Then the next thing I know, I’m in the hospital parking lot with a looming deadline and a flat tire when Liam Dailey sidles up on a Harley, all brooding intensity and shaggy blond hair.
He’s determined to be my savior. But I make a terrible damsel in distress. The verbal sparring is delicious foreplay and in a weak moment, I give him my number.
It’s a mistake.
See, my life is planned down to the very last detail. While it hasn’t always been a fairy tale existence, I’ve never wanted for anything. Now it’s my turn to give back, and I won’t rest until my debts are paid—all of them.
And no one, not even Dr. Dailey, with his irresistible dimple and guarded past, will derail everything I’ve worked for. I won’t risk it. I can’t.
If I could change the past, I would. For me, and for her. Especially for her.
They call me Dr. Dirty, and I let them.
My colleagues mean it as a joke, but they have no idea how stained my soul really is. The promises I’ve broken. The people I’ve failed. The shame that clouds everything.
The only time I feel like a decent human being is when I’m at the hospital surrounded by patients—people I might actually be able to save. God knows I’m past salvation myself.
Despite my sins, and there are plenty, I’m chasing redemption. A second chance. I might not deserve it, but I want it.
What I’m not looking for is a warrior princess with a forgiving heart—until I meet Juliana.
When she peers into my soul, she sees light where I see darkness. Now redemption isn’t enough. I want her too.
But the road between us is littered with landmines and secrets—most of them mine. And I’m not sure I can put the past aside to be the man she deserves.
The rules of the contest were simple. Design a new logo for Morgan Financial Holdings, wow the judges with my mad skills, and bam. I get the job. Easy, right? Nope. I didn’t account for the annoyingly gorgeous Easton Roman, strolling late into orientation like he’s God’s gift to women. Puh-lease. Acting as if already crowned champion, the jerk had the nerve to flirt with me! <insert multiple expletives> He may have everyone fooled, but I see him for exactly what he is. Temptation. Easton can do whatever he wants to steer me from my eventual victory, but two can play at that game. If I have to flirt back, I will. If he wants to kiss me, bring it on. At some point in the game, it became real; our connection grew. I thought when the judges selected the winner, it would end us. But what really shattered our relationship was something neither of us saw coming.
Chloe He’s back. Jameson Maine. The boy I used to love. The man I love to hate. Hate like it’s a hobby. Like it’s my job. Ironic, since love is my profession. But with the passage of time, I’ve finally healed. Repaired the broken parts his betrayal shattered inside me, and silenced the haunting memories of what he took from me. What he made me give up.
Jameson She’s still here. Chloe Morgan. The girl I left behind. The woman I can’t let go of. No matter how many miles. No matter how much time. Annoying, since love is my nemesis. But with the death of my father, I’m forced home. To finally face the ramshackle remains of my family’s estate, and the lying woman who broke my heart and ruined me for life. Who’s ready to do so again.
Tears were shed, lies were spread, and secrets were kept that fateful summer ten years ago. But no longer. Now exposed, those skeletons rock our worlds all over again. But two things remain the same… Love. And hate.
When dealing with an annoying ghost, an emerald worth a small fortune, and a sexy-as-hell Highlander willing to lift his kilt, what could possibly go wrong?
Quinn is about to find out just how deadly that combination can be.
Psychic medium Quinn Thatcher prefers working with the dead over the living. Ghosts love her sharp tongue and sassy attitude. That is until a Scottish ghost invades her home and demands she help him. All she had to do was return a gem to its rightful owner. Easy…right?
Scottish laird Collin Menzie’s life takes a drastic turn when a beautiful American shows up to return his emerald. Her presence makes him question not only his destiny but also hers when things start to turn deadly, and both of their lives are on the line.
Series Reading Order
Deadly Intent
Psychic Link
Psychic Charm
Psychic Games
Deadly Dreams
#MeettheAuthor
Kate Allenton loves reading and writing everything, romance, mystery, and suspense while including a supernatural flare.
She offers a reading escape where strong women with special abilities have to fight for their happily-ever-after and sometimes the line between good and evil is blurred.
Most of her books are set in Florida because she craves sunlight. If she had to choose between being psychic or having a super power, she’d pick psychic ever time.
She was a 2014 Rom Con Reader Finalist in Romantic Suspense for her book, Deadly Desire (Carrington-Hill Investigations). In 2017 her book, Maid of Honor, in the Wedding Dreams Box Set hit the USA Today Bestsellers List.
Meiling — All I’ve ever known is pain. My life has been far from a fairy tale. No parents. No friends. Just an endless nightmare that I can’t wake from. Until the day a man offered me his hand and promised to keep me safe. I’ve never trusted anyone before, but there’s something about him. Maybe it’s insane, but I know he won’t hurt me, and when he puts his arms around me, for the first time in my life I feel loved.
Dingo — I’ve always had a soft spot for women and kids in trouble. One look at Meiling, and I knew I had to protect her at any cost. The beautiful girl with the wounded soul. After all she’s suffered, all I want is to make her smile, make her feel secure, and give her a chance to find happiness. But first, I need to take out the men and women responsible for hurting her. It might get ugly, and messy, but they don’t call me Dingo for nothing. I’m a crazy bastard, and I won’t stop until she’s safe. I just didn’t count on falling for her along the way.
Publishers warning: Meiling’s past isn’t pretty. Dingo and Meiling’s story deals with issues of human trafficking, bureaucratic corruption, and vigilante justice. This book contains darker themes that may trigger some readers.
The new-ish compound for the bikers wasn’t too terribly far from the Ruby Slipper, but walking in four-inch heels made it feel like I’d hiked for miles by the time I reached the gates. I had my large bag slung over my shoulder that had everything I owned, which wasn’t much, and I fully expected the jackass at the gate to dig through it. He eyed it a moment, then raked me over with his gaze from head to toe.
“You here to party?” he asked.
I winked and gave him a sexy smirk. “You know it.”
The guy chuckled and waved me through. I sashayed through the gates and up to the clubhouse. Music was pounding so loud I could hear it clearly through the closed door and windows. When I pushed my way inside, the thick smoke clinging to the air made my eyes sting as I squinted and tried to take it all in.
“Meiling?”
I blinked and jerked my head to the right, my jaw dropping as Beau came toward me, shoving his way through the crowd from the bar.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, his tone a little harsh as he glanced around.
And just like that, the heart I’d thought I didn’t have anymore broke in two. Of course. Me being here would embarrass him. If I’d known Beau was part of the Devil’s Fury, I’d have kept my distance. The fact I hadn’t seen him since he ran should have spoken volumes. I didn’t blame him for not coming back for me. And I didn’t blame him now for the frantic way he scanned the crowd, as if he were afraid someone would link the two of us together.
“I’m sorry, Beau. I didn’t know you were part of the Devil’s Fury. I wouldn’t have come if…” I swallowed hard.
Beau jolted forward, and a large man leered down at me. “Prospect, you know the rules. Patched members get the pussy first. Go tend the bar.”
The leather vest he wore said Scorpion on it. I assumed that was his name. He wasn’t bad-looking, not that looks had ever mattered to me. But this was Beau’s territory, and I needed to leave. Looked like I’d be sleeping in my usual spot after all.
“I was just leaving,” I said.
“Really?” asked Scorpion. “Because it looked to me like you just arrived. And, honey, I have plans for you.”
“I didn’t know that…” I glanced at Beau. His jaw was clenched tight and his eyes were flashing. Yeah. I needed to leave. Seeing me would be a painful reminder to him. Thankfully, he’d never know what happened after he left. It was a secret I intended to take to my grave.
Without another word, I turned and walked out. I knew he wouldn’t follow, wouldn’t stop me. I didn’t know about the other guy, but he probably didn’t want some woman he had to chase down. I hurried through the gate and back onto the street, then made my way to the bridge on the outskirts of town. The laughter and crude jokes reached my ears long before the men came into view. I stopped, hesitating. I could still go down there, curl up and rest for a bit… for a cost.
Kilana knows what her eyes are telling her can’t be true.
There’s a naked man in her bed and he’s glowing. And then there are the solid black eyes, the floating several feet above the bed, and the most damning of all… he has antennas.
The newly divorced Kilana thinks she’s seeing things, but when he opens his mouth and tells her he’s hunting humans and his intentions are to devour her, Kilana knows she has an alien problem.
But who will help her get away from the admittedly sexy creature that wants her pleasured and fattened until her flavor is perfect? Maybe her hair-brained friends Se and Lena can help her avoid the big suppertime cut…
Or maybe she’s on her own with the drooling, leering, orgasm-delivering fiend. And maybe dating an alien won’t turn out to be as big a problem as she thinks.
“You have antennas.” Kilana peered closely at the man who was resting rather comfortably beside her on her bed. Somehow, he made the huge California King feel like a college dorm twin.
“And you do not,” he helpfully pointed out, with a black-lipped grin that made his spiky white teeth look all the more deadly.
And, of all things, his long black hair was tied back into a braid that seemed to snake around his firm, pale body. His eyes were a solid black, too, and she was sure if she weren’t so hung over, she would probably be screaming bloody murder right about now.
And the man was naked.
There was only one explanation for this phenomenon. She was still drunk.
“I’m going to close my eyes and count to ten,” she whispered, her head not willing to take even the shock of her own voice raised to a normal conversational tone. “And when I open them, you are not going to be here. Do you understand?”
He nodded his head sadly, pouting a bit. But she hardened her heart. She didn’t have time for imaginary beings in her bed. She was a newly divorced woman, and she had things to do.
Like maybe wake up sober and get her divorce papers framed and gilded.
She peered at him again and had to blink fast and swallow hard. He had the biggest eyes she had ever seen. Those large, liquid eyes were solid black; there was no white at all.
It appeared that all the white seemed to have leaked out into his pale skin. It was kind of a molten silver, rather uncommon but certainly not too abnormal for a figment.
But his head nodding was making her dizzy.
“Don’t nod.” She swallowed again, holding onto a moan with the persistence of a clinging vine of ivy. “You’re making me seasick. God, you’d think that my own figment wouldn’t be so monochromatic as to cause seasickness. I thought I had more imagination.”
So she closed her eyes, inhaled softly, exhaled long, and started counting.
“One figment two many. Three reasons to never drink again four any reason. Five senses going crazy, and six is the devil’s number to remind me to stick to seven, heaven’s number, unless it is the number of tequila shots. I should not have eight the worm thing last night and nine martinis are more than enough, especially at ten dollars a glass.”
She opened her eyes, but the very pale and very monochromatic creature was still lying next to her in bed.
“You’re still here,” she moaned, dropping her head back onto the pillows.
“Yes, I am,” he replied, before reaching out with one finger — one finger with the longest black fingernail she had ever seen. “And I will be here for a while.”
He tapped her on the nose, and she knew her eyes were crossing as she stared at his finger, but that was one awesomely sharp-looking talon.
“Doing what?” she asked, wondering if it was insanity to talk to an obviously drug-induced creature from her boring imagination.
Maybe someone had slipped her Special K. Ketamine was said to produce very believable hallucinations in users. Maybe someone had slipped her some and had their wicked way with her prone, helpless body.
Then again, maybe not.
She thought about it for a second, and none of her girl parts seemed particularly sore. Her va-jay-jay felt normal and unused as usual. No odd taste in her mouth, other than stale beer and regret —
“I am hunting.”
“Yeah.” She scrunched her nose and thought for a moment. “That makes sense. Hunting, in my bed, while totally naked. Yes, that makes perfect sense.”
He remained silent and smiling, showing off that mouth filled with fangs.
“Okay, no, it doesn’t.” She winced at the lancing pain in her head. “What exactly are you supposed to be hunting in my bed at –” She glanced out the window, noting it was still night. “–o-dark-thirty? Tell me that, Mr. Monochromatic Figment of My Imagination.”
“I am not a figment.” He stopped smiling. “And my coloring is very nice for my people. It is considered very attractive.”
“I’ve hurt my figment’s feelings.” She groaned, rolled over and closed her eyes again in an attempt to make him go away. But when she opened her eyes, he was still there and waiting to speak.
“I don’t have feelings in the way that you mean.” He pouted prettily.
“Of course not,” she allowed, wondering when she had actually slipped around the bend into insanity.
“And I am not a figment. I am a Scrimtat from Veta Belga.”
“Scrimtat, sure,” she spoke around a yawn. “I can tell by your very black lips and your very black hair.”
“My tongue is black, too. See?” And he stuck out the longest black, forked tongue this side of a freak show.
“I can see why I dreamed you up.” Her voice went thready. “Each fork in your tongue operates individually?”
She had to know. There were so many things she could imagine him doing with that…
Stephanie is a USA Today Best Selling, multi published, multi award-winning author, Master Costumer, handicapped, wife and mother of two.
From sex-shifting, shape-shifting dragons to undersea worlds, sexually confused elemental Fey and homo-erotic mysteries, all the way to pastel-challenged urban sprites, Stephanie has done it all, and hopes to do more.
Stephanie is an orator on her favorite subjects of writing and world-building, a sometime teacher when you feed her enough tea and donuts, an anime nut, a costumer, and a frequent guest of various sci-fi and writing cons where she can be found leading panel discussions or researching varied legends and theories to improve her writing skills.
Stephanie is known for her love of the outrageous, strong female characters, believable worlds, male characters filled with depth, and multi-cultural stories that make the reader sit up and take notice.
📚📚🐺🐺Two excerpts from A Pack of His Own volume 1:📚📚🐺🐺
Excerpt from Hunter’s Claim:
A strong, well-remembered hand closed around Charlie’s automatically outstretched right. Then the man before Charlie pushed that hand aside and grasped Charlie’s left, white cane and all.
Charlie laughed as lean, muscular arms pulled him close and tightened around his back. It wasLuis. His nose had been right.
“I was planning to see you here,” Luis whispered in Spanish, his voice richer than the thrum of the best-played bass. “But I didn’t think it would be so soon.”
Charlie drank in Luis’s scent, relishing how Luis held him. Then he pulled back slightly, though he was still safe in Luis’s embrace. “It’s good to see you.” That was an understatement, and he was hard-pressed not to resume the kisses he’d run from in March. He had no right to such a warm welcome, and for a breath his heart lodged in his throat.
Then another smell — a stench compared to Luis’s heady aroma — invaded the library, and Charlie stepped away completely. He held up one finger. “Un momento.”
Luis retreated several paces, and Charlie blinked at the psychic vampire’s discretion. Luis hadn’t possessed anything close to circumspection or respect for duty when they’d worked together in Tampa.
Charlie went to the library doors, meaning to close them, but the werewolf he’d smelled stood before him. He made the conscious switch to English, realizing he must be overwhelmed by Luis’s presence if the change needed to be willed rather than instinctive. Or maybe I’m intoxicated again. As he’d been when he and Luis had tumbled into bed for a single, blissful hour. Maybe it wasn’t the Lady Lavender drinks that got me drunk in March. It could’ve been Luis.
Excerpt from Tracker’s Fate:
Jeremy frowned as he put the first of the pans under the running water and squirted soap in. It would do no good to attempt inviting more information through silence; Ethan was an old hat at keeping things to himself. “What is a haint anyway? Besides a chicken-fried Southern ghost?”
“The words ghost, zombie, half-vampire, and weird distant cousin of the wendigo can all apply to haints.” Ethan slapped his palm down on the lid of one plastic container, producing a hollow click that strangely resembled the noise a handgun made when cocked.
Jeremy decided that probably had to do with the acoustics in the huge kitchen. “That is not helpful,” he answered in a dry tone he hoped would make Ethan laugh.
The SearchLight tracker snickered; the tension in the room dropped. “Thankfully we went in with our eyes a little open to the possibilities, or…” Another lid clicked into place.
Jeremy scented the air, searching out Luis Delgado’s unique aroma. He thought the psychic vampire was outside. Perhaps with Charlie. “Did this haint bite you or stab you?”
“Bite. I fell on her from above before she could claim another victim. But she twisted under me like a snake. I saw her eyes just before she showed her fangs. As we were told, she was starving.” Ethan approached the sink with slow, dragging steps. “I had to kill her.”
Jeremy considered the tense line of Ethan’s shoulders. SearchLight trackers were, by definition, spies, stalkers, information gatherers, and more than occasional executioners. Not a single one had been pressed into service. “Do you regret becoming a tracker?” he asked as he squirted soap into the hot water. He began dumping dishes into the mix almost indiscriminately, ninety percent of his attention being for Ethan. I could almost be attracted to this quiet-speaking werewolf with so much fire in his soul. Almost, however, was the operative word. Ethan could laugh as well as any other wolf, but his reticence sometimes annoyed Jeremy.
The two of us would not make a good match, Jeremy told his lonely heart.
Ethan opened and closed a nearby drawer, his movements gentle and slow. “I used to love it.” He flipped a towel over his shoulder. “Did your run help?”
Jeremy scowled. “You’re an ass.” He faced Ethan, forgetting the dishes. “How long, exactly, were you going to wait before telling me you’ve decided to follow my every movement?”
Ethan nodded toward the faucet. “Maybe you should turn that off.”
Snarling, Jeremy did so. “Well?” he demanded, his anger increasing when he saw Ethan wasn’t flinching. Not that I’m trying to scare him, but he’s a less dominant wolf. He should cower before me. Jeremy cursed, hating himself for wanting Ethan submissive to his will. He whirled back to the sink and plunged his hands into the nearly scalding water. He seized a pan and a sponge and tried to take out his building fury on something inanimate. “You are a tracker, but that doesn’t give you the right to spy on me.”
“Luis and I returned from Albion half an hour before dinner. Neither of us was in a position to hunt you.”
Jeremy thudded the still soapy but degreased pan into the second sink for Ethan to rinse. “Then how do you know I was running?”
“You smell of Queen Anne’s lace, a mix of wild grasses, and the exhaustion that comes from changing too quickly and too often from your human guise to that of the wolf.” Ethan rinsed off the pan and set it in the drainer. He did this with exquisite care. “Please don’t accuse me of treating a pack member like a rogue haint.”
I’ve teamed up with some other authors for this special Book Funnel promo — discounted fantasy books with kick-ass heroines. What more could you ask for?
My book, Not My Shifter, is available as part of this special promotion for only $0.99 during the month of January! As a bonus, you also get Sinfully Cursed by Kate Allenton in the same volume!
Click the banner to see the 70+ fantasy books currently marked down for this special offer.
About NOT MY SHIFTER …
Devlin St.Claire is a whole lot of trouble, with a badge. Kicking ass and arresting unruly paranormals is all in a day’s work for Devlin. Her hatred for the shifter population has gotten her into more trouble than not, especially with her boss. She’s a little spitfire just waiting to explode on the first shifter who crosses her path. Imagine her surprise when that shifter turns out to be her mate. So what happens when her new mate is accused of not one murder but two?
She has no choice but to fight back the only way she knows how – a bit of detective work and a little brute force. One way or another, she’s going to prove that Jameson Starke is innocent.
As the sexual tension becomes damn near unbearable, only one question remains. Will she be able to walk away from one night of passion, even if his life depends on her staying?
About SINFULLY CURSED…
A wingless fairy, a demon, and a crystal sound like the making of a bad joke. When hardnosed cop, Quinn Montgomery, unknowingly walks right into the middle of a P.I.T.S. investigation where he discovers all three in an abandoned alley, there was no way to prepare himself for how his life was about to change. When a newfound destiny is thrust upon him, he falls into a chaotic world filled with unfamiliar rules and a bossy fairy he’d like to seduce.
Fairy, Parker McKenna, has worked hard her whole life to overcompensate for her short comings. Proving herself everyday by catching the bad guys has become second nature to the P.I.T.S. Detective. When one bad bust goes wrong and a human almost dies on her sting, she deserves whatever punishment she has coming. Nothing could have prepared her for the curve ball thrown her way. With off the charts sexual tension, and a witch’s warning to keep her hands to herself, what’s a fairy to do?
A curse. A family secret. A hidden agenda. Against all odds, Parker will do anything to save Quinn, even if it means saving him from himself.
What better way to kick off the new year than with a book sale?
Want some hot paranormal and fantasy romances? Discounted for a limited time…
My shifter box set (Howl at the Moon) is part of this $0.99 offer.
Click the banner to see the 21 books available in this special Book Funnel promo.
About HOWL AT THE MOON (a shifter romance box set)…
Four sexy wolves and the women they love…
Moonlight Haunting – A werewolf. A ghost. And a psychic witch with a choice.
Wolf’s Mate – Connor has been tracking his mate for days, but will he find her too late?
Bewere of Faeries – Thrust in a whirlwind from situation to situation and man to man, Lexi is on a roller coaster ride trying to take back control of her life.
Captured – As Cady struggles with many challenges thrown her way, she finds herself caught in a difficult spot. While Marshall may not love her, he isn’t ready to let her go. But Brendan knows that Cady is special and will stop at nothing to make sure she’s safe.
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