Would you ever uproot your life and move to Alaska? In my romance series, Skye, my witchy heroine, does exactly that. And while Alaska is harsh and often terrifying, it’s also one of the most beautiful corners of the world.
I picked Alaska as the setting of my stories because to me, it represents the ultimate wilderness - and what better place to set a village full of ancient mythological beings? My sea dragons feel right at home in that raw, beautiful state.
I’ve never traveled there, but it’s one of the top destinations on my to-go list. Do you keep one of those as well?
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Here are some of the resources I found when researching the land - they made me fall in love with Alaska! And below, I share a steamy little excerpt (NSFW!) from Tempted, the first book of my reverse harem paranormal romance series.
Wild Alaska - a BBC Earth documentary in three parts. It's beautifully shot and so, so interesting! My kids loved it too.
Win the Wilderness: Alaska - this is a reality show I found on Netflix! It's not at all flashy or dramatic, but there's amazing nature and a cool concept that I loved. I still follow some of the contestants online and they've gone on to do some amazing things.
Alaska.org - this is hands-down the best general resource I found on Alaska! It features information on nature, wildlife, traveling and so much more.
Molly Harper's Naked Werewolf series - okay, so this is a fictional series, but it's heaps of fun! It's funny paranormal romance at its best.
Now I’d love to share a teaser with you! Skye and Jack are just getting to know each other, and Jack has invited Skye for a hike. She’s a city person usually, but she’s slowly falling in love with the beautiful land - and with the men who live there. Warning: NSFW! ;)
I am no longer convinced any of this is fun. In fact, this is about as far from fun as I can get, and I intend to tell Jack all about that when I catch up with the bastard. I swipe at my brow with my hand, and my bracelet scratches my cheek. Just perfect. He’s left me alone on this path to Hell. He claims he remembers a cool picnic spot just ahead. He went scouting and left me alone in the wilderness, where a bear could come and eat me at any second. Or a wolf. Or a starved fox. Because I’m gods damned delicious. I might be sweating inside my fleece-lined jacket on this gorgeous day, but I still smell good.
I round the corner then stop, my feet rooted to the ground. Below me, the most spectacular view unfolds, and I’m left speechless.
The ground slopes gently down from my standpoint, a soft valley covered in meadows. It’s pink—the exact hot pink of the flowers I picked earlier in the week. Fireweed, Aiden had called them. Now I see why: the ground is ablaze with color, and there’s such beauty in this stark scene that my breath catches in my throat.
Far beyond to the left, the gray ocean meets a shore hidden by emerald-green spruce trees, and even farther out, the sea melts into the pale-blue sky.
“What do you think?” Jack says from my side. “Was this worth the hike?”
I didn’t hear him come up to me, but I reach out and take his hand, our fingers twining together as though we’ve done this a hundred times. “Definitely,” I whisper.
He hums in approval and lets me gaze out for a minute longer. Then he gently tugs my hand. “Come on, you can still see the view from our picnic place.”
Jack leads me to an open, sunny spot just ahead, where he has spread out a checkered picnic blanket. On it, he has laid out an entire feast of English muffins, cold ham, hard-boiled eggs, white cheese, and shiny red apples.
“Oh wow,” I breathe. “This is why you left me at the mercy of bears? I might just forgive you.”
We sit, and he prepares me a cute little sandwich. It’s fantastic, the ingredients fresh and savory, and the two bottles of cider he brought to go along with the food are still cold. We fall on the feast like famished beasts. It’s probably all the fresh air and the hiking that have done a number on us. Jack, of course, looks as though this was a gentle Sunday stroll.
“Do you go hiking often?” I ask, curious to know more about him.
He gives a one-shouldered shrug and cores another apple, passing me the slices. “I’m more of a swimmer. But yeah, I know these hills pretty well.”
I glower at the barely there footpath we’d ascended. “You and the deer, huh?”
Jack snorts. “The deer heard you coming from a mile away and ran.”
“Oh!” I nudge his shoulder in mock-anger. “Rude!”
He catches my hand and kisses the fist first, then unfolds it and presses his lips to my palm. It’s unexpected and intimate, and I forget all about the apples and the muffins. All I see is the handsome guy lying on his side, his t-shirt riding up to expose a sliver of flat, muscled stomach. He’s looking at me like I’m more beautiful than the view, more beautiful than the sky itself.
I lean forward, my hands on his shoulders, and touch my lips to his. He waits for a beat, letting me decide what I want, so I press harder, tumbling him back on the picnic blanket. Then I’m straddling him, and he’s crushing my hips in a grip so strong, it’s almost painful, and we’re kissing. And gods, this guy can kiss. Our tongues meet, and he tastes of apples, and I can’t get close enough, can’t touch enough of him.
Jack curses and flips our positions. Suddenly, he’s above me, his gray eyes intent on my face. His fingers go to the hem of my jacket, and he pushes up the layers until I’m exposed to my bra. With sure hands, he palms my breasts, flicking his thumbs over my nipples. I arch off the ground at the sensation. His hands are so warm, but the autumn air in Alaska is cool, even though we’re lying in a patch of sun. The contrast is stimulating, whipping my awareness even higher.
“I wanted so much to touch you earlier,” he mutters.
His tongue grazes my earlobe, then he takes the soft skin between his teeth. I moan with pleasure, seeking contact with his hands, but he keeps the pressure light, teasing.
“Jack,” I gasp. “I know.”
He laughs breathlessly and presses his forehead to mine. He rocks his hips forward, his erection dragging over the seam of my jeans, delicious but not nearly enough.
“You know, huh?” he says. “Did you enjoy teasing me?”
He tweaks my nipple, and I shout his name, safe in the knowledge that we’re the only people for miles.
“Yes.” The word comes out on a pant. “And you loved it.”
Jack kisses me again, passionate, his stubble rough on my skin. It’s the perfect burn. As though he can hear my thoughts, he leaves my mouth and goes lower, where he tugs aside the cup of my bra to free my nipple. A second of cold air, then his lips close around it, hot and sensual.
I clutch at his head and try to catch my breath, but he won’t let me. With deft fingers, he undoes the button of my jeans and pulls down the zipper. Then he pauses for the briefest of moments, his clear eyes meeting mine.
I give one curt, decisive nod. There is no other answer I could give him, not when I’m burning up inside, empty and needing something. It’s that incredible anticipation of pleasure, the surety that this will end in an incredible orgasm, that fuels me even further. I grab at him, pull him up, because I want to touch him, too.
I slip my hands under his t-shirt and find rock-hard muscle, a dusting of hair, his flat nipples. He hisses when I scratch my nails over one, then kisses me again, stealing my breath. He slips his fingers below the waistband of my jeans and cups me with his large hand.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Fuck, Skye.”
I rock into his hand, and he obliges. He finds my clit, teasing it with one blunt fingertip. Every stroke sends shimmers down my nerve cells, building sensation. His gaze is trained on me, and I know he’s watching me for clues, so I tell him where I want him.
“More,” I demand when he hits exactly the right spot.
His grin is so confident, I want desperately to wipe it off his face and do to him what he’s doing to me. But he pushes my hand away.
“Later,” he growls into my ear.
Then he kisses me again, and I go off, arching my back as the orgasm hits. It’s beautiful and scary, more intense than any I’ve had—solo or with a guy. And he hasn’t even taken his jeans off.
I cling to him, and he takes me through the last tremors of my pleasure, burying my face in the crook of his neck, panting against his skin. He smells incredible, and I lick his Adam’s apple, unable to help myself. He shudders, then nudges my chin up to claim my mouth in a deep, meaningful kiss that brings tears to my eyes.
I blink them away quickly. I have no idea what he’d think if he saw me cry now, and I can’t think of a faster way to kill the passion than bursting into tears right after a fantastically hot orgasm.
I’m proven wrong thirty seconds later, of course, when a moose wanders straight up to us.
Gasp! A moose! :) Alaska is an unpredictable, intense place, and wildlife encounters are more common than Sky knows. If you’d like to find out what happens next with Skye and her men, grab Tempted and dive right in.
And if you have any favorite movies/tv shows/books/etc about the state, I'd love your recommendations!