Today I am excited to share the cover of Touch of Evil. International and award-winning author Cecy Robson shares the newest novel in her Weird Girls urban fantasy series. The tenth book in the Weird Girls series and first novel in the Touch series featuring Emme Wird.
Touch of Evil
Emme Wird, the healer and powerful telekinetic, hasn’t had the best luck with males. Her sisters have found their mates and their forever loves. After a series of disastrous dates, Emme will settle for a decent meal and polite conversation.
When the pack member Emme had dinner with is found dead, it is up to Emme and her werewolf pal Bren to solve his murder. But spine-tingling danger and touches with evil have ways of bringing close friends closer in ways neither would have expected.
Could the male Emme has searched for be right in front of her, as he has been all along? Or will evil snatch him away from her, just as it did once before?
Read an Excerpt
There’s a naked werewolf standing in front of me.
Let me kindly explain.
There’s a naked werewolf—a man who can change into a werewolf—standing naked, in human form, in front of me.
They do that a lot, change from beast to full naked glory. Typically, it’s pre and post bloody battle for the sake of the world and to protect its unsuspecting human populace. However awkward, I’m used to it.
“Like what you see?” he asks.
Make that sort of used to it.
He flexes and gives a little thrust to show off what he thinks are some delectable goods and oh, my…he has three testicles.
I slap my hands over my eyes. I take it back. I take it all back. I’m not used to all this.
“Emme,” Ted asks. “Did you just gag?”
I’m not a rude person.
I’m not a liar.
“Yes?” is my response.
Ted is a lot bigger than me. He’s also stronger and can snap my spine without changing to his beast counterpart. I keep my hands over my eyes. As a nurse by trade, and a supernatural fighter by sheer terrible luck, I have seen things, ugly, frightening, and unexceptionally evil things, and I’ve encountered creatures so menacing mere thoughts reduce me to trembles.
I draw the line at extra testicles.
The sound of slapping and bouncing skin causes me to shrink inward. Ted seems to be putting on quite the show. Honestly, it sounds like a one-man juggling show involving best-left-covered body parts.
I’m tired of dating Teds.
And humans, they wouldn’t survive me or the world my sisters and I were thrown into.
No, in order to be with me you must have something special.
And I’m not referring to what Ted is currently playing with.
My hands slip away from my face when I sense his approach.
“In my world, I’m revered for my virility,” he says to my back.
“Mm-hmm,” I reply. I pity the packmate forced to run behind him.
Ted is either referring to his obscenely large member weres are known for (“They’re built for attracting females,” my perky sister once explained) or the extra semen sack dangling halfway down his thigh. Neither impress me and neither does Ted.
I carefully step over the second of two discarded pizza boxes and make my way toward the exit.
My steps slow as I reach the door.
I turn to me left, then to my right. Something else is here.
Dread and resentment drag their long spindly fingers across my skin and hate coats my tongue.
I’m scared and on guard, and it’s not because of Ted.
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