Is he the man of her dreams…or her worst nightmare?
All Katy Lyndhurst wants is a normal suburban Sleepy Hollow life, despite the strange things that keep happening to her. Blistering hot erotic dreams bleed into her waking hours, making her yearn for her dream lover to materialize. When her sexy dream voyager, Ryck, shows up in the flesh and ignites her steamiest passions, she wonders if he's a sultry fantasy conjured by her fevered brain…or something much more dangerous?
Centuries ago, a wicked succubus cursed Ryck Van Winkle to fulfill the desires of sleeping women while unable to take pleasure himself. Only Katy possesses the power to break the spell and awaken him. But Ryck’s defiance sparks the demon’s fury, causing supernatural portals to crumble and allowing demonic minions to threaten Katy and her world.
Now Katy and Ryck must battle the forces of darkness together. But will Ryck will be trapped forever in her Sleepy Hollow Dreams?
Rated 1 Rose
Miniature Rose (108 pages)
Galloping hoof beats pursued her down the old post road.
Ghostly hoof beats. The legendary Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow.
With deadly purpose.
Faster and faster.
Katy ran on, her sides cramping. Her flip-flops smacked asphalt but the clop of the demonic hooves echoed louder. She clattered into the street as the sidewalk ended, and gasped for air.
A piece of one rubber thong broke and she stumbled, tripping onto the grassy median bordering Sleepy Hollow Cemetery. Her shriek ripped through the quiet suburban village. Utter fatigue claimed her, halting her steps. She collapsed in exhaustion, her sleep-drenched mind blanking as she fell.
Hard-muscled arms scooped her up before she hit the ground. The horse’s unearthly scream ripped through her as the beast thundered past. Her rescuer clasped her against his broad, masculine chest. A familiar glow of warmth stole over her, filling her with a sense of peace and security...
Beneath her ear, a strong heartbeat pulsed, quickening in time to the increased thudding of her own. His autumn scent seduced her as he swept her away, his long-legged strides purposeful and sure. She rested her cheek against his shoulder, her head fitting perfectly in the hollow of his neck. Her fear ebbed, replaced by desire.
A large hand slid over her breasts, her nipples already taut and straining with need against the thin cotton of her dress. She arched into him, rubbing herself against him like a cat in heat, rewarded by his harsh gasp and the ragged hitch in his breathing.
Moments later he carried her into the cemetery, and she felt the soft October earth, rich and spongy, at her back. Large, manly hands made quick work of the few clothes she wore.
“I’m dreaming,” she murmured.
“No. Not this time. Open your eyes.”