Coming 2022


But, If They Have Wings  A WINGS Prequel

New World
A Scifi Romance

Once you hear it, you'll never walk away.

And more, stay tuned...

Snippet from BRUTAL - VARIANT 5, Coming June 2022

Unedited, subject to change, copyrighted to Sandra R Neeley 2022.


Three weeks earlier…


Brutal stepped up on the raised dais in the dressing room of his bathroom in the hotel suite he’d rented for the night. The dais was surrounded on all sides by full length, floor to ceiling mirrors with any level of lighting one might desire, made available by the simple press of a button on the remote he held in his hand. He examined his appearance under standard bright lights, then lowered the lights for an impression of how he’d look under the dimmed lights of the ballroom the party he was attending would be held in.

He examined his reflection from his head down to his perfectly shined black shoes. He ran a hand ran down the length of his black, slim cut, Stefano Ricci Italian styled tuxedo. It hugged his frame like a second skin, but not uncomfortably so. It moved with ease as he moved, not binding, or folding in any way. With it, he wore a crisp white shirt, and a black bow tie. Instead of gold cuff links, he’d chosen black onyx on silver, and they played to the dangerous air that floated around him despite the elegant, sensual picture he made. His wavy dark hair was pulled back neatly at the nape of his neck and secured with a black leather hair tie before being wound around it and secured in a glossy, tightly held chignon. There was not a strand of hair out of place, it was as perfectly disciplined as the man himself prided himself on being. Unless of course he was in conversation with Ginny. Ginny seriously tried his patience and pressed the limits of his self-discipline.

His lips just barely curved with the hint of a smile. He planned on teaching her a thing or two about discipline, once she’d agreed to be his. Possibly before if she pushed him hard enough.

His eyes scanned the mirrors surrounding himself front, back, and sides, wondering if Ginny would respond positively to his presence — albeit uninvited presence — at the party. He’d told her he was escorting her, even if she’d refused. Surely, she should know him well enough to know if he said something he meant it. The fact that he’d refused to stop pursuing her, despite her insistence that she wasn’t his, was enough to prove that. It didn’t matter that she’d refused him. What mattered was that she was his mate, and he’d vowed to make her his.

Brutal allowed himself the luxury of picturing her standing here beside him. Her wild, light golden-brown highlighted curls pulled away from her face by his own hand as he looked down into her eyes. In his mind’s eye, he saw her tongue dart out and wet her lips as she anticipated his kiss.

“What do you want?” he asked her, his voice deep and raspy as he struggled to maintain control.

“To please you,” she whispered.

Brutal watched her silently until she whispered one more word. “Please.”

Brutal let go of her hair, allowing the long unruly curls to fall free and bounce around her shoulders and breasts. Otherwise, he didn’t move, allowing her to choose what she wanted next.

Slowly, Ginny sank to her knees before him, the silver lame of her gown shimmering with her every movement. She reached for the clasp on his trousers, then slowly unzipped them, allowing the tips of her fingers on her other hand to glide lightly against the length of his hard cock as she slowly undressed him.

The alarm on Brutal’s watch began to beep, startling him back to reality with a snarl when he realized it had been a fantasy. Nothing more than a fantasy. He took a deep breath and adjusted himself, checking to be sure no one could see his arousal beneath the edge of the tuxedo jacket he wore. Casting one last glance at the place beside him she’d have been kneeling if she’d really been here, he decided that maybe there was another use for all these damned mirrors than just checking his appearance. Maybe, if all went as he planned, she’d be kneeling here, on the dais, doing exactly what she’d been doing in his fantasy, before the night was finished. And he’d get to watch her from all angles as she did exactly what he wanted her to do.

Turning to leave the viewing dais set in the rear of the immense closet, he tossed the small remote onto one of the shelves lining the wall just outside it. As he strode through the suite, he pushed away all thoughts of the possibility she’d be irritated that he was there, slipping into the strong, infallible, completely controlled predator he’d been created to be. He’d realized that his interactions with Ginny were the epitome of a cat and mouse game. They each struggled for the upper hand. They each progressed forward until the other reached back, then they pulled away. It was the ultimate chase, and they both enjoyed it immensely. But tonight, he would win. He’d had enough. It was time to claim his female and bring her safely to his side. Tonight his predatory side would prevail.

It might take a little underhanded manipulation to make that happen, though. As long as it won him his woman, he was okay that.




Ginny checked her hair and makeup one last time before going downstairs to meet her taxicab. She’d decided she’d be drinking tonight, so it was best if she hired a car, rather than drive herself. She faced the mirror on the back of her bedroom door, backing up a few steps to be able to see her entire reflection, shoes and all.

Lifting a hand to gently move one of her curls from flirting with her eyelashes, she considered tying it back. She held it out of the way with her fingertips before smiling and letting it fall again. It spilled along with the rest of her corkscrew curls down to just at breast level. This particular curl arched up from her widows peek, slightly off center of her hairline, and then spilled over a small portion of her face. The seductive feel it gave her expression as she peeked at herself from behind the gracefully curling golden tipped strands was something felt she really needed on her side tonight. She straightened her back, held her shoulders back and turned this way and that, taking in every inch of her body and the way the silver lame dress she wore shimmered and hugged her figure.

Her hair was not quite brown, not quite blonde — it was somewhere in between. She’d been graced with a hair color that was not a single color; rather it was a mixture of all hair colors, except black. While she’d been young and in school, the other girls had always accused her getting highlights and lying about it. But she never had. The lighter golden blonde strands of her hair just naturally tipped the length of the curls she could never tame no matter how many hours she spent trying to straighten it to the sleek, straight curtain of hair that had been popular back then. The natural blonde streaks were heavier around her face, and the corkscrew ringlets only made them more apparent.

She’d years ago stopped fighting them and allowed them to do what they wanted. Unless she was at work, then they were pulled back tightly in a bun to keep them out of her way and to help maintain a more professional appearance. Tonight, she’d used only a bit of mousse in them to keep the frizz away, and let them do what they wanted. Taking her attention from her hair and spaghetti strapped silver dress, she looked critically at her face. Her light brown eyes were shadowed with a touch of dark green sparkle shadow on the crease of her lids, and faded to a pale brown and bone shadow to compliment the green. It made her eyes shine and jump out. Her plump lips were lined and despite the effort she made to hide her slight freckles, they still danced across her nose. She smiled when she looked at them, lifting a hand to touch them lightly. “Like fairy dust,” she whispered, and heard her father’s voice in her head when she said it.

She’d taken an unreasonable amount of time with her makeup. Not because she wanted to impress her coworkers, but because she wanted to impress Brutal. He’d said he would be there to escort her. But she’d not spoken to him about it again, and it had been more than a week since they’d discussed it. She was worried that maybe she’d pushed him away to many times, but she was too proud to ask again. If he wanted her, he’d be there. If he didn’t, then… Her instinct was to say, screw him. But, she couldn’t quite bring herself to say it. Visions of the dark, mysterious male haunted her dreams, and her waking thoughts as well if she was being honest. She’d always promised herself, she’d be singularly self-sufficient. Not relying on anyone for anything. Never depending on another for her happiness or her welfare in any way. Watching her father slowly die from a broken heart was enough to prove to her that giving that much of yourself to another was a sure fire way to end up miserable forever.

So, she’d been alone her entire life, other than the occasional three or four dates with someone she was attracted to. But, as always, once that third or fourth date had taken place, and she realized they were getting a little too comfortable with her, she’d end it — without fail, every single time. And she was happy. She was content. She was satisfied.

Then she’d met the Variant.

She’d seen Sin and Celia, and witnessed the intensity, the purity of what they shared.

She’d met Steel and seen the integrity and the selflessness he’d displayed while caring for Celia — someone else’s mate.

And she’d found herself in the middle of the Variant community, constantly surprised the grace with which a people completely wronged, went about rebuilding and living each and every day to the fullest. She’d developed an unequaled respect, and admiration for them all, and fully intended to apply to work at their medical clinic.

Then he’d happened. Brutal.

She’d found herself the unwavering center of his attention from the moment she’d stepped out of the ambulance returning Celia to Alliance. And she’d loved it. She’d craved his attention, even before she’d been assured he was safe. In all honesty, though, she didn’t need that assurance. All she needed was his eyes on her. Which is why she ran. The first moment she’d found an opportunity to leave Alliance and return to her normal, everyday life, she’d done so. Despite the fact that inevitably her actions on assisting in returning Celia to Alliance would be questioned, she’d returned to life as she knew it. The never knowing when the ‘safe’ life she’d created for herself would implode, was preferable to having the one thing that would crush her soul walk away from her one day.

She’d watched her dad live life as the shell of the man he’d once been. He’d been that way since she was a young child of only five or six. Her mother walking out the two of them was the reason. He’d never recovered. Instead he’d devoted his entire life to her and her happiness. He’d pretended and gone through the motions, but his smiles never really reached his eyes. He’d said all the right things at the right times, and done all the things a doting father would, but his entire persona was enveloped by a crushing sadness that even the small child she’d been recognized and continued to recognize until he’d finally died shortly after she’d graduated from highschool.

Officially, he’d died of ‘natural causes’ — organ failure. But Ginny had known better. He’d died of a broken heart. A broken heart that could have been avoided if he’d not allowed the woman he’d loved more than life itself to insert herself into his life. Which is why she could never have anything more than a few nights with Brutal. Or maybe because he was Brutal, and she knew exactly what he was to her, only one night. If he did show up tonight and insist on escorting her to this party, she’d let him. She’d let nature take its course, she’d throw caution to the wind. And then tomorrow, when the sun rose, she’d go back to her small apartment, in her small life, in her small world, where it was safe and no one could remove the light from your eyes and the fire from your soul, by deciding you were no longer important to them and leaving you behind.

Ginny took a deep breath and smiled at herself in the mirror. Tonight she’d seize all the happiness she could, because tomorrow, she’d walk away and never look back. She gazed at her reflection from her head to her toes, and the shiny, glitter-covered silver strappy heels she wore. She placed her right leg just a bit in front of her other leg, letting the slit fall open, and show the length of her thigh and the French manicured toes peeking out from the hem of her dress. “Now, if only he’ll be there.”

She smiled at herself once more, then walked out of her bedroom and into her living room. She picked up her silver clutch and looked inside to be sure she had everything she needed… lipstick, keys, I.D., cash and a credit card, and condoms. Then she turned off the light and headed downstairs to wait for her taxi.