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world around her to go white. But she didn’t release. She held on, sinking her body further onto his manhood, her breath growing heavier and more desperate with every mind-blowing thrust. Finally, she could hold on no more. Her body lit up, much like it had the night before, transcending her to a new realm of bliss.
                  He joined her, pushing himself into her hard one last time. She clenched as she felt him spasm within her before they fell together on the soft earth, breathless both from their mating and their love for each other.
                  “I know no war when I’m with you,” she said, leaning her body into his. “I know only happiness.”
                  “As I to you,” he promised. “I will love you, Cassie, for all the days of my life, and beyond. I won’t let anything come between us. If your book on mythology is correct, and I am the child of a Sun God, then you are the light that feeds the sun. You are what gives my life warmth.”
                  And with that, he took her in his arms again, never to let go.
     
    ***
     
     
    THE END
     
     
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    Here is a sample from the third book in the series:
     

     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Wanted by the Cowboy Tiger
     
     
     
     
     
     
    By: Clara Moore
     

Chapter One
     
    Krista
                 
                  It didn’t make sense.
                  Krista Beucourt looked down upon the grave she had just uncovered, wiping the sweat and dirt away from her forehead as the New Mexico heat scorched the land dry. The skeleton in the grave was man on top and beast on bottom, like the cousin of a centaur, but that was not what had Krista confused. What fur remained of the man-beast appeared to belong to that of a tiger. A cougar or a panther she could understand, but not a tiger. Tigers originated from Asia, not the Americas.
                  Krista studied the skeleton closer, hoping for answers. She should feel vindicated. The notoriety of her work as an anthropologist was about to sky rocket, but it was hard to embrace glory when the arms of the skeleton reached out so forlornly, as if he grasped for a lover who was not there.
                  Stepping away from the grave, Krista went to the cooler next to her tent, took out a bottle of water, and pressed it against her cheek. She wore only a pair of shorts and a sports bra, showing off her chocolate skin and curvy body, but it was not enough to ward off the blazing sun. She might as well strip naked. No one would be the wiser. She was out in the desert valley alone, her work a solitary venture. But she kept her designer shorts on. An anthropologist with a passion for fashion, she had paid a small fortune for them in the city, where she lived.
                  “Give me the city any day,” Krista mumbled out loud as she threw a tarp over the bones and went into her tent to hide from the sun and to process all she had learned so far from her discovery.
                  She had not traveled out into the dry wilderness to find a man-beast. She’d been in search of a lost group of settlers who had disappeared from the region in the 1800’s, when it was still the Wild West. A marking on a cave nearby of a cross had led her to this area. Her radar equipment had done the rest, picking up the skeleton as she scanned the land.
                  Technically, Krista was not authorized to be here. She had been unable to retrieve a permit from the local authorities, and so she could not call in a team to dig with her. She had assumed her permit had been rejected due to a bias that she was an anthropologist, meant to study human behavior, and not an archaeologist, who usually led digs for lost artifacts and people. She even suspected that the local authorities did not