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Check out the cover I made for Kat and Mouse!!

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over the knee high heeled boots

 

Me! I made it! All by myself!

That’s all.

(Oh, and you can buy the book for .99 right here Yay!!!)

Rebirth – Grim Reaper style…

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In 2009 I wrote a book called Death, The Vamp and his Brother. I loved this book. Loved it. It is still one of my favourites. It won The Romance Studio’s 2009 Best Erotic Paranormal Novel. But it never really found an audience. Perhaps because readers didn’t know what to make of it? Maybe it was the title Death, The Vamp and his Brother. Let’s be serious,  it’s silly. It doesn’t–didn’t–portray the theme of the book at all, and the theme of the book is destiny and how it has its dark way with us.

So when Samhain Publishing asked me a few months ago if I wanted to re-release it a month before the second book in the series (Dark Embrace), I said yes. When they asked if I would be happy with a new cover, I said YES. When they aksed if I’d be okay with changing the title I laughed. Did I want to change the title? YES!!! When it was decided Dark Destiny was to be the new title, I got very excited.

And then I was sent this cover:

DarkDestiny300

And my excitement went through the roof. Is that not one of the sexiest covers you’ve ever seen?

Today I received Dark Destiny‘s first review. And once again, my excitement shot through the roof.

“DARK DESTINY is a very intriguing, very hot book. You have sexy Death who prefers you call her Fred, a normal Aussie surfer/lifeguard, vampires, a Principatus and a really gross first horseman, who could ask for more? Oh yes did I mention the burning sheets or walls or wherever they landed and the unexpected realization that Death can actually fall in love. Lexxie Couper has come up with a fantastic world and I hope to visit it many more times.” – Fresh Fiction Reviews

(I know, Death, the Vamp and his Brother had been reviewed often but as of this point, Death, the Vamp and his Brother no longer exists *grin*)

It’s not often a book gets a second chance at life, but I guess it’s fitting with Dark Destiny…after all the vampire in Dark Destiny, Ven, was meant to die but he didn’t. He got a second chance… And as for Patrick, the hero…wow, you won’t BELIEVE the second life he gets.

Blurb

The Apocalypse can’t stop desire like this. Can it?

Principatus, Book 1

Death exists for one purpose and one purpose only: to sever the life-threads of the living. She does her job with pride and an unwavering commitment. Nothing ruffles her. Until she encounters Patrick Watkins.

The Australian lifeguard pushes all her buttons—and makes her tailbone itch like crazy. And when her tailbone itches, it means trouble is brewing. Big trouble.

As far as Patrick’s concerned, everything Death tells him is a load of bull. But what if she’s right? How is he expected to save mankind from the worst fate of all—the Apocalypse? Especially when all he can think about is how quickly he’s falling in love with the most feared Horseman of them all…

Warning: This book contains enough heresy to shame the Devil, more scorching sex than one person can handle, Two sexy Australian brothers and lots of Australian colloquialism. A bloody lot of Australian colloquialism.

EXCERPT

Fred noticed three things straight away. Patrick Watkins was looking directly at her, he was stark naked and he was semi-aroused.

By the Powers, he’s huge.

“Who the hell are you?”

His deep, angry growl made her jump. She stared at his face—his face, Fred, his face—her mouth dry. “You can see me!”

“Of course, I can see you. And I saw you at the beach today.” Sharp green eyes narrowed. “What the fuck did you do to my drowning victim?”

Fred clenched her jaw, giving the human before her a level look. “For your information, your drowning victim was a pedophile.”

A shimmer of disgust ignited in Patrick Watkins’ dark green eyes before he clenched his own jaw. “Mr. Peabody was alive until you touched him.”

Fred cocked her head to the side, trying like hell to ignore the fact that the man seemed to have forgotten he was naked—and still partially erect. Ignore it? How do you ignore something that impressive? “Yes, I must say, you did a very good job resurrecting him from his initial passing. But it was his time and no interference, no matter how skilled or stubborn, would have saved him.”

Patrick’s eyes widened. “Interference? His time?” Anger flared in his unwavering stare. “Who the fuck are you? The Grim Reaper?”

Fred inclined her head slightly. “Just call me Fred.”

“Well, Fred.” Patrick took a step toward her, the anger in his face growing dark. Menacing. “I’d saved him. I don’t care how bloody sexy you are, or who you think you are, he was alive until you touched him. What the hell did you do to him?”

Fred’s heart stopped for a split second, before pounding triple-time. Sexy? A grin stretched her lips and a wild flutter erupted between her thighs. He thought she was sexy.

He also thinks you’re a murderer.

She pulled a face, crossing her arms across her chest. Her nipples brushed against her forearms, sending a little jolt of damp electricity into the pit of her belly and she bit back a curse. How was it possible this one mortal male made her so horny? “I really can’t explain it all to you,” she snapped, irked by her body’s irrational response and Patrick Watkins’ not-so-irrational agitation. “Just know Peabody is in a much more deserving place now he’s gone.”

Patrick cocked an eyebrow. “So, what? You’re a vigilante?”

Fred ground her teeth. “As I’ve already said, I can’t explain it.”

“Try. Before I call the cops.”

Fred couldn’t help herself. She burst out laughing. “The cops?”

Black anger flashed across Patrick’s face. “Look, love, you’ve got exactly twenty seconds to give me an answer, or I’ll knock you on your arse, tie you to the bed and let the authorities deal with you when they get here.”

A hot, wet wave of sinful pleasure rolled through Fred at the idea of Patrick Watkins tying her to the bed. Damn. She’d never gone down that path of sexual gratification before, but the Australian lifeguard made her body fantasize about all sorts of things it hadn’t before. All of them very, very wicked. “Patrick Watkins,” she said, unable to stop her gaze roaming over his naked body. “I would like nothing more than to see you try.”

Another wave of fury—and something else far more primitive—charged his expression. “Okay. If that’s the way it’s going to be.”

He moved. Much quicker than Fred expected. Much quicker than any human should. One moment he stood glaring at her from beside his bedroom door, the next he was slamming her against the wall, his fingers locked around her wrists, his hips rammed into hers.

Immediate and absolute pleasure tore through her. Dark, intoxicating, submissive pleasure. Her sex constricted, her breath caught in her throat. She’d never been handled so. Even her Roman had treated her with kid gloves, like he’d been too scared of her to truly show how much she’d aroused him. Patrick Watkins however, knew no reason to be scared of her. And it made her sex flood with cream.

By the Powers, she wanted to fuck him and be fucked by him.

The licentious thought whipped through her head and, before she knew what was going on, her jeans, boots and t-shirt vanished. Leaving her just as naked as the man pressing her against the wall with his hard body.

He froze, his fingers digging into her wrists, his cock grounding against her belly. “What. The fuck. Is going on?”

***

You can buy Dark Destiny from Samhain, Amazon, Barnes and Noble and lots of other ebook resellers

Savage Transformation AVAILABLE NOW

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Woot!

So it’s out there. It’s live. Is the world ready for shapeshifting Tasmanian Tigers, a feisty Aussie heroine, a gorgeous take-no-prisoners Texan hero and a ruthless hunter with his eye firmly on his prey?

I hope so, cause Savage Transformation is LIVE.
Savage Transformation is the second book in my Savage Australia series. When I first wrote Savage Retribution (a looooong looooong four years ago) this tiny little detective from Sydney made a very small appearance. Detective Jackie Huddart had a secret. She was only on the pages of Savage Retribution for all of about 1 and a half of them, but I knew, knew, there was more to her than she was letting on. I didn’t know what it was, but she was hiding something. Something big.
Here’s Jackie when we first meet her in Savage Retribution
A tiny woman appeared through a massive, white marble archway to his left, her petite, grey-suited frame positively dwarfed by the excess around her. She crossed the floor between the arch and Peter in long, confident strides, the sound of her sensible heels a drum tattoo in the silent house. She drew closer, and Peter made out a smattering of freckles across a pixie-like nose under light brown eyes completely free of make-up. Beside him, Yolanda gave a most inaudible snort. “Dressed by Wal-Mart,” he heard his partner snarl under her breath, German accent thicker than normal.

Peter glared at her and she curled her lip at him.

“Detective Thomas?”

He turned back to the tiny woman and for the first time noticed the Glock in its holster beside her left breast.

You’re slipping. Vischka’s more under your skin that you realise.

“Yeah, I’m Thomas.” He held out his hand. “You’re Huddart?”

Detective Huddart nodded, shaking his hand. “Please, call me Jackie.”

Behind him, he heard Yolanda growl. Low and soft.

Jackie Huddart raised her eyebrows, studying his partner with obvious indifference before seemingly dismissing her altogether. “Did you know your sister was missing, Detective?”

Peter’s chest grew tight. Yes he did. And what had he’d been doing? Fantasizing about a femme fatale like a bad Hollywood gumshoe.

Huddart nodded her head again, obviously not needing an answer. “She’s left you a message upstairs.” Without pausing to see if he followed, she turned and climbed the large staircase dominating the foyer, tiny frame moving up each step with fluid, compact grace.

A hand fell on Peter’s shoulder, followed by Yolanda’s warm breath on his ear. Unreadable blue eyes held his. “Well?”

The contact got his feet moving. In what seemed like three giant steps he stood beside Huddart in a luxurious bathroom twice the size of his own bedroom, towering over her and staring at a message written in some sort of black marker on the wall-to-wall mirror over the sunken bathtub. He swallowed, throat tight and mouth dry.

Det. 45217

Heading Nth

Not hurt

Rex?

Peter read the message again.

“Do you know who Rex is?”

Peter traced the hastily written words on the mirror, recognizing Reggie’s relaxed penmanship. “My sister’s pet lizard,” he answered Huddart. “If anyone called my Area Command and mentioned Rex, Command would know immediately Reggie was somehow involved.”

“Ahh, that explains how Sydney City Dispatch knew the message was from your sister then.” Huddart nodded. “The question mark threw us. We thought it may have been code for something.”

He gave her a quick glance. “Do you know when it was written?”

The petite detective shook her head. “The neighbors across the road contacted us fifty minutes ago. They saw the owner’s XKR Jaguar exit the garage, driven by a male, between the ages of 35 and 40, black hair, Caucasian. They were a little bit suspicious because the owner is bald, in his sixties and apparently in New York.”

The click of six-inch heels on tile announced Yolanda’s arrival. As did the musky scent of her perfume invading Peter’s breath. He turned to her, body wanting to respond to her enigmatic presence. He controlled it. But with far greater effort than it should have required.

A cool, blue unreadable gaze flicked over him before she focused her attention on the mirror. “Kohl?” she asked, although it sounded more like a statement.

Huddart nodded. “Looks that way.”

Peter read the message again. Not hurt.

What did Not hurt mean? Reggie was okay? A willing part of the whole thing? Was he missing something? And what did the mention of her lizard mean? Was she trying to tell him something, or just thinking about everyone else—including the bloody reptile—before herself again? “Do we have a track on the Jag yet?”

“Not yet. Area Command is still trying to contact the owner. He’s proving a little tricky to track down. The car has a GPS based security system but we need the access PIN.” A shadow of sorrow crossed Huddart’s otherwise detached expression. “It shouldn’t be long.” She paused. “Do you know who has your sister?”

Peter’s chest clamped tight. The Irishman? McCoy? He shook his head. “No.”

He turned to see Yolanda’s reaction to his answer.

And found the doorway behind him empty.

“Do you know why someone would abduct her?”

Huddart’s question snapped his attention away from his partner’s unexpected absence. “She’s trodden on some powerful people’s toes.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, stare fixed on Reggie’s message.

Not hurt.

Heading Nth.

“Such as?”

Peter huffed out a sigh. “Anyone who conducts animal testing knows who my sister is. She’s had more than one cosmetic company CEO in—”

Huddart’s cell phone burst into life and, pulling it from her jacket, she held up a pointed finger to Peter: “One moment.”

Can you see what I mean? There was something about the way she made Yolanda prickle that made me wonder just who and what Jackie was. (Those that have read Savage Retribution will know Yolanda had her own secret.)

It took almost two years before Jackie decided to share her secret with me. And boy, what a secret.

Savage Transformation tells of that secret. As well as a few more. And then some. Along the way, there’s lust, desire and danger (this is after all, a Lexxie Couper book *grin*)

After waaaay too many years Savage Transformation releases today at Samhain and is also available on Kindle. But I guess that’s Jackie for you. She’s done a very very good job of keeping secrets 😉