out of nowhere comes this hellion in a wispy little nightgown, wearing pink bunny slippers, waving a gun around…damn, she was hot.

Do you have any pets? Every animal falls under my protection. Does that count?

Whipped cream or Marshmallow? Potato chips, preferably Herr’s, peferably hot.

Are you a night person or a morning person? Day, night, sun, stars—both are beautiful when you can damn near touch the sky.

What do you like to wear to bed? What do you think?

Boxers or briefs? Rand shrugged. I prefer the freedom of boxers, but nothing wrong with a brief, you know, a little added control helps sometimes. Are we done?

You and Nola are stranded overnight in a cabin, what would you do to pass the time? You know where we live? Rand let enough of the hawk emerge to flash round, gold-rimmed, bird’s eyes at the interviewer. We’re not stranded, we live in that cabin year round. Suits Nola, suit’s my purpose just fine. Don’t come messing around in our woods. You might not like what you find there. Now, I’m done.

Would you share the blurb from your story?

One careless shot in the dark, and their lives collided.

Nola Lester finally had enough of life in the city’s fast lane. She needed to get away, get back to her roots, but tending a wounded hunter whose controlling and charismatic personality triggered strange desires threatened Nola’s plans. Perhaps changing her agenda may not be such a bad idea.

Rand Mitchell anticipated relaxing in the secluded mountains he felt drawn to year after year. There would be no rescuing animals or hunting humans, just peace and quiet while searching for clues to explain the mystery of who he is. Instead, Rand found himself ensnared by a sharp-tongued spitfire more than willing to provide a diversion.

Neither of them knew what a deadly creature she held in the palm of her hand.

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J Hali Steele
Growl and roar-it’s okay to let the beast out.

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