Thursday 1 September 2016


September 1st has arrived and Blaze (the second in the Dark In You series) has been officially released! In addition, the first book, Burn, is now available on paperback. I've got a giveaway going on my Facebook page if you're interested. For anyone who has no idea what book or series I'm talking about, you can check out my trailer below...

Here is the synopsis for Blaze...

Defeat the enemy. Win the boy. Live happily ever after.But life "ever after" isn't as easy as it used to be. Harper's gone from being a member of a small demon lair to co-Prime of one of the most powerful lairs in the US with a mate who, though hot as hell, is just a mite overprotective - I mean, you get kidnapped by dark practitioners just once . . .
Then one of Knox's demons goes rogue, and in his madness decides Knox Thorne must die.
Harper's worried. Knox isn't - at least until he discovers his mate's willingness to get between him and danger. Now, Knox has a new priority: Keep Harper safe . . . no matter what it takes.
But Harper begins to suspect there's more danger than one rogue demon. It seems the combined strength of Harper and Knox has upset the balance of power in the demon world and there are those who are determined to right that wrong.
Because when you move up the food chain, sometimes the other predators just want to take a bigger bite.

"Unique, original and very entertaining." Ramblings from this Chick

"It's been two minutes since my last fix and I need Suzanne Wright to give me more" Edgy Reviews

If you'd like to check out an excerpt, read on...


“Stop right there, bitch!”

Snapping her gaze from her cell phone to the pistol now aimed at her head, Harper Wallis froze. Well, shit. She couldn’t deny that she had some karma to burn off. She was no angel. Being a demon, she was quite the opposite, in fact. But having a gun pointed at her by a human with a shaky hand and dilated pupils that said he was drugged up to his eyes balls…well, it just felt like the universe was being a little unfair, that’s all.

“Put the phone on the ground!”

She so didn’t have time for this. She’d taken a quick break from work so she could head to the ATM—

“Put the phone on the ground!”

“Do I really have to?” The floor of the alley was covered in grime, cigarette butts, glass fragments, and dirty rain puddles. Then there were those dubious looking stains…

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

With an inward sigh, Harper slowly did as he asked.

Note to self: Stop taking shortcuts through alleys. It wasn’t exactly a scenic route with the dumpsters, trash bags, moldy walls, and scent of rotting food…although the graffiti was pretty cool. The artist definitely had potential.

“Hands up and keep them up!”

She raised her hands, all the while staring into blue eyes that flickered with nervousness. Sparky here wasn’t as confident as he was trying to appear. But he had every reason to feel at least a little confident. They were alone except for the rats, she was small where he was burly, and he had a weapon while she was unarmed—or, at least, that was what he thought. Not that the stiletto knife tucked into her boot was going to do her much good against a gun.

Really, she should know better. This area of North Las Vegas was high in crime…which, incidentally, was why her family fit right in. The Wallis demons were pretty notorious for doing exactly what all imps did: mostly lying, stealing, tricking, cheating, and of course breaking and entering. Although Harper was a sphinx like her mother, she’d been raised by her paternal family and was an imp by nature.

“Now throw me your purse!”

“You told me to keep my hands up,” she pointed out.

“Well, now I’m telling you to give me your damn purse.”

Okay, that was going to be a problem. It had been a gift, and she wasn’t going to hand it over to anyone.

Now, bitch!”

How rude. Not that he was wrong. She was a bitch and she took pride in it. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

His brows drew together. “What?”

“See, someone very important to me bought me this. I tell him not to keep buying me shit, but he doesn’t listen. He likes to spoil me, even though it makes me uncomfortable—”

A burger wrapper crumpled under his foot as he took an aggressive step forward, lips flattening. “Throw. Me. The. Purse.”

Her inner demon snarled, eager for Harper to either slit his throat or do something equally entertaining. Like shifters, demons had a dualism to the soul. Shifters shared their soul with an animal. Demons, however, shared theirs with a dark entity—an entity that was without conscience, possessed a strong sense of entitlement, and lacked both empathy and the ability to emotionally connect. “Come on, give a girl a break.”

“Oh, I’ll give you something,” he said, a lewd gleam in his eyes.

Like hell he would. A dark yet protective power unfurled from within her and rushed to her fingertips, making them prickle. Her demon urged her to release it on the human, but there were other ways of dealing with him.

“You don’t want the purse,” she said in the compelling tone that all sphinxes were gifted with, enabling them to confuse people. Satisfied when his eyes glazed over, she went on, “You don’t want to hurt me. You want to drop the gun.” She wished she could compel him to never do it again or to confess his crimes to the police, but her compulsions wouldn’t hold that long.

A car honked in the distance, making him jump, and the glaze fell from his eyes. “Give me the purse!”

“This is getting tedious.” She flinched at a loud bang. Motherfucker. The human had shot at the ground in front of her feet. She wasn’t sure if he’d purposely missed; she had no interest in finding out. Before that shaky hand could shoot again, she acted. Faster than he could ever hope to be, she whipped out her knife, kicked the gun out of his hand, slammed him into the wall, and put her blade to his throat.

Breaths quick and shallow, he stared at her through wide eyes. Well he’d be a lot more scared if she granted her demon’s request and infused hellfire into the knife. It would be pretty funny to watch his face go slack, but that would be exposing herself as inhuman and…and was it just her, or had the temperature dropped seriously quickly? It was also darkening fast. She looked up. A dark, heavy, ominous-looking cloud had formed—

Harper’s eyes snapped back to the human as a large, sweaty hand crushed her wrist and sharply yanked it, making her drop her blade. His free hand wrapped tight around her throat as he spun them, slamming her into the wall. The breath whooshed out of her lungs. Fisting her hair, he rammed the back of her skull against the wall, and there was the sickening sound of bone hitting brick. Spots danced in front of her eyes and a ringing sound filled her ears.

“Bitch!” He bit down hard into her cheek as he roughly tore open her fly.

Motherfucking bastard. She slapped her palm to his forehead, and the power prickling her fingertips shoved its way inside him. With an agonized sob, he dropped to his knees and slapped his hands against his head. A little on the dizzy side, she rapidly blinked. The bite mark on her cheek was throbbing like a bitch. Watching him whimper pathetically at her feet, she gently probed the lump that was quickly forming on the back of her head. Fucking ouch.

Giving up any pretense of being human, Harper crouched in front of him. “Do you know why one simple hit to your body took you down? Because my touch can cause soul-deep pain. I can’t really empathize, because I’ve never felt it myself. I’m told that the pain burns each nerve ending, cuts through each organ, slices through each bone and then lances through the very soul, making it feel like its shattering. Does it?” She was genuinely curious.

Eying her with a newfound terror, he clumsily scrabbled away from her.

Understandable, really.

His gaze fell to the gun, but it was too far away and he was in too much pain to get up.

“You might as well lose the dream of shooting me,” she told him, grabbing her cell phone off the floor and tucking it into her purse. “Now, what should I do with you?”

A cold wind blew through the air, flapping her t-shirt and causing her loose hair to whip at her face. Looking up, she saw that the murky cloud was bigger and darker. The air felt…charged, somehow. Wary, she slowly stood upright.

Ping. Ping. Ping.

Something hard and sharp bounced off her hand onto the concrete. Wincing, she frowned down at the small white ball. Hail. “Well, shit.”

In a matter of moments, a torrent of icy pellets was raining down on them, stinging the skin of her face and hands. She shrugged off her jacket and held it over her head. But, like the rest of her clothes, the material couldn’t protect her from the hard sting of the hailstones.

The deluge was deafening. Each pellet pounded into the ground, hammered into the garbage cans, and splashed out of the rain puddles. The pellets weren’t big, but the force of them was bad. They were no doubt chipping windows and denting cars all around.

Seriously, where the fuck had this storm come from? One minute the weather was mild, the next there was a hailstorm and she was freezing. If it was anything like the other recent strange storms, it would end as abruptly as it had begun.

She could hear raised voices coming from the end of the alley; watched as people scrambled to escape the torrent. She would have followed their lead and run for shelter, but there was good ole Sparky to consider. She was going to have to do something with the little bastard, who was now crawling toward the gun, proving yet again that he was indeed a bastard.

She kicked it far out of his reach, and it slid into a slushy puddle.

With a groan of defeat, he rolled onto his side and curled up into a fetal position, shielding his face with his thick arms. Like her, he was wet and his teeth were chattering. Maybe she should have felt bad for him but, well, she just didn’t. He’d freaking attacked her.

A very familiar mind slid against hers. Harper, where are you?

Even telepathically, her mate’s voice was like an erotic stroke to her senses. Hell, everything about Knox Thorne stroked her senses. But seriously, his smoky, velvety rumble was pure liquid sin.

Caught in a hailstorm, she told him. He was no doubt warm and dry in a conference room somewhere in Chicago.

I know you’re stuck in the storm. I want to know where exactly you are.

She frowned, wondering how he could possibly know. Now that the deluge had abruptly begun to slow, she scooped up her blade with cold fingers and returned it to the sheath inside her boot.

Tell me where you are; I’ll come for you.

Hearing another groan, she looked down at Sparky. He was shivering even worse than before. And Harper…yeah, she still wasn’t feeling bad for him. It’s sweet that you’d offer to pyroport all the way from Chicago, but it’s not necessary. Right now, she wouldn’t mind having that ability herself – traveling by fire would at least warm her up.

I’m at your studio, I’ve been waiting for you.

Well then it would seem that he’d cut his business trip short. But why? Uneasy, she asked, Is something wrong?

Harper, where are you?

She narrowed her eyes. You avoided my question.

You avoided mine.

Well yeah. The storm is actually easing off. The rumble of pellets had slowed to light individual pings. You don’t have to come for me.

Harper, he growled.

Okay, but you have to promise not to lose your shit. But considering she had bite marks on her cheek, a goose-egg on her head, and the buttons of her fly had been ripped off, there was little of chance of that. She wasn’t averse to seeing the sick-ass motherfucker on the ground die a painful death, but it was never a good thing for Knox Thorne to lose control.

Only a handful of people—including Harper—knew what breed of demon he was. Still, he was both feared and respected within the demon world since he was rumored to be the most powerful in existence; a demon that could call on the flames of hell. It was a rumor that very few knew to be true. And since nothing was impervious to the flames of hell, he could, literally, destroy the freaking world.

A vibe of anxiety touched her mind. Harper, where the fuck are you?

Sighing in resignation, she lowered her soaking wet jacket. The alley between the ATM and the Deli. An alley that was now dotted with icy pellets. Well at least it smelled better; ozone and water beat pigeon shit and grime any day of the week.

Fire roared to life a few feet away, causing Sparky to cry out in terror. The fire hissed and spat until the flames quickly calmed. And there was Knox. Piercing, deep-set ebony eyes locked on her, and the intense potency of his natural sex appeal swept over her, causing her body to hum. Well over six feet of danger, power, solid muscle, and a raw sexual magnetism, Knox Thorne was both a mouthwatering and intimidating sight.

As always, he looked like something out of GQ with his black tailored suit, sexily confident stance, and his short, dark stylishly cut hair. He exuded an aura of self-assurance that said he could handle any situation with total ease. At that moment, he was also radiating a fury that thickened the air. Crap.

“I’m fine,” she assured him.

“Nothing about this situation is fine,” said Knox, stalking toward her. He sounded completely calm. Composed. Casual. But she knew he was none of those things.

“What I mean is that I’m okay.” Albeit wet and cold.

“You’re soaked, shivering, and bleeding.” He lightly breezed his warm thumb over the skin beneath the throbbing marks on her cheek, and his fury became almost tangible. “The human’s mental shields are weak. I can see what he did to you, I can see what he planned.” Knox turned to the human, who was now shaking like a shitting dog. “You’ve mugged and raped many women, haven’t you? Young girls, too. You should have been put down long before now.”

Menace stamped into every line of Knox’s face, he grabbed the human by the throat and lifted him off the floor. The air chilled even further as his eyes bled to black – his inner demon was now in control. The entity had claimed her as its mate, though it didn’t ‘care’ for her; it lacked the emotional capacity to do so. But it had formed a very firm attachment to Harper. It was as possessive and protective as Knox. It viewed her as something it owned; something it had collected and intended to keep.

Glaring at the human through cold eyes, the demon spoke in a flat, disembodied voice that would give anyone the chills. “You hurt what belongs to me. No one does that and lives.”

Hellfire rushed from its hand to completely engulf the human’s body; it happened so fast that the guy didn’t have a chance to cry out. Fire crackled and popped as his skin blistered, melted, and peeled away. Her nose wrinkled at that the God-awful stench of burning flesh. The alley smelled bad once again.

As the body slumped in its grip, the demon dropped him and watched with clinical detachment while it vaporized right in front of them. Good ole hellfire sure was a bitch.

Obsidian eyes cut to Harper, still cold as ever. The demon prowled towards her, and she had to force herself not to tense. She knew that she was in no danger, but the entity still unnerved the ever loving shit out of her. It did a slow blink. “You should have called for me, little sphinx.”

That made her and her inner demon bristle. “I handled the situation.”

One brow slid up. “Pride can be a weakness.” The demon tapped her lip. “Take better care of what’s mine.” It then retreated, and Knox’s dark eyes once again held hers. And it was clear to see that he wasn’t happy. Evidently, he agreed with his demon.

She sighed. “I was dealing with the guy just fine on my own. If I’d thought I needed your help, I would have called for you.”

Knox slowly splayed his hand around her throat and circled her pulse with his thumb. “Really?” His tone called her a liar.

“Yes. I’m stubborn, not stupid.”

“Then you’ll have no problem making me a promise here and now.”

She didn’t like the sound of that. “Oh yeah?”

“Promise me that if you ever need my help, you’ll call for me.”

“I told you I will. I meant it.”

“Then this will be an easy promise for you to make.”

Damn, she’d walked right into that one. “Fine, I promise.”

“Good girl.” He kissed her, boldly licking into her mouth. The kiss was as aggressive as it was possessive; she could taste his anger, his concern, and his determination to keep her safe. He ended the kiss with a sharp, punishing bite to her lower lip. He wasn’t quite calm yet.

A car horn honked, and Knox said, “Time to go. We need to get you warm.” He guided her to the end of the alley where a sleek, top-of-the-line Bentley waited. Well, that was the kind of thing you could afford when you were a billionaire who owned a chain of hotels, casinos, restaurants, security firms, and bars.

Like all demons, Knox hid in plain sight, blending in easily with humans. Their kind often sought jobs that granted them power, control, challenges, and respect. Many were entrepreneurs, stock brokers, CEOs, politicians, bankers, surgeons, lawyers, police officers, and celebrities. Harper wasn’t so big on power, but she did enjoy the challenges of co-owning a tattoo studio.

Knox was as influential in the demon world as he was in the human world. He was a powerful Prime of a fairly large lair that spanned most of Nevada and a good portion of California. In addition, he owned a subterranean version of the Las Vegas strip known as the Underground. It was a busy place, given that demons were impulsive, forever restless, suffered from instant gratification issues, and had a bad habit of trying to deal with their oppressive boredom using cheap thrills.

Levi, one of Knox’s sentinels, opened the rear door of the Bentley for them. He didn’t look much happier with her than Knox did. “What the fuck happened to your face?” he growled, gunmetal gray eyes flaring with anger.

She gave the tall, powerfully built reaper a bright smile and slung her wet jacket at him. “Never say I don’t give you anything.” As she and Knox slid into the backseat, she turned to her mate and said, “You’re back early from your trip.”

His expression didn’t alter at all, but his hesitation to answer he spoke volumes.

“Something happened. What is it?”

He took her hand in his. “It’s Carla. She’s missing.”

Harper's stomach rolled. Carla Hayden was a sphinx and a member of their lair. She was also Harper's mother.

© Suzanne Wright

You can pre-order your copy of Blaze here...

Tuesday 26 July 2016

Hey everyone,

I just wanted to share my new trailer for the Dark in You Series! I was originally going to have a trailer made for the second book, Blaze, which will be released 1st September. But I thought about how great it would be to have a trailer that gives an insight into the setting of the series itself. I absolutely love it and have to applaud the producer for somehow managing to create this when you can't really provide visuals for psychic gifts and anchor bonds and all that jazz.

I hope you like it!!!

Take care,

S :)

Tuesday 10 May 2016

Savage Urges Bonus Material

Just a quick reminder that the deadline for receiving the Bonus Material Pack is fast approaching!

Anyone who wishes to receive it (includes a deleted scene from Savage Urges, a Behind the Book commentary, a short story for Jaime and Dante, and a sneak peek at the second in the Mercury Pack series, Force of temptation) just send proof of purchase of Savage Urges – a receipt, email order confirmation, or a snapshot of the book in your library – to my assistant at

The offer will stay open until 11:59pm Tuesday 10th May,  2016.

Have a great day!!

Monday 2 May 2016

Savage Urges is Released Tomorrow!

Cant believe the day is almost here! This is the fifth book of the Phoenix Pack series and tells Ryan's story. I’ll include the synopsis and an excerpt in this post so you can take a peek. I’ll be celebrating on Facebook tomorrow, so I hope you’ll come. There will be giveaways and a chance to receive bonus material. I like to do giveaways, but it seems sad that so many people get involved and only a handful win something. As such, I’ve created a Bonus Material Pack. It contains a Behind the Book commentary, a deleted scene, a short story for Jaime and Dante, and a sneak peek at the second instalment of the Mercury Pack Series, which will be released in autumn. The Bonus Material Pack will be available for the first week of the book’s release. To get it, all you have to do is send proof of purchase to an email address that I will post on Facebook tomorrow morning.

Here’s the synopsis for Savage Urges...

She’s a lone wolf with a cause.

As a volunteer at a shelter for lone shifters—the same one that rescued her—Makenna Wray has dedicated her life to finding homes for its residents. And when she discovers that a teen in her care is related to Ryan Conner, the broody, handsome-as-sin enforcer of the Phoenix Pack, she’s eager to help connect the two. She just wasn’t prepared to feel a connection of her own.

Lone wolves are loners for a reason—and most of them bad. Or so Ryan assumes until he meets the mysterious Makenna. Quirky and sensual, she seems to enjoy riling him, especially when she refuses to discuss her past. Although there is no mating bond, he’s sure she’s the one. All he has to do is be patient and wait. But when another pack’s sinister Alpha comes sniffing around, threatening Makenna and her shelter, this enforcer is ready to let his wolf off the leash…

Read on to check out an excerpt of the book…

Stalking people was so boring.

At least the view was attractive. Smoky black eyes, a strong jaw, broad shoulders, and impressive abs that she could see right through his dark-gray tee. The angles of his face were hard, rough, and dangerous, matching his menacing frown. He was incredibly hot, if you liked the broody, rugged type, which Makenna totally did. Especially when that male exuded strength and confidence with every step he took.

Ryan Conner.

Whenever she found potential guardians for loners, she researched them, scouting the Internet for information and asking questions of her many sources. The guy was a respected enforcer within a powerful pack and was well known for being a seriously talented tracker. All good things. He’d been described as stoic, dauntless, cold. But Makenna often had feelings about people—she was good at reading them, good at seeing past masks and shields—and she had a very good feeling about Ryan Conner.

Since she had more chance of talking with him in a public place than being permitted on his territory, she’d followed his Chevy to a small line of stores in town. And now, parked at the far side of the lot, she watched impatiently as he stood by his car talking on his cell phone. Her plan was pretty simple: the moment he put away his cell, she’d approach him, introduce herself, explain the issue, and . . . and now he was walking away.

She grimaced as he disappeared down an alley, out of sight. Crap. Could nothing be simple anymore?

Hopping out of her Mustang, Makenna crossed the lot, traced the path he’d taken, walked into the alley, and—

Where the fuck had he gone?

She moved a little farther into the alley, stepping into the shadows. It was empty. Well, that was totally shit. Now she’d have to—

A large, warm, calloused hand suddenly curled around her throat from behind as a solid body propelled her forward, caging her against the brick wall; the rough surface grazed her palms.

A hot mouth was then at her ear. “Why are you following me?” It was a menacing rumble.

And just like that, at the feel of his breath against her ear and the sound of that gravelly voice, lust slammed into her. The reaction was instant, elemental, and totally unwanted. Sometimes being a naturally sexual creature was very inconvenient. “You know, there aren’t many people who can creep up on me. You’re good.” He hadn’t made a single sound. Makenna was good at stealth, but not that good.

For a moment, he didn’t respond, and she had the feeling she’d surprised him. He grunted, “Answer my question.”

Did he think that gruff tone would scare her? It probably should. Especially since she had well over six feet of untamed power practically curled around her from behind. With her slim build fitting into the groove between his broad shoulders and her head resting just beneath his chin, she felt totally surrounded.

Her wolf should have felt threatened. She didn’t though as she was a little distracted by the dark animal energy that hummed beneath his skin and his delicious scent: rich hazelnut, smoky sandalwood, and a dark sexuality. Makenna could admit it was rather distracting. “Sure thing. But I’ll need you to release me first.” In truth, she could easily escape his hold. But it would serve her best to let him believe she was helpless.

“I’ll release you when you answer me.”

“I just need to talk to you.”

“So talk.” His thumb circled her throat in a movement that was surprisingly arousing.

“Look, I’m on a bit of a schedule here—”

“Who sent you? What pack are you from?”

If she revealed she was a lone wolf this early in the conversation, she’d most likely be sent on her way. “Nobody sent me. I just need to speak with you.”

A pause. “You have five minutes.”

“I’m gonna need at least ten.”

“I mean you have five minutes to convince me not to snap this pretty little neck.” He punctuated that with a flex of his grip.

She sensed that he wasn’t kidding. Well, of course he wasn’t. She was a perfect stranger, she’d been following him, and he had all the instincts of an enforcer. A threat to an enforcer was a threat to their pack. As such, they would never hesitate in eliminating one. “Hey, if you really want me to walk away, fine. But then you’ll never know what was so important to make me trail you like this.”

He grunted. It was a sound that said, “So?”

“Damian Lewis was your cousin. Correct?” He didn’t respond, but she knew she was right. “As I’m sure you know, he died six years ago. His mate died shortly after, unable to survive the breaking of the mating bond, leaving their son to the care of their pack.” She licked her lips. “Zac left his pack six months ago, and he point-blank refuses to return. He’s been staying at a shelter for loners for the past four months.” Ryan still said nothing. “Are you going to let go of me now?”

“No.” He circled his thumb over her throat again, increasing the buzz of arousal beneath her skin. “What does this have to do with you? Are you from his pack?”

“No, I’m a volunteer at the shelter.”

He growled, “You’re a loner?”

As his grip tightened—not enough to hurt but enough to reassert his dominance—Makenna sighed. “Okay, I get it. You’re a big, bad, scary wolf, and your proverbial dick is bigger than mine. I’m officially intimidated.”



His mouth moved even closer to her ear, until he was almost nibbling on her lobe. “That’s a lie. I don’t like it when people lie to me. Don’t do it again.”

© Suzanne Wright

Have a great day!

Tuesday 29 September 2015


Spiral of Need, the first in the Mercury Pack series, has been released today!
If you're interested, read on for an excerpt from chapter one:

Nothing like being accused of attempted murder to complete a girl’s Friday evening.

Alyssa “Ally” Marshall kept her expression carefully blank as she stared at the two wolf shifters sitting across from her. For at least an hour the enforcers had kept her detained in an empty room of the pack house before finally joining her, only to look at her as though she were a perfect stranger as opposed to one of their pack mates.

She knew why they had left her alone for so long. Shifters didn’t do well with enclosed spaces. Placing her in a small room, bare except for three chairs and a desk, was obviously supposed to increase her discomfort and make her wolf feel trapped and isolated.

It worked, but Ally had fought hard not to show it. Fought hard to keep her pacing wolf from losing her shit. And fought hard to suppress the memories of the last time she’d felt so trapped.

Then the mind games had begun.

First Greg and Clint had tried the good cop/bad cop routine, which she’d found rather insulting to her intelligence. So while Good Cop Greg had done his best to convince her that he was her savior and Bad Cop Clint had been browbeating and antagonistic, Ally had remained calm as she firmly stated the facts.

Instead of listening to what she had to say and considering her side of the story, they had tried twisting her words. And she’d quickly realized that they hadn’t brought her into this room to hear her version of the events. They had already made up their minds that she was guilty; what they wanted was a confession.

At that point, she’d demanded that they summon their Alpha but was told that Matt was talking with Ally’s supposed victim and wouldn’t be joining them. That was when Ally turned silent. She wasn’t going to give them anything more to use against her. No matter how much psychological pressure they put on her, Ally refused to crack. She didn’t flinch, she didn’t lose her temper, and she didn’t evade eye contact. As they stared at her, she stared right back. Her wolf approved of her resilience, though the animal would find much more satisfaction in scalping the bastards with her claws. It wasn’t a bad idea, really.

Greg had then turned from good cop into frustrated-as-all-shit cop, sighing and growling. And Clint had gone from bad cop to on-the-verge-of-snapping cop, slamming his hands on the table and aggressively invading her personal space. Ally was the only one in the room projecting an outward calm . . . and that was just irritating them even more. How grand.

“Do you have any idea how bad this could get for you, Ally?” Greg leaned forward. “Matt is going to be supremely pissed. You’re facing an execution here. Tell us the truth, and we can help you. We’ll reduce the penalty to banishment from the pack.”

She snorted. Even if they did want to help her, they didn’t have the authority to decide penalties.

“Continuing to maintain your innocence is pointless,” stated Clint, rising from his seat. “We have evidence”—no, they didn’t— “and we have witnesses.”

What they had were the words of some asshole kids who had been detained in this room more times than anyone could count.

Greg folded his arms across his chest. “You said those boys approached you.”

No, she hadn’t. She’d said they surrounded her when she left her cabin mere seconds after she’d realized that not only had someone broken into the cabin while she was gone, but they had totally ransacked it.

Greg went on. “You also said you’re certain that those boys made a mess in your home.”

Personally, she wouldn’t call breaking her furniture, slashing her clothes, spray-painting insults on her walls, smashing her TV, and slinging the contents of the refrigerator around her home a mess.

“But according to the eight youths, they were just hanging around, minding their own business, when you came at them and accused them of breaking into your cabin.”

Which, of course, was a load of cock and bull.

“They claim that they assured you that they weren’t responsible for the damage.”

Another lie. In truth, they had delighted in confessing their involvement when they crowded her, laughingly informing her that Rachelle had put them up to it. And who was Rachelle? Only the delegate of Satan. She also happened to be the pack’s Beta female.

“They insist that you refused to listen, that you persisted in accusing them of breaking into your home at Rachelle’s request. Then you stated, ‘I’m going to kill her!’ before running off.”

Had Ally thought the words? Multiple times. Had she spoken them aloud? Not even once, because Ally didn’t bother with threats or warnings. She much preferred to challenge her foe, get the fight over with, and then go on about her day. But she’d resisted the urge to challenge Rachelle for several reasons— mostly because it was exactly what Rachelle wanted. Ally had no intention of giving that crazy heifer anything.

Clint came to Ally’s side, resting his hands on the table. “You say that you headed for the pack house, looking for Matt, only to find that the place was empty. But, see, I don’t buy that, sweetheart.” His eyes drilled into her as his upper lip curled. “I think you knew that our Alpha would be of no help to you, knew that he would take Rachelle’s side over yours.”

Only one thing about his theory was true: Matt probably would take Rachelle’s side.

“So then you decided to take the matter into your own hands, didn’t you?” Clint’s voice turned harder, louder, browbeating. “You did exactly as Rachelle claims: you tracked her down and attacked her from behind, slashing her back, giving her no chance to defend herself.” He slowly stalked to Ally’s other side as he continued, “She quickly righted herself and whirled on you, didn’t she? That was when you sucker punched her, knocking her out, and ran like the coward you are.”

Her wolf growled, insulted by the “coward” comment. Ally wanted to snort. If she’d wanted to kill Rachelle, she’d have gone at her from the front. And she’d have made sure she finished the job. Since she’d joined the Collingwood Pack two years ago, Ally had only been involved in two duels. Both times, Ally had won. She fought hard and dirty, but she did not attack from behind. And she did not run off like a coward. No self-respecting dominant wolf would.

“You were jealous because you lost Zeke to her,” charged Clint with a taunting smirk, “and you thought that if she was out of the picture, you would get him back.”

Even if she had wanted Zeke back, killing Rachelle wouldn’t have achieved it. Since it was rare for shifters to survive the death of a mate, Zeke would most likely have died right along with her. As such, Clint’s allegation couldn’t be more pathetic. And because Ally had a terrible habit of accidentally speaking her thoughts aloud, she mocked, “Wow, you cracked this case wide open.”

Clint flushed from the neck up, but after a moment he gave a careless shrug. “It’s your word against Rachelle’s.” His tone made it clear that Ally’s word meant jack shit. Unfortunately, that was true.

The past few months had sucked big-time. It had been a blow when her boyfriend found his true mate, but Ally was happy for Zeke. She had been nothing but welcoming and respectful to his mate, but the female had loathed her from minute one. Ally had felt the hate pouring from her in waves—literally. Being highly empathetic came with the Seer package.

Her intuition had told her that Rachelle Lavin was going to be trouble . . . and it had been right. Despite Zeke not hesitating to claim Rachelle as his mate, the female had immediately embarked on a hate campaign with Ally as the target.

Ally had been shocked when Zeke berated her a few months ago for supposedly insulting his mate. Confused and riled, she’d sought out Rachelle . . . playing right into the woman’s hands, she later realized. Everyone had witnessed her yelling at her Beta female, who had remained calm and cool as she rebuked Ally and gave her pitying looks for her “jealousy.”

That was when the “Ally’s jealous” tripe had started. And she had quickly found that there wasn’t a good defense against that seventh-grade insult. If Ally ignored it, she was jealous. If she responded with a smart comeback, she was jealous. If she got pissed and told them to go eat shit, she was not only jealous but bitter too.
© Suzanne Wright
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Wednesday 1 July 2015


'BURN', the first in my The Dark in You Series, is now live on Amazon!

For anyone who hasn't read the synopsis or an excerpt, you can check them out in the post below.

Here are the Amazon links:

Have a great day!


Suzanne :)

Thursday 25 June 2015

Upcoming Release!

'BURN', the first in my new The Dark in You Series, will be released in just six days! Time has flown! It follows the story of demon Knox Thorne, who was featured in 'Consumed.'

Here's the synopsis:

Part of a small demon lair in North Las Vegas, tattooist Harper Wallis lives a pretty simple life. That changes overnight when she discovers that her psychic mate, or ‘anchor’, is a guy who’s rumored to be the most powerful demon in existence. Compelling, full of secrets and armed with raw sexuality, Knox Thorne is determined to claim her as his anchor, creating a psychic bond that will prevent their inner demons from ever turning rogue. The billionaire also wants Harper in his bed. She’s not so sure she wants either of those things. No one seems to know what breed of demon Knox is, only that he’s more dangerous than anything she’s ever before encountered. But he refuses to walk away. And when an unknown danger starts closing in on Harper, it seems that Knox is the only one who can keep her safe.

As Prime of his Las Vegas lair and a successful businessman, Knox Thorne is used to being in control. He’s also used to people fearing and obeying him. Harper does neither, which unexpectedly amuses him. Unpredictable, elusive, and complex, she draws Knox and his inner demon like nothing ever has. Knox is used to getting what he wants, and he wants Harper. He’ll have her, and he’ll keep her safe from the threat that looms over her. Because Knox protects what’s his. He won’t allow anyone to take her from him. Even if it will mean letting the demon inside him rise and wreak the havoc it was created to make.

If you're interested, here's an excerpt from chapter one:

Inhaling deeply, Harper slipped inside…and found herself fighting the urge to stare in awe at the tall, imposing figure standing behind a glass desk. Deep-set dark eyes that matched the color of his hair locked on Harper, and the intensity there rocked her. Her body instantly responded. Molten lust licked at her, making her breasts ache, her nipples harden, and every inch of her skin suddenly feel hypersensitive. Well, shit.
All demons had natural sex appeal, and she’d heard that Knox’s effect was more potent than most, but Harper still hadn’t been prepared for the sheer impact of him. He radiated alpha energy, projected a raw sexual magnetism that would make any girl sensually starving. As she took in his bold stare, powerful stance, and air of self-possession, lots of words came to mind: Powerful. Forceful. Confident. Controlled. Dauntless. Determined.
Damn if it didn’t make him intimidating.
Refusing to buckle under the force of it all, Harper shut the door and waited. He said nothing. Didn’t greet her. Didn’t invite her to sit. Just stared at her with that dark, penetrating gaze that was sizing her up, and the atmosphere seemed to thicken with tension. But there was no chance that she would avert her eyes. This was a test of her strength, and she wasn’t prepared to fail it.
Finally, looking like he’d just stepped out of a GQ magazine, Knox slowly rounded the desk and walked towards her. No, walked wasn’t the right word. He breezed, glided – moved with an animal grace that demanded attention and could easily keep it.
Her inner demon froze, feeling threatened by this male that exuded danger. And he was dangerous – it was apparent in the way he moved, in his posture, in the tension coiled in his muscles that rippled beneath his black suit. She would bet that suit cost more than her entire wardrobe.
“I’m Knox Thorne.” He tilted his head, those dark eyes still locked on her. He was even more imposing up close. “And you are…?”
“Harper Wallis.” It worried her that he unnerved her demon, who was rarely rattled by anything. To Harper’s utter frustration, she couldn’t get a read on him, couldn’t identify what breed of demon he was. But every instinct she had told her to tread carefully; that she was in the presence of a very powerful predator.
“Harper Wallis.” He didn’t say her name, he tasted it. Tasted it with a voice that was like smoke, whiskey, and velvet. And Harper knew she’d be entertaining some seriously dirty fantasies about him later. She sure hoped he couldn’t read her thoughts – now, that would be embarrassing.
She wasn’t offended when he didn’t hold out his hand to shake hers. Demons were tactile, psychic, sexual creatures, but they were also very selective in who they gave permission to touch them. “Nice to meet you, I guess.” She didn’t sound at all genuine. And for some odd reason, that made his mouth curve into a crooked smile which caused her libido to do the fandango. Great.

© Suzanne Wright