Annie Nicholas

Writing Romances with Bite

 Irresistible

 

Werewolves believe in soul mates. Sirens eat theirs.

Sirens, a mutation of mermaids, need sexual energy to survive. Marie Laframboise lost her only food source when her strip club burned down. Not wanting to kill any of her victims, she’d learned to glean the lust off her clients, and now she is starving. She can’t resist the temptation to invite herself to the singles shifter party held by local werewolf stud, Maxwell Cox, and feed.

Max doesn’t want a soul mate, but to his dismay, she shows up at his party. Just as Marie can’t resist the temptation to feed, Max can’t resist the instinctual urge to claim her. Marie has never wanted a relationship, but she can’t shake off Max’s pursuit. He offers her things she has only dreamed of, but she fears the hunger will turn those dreams into nightmares.

Her appetite is not one to mess with. Max thinks he’s found the perfect mate, but Marie may have found the perfect prey.

WARNING: Graphic sexual content, hot shifters, and one scary-ass siren.

 

 

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Excerpt

 

A few more strokes of her tail brought Marie Laframboise to the shallows. She grimaced as her hands struck the soft sand at the bottom. Now, she would have to flop onto the shore like a fat seal to dry off and change into her human form. God forbid if one of those stuck-up fur ball shifters saw her.

She tossed the bikini bottoms clutched in her hand onto the deserted, narrow beach before struggling out of the water. Some mermaids could change their fins to legs in the water, but she wasn’t one of them.

Lying on her back, she stared at the stars and caught her breath, then concentrated on the image of legs. It itched at first, as if bugs crawled under her scales. A burning sensation followed, which made her jaws clench, and a whimper escaped her. Once her feet and toes could wiggle, she knew the transformation was over.

If her people had never tossed her out of their underwater city, she would not have chosen to walk on the dirt.

Starvation would force a person to do crazy things though, like crash werewolf parties. But the hunger that drove her from home also drove her here.

When merpeople reached adolescence most grew into beautiful, nimble adults with long, flowing fins, smooth hands, and normal sexual appetites.

Less than one percent grew into something different, something feared.

Sirens had haunted the oceans for centuries, preying upon both land and sea creatures, using their pheromones to attract victims, and feeding upon the energy created by their sexual desires. Exterminated almost to extinction, very few still existed, yet every generation some were born among the proud merpeople, only to be murdered once discovered. Marie’s parents couldn’t kill their only child when her nails had grown into graceful claws, her teeth to delicate fangs and her little fin to a predator’s sleek, strong tail. Beautiful and deadly. Her parents had hidden her on the land, with no one to teach her how to feed the hunger that grew inside of her.

Lost among the humans, she’d learned the hard way what kind of damage a siren could cause. For the longest time her hunger controlled her actions, and she left a trail of dead lovers. With age came wisdom, and she found another way to survive. One that concealed her monstrous nature. Too bad the fire had consumed her strip club, her only source of food.

The teasing scent of arousal, her dinner, called. She slipped on the bikini bottoms that matched her top and rose from the sand.

Letting her hunger get this severe was irresponsible. She hated to kill. Getting rid of the bodies proved more difficult as law enforcement grew more modern. Gone were the days of a quickie. It only led to being hunted like prey. Tonight could have been a national disaster, since frail humans didn’t have the stamina to survive her appetites.

A howl split the night air as she crept toward the house. Werewolves, on the other hand, proved to be quite resilient and delicious, like bacon wrapped filet mignon dipped in gravy. She licked her lips.