Happy…Happy…Joy…Joy…Egyptian Touch is available today!!!!!!!!!!!

It’s been 3 long years in the making but I’ve finally finished and published Egyptian Touch – the second book in my Bastet’s Warriors Series.


The buy link is above.

Blurb –

Sequel to Egyptian Lust
Layla is tired of being on the run. She doesn’t know who is after her or why but she’s not about to let herself be kidnapped by strange men.
Tarik, warrior son of the goddess Bastet, has been secretly protecting Layla’s bloodline for millennia. Now that demons are chasing her, it’s time to make contact.
Layla’s world, already tilting off its axis, turns completely upside down when Tarik spirits her out of harm’s way. She learns she’s part of a group of women born to protect the world from Apep, the demon lord. Ancient deities are real. And Tarik happens to be able to shift into a panther. As Tarik works to keep Layla safe, their shared attraction explodes into passion—a passion they’re eager to indulge until the time comes when Layla and three other women will defeat Apep once and for all.
Reader Advisory: This story has graphic sexual language and scenes—no closed bedroom doors (or other rooms) here!
An adult paranormal romance from Ellora’s Cave

 Excerpt – By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, please exit this site.


Copyright © SIERRA SUMMERS, 2015

All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

Run… The familiar female voice in her mind commanded. At the same time the pendant nestled between Layla’s breasts grew hot, warning her of trouble. She wrapped her hand tightly around the piece of jasper and squeezed her eyes shut.

Please not yet. I need to rest. She was tired of making hasty getaways.

Layla, go now! The damn voice in her head screeched for her to move her ass.

She didn’t waste another second. She slid out of the diner booth and threw down the last of her money for the uneaten dinner and quickly went into the bathroom. Holding the door slightly open, she peeked out. Two hulking men came through the front entrance. They walked to each table, grasping at every female patron. Several patrons started yelling at the pair. A couple of men stood to defend their women but were tossed aside as if they were nothing. As they made their way through the crowd they continued to grab and stare at each woman they came upon. Some of the patrons were more interested in videoing the scene rather than helping. The restaurant emptied, leaving only a couple of waitresses who’d snuck into the kitchen. Layla hoped they were calling the cops.

She softly closed the door, not wanting to draw attention to the bathrooms. She looked around the three-stall space and spotted a small window above the last one. Heart racing, she hurried over to the window. Stepping on the back of the toilet, she grabbed either side of the stall walls and pulled herself up. Desperately she tried to force the rusted lock open. The damn thing wouldn’t budge. The voices outside the bathroom grew louder as the crowd of patrons defended the women. It wouldn’t take long for the cops to get there.

Hurry, they’re almost here! She pulled the sleeve of her sweatshirt over her hand. She drew her fist back and punched the glass, sending it outward. She brushed away the shards left. The last thing she needed was to get sliced up. She squeezed her body through the opening and fell onto the concrete below. She didn’t have time to check for injuries. Adrenaline drove her forward as she ran down the alley toward the street. The sickly yellow light hanging between the two buildings did little to penetrate the dark night. She slid in something wet and almost fell but regained her footing and moved forward.

She turned left and continued to run. Her lungs burned and her chest constricted as she gasped for air. She wanted to look behind her but knew better. One second’s worth of distraction could mean the end of her life. After being on the run for three months it had become instinctual.

She ducked into a dive bar. Thankfully it was happy hour and packed wall to wall—the crowd would make it easier to hide. The pendant around her neck was still warm to the touch, which signaled she wasn’t out of danger yet.

She kept to the wall as she moved into the shadows near the back of the crowded room. Her gaze remained on the front door while she tried to catch her breath. She was so damn weary. The worst part was she had no one to go to, no one to help her. It wasn’t as if she could go to the police with her story again.

She’d gone to them after the hulks first tried to grab her. Detectives started asking her questions and she explained about the men who seemed to be following her around. The more things they asked the less she could explain. After an hour of questioning the cops began to look at her as if she were on drugs and kept offering her the chance to get checked out at the hospital. When she refused they ended their interview. The exact same thing had happened that horrible night with Seth.

She wasn’t about to go to the cops again. What could she really tell them, that a few months ago, random bad-assed men began trying to kidnap her? That one almost managed to kill her and she’d been followed ever since? If she tried to go to the authorities she’d be shipped off to the nut house.

She had no family either. Her mother had died when she was eighteen and she never knew who her father was. She’d run from town to town, place to place and it was taking a toll. Layla hadn’t spent more than a few days in any city, taking small jobs, usually in diners or bars that paid in cash. When it came time to run she’d try to lose herself among the homeless, traveling from shelter to shelter, dining in soup kitchens. Bathing herself in bus station washrooms or when she could afford it a skive motel. Sometimes stealing what she needed after the money ran out. Even now the patrons of the bar were giving her a wide berth. She knew she was a mess.

Running blind was scary. She needed to find some answers and she needed to find them soon. She had an eerie feeling she was running out of time.

She fought tears as they threatened to escape. She swallowed hard and admonished herself. Now was not the time to feel sorry for herself—there was only time to concentrate on staying alive for one more night.

“Hello, pretty lady.”

She looked up and up and up, following a deep voice. The god towering over her made her forget her current predicament as turquoise eyes surrounded by lashes black as night stared down at her. She tore her attention away from the huge man standing before her. She didn’t have the time to deal with a drunk right now.

Looking around his broad body, she didn’t see the two she’d been trying to ditch but she wouldn’t feel safe until she got out of town. “Listen, pal, I’m a little busy.”

“I know and if you want to live out the rest of this night, you’ll listen to me.”

Her stomach tightened as she forced her attention back to the hunk.

His gaze penetrated her. Panic rose and desire scorched her throat as sexual awareness hit her hard. The last thing she needed was to lose herself in the hunk standing in front of her. It had been so long since she’d taken a lover and she couldn’t help how she was feeling. A spark was threatening to ignite and she couldn’t have that. She had to concentrate on survival, not indulge in a fantasy of what it would feel like to climb on top of the man and get off.
Egyptian Touch
By: Sierra Summers



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