According to her equation, there’s no way I’m her perfect ten.
Ex-boxer Mike Logan struggles to put a brutal past behind and make ends meet as a bus driver. When a young runaway settles for an all-night ride, he seizes the chance to do a good deed—get her home safely. But first, they’ll drive around and talk.
What he doesn’t anticipate is that this broken night angel is also a sexy little minx needing a lot more…and not just the gentle kind.
**This is an expanded edition of the story previously featured in the anthology Passion, Pleasure, Pain in 2019**
#Dark #Erotic #Romance
Put the book on your to-read shelf on Goodreads
She gives me a long, languorous look. I think I know what it means: She’s interested by my wild side. Dark attracts dark. She believes she’s found the same kind of fallen angel as she is, a soul mate.
Wrong, kiddo. What you need is someone good, not broken like me.
She reaches over the table to pat my chest. “So hard. Jesus. You definitely work out.”
Her touch sends electric sparks to my groin. My cock pulses. I push her hand away. “Don’t do that.”
I sigh. “I’m thirty-two, you’re what?”
“Nineteen, that’s very young. I could easily be accused of taking advantage of you. Did you see how the waitress treated me?”
She crosses her arms underneath her boobs. “But I’m an adult, and I have boyfriends.”
“You have boyfriends.”
“Yeah.” She holds my gaze.
I don’t know why I had to make a deal of that.
She continues, “So, it’s not like I’d let anybody touch me if I didn’t want them to.”
“Well, I don’t want you to touch me. Let’s go.”
Lea Bronsen likes her reads hot, fast, and edgy, and strives to give her own stories the same intensity. After a deep dive on the unforgiving world of gangsters with her debut novel Wild Hearted, she divides her writing time between romantic suspenses, dark erotic romances, and crime thrillers.
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📚📚🐺🐺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.”
#MM #Mystery #Suspense #Crime #Violence #Detective #Profiler
Coulter and Woodard 1
by MJ Calabrese
Release Date: December 3, 2019
Friends since childhood, Albuquerque detective Eagle Woodard and criminal profiler Adam Coulter are dragged into a serial killer case. Gay couples are being murdered and tortured and the FBI needs their help to capture the sadistic murderer.
Deciding to implement a plan to trap the killer, Adam and Eagle go undercover as an involved gay couple. Or is it really pretend?
Faced with their toughest challenge yet, they must find the active serial killer before he strikes again. With the powers that be not cooperating and the killer proving to be elusive, will Eagle and Adam be able to stop the murderer while navigating their changing relationship?
PLEASE NOTE: This is the first book in an ongoing story arc. Although the case is solved, the relationship ends on a cliffhanger. Contains graphic violence and scenes of torture.
Get Book 1 in this series before book 2 releases on March 31, 2020!
Available on Amazon and in Kindle Unlimited!
About the Author
My mother now regrets her fateful words she offered the day I came home from our small town library in Palm Springs, California (yes, I’m a Cali girl) complaining that there were no more books to read. “Then why don’t you write some.”
My father never saw his old Remington portable until I entered college and they gifted me an IBM Selectric. By then I had produced at least two dozen unpublishable novels which make me cringe when I read them today.
I found inspiration in innumerable odd jobs (from migrant work as a Date palm pollinator to the person who cleans the washing machines at the launderette to professional Dominatrix) for stories. After a stint in Rehab for Alcohol and Heroin abuse (so when I write those scenes, I know what I’m talking about), I cleaned up and have stayed that way for 29 years. (Me and Sir Elton, LOL). My gypsy lifestyle gave me a unique perspective on the different people who inhabited the Washington, Oregon, Arizona, California, and New Mexico areas where I have lived.
After 3 very bad marriages to men, I finally figured out what was wrong and fell in love with a woman when I lived in Portland, OR 23 years ago. We’ve been married since 2008 (yes it was legal in California at that time). We now live in Asheville, NC and love the people in this liberal and accepting corner of the mountains of North Carolina.
To learn all about my upcoming releases, news, and specials, please follow or like me at any of the following links!
My Past, Your Future
By Gabbi Grey
Gabbi is offering a $5 Amazon GC and 2 ebooks of My Past, Your Future during the giveaway. Please use the Rafflecopter below to enter. Remember you may enter every day for your chance to win so be sure to follow along on the tour with us. You may find the tour locations here http://bit.ly/2OYUyh4
About My Past, Your Future:
Callum MacLaren, a professor from Scotland, visits Willow Springs, Vermont during the Winter Solstice to study and explore the rich history of St. Joseph’s Cemetery. His encounter with a sexy soldier in a tattered Civil War uniform is a captivating puzzle, and the more he learns, the deeper his attraction.
A hundred and fifty years ago, Elijah Freeman was killed during the Second Battle of Fort Wagner and woke up in Willow Springs, the only home he’d known. Alone, he roams the town, unable to leave or interact with a single soul until an intriguing Scot addresses him. Even stranger, the man can see him, hear him, and touch him–a sizzling caress that leaves Elijah aching for more.
But will Elijah return to his ghostly form when the magic of the solstice fades, or is Callum’s love enough to keep him in the land of the living?
Genre: M/M Paranormal Erotic Romance
My Past, Your Future Buy Links:
Excerpt My Past, Your Future:
“I’m not sure I have many answers.” And Elijah wasn’t. He’d figured a few things out over the years, but much of it was contradictory and nonsensical. Still, he relaxed a little, no longer on edge.
“Well, let’s start with you being able to touch people and them able to touch you.” As if experimentally, he placed his hand on Elijah’s. “You’re cold. Are you always cold, or is it the weather?”
Elijah cleared his throat. This was the first human touch he’d had in years, and it affected him more than he’d ever imagined. Not that he’d spent a lot of time wondering because he’d assumed it’d never happen. Should he have tried earlier, or was it, as he suspected, only this man?
Please don’t let go of my hand.
Cautiously, he curled his fingers, holding on tighter.
“As for temperature. I don’t understand. I don’t feel cold now, and I don’t feel hot in the summer. And summers around here can be brutal, despite how far north we are.”
Callum nodded. “Edinburgh, where I’m from, can get warm in the summer. But we’re closer to the northern point of the country, so it’s temperate as opposed to oppressive.”
His thumb caressed the juncture where Elijah’s thumb met his finger, and little zings shot through him. Like the sound he associated with the electric lights when they turned on at dusk. Of course, the whole concept of electricity was beyond him.
About the Author:
I live surrounded by trees, raccoons, deer, and other woodland creatures, on a mountain in beautiful British Columbia where my fur baby chin poo keeps me safe from nasty bears.
Working for the government by day, I spend my nights writing contemporary, gay, sweet, and dark erotic BDSM romances…and while I firmly believe in happy endings, I also believe in making my characters suffer before finding their true love.
Gabbi’s Social Links:
Publication date: November 26th 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
For single mom Tristan Maddox, moving to the small town of Broward, Georgia is the opportunity she needs to provide her daughter with a better life. A bigger house where they can each have their own bedroom, a backyard to play in, a place where they can put down roots and be part of a community, are all part of the reason she chose Broward as their new home. Nowhere on that list was her sexy next door neighbor, Owen, his adorably affable dog, Huck, or his crazy family.
Owen Gallahanger is perfectly content with his life the way it is. He has a job he loves, a family that he can count on, even if they drive him crazy most of the time, and his loyal sidekick, Huck. He isn’t looking for anything more, but after meeting Tristan and her daughter, he quickly realizes exactly what he is missing.
But not everyone is happy that Tristan is in Broward. As an unknown threat continues to escalate, Owen has to fight to protect the woman he loves, and their future together, or risk losing everything.
Behind the Scenes … writing My Pulse:
I’ve been putting pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard, to write stories since I was nine-years-old. The stories have certainly changed in content over the years! There was a lot less kissing, among other things, in those first few years. This particular story was several years in the making. I had the first three chapters written and was feeling pretty good, and then the bottom fell out of my entire world. My mother was diagnosed with stage four ovarian cancer. Listening to that diagnosis was one of the most devastating moments of my life. My amazing mother was a warrior during her treatment. I lived in awe of the strength she showed as she fought a disease that had taken over her entire body. In the end, it didn’t matter how hard she fought, and just a few short months after her diagnosis, I lost my best friend, and any inspiration I had for writing whatsoever.
It was a year before I sat down to start writing anything again, and several more months before I sat down to write with any sort of consistency. And that consistency was constantly interrupted. I have two kids who are involved in Scouts, which is an amazing program, but man do they keep us busy with their activities! I also work 45+ hours a week at my day job, decided to adopt three puppies, and felt like I should spend some sort of time with my husband. It didn’t leave a lot of time for plotting, or writing, or just being creative in general.
A lot of this book was written in the middle of the night, in those long hours where my mind wouldn’t shut off and sleep eluded me. I promised myself that when I started writing the next one I would get my act together. I told myself I would set specific times that I was going to write, I would sit at a desk, and eliminate any distractions. Ha! Pipe dream. I’m still writing in the middle of the night, on my laptop, with my headphones in to help drown out snoring (from both my husband and the puppies!) I’m still making it through the day by drinking enough caffeine to fill a small pool, though my kids have enjoyed the numerous trips we’ve made to Chick-Fil-A when I’m too tired to cook, and they love pajama Saturday’s because we’re behind on laundry.
It may have taken me years to write this story, but I think that made it all the sweeter when I finally got to write the end.