From a very young age, Amber Skyze began making up stories–the only child syndrome. Telling tall tales to all her friends she never dreamed of putting words on paper. In fact if anyone asked her if she would write when she grew up, she’d have laughed.
It wasn’t until raising children and reading all those romances that she decided–hey, I can write these. HA! Easier said than done.
When not crafting hot, steamy tales, this New York transplant now resides in Rhode Island with her husband, four children (who force her to work a day job), and three dogs.
She currently writes for Ellora’s Cave, Loose Id and is self-published.
In an odd Wiccan shop in Salem, Jael pulls an unusual stone from a witch’s wish bag. Little does she know her wildest dreams of becoming a respected photojournalist and enjoying a torrid affair with two gorgeous co-workers are about to come true—in spades.
Jael’s dreamy boss, Roarke offers her the photo assignment of a lifetime – a safari to Mount Kilimanjaro. The African scenery is stunning but even more so is the unexpected arrival of her two office crushes, Roarke and Kypton.
Alone for the first time, things heat up fast. Just as the trio is getting steamy at a beautiful waterfall, fate intervenes. The guys are forced to take dragon form and abduct a terrified Jael. She's whisked away to their mountain liar on Kilimanjaro.
The cave is really a love nest. Jael becomes the semi-willing captive of two Marduko dragon men. She discovers the truth about their origins and explores the many erotic possibilities two devoted lovers can offer.
The men want to claim her forever and expect a lifetime commitment. Jael’s thoroughly seduced but doesn’t know the guys are withholding a life or death secret that will push her heart to the limits.
Jael closed her fingers around the stone and thought of another man who worked with her—Kypton. Kypton was quiet and aloof with most everyone in the department, but his gaze followed her longingly every time she walked past.
When she told her friends she liked the manager of the IT department, they teased her relentlessly. They couldn’t picture her with a computer geek. Thing was, Kypton was the furthest thing from a computer geek. She understood why they immediately thought of someone with glasses, a shirt buttoned up tight to the neck, and a pocket protector sticking out of his shirt pocket. That wasn’t Kypton.
What her friends and others in her office seemed to miss was that beneath the subdued exterior, Kypton was smoking hot with pale blond hair and baby blue eyes. His voice carried the softest hint of northern Europe. He pronounced e’s as a’s, and she wondered if Kypton had gone to school in Switzerland or lived near there as a child.
Occasionally she was fortunate enough to peek down his collar and glimpse the silky blond hair on his chest. His broad shoulders and well-defined chest stood out in anything he wore. His arms looked like he frequented the gym, and those fitted khakis he favored as office wear gave her a view of a sexy, tight ass. A hint of smoldering physicality simmered just below the surface as if he were completely capable of picking her up, carrying her into a quiet storage room, and banging her senseless. At least that was what she hoped. She concluded the other women in her office must be blind or foolish not to notice Kypton’s potential.
Kypton seemed thoughtful and sensitive too, which was a huge plus. He’d jumped in to help her on numerous occasions, often staying late at work to do so. He also avoided all office gossip or conflicts and went out of his way to help others before he was even asked, which she found pretty damn attractive.
All in all Kypton was a dreamy guy, even if he might appear a bit sedate.
Only problem was Roarke attracted her too.
Roarke was Kypton’s opposite. Roarke was outgoing and authoritative. When he entered the room, others stopped what they were doing to listen. Though he was a manager, he had an artistic, wild vibe about him that was exciting to be near. He dressed well in bold colors like earthy orange or rich purple. It was a treat to watch him walk past her desk and catch a whiff of his subtle citrusy aftershave—that was, if he ever really shaved. His square jaw seemed perpetually stubbled in a grainy, sexy sort of way.
Roarke had coppery skin and the swarthy good looks of a Barbary pirate chief. She half fantasized he was the son of some powerful khan and his mother was some delicate-boned beauty. Roarke was both puzzling and stunning to look at. His sleek nose and chiseled bone structure made his origins difficult to guess. She wondered if there was a tribe of exotically perfect people hiding somewhere on a long-forgotten island, who sneaked away from their hidden paradise now and then to work as office managers.
As a natural leader, Roarke drew people to his side with ease. He spoke passionately with his expressive hands and cognac-brown eyes as much as he did with words. Anything earthy and creative interested him—nature, movies, paintings, or books, he loved them all. His apartment contained a dazzling array of fine books and an impressive collection of beautiful artifacts displayed in lit niches.
A visit to his apartment was not only a physical thrill; it was mentally stimulating to the artist in her to look at the many things he’d collected over the years. Roarke seemed to live in such a different world from the average person, and she longed be to invited in.
Roarke worked as a manager in the human resource department of International Explorer magazine and network. He was well respected and very much in demand.
She’d foolishly told Roarke on the first date she had no intention of getting involved with a coworker, so maybe some of the distance between them was her fault. She wanted to take it back. What a dummy she was for saying that.
That wasn’t to say nothing had happened between them. It had. Twice after a dreamy museum date or trip to the movies on Roarke’s birthday, the date had ended with both of them unable to keep their hands off each other.
Roarke had picked her up, carried her into his bedroom, tossed her onto his amethyst sheets, and lavished her with the best oral she’d ever had. Roarke was a total sensualist and seemed to know exactly what she needed to come hard. She’d loved every second of writhing in his firm but loving grasp and was eager to reciprocate.
She just wasn’t sure where she stood with him. A date once in a while was for chumps. Maybe he was waiting for her to admit that she did want to get involved with a coworker before pursuing her a little harder.