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About the author:
Mary Hughes (written Hug-he’s but possibly pronounced throat warbler mangrove) writes smart and sassy stories of action and love. She’s the author of the Pull of the Moon Series, the Biting Love Series, the Ancients Series, and the Lovless Brothers Series.
She’s a bona fide computer geek and performing flutist. (And piccolo, but we don't talk about that.) When this USA Today Bestselling Author isn’t busy finding the missing </> tag or blowing her lungs out, she’s reading or binging on The Flash, Instinct, or Agents of SHIELD…and petting the cats that inevitably end up on her lap.
What inspired you to write your book?
Living in a small town after spending most of my life in the city, I was a fish out of water. This book helped me see the best of both worlds.
Biting Nixie was my first published novel. After countless rejections, I took everything I'd gotten cheers on — humor, action, sex, snark — and stirred them into one unique story.
Biting Nixie contains adult language and situations.
Here is a short sample from the book:
In the center of the room, naked to the waist, was Julian Emerson.
He stood like some latter-day Goliath, his fists raised over his head. Muscles bunched and strained in his arms and chest. Loose black trousers hung low on lean hips. He slid one bare foot out, legs bent. Crossed powerful wrists in front of him. Pivoted and punched both arms up in a fluid harmony of motion.
My breath punched out as well, like I’d been hit by a truck. Julian’s body was beyond gorgeous. His abs were cut like diamonds, his chest was chiseled marble. He turned and his back…stars above. His back made me want to wrap my thighs around him and ride him like a horse.
Twin wings of pure, hard muscle flared from his narrow waist to his immense shoulders. I could see individual muscles work as his fists spun out in a ballet of power. A thin sheen of sweat slicked his skin. I wanted to lick it off.
He turned again and I was overwhelmed by color. Bronze skin, deep bronze nipples. Short black hairs feathered up the center of his abs and over his broad chest. Black glossy hair curled around his ears as his two-hundred-dollar haircut absorbed the sweat of his exertion. Laser-blue eyes, made even more startling by his black sweeping lashes, stared—
Julian Emerson was staring straight at me.