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He’ll grant her one wish…. What if she wishes for him?
When Moira Connor stumbles across a jewel-encrusted silver trinket in the desert, she plans to trade it for food. Then the brush of her fingers unleashes a surprise….
Freed from the lamp, Boone is bound to the woman who called him with her touch. She has one day to make a wish before he disappears forever. But Moira lives in the ruins of a world destroyed by witches. She hates magic—even when it comes in the shape of a dazzlingly gorgeous djinn. Will the exquisite pleasure of Boone’s caresses be enough to earn Moira’s trust? And will Moira be able to save Boone from the malevolent creature who would possess him?
LAUREN HAWKEYE is a writer, yoga newbie, knitting aficionado and animal lover who lives in the shadows of the great Rocky Mountains of Alberta, Canada. She’s older than she looks–really–and younger than she feels–most of the time–and she loves to explore the journeys that take women through life in her stories. Hawkeye’s stories include erotic historical, steamy paranormal, and hot contemporary.
Awaken to Pleasure
Lauren Hawkeye
MILLS & BOON
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For Suzanne Rock, without whom I could not write.
Thank you for picking up Awaken to Pleasure! This story is a bit of a departure from the books that I normally write, in which the creatures that go bump in the night are a secret from all of humanity. For this story, I tried to create a world in which the existence of supernaturals isn’t hidden. The result was a place where humans were no longer the dominant species—and where even in a world where witches are commonplace, there can still be surprises for the heroine.
I hope you will enjoy Boone and Moira’s story! I love to hear from my readers, and can be contacted through my website, www.laurenhawkeye.com
Best,
Lauren
Table of Contents
Fifteen Years Ago
Moira Connor remembered the fire.
The dark sky, the ash that rained down, soft and hot, choking her with every breath until she wanted to rip open her own throat, just to get some blessed relief.
The fire had been all consuming—the unnatural emerald and amethyst flames devouring everything in its path. Its light had all but blinded her as she cowered in the corner of what had once been an alley between buildings.
The entire city of Jackson was being annihilated by the fire.
But she hadn’t been blind enough to miss seeing what had been done to her parents. The witches had burned them alive, right before her eyes, and Moira hadn’t been able to save them. Hadn’t even tried, because she been so paralyzed by fear that she’d run.
Not that she could have done anything. She knew that now, and yet it haunted her every waking moment—and sometimes the sleeping ones as well.
It was guilt of the survivor. But she should have died with them. And the only reason she hadn’t was because of a man—a man with a pair of bright blue eyes.
If she ever found that man, she would kill him. Moira would rather be dead, after all.
Instead, she was still alive when, numb with grief, she and the other survivors of what the world had come to call the Great Witch War struggled to pick up the pieces of their existence, to save the last of their race. She scavenged on the streets, seeking out bits of treasure to barter for food while those who were able tried to protect their kind from the witches who would leach the energy from every last one of them.
And now she was a prisoner in one of these shelters. Those who lived in the enclosed villages called them havens, but she knew better.
They were prisons. Incarceration for those who had done nothing more than act on the basic human instinct to survive.
And so Moira existed, helping those who couldn’t
