Title: Hanaford Park Series:
•Book #1: Eve of Samhain
•Book #2: Pleasures Untold
•Book #3: Faythe Reclaimed
Author: Lisa Sanchez
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Hosted By: Love Between The Sheets
Eve of Samhain (Hanaford Park #1)
As a college senior and server at Hanaford Park's hottest nightclub, twenty-one year old Ryann Pierce's plan was simple: work hard, make lots of money, and avoid the ass-grabbers at all costs. What she never planned for was Quinn Donegan—the living, breathing advertisement for sinful behavior that waltzed into her life.
With an angelic face, a hard body and a butt-load of charm, Quinn had a way with the ladies—a lot of ladies. Cursed with a deadly, addictive touch, his trail of indiscretion blazed across five hundred years. Tired and jaded, Ryann is a shocking revelation Quinn didn't see coming.
Filled with desire, yet unable to touch one another,Ryann and Quinn embark on a daunting journey, battling frustrating physical limitations while exploring their new love. In a race against the clock, Ryann learns she must plead for Quinn's life before…the Eve of Samhain. Determined to end her lover's suffering, not even the danger dogging her every move can keep her from her mission.
“How much do you know about Irish mythology? Faeries, their queen?” He pursed his lips and waited for my response.
I shook my head. “Nothing. I don’t know a thing.”
“I see,” he said, and he sat back in his chair. “I suppose I should begin with a bit of history then. TheFae were an ancient race of beings that came from the great islands of the North. After being defeated in a series of battles with numerous otherworldly beings, as well as the ancestors of those who currently inhabit Ireland, the Fae retreated to the Isle of Apples, or Avalon, as you may have heard it referred to.”
My eyes narrowed in confusion. I’d never heard jack about the Fae, which I assumed were faeries. “Avalon? Like from the Arthurian legend?”
“Yes,” he said with a nod.
Huh … you learn something new every day. “So, uh … where’s that located?”
“Avalon? In the Otherworld, of course.”
I felt like smacking myself on the forehead. Oh, of course. The Otherworld. I should have known! I squelched my sarcasm and let him continue.“The Fae queen, Morgana, was eternally young and beautiful, and desired by many, including one young and foolish courtier. Exceedingly handsome and gifted with the ability to charm those around him, the young libertine ravished his way through Morgana’s female courtiers, wooing them into his bed one by one. Narcissistic in the extreme, the young faerie cared not for the feelings of the women he took advantage of, and he boasted openly about his conquests to all who would listen. “He was, in fact, so sure of himself, the vainglorious idiot attempted to beguile the beautiful queen, claiming she would be his greatest conquest. Upon hearing his plan, the queen became enraged, cursing the young faerie. For five hundred years he would walk the earth, seducing women, a slave to their passion, driving them to insanity with lust and the illusion of love. His touch brought about a euphoric reaction to the women he courted, filling them with desire and longing.” He stared at his hands as he spoke, as though they were the spawn of the devil, and hastily placed them in his lap, out of his line of sight.
Hot and dizzy, I inhaled sharply, unaware I’d been holding my breath. I stared at Quinn, willing him with my eyes to continue, as my breath came in shallow pants.
“Nothing he did was real; it was all an illusion.Every touch, a lie. Never would he know true love or passion, as every woman he came across fell prey to the magic of the curse.” He paused for a moment and stared off into space as if he were remembering the story firsthand. Darkness flashed in his eyes. “For a time, he became angry, indifferent to the plight of the women. After ravishing them, he left, letting them pine away for his touch. There were a few women who became deadly, killing any other that dared to cross their unrequited love’s path.”
He stopped talking when he heard me gasp, and looked down, refusing to meet my eyes.
“What … what happened?” I asked, my voice barely registering above a whisper. His story was riveting.
“The faerie was unable to live with the destruction that lay in his wake. He discovered he had a few other talents that enabled him to strip the memories of those he seduced, saving them from their inevitable spiral into madness.”
“So he sleeps with his prey, and then erases their memories?” My hand shot up to my mouth.
“Yes,” Quinn replied quietly, his voice filled with shame. His head hung low, and he refused to meet my eyes as he spoke.
I reached out to him, wondering why he was so worked up over a work of fiction. “Quinn, it’s all right. It’s just a myth. Th—”
“No.” He shot up out of his seat, jaw clenched in anger. “It’s not all right. It’s torture.” His voice broke. His whole body shook, throwing off waves of anger, frustration, and sorrow. “To know every moment of your existence is a lie, a farce. To live each day knowing the women you touch will either have no memory of you when it’s all said and done, or suffer mindless insanity is pure, unadulterated agony!” He threw back his chair and stormed off, leaving me shocked and speechless.
My mind reeled. No way, Ryann. Don’t even go there. You like to reside in a little place called reality, where there are no such things as faeries.
His story was so compelling, though. The tale he wove seemed to meet all my unanswered questions about him. Not to mention, he spoke with such conviction, as though he lived it himself.
Could it be?
Pleasures Untold (Hanaford Park #2)
Hell hath no fury like a witch done wrong. Pissed off and packing an arsenal of witchy mojo, Martha is on the warpath. Determined to avenge the murder of her mother and grandmother, her mission is simple: kill every vampire, demon and underworld bastard she comes across, because one of those hell beasts might be the monster that stole her childhood from her. But when a sexy Latin vamp literally falls from the sky, saving her from becoming an undead Happy Meal, she has no choice but to reassess everything she thinks she knows.
Xan is an anomaly --a vampire born, not turned. A powerful warlock who walks in daylight, Xan spends his days, and nights, watching over Martha, protecting her from Lucian, the blood-sucking monstrosity whose sole mission in death is to drain her dry. Undeniable attraction and the promise of pleasures untold draw the two lovers into a frustrating dance of one step forward, two steps back. When Lucian throws down a deadly ultimatum, Martha is forced to choose between relying on her own mystical woo woo to save the lives of her stolen friends or succumbing to the lure of dark, voodoo magic. Xan and Martha must work together to save those closest to her and put an end to Lucian's reign of terror before it's too late.
Reaching into my bag, I pulled out Chuck and crept forward, my senses on high alert. I lifted my hand slowly toward the door and received a nasty shock that singed the tips of my fingers, causing me to howl in pain.
"Ow…crap!" The ward on the door was strong. Even stronger than the ones outside had been. This cemented my belief that Deanna was in the room.
"I wouldn't try that again if I were you."
I froze. My senses were magnified, on high alert. If a pin dropped on the opposite side of the club, I'd have heard it.
Adrenaline rushed through my veins. I hadn't heard anyone approach, which meant only one thing. There was a vampire or demon behind me.
Gripping Chuck tight in my hand, I whirled around and stabbed my silent enemy, driving the wooden stake deep into his…shoulder. Oh, God. No. No. No. I missed the chest area altogether. Not good. If I don't move fast, I'm a goner. I fought to hold onto the weapon as my arm trembled and shook. Using my body as leverage. I stepped back, preparing to yank the stake from its body by brute force.
A strong hand came to rest over mine that still gripped the end of the stake, and I looked up, gasping in shock. Him. I'd stabbed him. Holy Mary, Mother of…
"Wha…but…I…" The ability to form a coherent sentence left me as I stood open-mouthed in front of the handsome creature who had saved my life the week before. I was no expert with regard to etiquette, but was fairly certain it wasn't good form to repay the person who previously saved your life by stabbing them. With feet glued to the floor, I stared up at him in horror, waiting for him to end my life.
With a slight grimace, he tugged on my hand, which still held the stake, and slowly, pulled the offending piece of wood from his shoulder with a frown. "Your aim could use a little work, carino." He swiped Chuck across the leg of his pants, cleaning off the blood and handed me the weapon with a smirk.
Faythe Reclaimed (Hanaford Park #3)
Running through a strange forest with a bloodthirsty demon hot on her heels wasn't Taylor's idea of a rockin' evening. Then again, neither was soaring backward through time and space. Time travel chafed and left a rank, nasty aftertaste. So, when she finds herself floundering amidst a sea of Commandment-loving holy rollers who fling accusations of witchcraft and bedevilment like hotcakes in a diner, finding her way home jumps to the top of her to do list. Too bad she can't remember who she is or where she came from. And if that wasn't bad enough, Taylor has to fall for the mysterious Latin warlock living on the edge of Salem Village and who comes to her rescue, Gabriel Castillo. Battling an identity crisis and lost in a time that's not her own, Taylor is determined to find her way back to twenty-first century Hanaford Park. But first, she and Gabriel must work together to uncover the dark scourge lurking in Salem's shadows, and in doing so, save their own lives, and the lives of countless innocents from a lethal date with the hangman's noose.
A gust of wind whipped through the nearby window, a hint of pine floating on the cool breeze. The small room, the bed, time itself—fell away in fragmented layers, the heady scent of pine and rich spices triggering a vivid fantasy.
Rough bark cut through the layers of wool and cotton, the unforgiving surface chafing at the tender skin on my back. I twined my fingers through the thick layers of hair at the back of his neck and held him to me, his glorious lips a perfect balm to the nagging irritation at my back.
The scent of rich spices, fresh air and pine swirled around him like some kind of erotic love drug, luring me in. It was intoxicating. He was intoxicating, and the only thing I cared about at that moment.
Goosebumps spattered across my skin, my heart fluttering like a hummingbird's wings inside my ribs as he pulled his lips from my mouth, trailing soft, whisper-light kisses down my jaw.
He groaned, a deep masculine sound that sent my blood boiling and my nether regions screaming for attention. There wasn't an inch of skin covering my body that didn't ache for his touch, cry out for his kiss. He was a master in the art of sexual warfare, a damn guerillafighter—lethal, proficient and fucking sexy as hell.
The buttons holding the top portion of my dress closed exploded from the annoying fabric keeping us apart, and it was all I could do to breathe, to keep my wits about me, when he laid siege to my chest with his mouth.
Strong, capable hands tugged at the layers of fabric covering my legs, the hideous skirt and unwanted barrier between my ready and willing girlie bits and the salvation that was him. Warm, rough fingers grasped both sides of my ass, lifting me off the ground. My legs snaked around his waist, and I cried out in exquisite relief as he ground his swollen cock against my aching core. Oh, God. I was so ready. I wanted him. No! I needed him…like air. Without him I'd asphyxiate, I'd cease to live…I'd die. I sucked in a ragged breath. "Please, Gabriel…"
Eve of Samhain:
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Eve of Samhain:
Eve Of Samhain: <iframe src="https://embed.spotify.com/?uri=spotify:user:1272631142:playlist:1vBrGxeEACYLveYVoNTrBg" width="300" height="380" frameborder="0" allowtransparency="true"></iframe>
Lisa's lifelong love of writing, coupled with her ability to weave together and intricate and compelling story has led to the release of her New Adult paranormal romance trilogy, the Hanaford Park series (Eve Of Samhain, Pleasures Untold, Faythe Reclaimed). She's also published Obsessed, a steamy erotic suspense with Loose Id, and self-published a paranormal novella,Cursing Athena.
In her role as a busy stay-at-home and self-proclaimed "cheer mom," on any given day Lisa wears a number of different hats. From taxi driver to chef, nurse to seamstress, laundry woman to enforcer, and, of course, writer, Lisa manages to keep everything together while caring for her husband and three children. The few spare moments left in her day are usually spent reading or writing, and if she's really lucky, possibly even catching up on some much needed sleep. Lisa and her family currently reside in Tracy, California.
Lisa is represented by Brittany Booker of the Booker/Albert agency, and has two projects on submission and a third in the works
How to find Lisa
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Autographed series in paperback (US only)
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