Part of Series
SnowDancer healer Lara knows primal ecstasy. She wakes to it every morning, skin-to-skin with the hard male body of the quiet, powerful telepath who is her mate. Lean muscle and rough heat, Walker is the only man she has ever wanted to call her own. But being mated to a man formed in the ice-cold cage of the PsyNet has its challenges. Born into a race where emotion is a crime, Walker’s will is a creation of cold steel. Scarred by the life he has lived, the terrible choices he was forced to make, he never expected to find happiness. Now, his heart belongs to Lara and he will fight to the death to protect the bond between them . . . even knowing he might have been too long in the ice of the PsyNet to give her what she needs. Before Lara and Walker can claim the wild promise of their future, they must first face the painful shadows of the past . . . Timeline: Takes place some time after Kiss of Snow. This story can be found in the short story anthology Wild Invitation.
Author
I've been writing as long as I can remember and all of my stories always held a thread of romance (even when I was writing about a prince who could shoot lasers out of his eyes). I love creating unique characters, love giving them happy endings and I even love the voices in my head. There's no other job I would rather be doing. In September 2002, when I got the call that Silhouette Desire wanted to buy my first book, Desert Warrior, it was a dream come true. I hope to continue living the dream until I keel over of old age on my keyboard. I was born in Fiji and raised in New Zealand. I also spent three years living and working in Japan, during which time I took the chance to travel around Asia. I’m back in New Zealand now, but I’m always plotting new trips. If you’d like to see some of my travel snapshots, have a look at the Travel Diary page (updated every month). So far, I've worked as a lawyer, a librarian, a candy factory general hand, a bank temp and an English teacher and not necessarily in that order. Some might call that inconsistency but I call it grist for the writer's mill.
