Wicked Satyr Nights








Some creatures want to be found.

When Dr. Katerina Silverton travels into the Pine Barrens to make a documentary on the Jersey Devil, she doesn’t believe she will uncover any supernatural evidence. In fact, she only takes the job because it promises funding for future projects. So it is quite a shock to Kat when she finds herself face-to-face with the legendary beast she was sent into the forest to capture on film.

In ancient Greece, the god Pan made a terrible mistake which resulted in the creation of the Satyroi: a race of immortal satyrs. Centuries later, he lives secluded in the Pine Barrens, frightening mortals by taking the guise of an abhorrent local monster. When a beautiful woman shows up in his forest looking for proof of his existence, Pan can’t resist revealing himself to her.

Outside forces may be manipulating them both, pushing them together for nefarious reasons. Kat must decide if she could learn to love a satyr or if his appearance is more than she can handle. Can she resist Pan’s wicked nature, or will she give into the temptations beyond her wildest fantasies?


Mornings sucked. Kat opened her eyes and the events from the previous night assaulted her memory and she groaned. Peter was sitting on top of the chest of drawers, hands resting on the wooden edge of the piece of furniture visible between his denim-clad thighs. He arched a brow and smirked as she become aware of him.

“It wasn’t a nightmare, was it?” Her fear wasn’t with her anymore. Instead, she felt the pull of sadness gripping her heartstrings. What would to happen to her? Cindy and Rick must be freaking out. Oh God, I’ve been so focused on myself that I’ve not given them a bit of thought.

“I’m ‘fraid not, vixen. I owe you explanations, and now that you slept off your denial and panic, you might be able to handle it.” He snorted. “You know the word ‘panic’ is derived from the god Pan’s enjoyment of hiding in bushes and startling trespassers as they wandered through the Arcadian forests?”

Ugh, Greek gods again? She didn’t know why he found his comment so amusing. Why encourage him? However, she couldn’t prevent herself from asking, “Vixen?”

Peter released a great sigh, probably because she wasn’t biting at his baited hook. Was he disappointed she’d asked about that and not his strange Pan comment?

“Your hair and your spirit. Reminds me of a fox because of the color and your cunningness…” He scrunched up his nose. “Is cunningness a word? Anyway, you’re female, ergo, vixen. I would have thought the comparison would be straightforward.”

He pushed himself off the chest of drawers, the muscles in his arms flexing as he did so, and onto the floor. He landed lightly on his bare feet—the toed variety, not the hoofed ones. He was dressed in only a pair of jeans. If he was attempting to entice her with those scrumptious abs and the thick, corded muscle that led into the waistband of his jeans, well… Then she should probably be deeply ashamed it kind of worked, and that made her increasingly uncomfortable.

As strange as the whole situation was, her body still reacted to his. Not as strongly as it had the first time, but the arousal was there, beneath the surface. Too afraid to notice it the night before, it had reared its head once more. Her reaction was beginning to concern her. It couldn’t be natural, yet it didn’t feel wrong.

I’m losing my mind.

Peter held a hand toward her, and she warily accepted it. He pulled her to her feet and led her into the hall. Kat half-expected human hands holding elaborate candelabras to extend from the walls, moving with them as they passed, like in The Phantom of the Opera. Except Peter would turn around, half demon-faced, and proclaim he was the devil of New Jersey rather than the Opera Ghost.

Then he did turn around and gave her a reassuring smile and her stomach fluttered. She told herself it was fear, but she wasn’t exactly sure. Why did she feel things she shouldn’t with this man?

© 2015 Rebekah Lewis.