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Make Me Burn
Book 2, Fireborne Series
Aziza Jane Stewart is the last
of the Fireborne, and so far it’s been nothing but a curse, destroying her
family and putting everyone she loves in danger. Now she’s on a quest to find
her brother’s portion of the power that flows in her veins and track down the
murdering Jiniyr who are a threat to her loved ones.
She and her Enforcer lover
Brandon are officially “in a relationship”, but she’s still torn between two
men who both set her on fire. Brandon’s duties are driving a wedge between
them, and her need to protect her Jinn guardian isn’t helping. Exiled and
stripped of his powers, Ram is focused on satisfying his darkest urges…and
tempting her to come along for the ride.
When Aziza discovers Brandon
has been keeping news of ritualistic murders from her and the evidence is
pointing at Ram, all bets are off. It’s time to find her own answers, embrace
what’s inside her and make her own rules, damn the consequences.
Warning: Explicit content, and even more danger and heavy
drinking than book one. Fetish clubs and role-play, whips and chains, voyeurism
and exhibitionism. More inappropriate use of supernatural powers for deviant
activities. In other words, burning down the house.
Excerpt:
Copyright © 2014 R.G. Alexander
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication
It’s almost time. All you have
to do is let go.
No. If she let go she would fall.
Adrenaline made every muscle in
Aziza’s taut, outstretched body tremble and her grip tighten instinctively on
the silk fabric, the only thing keeping her from crashing to the floor far
below.
Her mind was flooded by the
memory of falling backward carelessly and plummeting from Penn’s roof with her
arms wide. Though the world had gone black, before she realized it, Ram had
saved her from crashing into the unforgiving ground.
He wouldn’t save her this time.
He wouldn’t need to. Things were different now.She was different.
A small handful of people
standing beneath her craned their necks, waiting in absolute silence to see
what would happen next. They wouldn’t save her either, but she had their
undivided attention.
Show them how to live. Let
go…or I will.
Pushing away that disturbing
thought, Aziza listened for the cue of the music through the pounding of blood
in her ears. When she heard it, she relaxed her pose and let go of the silk.
Her body dropped, twirling down, the floor rising up to meet her so swiftly
that to the untrained eye it may have seemed accidental. But she was in complete
control. That was the point. She wasn’t falling. She was in
control.
Of this, if not her love life.
If not of the Jinn or the Niyr or her emotions. Of this, if nothing else.
The silk that had been coiled
purposefully around her waist was now held in both her hands as she swung her
legs upward and wrapped the fabric around her ankles. The swaying rigging
helped as she used her body’s weight and momentum to spin in a dizzying circle
through the air.
Flying.
The music she’d brought to
practice on the aerial silks—a club-style remix of “Come Josephine in My Flying
Machine”—reminded her with every precise movement who she was. The vocals were
haunting, the beat hard and invigorating.
Discordant.
It was how she felt. Just a
little…off. Not completely herself. She was missing something.
Brandon. She wavered on the silks before pushing him out of her
mind. The song. Focus on the song.
The tune from her nightmarish
dreams had now become a sort of anthem, a melody meant to keep her mindful of
what she’d done…what she’d been told she still needed to do. The more she
listened to it, the more familiar it became. Not only from the dream, but from
a childhood memory that remained frustratingly out of reach. Sometimes she saw
flashes of laughter and her father’s smiling, bearded face, but nothing else.
She never forgot anything.
Every word she’d heard spoken and every moment in her life was filed away and
easily accessible in her mind. Even the memories she’d rather not keep—like the
lifeless eyes of last night’s victim—would always be with her. So why was this
apparently happy memory eluding her?
Her arms and legs straightened
as they’d been trained to do, slowing her spin and pulling her body up with a
strength she’d never had before, a strength that had only grown in the last few
weeks, giving her this newfound agility.
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