Sylvia Day – Snaring The Huntress

Snaring The Huntress
Amber Quill Press
ISBN: 1-59279-454-8 (Electronic)

Short Futuristic Erotica
Rating: Graphic Sexual Content/Language

Star is an Interstellar Council judge. Her position requires her to pass sentence, hunt down the offenders, and administer punishments. She’s considered one of the best, and if she plays her cards right, she just might become the first of the Hunter species to ascend to the Supreme Court—her life’s goal. When she’s ordered to hunt down a rogue Jacian ambassador in heat, the precedent is death. Sympathetic, but following the law she holds so dear, she pursues him with the intent to kill.

Roark has entered his mating cycle. By Council law, he should be locked in a room with his pre-assigned partner for a week of non-stop sex that will get him through his heat. But he doesn’t want his pre-assigned. He wants Star, the luscious blonde judge whose compassion and intelligence has won his regard. The penalty for going rogue while in heat is death, but that’s a small price to pay for a week of sensual pleasure with the woman he desires more than anything.

Now the huntress is the prey, and when she’s snared by a man in heat, it’s passion that rules, not the law. Or does it? Roark still has his sentence, and his lover Star is judge, jury…and executioner.

Read a short excerpt

“I hope you didn’t dim the lights for me,” she murmured, the hilt of her small dagger gripped firmly, but not tightly.

“I certainly didn’t do it for me,” came the low, velvety voice she knew from her dreams. It swirled around her, originating from nowhere and yet permeating everywhere. “I would much rather see you. You do hunt naked, like the rest of your species, don’t you?”

Star paused mid-step, her pulse quickening at the sound of that deep growl of sensual promise. She shook off the tingle that coursed over her skin. “Who are you?” she breathed, every nerve ending flaring to life. “Where are you?”

The room was empty.

“That depends. I’m either your prey or your lover. You have to decide which.”

She checked the bathroom. Nothing. “I don’t know you.”

“Don’t you, Star? I’ve held you in my arms, caressed you, licked every inch of your skin. You have a scar on your left hip. A battle wound. I like to kiss it. Suckle it, like your nipples…”

“Shut up.” Her spines shot out, a sign of arousal and fear. She was the predator here, but she didn’t feel that way…

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