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Project Sapphire: The World’s first AI. A top-secret project exposed to a select group of scientists. Lei Heaton, a man desperate to save his daughter, is at the top of the bionics empire. He not only hired the team to repair his daughter’s damaged body, he plans to reanimate her dead mind using the Sapphire AI.

A dangerous man—a killer that is no regular human…

Maxwell Landon—codename: Deimos—is the Adelphi Organization’s top agent. His M.O is simple: Never fail. He's used to annihilating anyone that gets in his way. But this time, he's being called to protect and deliver. Deimos is aware that this mission won't be like any other. Then he lays eyes on the resurrected Ms. Heaton, and instantly he knows:

That is not Magdalena Heaton.

And he will never be the same again.

Control, his most prized possession, is ripped from him with a single glance...

The violent attraction he feels for the girl complicates matters immediately. But what Deimos doesn't know is that things are about to get much worse. Sapphire isn't just a completely different person than the dead Ms. Heaton—she's the AI miracle of the century. An advancement that many would kill to own.

Including himself, no matter how hard he fights against it.

A girl determined to protect her creator. A man determined to protect her...

Despite the fact that she is not Magdalena, Sapphire is bent on taking her place as Mr. Heaton's daughter in order to keep her creator safe. Deimos knows that he has to honor her wish. But the thing inside him is demanding more. More than a touch. A lot more than a taste. It responds to everything about her...every stuttered breath that lets him know she wants him as much as he wants her.

How does he walk away when he knows that no matter how far he is from her, she’ll always be in danger and he'll always hunger for her?

Genre Erotica/ Sci Fi

Publication Date May 1st 2014

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✦Dream Cast✦

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Excerpt #3

“Hold on, I have some antibacterial wipes in my bag.”

I stop her with a hand around her wrist. She tsksand moves my hand off her, making sure I lay it flat on my abs, next to my other one. “Don’t bend your fingers.”

I ignore her soft scolding. As soon as she heals me, and the adrenaline starts to ebb, there will be a crash. Whether it’s a bad one, or an epically fucked-up one that lands her in a hospital, all depends on me calming her down a little now.

So I grab her wrist again, ignore her protest once more, and bring her closer.

She stumbles off her knees, catching herself by slapping a hand on my chest. Not quite landing on me, but so damned close. Her hair fans over her shoulders and over my chest, the dark blue ends caressing my neck. Her heat surrounds me. It’s like being drugged. My lids grow heavier and my internal scan beeps, alerting me to my rising heartbeat.

This was not what I had in mind when I pulled her closer.

Sapphire moves her hair away from her face. The scent of it reaches me, and I inhale, hungry to take more of it in. Remaining half-bent over me, she looks up at me from under her lashes.

My eyes drop to that fleshy bottom lip of hers. I want it in my mouth so I can suck on it.

I shouldn’t even be able to want such things right now.

Sapphire’s breath leaves her on a shaky exhale. She blinks, her lashes hiding those eyes from me for a moment. When she opens them, I see them land on my mouth. They’re darker, hungry, reflecting every damn thing I want.

I could get lost in this. I could lay here, and let her do whatever she wants to me.

My cock thickens in my jeans, throbbing against the material at the thought of being at her mercy like that.

She’s hyper-feeling and needs an outlet. She must be so fucking overwhelmed, and I know from experience that sex is a great way to burn it off.

But it can’t happen. I refuse to take advantage of her like that. What if I’m misreading the whole thing because of what I want? “Sapphire…”

She leans closer, her chest brushing mine. Her eyes are fixated on my lips. I react to that stare, my entire body revving up like it hadn’t been close to shutting down.

Integration at 30%. Cellular regrowth at 25%. Platelet reproduction at 48%.

My BCI’s way of saying that I should not be this excited right now.

I have no choice. No control over it. Sapphire is too close now, her breath teasing my lips.

She wants a taste.

I want my fucking tongue deep in her mouth. Want to trace it across the plump curve of her lips. Want to do things to her thatshe’s too innocent to deal with.

“Sapphire, we shouldn’t—uhn,” I break off on a moan at the feel of her lips, a soft caress that was more a tease than an actual kiss.

Sapphire echoes my moan with a small one of her own.

She’s shaking; I’m trembling beneath her, the muscles in my chest bulging as I struggle to hold myself back. My hands clench and unclench in the air at her sides, the thin, newly sealed skin stretching uncomfortably.

Her lips are shaking above my mouth, echoing the movements of her body. Her lashes lay on her cheeks; the space between her brow is furrowed.

It’s unquenchable, this God damned hunger. That tease of her lips has proved it. I’m screaming at myself to stop this even as my blood roars in my veins, the pressure so intense that it sets off my internal scan again.

I need to regain some control first then I’ll focus on the rest. Right now, the urge to flip her over and give her the relief she needs is fighting to take over.

She’d be so hungry underneath me, so responsive. I can tell.

Sapphire lets her eyes open halfway, enough to pierce me with her gold-and-green irises. “Deimos.”

I grind my teeth, but there’s no ignoring how she said my name. No denying what's in her tone and the next urge that blossoms, the one demanding that I make her say my real name.

Why do I care? I am Deimos. I’ve never needed anyone to acknowledge me as the man I was born as. It usually annoys me when people say my real name.

It wouldn’t annoy me with her. For some reason, I have this insane idea that hearing her say my real name would make me come so freaking hard.

You’re fucking crazy, and she’s going to regret this once she’s calmer.

So true, and the last thing I want to do is have her look at me with regret because I took something I had no business taking.

I cup the sides of her face in my trembling hands. Her lips part, and she shifts, her chest pressing against my own. Oh, God, her breasts on me. The way she feels sets my imagination racing.

Why the hell am I so attracted to this girl?

She blinks, eyes tracing the lines of my face, and her pupils dilate again. There’s a sense of wonder in her stare, a reminder that this is all new to her, and the angles of her face are pure perfection.

Made for sex, yet so freaking innocent.

My sick, starving cock pulsates, the moist head sliding across my jeans.

Pre-cum. Already. Fuck.

She’s made to attract any male, and on top of that, there’s no denying the lure of being her first. Not sure if Magdalena ever had sex, but Sapphire hasn’t. That much I can tell. And one day, some lucky sonofabitch is going to get to have her.

I want to be that sonofabitch. Real, real bad. Thinking about anybody having that honor makes my inner killer itch for death. The most bloody, messy, violent kind of death possible.

“Deimos.” Her tongue peeks out as she wets her bottom lip. “How are you feeling?”

Her question catches me by surprise, and a small laugh leaves me. She smiles down at me, and I just want to fist her hair and bring that mouth back to mine. “Not dying, if that’s what you’re asking.” Liar, my BCI seems to say as another beep sounds out inside me.

“Okay. That’s good.” She stares into my eyes, a stare so direct that I’m awkward before her. “Your eyes. They’re so blue.” Her eyes flicker back toward my lips. My turn to wet them, and the way her eyes get darker when I do thrills me. It shouldn’t, but it does. “Any chance you won’t mind me doing that again?”

She’s already heading for my mouth, so close now that if I lick my lips, I’ll taste her.

God, how can I be this hard right now? Seriously, how?

“Sapphire, we shouldn’t—” Once again, I’m stopped by her lips, and there’s no tease about it this time. She lays them fully over mine, and lust shoots right through my common sense. I growl under my breath as she shivers on top of me. She moves her lips a tiny bit and the wet sensation of them on my own snaps the last of my rationale.

Moaning, I slide one hand down the graceful curve of her back, stopping right before her ass. My other hand is still cupping her face, and I hold her still, tilting my head. Hot, panting breaths leave her as I rub our lips together, mixing with my own.

My tongue flicks out and tastes her parted lips.

Sapphire whimpers on top of me, her hands falling to the pillow next to my head and fisting the material.

I lose it.

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About the Author

N. Isabelle Blanco was born in Queens, NY (USA). At the age of three, due to an odd fascination with studying her mother’s handwriting, she began to read and write. By the time she’d reached kindergarten, she had an extensive vocabulary and her obsession with words began to bleed into every aspect of her life.

An avid reader in her teens, her fascination with Japanese anime eventually led her to the universe of fan fiction, which became her on-again, off-again hobby for the next ten years. During that time she amassed a following of fans that, by her own admission, she would never be able to live without. It was those fans who encouraged her to step beyond the fan fiction realm and try her talent in the publishing world.

N. Isabelle Blanco spends her days working as an author, web programmer, marketer, and graphic designer. That is when she isn’t handling her “spawn”, as she calls her son, and brainstorming with him about his future career as a comic book illustrator.

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