Thank you for having us on your blog today! We’re so excited to share the release of the second book in our Project Mars series, Future, Betrayed. For a quick idea about the series, check out this trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HU_Gcf7c5Fs
A little more about the book
Book 2 – Future, Betrayed – Available August 1, 2019 – a Project Mars story – futuristic, sci-fi, romance series by best-selling authors Jacey Holbrand & Elizabeth Monvey | Genre: futuristic, sci-fi, Alternative (MM), MPREG, Romance | Heat Level: 3 | Word Count: 35,000 | ISBN: 978-0-3695-0008-3 | Editor: Karyn White | Cover Artist: Jay Aheer
Blurb
In the future, be careful who you trust.
Ben Stockton lives on a dying Earth. A poisoned atmosphere and fertility issues are a few reasons people flock to the Project Mars Lottery, hoping to win a chance to go to the Red Planet. When his husband, Dain, is targeted as a potential DNA donor, the once exciting prospect of starting over turns into a nightmare.
Forced to work for the governmental scientific agency, Sector, Dain is sent to Mars while Ben has to remain behind. Separated from each other, they try to cling to the memories of their love as well as the hope that one day they’ll be reunited.
But Sector has different plans for the couple. Unbeknownst to Ben, Sector has used him as a test subject in a desperate bid to cure the sterility problems facing the human race. Impregnated and left alone, Ben stumbles upon the underground resistance. It will take all his strength to find the love of his life before Dain is lost to him forever.
Jacey Holbrand believes life and love comes in all forms and should be celebrated. She’s committed to her muse and writing so she can share her stories with readers. Hot days. Sexy nights. Come play in her world.Jacey loves to hear from readers!
Elizabeth Monveyis the pseudonym for a single mother from Los Angeles. She writes manlove stories, where the hero meets the man of his dreams because happily ever after is one of her favorite things.
Lissa prefers reading to cutting loose, but is willing to do whatever it takes to get the juiciest assignments for her job at a major travel magazine. Her chance finally arrives. She’s set to experience a posh Caribbean resort, a dream article and review except for one huge problem. It’s the anything goes theme week where nudity is expected and lusty hook-ups make threesomes look downright tame. Holy Hell. What has she gotten herself into?
Precisely what resort owner Jon Thorne thinks. Tall, dark, and luscious, he fears the randy male guests will eat her alive, resulting in a lousy review. His only option is to serve as her guide for every decadent delight from nude body painting to Dom’s Den where submission and punishment rule. Unless she wants to call the whole thing off…
And lose her chance with him, plus give up this gig? Dream on. Tempted beyond anything she’s known, she matches his passion and then some, surprising him during a sexy adventure like no other.
Shelby entered first, model tall and slender, dressed in a light green sheath that complemented her long, blonde hair. Her pretty face could have graced a teen magazine, the faint freckles splashed across her nose and cheeks adding to her youthful appearance.
She stepped aside.
A young woman stood behind her, her hair shoulder-length and partially pulled back. Several tresses hung free from her ponytail. The chestnut color proved rich, a contradiction to her pale complexion.
While her clothing…
Her loose-fitting beige pants and long-sleeved white top weren’t on par with the “anything goes” theme week, but the extensive material didn’t completely hide her curves.
He dragged his gaze back up to her glasses. They gave her an intelligent and serious vibe that also didn’t belong on this island.
She regarded the tan marble and gold trimming in here, graceful eyebrows arching.
The opulence was more than he preferred but impressed the partners. Confused as to why she’d followed Shelby inside, he glanced at her and mouthed, “who is she?”
She mouthed, “The writer.”
No way. He’d expected a guy. In fact, he needed an uber-extroverted one for a great review during the anything goes week, which got down and dirty fast. Not a woman who dressed like a librarian attending a spiritual retreat.
As a rule, he never judged. Taking a second look, he was surprised to find her pretty, her brown or hazel eyes and pouty mouth holding promise as to the possible fire smoldering inside. Possible being the operative word. She hadn’t breezed into here confident and ready for sin. Not a good sign for her enjoying the intimate events at the resort.
Shelby cleared her throat. “Lissa, this is Jon Thorne, the owner. Jon, this is Lissa Nelms, the writer from Exploration magazine.”
Lissa regarded the plush leather chairs, sofa, and his massive desk, then met his gaze.
Her cheeks pinked up, as they hadn’t earlier, lips parting, surprise or wonder flooding her features.
He wasn’t certain why her reaction to him was so intense … except it looked genuine. Maybe. Ever since Mackenzie had put one over on him, after the years they’d spent together, he couldn’t be sure about anything. Remembering his manners, he stood.
After taking him in from top to bottom, Lissa returned to his mouth, then his eyes. “Good afternoon.”
Her voice was surprisingly throaty. Sexy as hell.
His face and chest heated, a first during a business meeting or with any woman. Even those who’d been attracted to him hadn’t shown the same awe she did. Flattering, sure, but still… “Hi.” He rounded his desk and offered his hand.
She gripped it firmly, her fingers softer than a rose petal, her fragrance subtly sweet, gold flecks in her hazel eyes.
Nice. He stroked her thumb.
Her face flamed.
Time to stop touching her.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tina is an Amazon and international bestselling novelist who writes romance for every taste – ‘heat with heart’ – for traditional publishers and indie. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly,Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. Three of her erotic novelswere Readers’ Choice Award winners. Another three were named finalists in the EPIC competition. One of her erotic contemporary romances was chosen Book of the Year at the French review site Blue Moon reviews. The Golden Nib Award at Miz Love Loves Books was created specifically for one of her erotic romances. Two of her titles received an Award of Merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competition.Another two won second place in the NEC RWA contest (different years). Tina is featured in the Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. Before penning romances, she worked at a major Hollywood production company in Story Direction.
Blind Spot by Cynthia Sax: Years ago, Pavel lost his eye, three members of his pack and his position as alpha. Can Maggy help him find a reason to live again?
Whiteout by Shelby Morgen: Zan gives John a reason to want to live as a man again. But before he can make that kind of promise, he’s got unfinished business to take care of.
Silence by Lena Austin: Noel Miller, a vampire with a few scars of his own, wants to be more than Cam’s sign language interpreter. If only the werewolf will let him into his life — and heart.
White Heat by Shelby Morgen: Heather Grant’s got far too much experience working with stubborn males. She figures it would serve both Alphas right if their pride blows their cover. But someone’s got to salvage the mission.
“…a collection that grabs the reader, takes them on a journey, and ensures some cold showers. Erotic, captivating, and deliciously carnal are how I would describe The Dire Wolves Anthology. It is definitely worth reading, worth adding to one’s reading library, and well worth re-reading.”
“Danse Macabre” was a lousy choice for a ring tone, but Detective Cameron Douglas always thought about it when he had the least amount of time to change the ring to something else. The tune was the last he’d ever hear. Cam didn’t know that sad fact, or he’d have changed the ring sooner.
Cam snatched the phone out of his pocket and flipped it open as soon as he saw it was his boss, Lt. Kraynak. “Hey, Mark! You caught me just leaving the mayor’s office.”
“Yeah?” Mark’s voice always sounded nervous, but at that moment, he sounded as squeaky as a girl. Cam always wondered if Mark was as closet gay as Cam himself. “How’d it go?”
Cam sighed. The investigation into the death of the mayor’s secretary, Margaret Lund, was supposed to be kept very quiet and low-key. “We got the blood from her apartment at the lab, looking for DNA. They seem to be consistent with the defensive marks found on her body despite floating around in the St. John’s River for a while. I’ve got a few good leads.” He had to be vague. Cam couldn’t exactly tell his boss he was a werewolf and he’d caught an odd, masculine scent in Margaret’s apartment. He knew any sort of masculine odor didn’t belong in that apartment because Margaret and his mother had been lovers for over twenty years. Not exactly what you want the whole world to know. Mom had been in the closet all her life, and he wasn’t about to out her when she was mourning “Aunt Maggie’s” death. Dad would turn over in his grave, the day care she’d run for fifteen years would close, and her life would be in ruins. What she and Maggie had enjoyed just wasn’t ever going to be public, and that wasn’t admissible evidence anyway.
He could see it now. Him, on the witness stand. “Yes, Your Honor. I’m a werewolf you see, and I sniffed this odor…” He winced, even to himself.
“I don’t like it, Cam. You shouldn’t be on this case. Ms. Lund was your mother’s best friend. You could be called prejudiced in court.” Mark popped another gumball in his mouth. Cam heard it rattle against his teeth before it crackled as he chewed it into oblivion. Mark’d been trying to quit smoking again, and kept a gumball bank on his desk.
“I don’t like it, either, Mark. Where His Honor got the idea I’d be the only detective who could do the job is beyond me.” Cam was in sight of his car at last. The covered parking garage across the street from City Hall was a piece of shit like all the rest of downtown. Half the security cameras didn’t work at the best of times, and the roof leaked whenever it rained. So where was he parked? On the roof. In the rain. Of course. So he was wet. It was Florida. Not like he would melt. He was a werewolf, not a witch, and this wasn’t Hollyweird.
The beep in his ear made him jump, and the caller ID told him it was Mom. “Hey, I’m at my car. Hang on a sec.” Cam flipped over to his mother’s call and sat down on a bench about fifty feet from his car, in the shelter covering the elevator. “Hi, Mom.” He frowned and noticed the hood of his car was slightly ajar. That was odd. He distinctly remembered changing the oil the previous Sunday and slamming the hood closed because he hated working in the hot sun.
He never heard her answer. Hell, he never heard anything except the biggest boom on the planet.
Waking up wasn’t like someone flipped on a light switch. It was more like a lazy Sunday morning when you didn’t have to be anywhere or do anything in particular, so you could roll over and laze in bed. That is, until your bladder or some other bodily need woke you up.
What woke him up was pain. Cam had the worst headache ever, even beyond hangovers and mild concussions from playing rugby. Cam felt like he’d been run over by a semi, too, with a backache from lying in one position too long on top of assorted injuries. Worst of all was the ringing in his ears. Tinnitus, he guessed. Not bad, since Cam had to assume he’d survived that explosion. Hell, he counted himself lucky when he opened his eyes and saw his left leg in bandages, not a cast. If a headache, a bum leg, and a case of tinnitus were all he had to suffer through, Cam was happy.
A nurse peeked in. She saw Cam was awake and smiled at him. Her lips moved, but he couldn’t hear her over the ringing in his ears. She frowned when Cam told her she’d have to speak up, and would she bring him something for the headache and tinnitus? She turned around and walked out without another word. She was back with something she shot into his IV. Whatever it was put him out like a light. Pain, tinnitus, and consciousness all went away at once.
When next Cam could put two words together in a coherent sentence, the clock on the wall and the darkness out the window gave him a clue it was 7:30 PM, not AM. He’d slept away the whole day. Great. Now his ears were sore.
A young man in a lab coat read a book in the corner chair, even though the only light source was the fluorescent above the head of Cam’s bed. The guy’s eyesight must have been superlative. He looked up slowly, and Cam was completely arrested — pardon the pun — by his eyes. They were big, blue and so world-weary Cam wanted to — maybe buy the kid a cup of coffee and give him a sympathetic ear. Then the newcomer smiled, and the world was all sunshine and cheer. The young man tapped on the keyboard of his laptop without taking his gaze off Cam’s face.
Cam moved restlessly under that intense blue gaze that did not in the least match with the smile. Cam opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when the screen on a laptop left on his lap table brightened. He frowned and studied the screen. “Can you read this?” Surprised, Cam nodded without thinking.
The blue-eyed man smiled and nodded. “Good. How’s your tinnitus?” lit up on the screen in a standard IM chat feature of a common website.
“Um… should I answer aloud?” Cam felt suddenly adrift in a strange sea, unsure of himself for the first time since college. Still, he did an internal check, and the buzzing still filled his ears like a thousand crickets on speed. “Yep, still have the crickets.” The realization hit him. “The explosion caused this tinnitus, didn’t it?”
“Yes, Mr. Douglas. Please speak more softly.” The IM kept up easily, and the young man’s hands flew silently but rapidly over the tiny keyboard. Damn, this guy was good.
Oops. Cam wasn’t stupid. He knew that those with hearing issues often spoke too loudly, trying to over-compensate for their loss. He modified his volume. “Um. Sorry.” He clung to the thin thread of hope that the tinnitus was causing his hearing loss, but he knew a bunch of cops who’d neglected ear protection at the shooting range once too often. Tinnitus could be permanent, or worse, the symptom of something much, much worse.
The IM lit up with several lines in rapid succession. “My name is Noel Miller, and I am your ENT therapist.” Now the cheer was gone, and the face serious.
Cam’s heart hammered, and he swallowed to help his suddenly dry mouth. Fear, ice-cold and cruel, raced up his spine. Part of him was grateful he still had painkillers in his system. Deep inside himself, a little kid threw a major temper tantrum, even if he held himself rigidly under control. “I’m deaf, aren’t I?”
Someone cursed Lena Austin with “may you have a life so full you’ll have many tales to tell your grandchildren.” Lena’s a “fallen” society wench with a checkered past. She’s been a licensed minister, hairdresser, Realtor, radio DJ, exotic dancer, telephone service tech, live-steel medievalist swordswoman, BDSM Mistress, and investment property manager. Not necessarily in that order. She never finished that degree in marine archaeology, but did learn to scuba — she’s got a lifetime of “Research material!”
Hey, why waste these stories on kids who won’t listen anyway? Writing them down is a nice way to spend her retirement. What? You expected an ex-BDSM Mistress to take up crocheting or something? See all her books at http://www.LenaAustin.com.
Some girls dreamed of knights in shining armor. Cynthia Sax dreamed of dragons, magnificent flying dragons. Being a bloodthirsty little thing, Cynthia usually dreamed of these dragons eating the damsels in distress. Now, she dreams of them doing… ahhh… more pleasurable things.
Cynthia is happily married. Although her hubby has not yet shown any shapeshifting abilities, he does buy her medieval princess costumes to wear around the house. Cynthia’s rather traditional mother-in-law now always calls before visiting. You can learn more about Cynthia by visiting her website at www.CynthiaSax.com, her blog at http://tasteofcyn.com, or email her directly at Cynthia@CynthiaSax.com.
Shelby Morgen loves writing offbeat tales that defy as many rules as possible.
She likes chocolate with her peanut butter, suspense with her romance, and kink with her sex, and she’s always had a hard time keeping science fiction, fantasy and paranormal from mixing with her kink.
Shelby shares her belief in electronic publishing with her longtime friend and partner, Bill, her husband of nearly four decades.
Captive of a violent warrior race, deliberately injured and set adrift to die alone in space, Shanrem De Nebral is rescued by Zen Ahbramez and the crew of the starship Brizo.
For Shanrem, raised to be nothing more than property to be sold to the highest bidder, the freedom, friendship and love he finds aboard the Brizo is more than he ever dreamed of. But even the best of dreams end, and for Shanrem there’s nothing but trouble ahead.
With the near perfection bred into him in ruins, his own people would rather see him dead than returned and the Dukati warrior who owned him wants him back. To keep Shanrem safe and sheltered within his loving embrace, Zen’s strength and resolve will be tested to the limits.
Publisher’s Note: Gimme Shelter (Set in Stone) takes place in the same world as Kate Steele’s Switcher’s Rhapsody
“A daring starship captain and an abused ex-slave who thinks of himself as worthless are at the center of some exciting turmoil that enables one to fullfil a long-term promise to himself and the other to find his courage. Their story had me cheering them along as I was enjoying the world, far in the future, these guys live in.”
— Serena Yates, Rainbow Book Reviews
“I loved the overall arc of the story. Ms. Steele does a great job of making me feel very connected to her characters and invested in them. I felt so very much for Shanrem… a great read any one who loves to fall in love should read.”
When the hangar bay doors were again secure, the safety zone doors automatically opened and Zen and Clay headed toward the shuttle. A chime informed them of an incoming transport. Both men paused and looked back as the bioport’s interior doors slid open. A tall man and a slim woman stepped out. Without a word, Clay handed each of them a holstered scorch pistol.
“Dukati shuttlecraft. Latest design too. We salvaging this baby?” Meral Jackson, ship’s engineer, asked as she belted on her weapon. Her hazel eyes twinkled with good-natured avarice. “I’d love to get my hands on her.”
“Why does something so innocuous sound so lewd coming out of your mouth?” Doc’s thin lips were pinched in a grimace as one eyebrow rose.
Jackson grinned. “Can I help it if I admire a shapely hull?”
“Shouldn’t you concentrate on getting the hatch open? Serk’s last report gives the passenger approximately seventeen minutes before the oxygen runs out.”
“Seventeen minutes? Piece of cake. I’ll have it open in less than two.”
Doc’s snort of disbelief brought a speculative gleam to Jackson’s eyes. “Wanna bet?”
“Bet what?”
“Five greens at the next poker game.”
“A hundred and twenty-five credits?”
“You in or out?”
Doc aimed a squinty-eyed scowl at Jackson. “In.”
“Time me.” Jackson turned her attention to the shuttle and dug into her tool pouch, which was perpetually attached to her by a cross-body strap.
Directing a look of sympathy toward the ship’s main medical practitioner, Zen shook his head. “I’m pretty sure you’ve been suckered, Doc.”
“We’ll see.”
As Zen watched, Jackson found whatever she’d been looking for and set to work. Muscles flexed under the smooth tanned skin of her bare arms as she punched a series of keys on the flat, rectangular unit she held in her hand. A slight turn of her head brought her profile into relief and set a few glimmers of light chasing through the strands of her blonde pixie-cut.
Having learned at her father’s knee from the time she was old enough to pick up a sonic wrench, Jackson knew her way around a multitude of ship types and systems. Zen had little doubt the shuttlecraft door would give her any trouble.
From the small unit she held in her hand, a continual series of chirps issued as a cycle of colored light beams played over the closed shuttle hatch. As the seconds passed, one by one each beam turned green.
“Twenty seconds,” Doc warned.
“No worries. It’s… done!” Jackson’s announcement was triumphant as the hatch slowly lifted. Stepping back, she made way as the steps began to lower.
“Damn,” Doc cursed softly. “Don’t you have anything better to do than practice breaking and entering?”
“For your information, nothing broke and no, I don’t. As ship’s engineer I see to it the Brizo performs like a Xanasian courtesan being paid double. Smooth and compliant.”
“You’d know.”
“A girl’s gotta have her fun.” Jackson’s unabashed wink brought a quick grin to Zen’s lips and snort of amusement from Clay.
All four of them quickly sobered as the now fully opened hatch ceased all movement. Zen motioned Jackson and Doc back. Weapons drawn, he and Clay approached the yawning hatch. Touching the small, round and flat metal disc attached to his collar, Zen voiced a soft question. “Serk, any change in the scans?”
“None, Captain. All readings remain within normal parameters. The passenger hasn’t moved. Nothing on long range scanners.”
The shuttle’s inner lights were dim, the interior shadowed, with no sign of the passenger. About to take a step forward, a quick negative motion from Clay stopped Zen in his tracks. Zen gave way and allowed his security officer to precede him. Clay went aft where the last scan placed the shuttle’s passenger. As soon as Clay stepped within the murky interior of the shuttle, Zen lost sight of him.
His own foray into the ship was accomplished without incident and he turned to the fore and the ship’s controls. Each space along the way was examined, between and under seats in case something had remained undetected. Every unoccupied space was clear and the shuttle quiet as a tomb.
Reaching the ship’s controls Zen gave them a quick once over. Except for the blinking lights indicating the failing life support system, everything else seemed in order.
“Captain?”
Zen touched his communications disc. “You find our guest?”
“Yeah. Can you bring up the lights? We need Doc in here on the double and he’s gonna need ’em.”
“Right away.”
Zen called Doc and Jackson in and adjusted the lighting while waiting for Jackson to join him at the controls. “Do a thorough exam on all systems, Jacks,” Zen ordered when she appeared. “Make sure this thing can’t be traced. Something doesn’t seem right here. Why would the life support fail? This shuttle’s so new the paint’s barely dried.”
“I’m on it, Zen.” Jackson seated herself at the controls and began running ship diagnostics.
Leaving Jackson to her work, Zen made his way back to Clay and Doc. The closer he came, the more pungent the scent. The coppery tang assaulting his heightened sense of smell weighed heavy on the still air. Doc was squatting near a body, his med scanner beeping and flashing in a way Zen could tell bode ill. Side-stepping Clay, Zen was able to take in the full picture. He drew in a sharp breath. What once had been a vision was now covered in blood and lay still as death on the deck.
The shuttle’s passenger was male. In contrast to the obsidian darkness of his softly curling hair, his skin was bone white. Sweat dampened bangs adhered to forehead and stuck there. His full lips were slightly parted and his finely chiseled, androgynous features were slack. His almost too-delicate-to-be-male appearance was emphasized by his current condition.
He wore a pair of near-diaphanous pants that hugged his body from the waist down like a second skin. Other than a pair of wide, embossed silver bracelets that encircled his wrists, his upper body was nude. The man lay on his stomach, his back clearly visible, the damage done to it horrendous. Thin strips of skin had been peeled away leaving raw open wounds that had bled profusely before clotting. Rusty spatters of blood had soaked into his pants, as well as the matted curls that touched the back of his neck.
Shock, fury and the raw reminder of a familial tragedy pummeled Zen in equal measure at the sight of such torture being visited on someone who appeared to be little more than a helpless captive. His hatred of the Dukati — something that was branded into his very soul — twisted within him.
Kate’s love of books started from the moment she read those fateful words: run, Spot, run! It took her awhile to discover that she didn’t have to just read and imagine, but that she could also write stories and so here she is writing romance and loving it. Like chocolate – her ultimate favorite food, with pizza running a close second – writing became addictive. Whether it’s paranormal, contemporary or science fiction about werewolves, otherworldly creatures or the average Joe, she can’t get enough.
As for the everyday details, Kate lives in a turn of the century house located in the midst of Indiana farm country, and is kept company by family, along with demanding dogs, contrary cats and a pair of occasionally sweet, and definitely noisy, lovebirds. When not writing, she reads, is an enthusiastic grower of iris, and a fanatic fan of Japanese manga and anime.
Chris Jordan swore when his partner died in January of 1979, he’d never find another lover. He didn’t want another one. But six months later, he still yearns for the man he loved.
Chris finds a letter from Steve telling him to visit Start Me Up, an electronics store. What could his partner have planned? What he finds at the store blows his mind, but will he be able to accept the desires of his partner — especially a seemingly robotic version of Steve?
Only time and patience will tell if these two lovers can find the passion they shared or if Steve’s death meant the end of everything.
“If you like stories with a touch of magic, if you think that two men who want to build a life together deserve a chance to do so, no matter what Fate may have decided, and if you’re looking for a slightly mysterious, entertaining, and very sweet read, then you will probably like this short story.”
“I love you, Stephen Kyle.” Chris Jordan rested his head on the wall of the shower stall. He wound his fingers around his dick and stroked himself. Every nerve ending tingled and his body buzzed. He cupped his balls in his other hand and widened his stance. His knees wobbled. The more he thrust into his fingers, the closer he got to coming apart. He needed this. Needed to be wanted and excited.
He rested his head against the tiles and groaned. Dear God, he wanted a dick in his ass. Wanted to come apart and be held. He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. His throat ached.
Fucking hell. He gritted his teeth. “Steve,” he bit out. His strokes turned feral and he tensed. The muscles in his legs trembled. Heat overwhelmed him, despite the chilly water. The shiver started low in his body and overwhelmed him in a second as the climax hit.
Chris bowed his head and opened his eyes. Cum shot across the stall and down the curtain. Cold water sprayed down on him, but did little to bring him out of the post-orgasm fervor. Everything within him sagged. He slid to the floor and drew his knees to his chest. He rested his forehead on his knees and sighed.
He missed his lover — his partner, Steve.
Chris blinked back tears and reached up to turn off the water. He needed to get back to his life. But was it really living if his partner wasn’t there? He finally scrambled to his feet, then yanked the towel from the rack. Being alone sucked.
He missed Steve. They were supposed to be looking forward to the 1980s together and proving to the world that gay couples could grow old together. Not now. Not since Steve got the gay cancer and died. The epidemic had ripped through the gay community, seeming to strike at random at first and ravaging friends — with seemingly no cure. At least there hadn’t been a cure in time to save Steve.
Chris left the bathroom and dropped the towel on the floor. If his partner had been there, he would’ve reminded Chris to pick it up. “Hang it on the rack,” he’d say. “It won’t dry unless it’s hung up.”
He’d get there. He yanked a pair of underwear and running shorts from the dresser. Once he donned the clothing, he snatched the towel from the carpet. He draped the towel across the curtain rod. Not the rack, but who cared?
He grabbed a T-shirt from the laundry basket. Doing chores wasn’t as fun without Steve around. When his partner was still there, they’d turn the tasks into games. Whoever lost made love to the other. Inevitably they both won, even if they lost.
He shrugged the shirt over his head and stuck his arms through the sleeves, then sank onto the bed. According to his friend Dom, he had to get back into life. Sure. Easy for Dom to say — he spent his nights at the clubs and never went home alone. He also never stuck with the same guy or girl for more than a few days. Commitment freaked Dom out. Not Chris. He needed a partner. As soon as he met Steve, he knew — he’d found his partner.
He stared at the photos still stuck in the frame around the mirror. Him and Steve grinning in the sand on the beach at Maumee, standing in front of one of the roller coasters at the local amusement park, at the reception for Steve’s sister, Mimi. His heart ached. He and Steve were expected to come together, but to tell everyone they were just friends. Steve’s family never accepted them as a couple.
He’d memorized every detail of Steve’s face and knew his partner inside and out. The images comforted him. He crossed the room and touched the frame around the photo of him and Steve in their suits. He noticed the envelope behind the picture and winced. He’d been given the envelope during the reading of Steve’s will. The only reason he’d even been invited to the reading had been because their mutual friend, Lew, had written the will and insisted on giving Chris the letter or whatever had been contained in the envelope.
Should he finally crack the seal? Six months since Steve’s death hadn’t made the hurt go away or even lessen a bit. He touched the corner of the envelope. Fear hit him hard. He’d put the thing away and tried to forget about it, but every time he looked at the photos, his curiosity piqued. Would there be something bad in the letter? Something good? He’d never know until he opened it.
He left the bedroom in favor of the kitchen. If he was going to finally open the envelope, he needed wine. Beer. Whatever he had in the fridge containing alcohol. Hell, he’d take whiskey right about now and he wasn’t into the harder stuff.
He poured dark red liquid into a plastic tumbler, then climbed onto the counter to sit. He kept the glass beside him, but didn’t drink.
His heart hammered and he flexed his fingers a couple of times before he picked up the envelope.
“Here goes nothin’,” he murmured. He tore open the back and pressed his lips together. A piece of paper slipped free and fluttered onto his lap…
When she’s not writing the stories in her head, Megan Slayer can be found luxuriating in her hot tub with her two vampire Cabana boys, Luke and Jeremy. She has the tendency to run a tad too far with her muse, so she has to hide in the head of her alter ego, but the boys don’t seem to mind.
When she’s not obsessing over her whip collection, she can be found picking up her kidlet from school.
She enjoys writing in all genres, but writing about men in love suits her fancy best.
For those who already follow my blog, I apologize for the radio silence the last few weeks. Between my laptop being held hostage by Geek Squad (whatever is wrong is taking forever to fix), and moving to a new home (took a week to get them to come out and set up the new internet), it feels like forever since I’ve been able to get online. Since I was unable to post the new releases from Changeling Press the last two weeks, I’m listing them all below!
Cain by Marteeka Karland
Cover Artist: Marteeka Karland
Genres/Themes: Action Adventure, Contemporary Romance, MC Romance, New Adult
WARNING! If you don’t want hotter than hell alpha males, you need to move on. This is a tale of gruff love. A rough around the edges biker claiming the woman he wants no matter the consequences. If you want lust so strong it will melt your panties, then read on!
Billionaire Werewolf Ate My Fiance by Crymsyn Hart
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Dark Fantasy, Paranormal, BBW, Dark Desire, Werewolves
The loss of her fiancé, Greyson, from an animal attack carved a hole in Sadie Matthews, body and soul. She seeks rest and relaxation at an exclusive resort, hoping for a chance to heal. However, things immediately go wrong when the desk clerk refuses to even hand over the key to her room.
Elijah Dane’s not the rescuing kind, but something about Sadie drives his wolf crazy. All he can think of is eating her up. After a wild night together, Elijah warns Sadie to stay inside during the full moon. When Sadie runs, he knows he must let her go. Can he get over his insatiable desire for her or will his wolf go to extremes to hunt her down and claim her for his own?
Melt my Heart (Duet) by Kate Steele
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Action Adventure, Box Sets, Contemporary Romance, Gay
Thaw in Winter: Vacationing at a remote cabin in the woods, Mark Bartel gets more than he bargained for when he comes across a camper who puts to shame anything nature has to offer. Joe Moning is tall, blond, built, and utterly gorgeous, but the gold wedding band Joe wears puts to rest any notions Mark could entertain about something more happening between them. Until Joe kisses him.
An injury during an unexpected snowstorm leaves Joe with partial amnesia. He hasn’t forgotten his attraction to Mark but he can’t remember the answer to the biggest stumbling block between them. Who wears the mate to the ring he so openly sports?
Darling Brat: When architect Mark Bartel returns home from a business trip, Joe, his lover of six months, presents him with a proposition: Joe wants them to build their own house and move in together. What was supposed to end with mind blowing sex instead becomes a comedy of errors, but Joe shows Mark it’s going to take a lot more than some mud and a temper tantrum to keep Joe from getting exactly what he wants: the heart, soul, and body of his darling brat.
The Case of the Deadly Arrow by Stephanie Burke Cover Artist: Bryan Keller Genres/Themes: Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, PNR, Urban Fantasy, Multicultural & Interracial, Bisexual Pansexual and Gender Non-Conforming, Elves Dragons & Magical Creatures
All Mai-Mai wants is to be left alone to run her coffee shop in peace, but disaster strikes again, this time in the form of a bigoted restaurant owner, social media crazies, and the biggest threat of all, a flaming arrow aimed at her head.
Mai becomes trapped in a deadly game with an assassin as she tries to get rid of the riots on her doorstep and understand the beast within her with the intimate help of a Dryad named Ptris. Can she maintain her relationship with her Gremlin Ry-Ry and uncover the mysteries of the deadly arrows before one of them hits their target?
Terran Temptation by Echo Ishii
Cover Artist: Angela Knight
Genres/Themes: Sci-fi Romance, Alien Encounters, BBW, Men and Women in Uniform, Multicultural & Interracial
Dr. Annalisha Montague has earned a glowing reputation as a Terran scientist. She has also attracted the attention of two men, a senator who wants her for her bloodline and a Terran commander who wants her heart and soul. Will she choose to honor her bloodline or her heart?
Vasquez and James Vol. 2 by Lou Sylvre
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Action Adventure, Box Sets, Contemporary Romance, Gay, Multicultural & Interracial
Together, professional badass Luki Vasquez and his husband, textile artist Sonny James, fight to survive and build a family.
Saving Sonny James: The events of the last couple of years have begun to catch up with Luki — loving Sonny James and letting Sonny love him back have left gaps in his emotional armor. Sonny says yes to a European tour with Harold Breslin, a dangerously intelligent promoter whose obsessive desire for Sonny is exceeded only by his narcissism. When Harold’s plan for Sonny turns poisonous, Luki must break free of PTSD and get to France, fit and ready in time to save his husband’s life.
Yes: Professional badass Luki Vasquez and textile artist Sonny James have been married for five years, and despite the sometimes volatile mix, they’re happy. From their first days together, they stood united against deadly enemies and prevailed. But now the deadly enemy they face is the cancer. Sonny tries, but Luki dances with cancer alone — until he gets a startling reminder of the miracle of life.
Because of Jade: Still cancer free after five years, Luki finds out his nephew Josh and wife Ruthie have met a tragic death. Luki and Sonny must help each other learn to parent an unexpected child, Jade, and still nourish the love that has kept them whole for the past ten years. A relative’s claim to Jade threatens the new family, and even if they prevail in court, they could lose their little girl unless they can rescue Jade from evil hands and true peril.
Master of Seduction: Sheriff’s Deputy Rachel Kent has dreamed of becoming one of the immortal Magekind witches who protect humanity from itself. Nate vows he’ll only agree to complete Rachel’s transformation if she proves she can be trusted with the powers she’ll gain. But as he tests her — and makes love to her with every test she passes — mutual lust becomes something more. Will love be enough to save Rachel’s sanity?
Master of Valor: Handsome Afghan war veteran Duncan Carpenter barely survived a horrifying IED attack that cost him his legs. He gets a second chance at life when he agrees to become an agent of the Magekind. The spell that transforms him also heals his broken body and gives him incredible new abilities. Masara finds her apprentice deliciously seductive — a little bit too much so for her peace of mind. But when Duncan and Masara are asked to help a werewolf cop investigate a murder, the fight for survival drives the couple together, despite Masara’s determination to keep her distance. And what’s with the flying rabid zombie rats?
Master of Fate: Mad Alys is the most powerful seer among the witches of the Magekind. She’s seen a lot of horrors in her visions, but this is the worst: the destruction of the Magekind. The only way to prevent the deaths of everyone she cares about is to allow their worst enemy to kidnap her. Her only hope of rescue is her vampire partner, Davon — the man she loves — and the one she can never have.
When Chloe inherits her Great Aunt Antonia’s legacy — a mysterious trunk filled with lovely lingerie — her life takes an unforeseen turn. The beautiful old undergarments have magical powers — and a mind of their own. For the first time in her life, Chloe finds herself irresistible to men. But there’s only one man Chloe wants — and that man just happens to be world famous rock star Slade Brandt — Sam Brandenburg, her high school crush.
Fame has its price, and Sam has his own demons to battle. Caught up in his own myth, he can’t seem to escape. The way things are going, stardom may cost him his sanity — or his life. He’s slipping farther and farther into the dangerous underground world of freaky BDSM role-playing — and he’s about to sacrifice himself to a cult of real life wannabe vampires. Chloe knows she’s his last hope. Can she save Sam from the thing Slade’s become?
Chloe Carlyle stared at the man who moved across the club as if he owned it. Slade Brandt walked the walk of someone who knew who he was and where he was headed — straight to the top.
And why not? He’d always been that way, even back in high school, when he was known as Sam Brandenburg. It was just Sam’s nature to be assured and cool. He’d been cool enough to set up a garage band and practice until they got it right. Smart enough to change his name and enter a Battle of the Bands contest sponsored by the local radio station. And though his band didn’t win, he’d been savvy enough to get noticed and land a contract based on both talent and raw sex appeal.
Oh, yeah, Slade Brandt definitely qualified as a babe magnet. Even in high school when his looks were adolescent and stringy, he’d still been a catch. He’d had some intangible magnetism that inspired a girl’s hormones to flutter.
Back then Chloe had been a bookworm, complete with glasses and watery faded blue eyes. Her body had matured late and never quite lost its baby fat. Sam was two grades ahead of her and out of her league even then.
The first time he’d noticed her, she’d humiliated herself. She’d dropped her books. When he handed them back, Chloe was so surprised she gasped, and her gum fell on his shoe! She’d mumbled a garbled “Thanks” that came out more like a burp.
Some impression she’d made…
Eight years later, Slade Brandt’s latest single was number two on the charts with a bullet, his last album had gone platinum, and he traveled with his own handpicked musicians now… and naturally, the groupies. But he hadn’t forgotten his roots. When he wasn’t on tour he always came home to visit his family.
And Slade still frequented the club that had given him his break.
Now he was about to honor that very club with a performance — a nod to his beginnings — and the place was packed. In a standing room crowd only, Chloe ended up plastered against the wall, hoping something about her would stick out, light up — somehow attract Slade’s attention. But why would it? She’d never lost that baby fat. She still lacked the sparkle and shine that attracted a man’s attention.
So Chloe had to make do with watching Slade as he leaned back, casually lounging in his booth of honor, an eager groupie tucked under each arm. The blonde on his left scooted closer and Chloe just knew her thigh pressed against Slade’s. The dark-skinned girl to his right was older. She turned her eager lips to Slade’s neck, nuzzling him. He obliged by giving her a French kiss that was blatantly for show. His tongue moved slowly into her mouth, then enthusiastically worked to and fro.
Chloe hated both girls. She didn’t know them, but that didn’t matter. She hated what they represented — the perfect body, heavy in the boobs, small waist, tight ass. They wore barely anything and Slade let them slobber and hang all over him. He probably fucked them both, too — at the same time. She’d read in one of the tabloids that he liked his girls two on one.
Chloe watched him finish the kiss with the dark brunette and turn to the blonde. Slade’s long dark hair fell to his shoulders. He pushed it back and bent to nuzzle at the busty young woman’s chest.
Someone snapped a picture and he laughed. Another flash went off and a bodyguard stepped in front of Slade to keep it from becoming a paparazzi feeding frenzy. Chloe wondered what it would be like to have her picture splashed under a headline for anyone to see in a checkout line. “Slade’s new girl. The love of his life, he vows.”
Chloe chuckled and sipped her piña colada. Fat chance. Even if both girls hanging onto Slade stitched their clothes together, she still wouldn’t fit into them. She heard the announcer give Slade his intro. The blonde scooted out of the booth and Slade slipped out, his faded jeans sinfully tight on his buff physique. Oh, he’d changed since high school — and all for the sexier. He oozed a fucking pheromone that made all the girls wet. Chloe knew it. Her own panties were sopping despite the cotton absorbent crotch.
She wished she could wear those wispy little thongs that women always threw on stage for Slade to pick up. If the panty donor looked particularly buxom or beautiful in that naturally sexy way Slade preferred, he’d sniff the undies and grin wolfishly. Then a bouncer would approach the lucky lady and escort her backstage for Slade’s own session of fan appreciation.
Oh, yeah, she knew how it worked. She’d dreamed of being one of those women since Slade had been plain ol’ Sam, but even back then, she hadn’t stood a chance. Now as he stepped on stage and the crowd roared, she sure as hell didn’t have an ice cube’s chance in Hell.
Ciarra Sims is one of the quiet ones you have to watch out for. She lives a plain and simple life in Southern California with her pets, and tries to stay out of trouble. Her writing may be comedic or scary, depending on her mood… or it may sway toward a Regency or even a western… whatever tickles her fancy at the time. Ciarra’s writing philosophy is: “Not to fall into a rut. Keep the reader and yourself wondering, ‘What’s next?'”
Bleu and Grey are bonded, but a threesome with Alek leaves Bleu questioning their relationship. He believes the three of them belong together, but triads are taboo, so Bleu suffers in silence. Some things are better left unsaid. Still, fate keeps throwing them together. Can there be a future for two Alphas and an omega? Or will hidden feelings destroy them all?
Trapped. Bleu struggled against the tape binding him to the chair, but he couldn’t get loose. Fuck. I’m trapped here, wherever here is.
He looked around, but the unfamiliar room offered no clues. He thought about Grey. Would he ever see his Alpha again?
A click sounded behind him. Bleu turned his head and found himself staring down the barrel of a gun. Sweat beaded on Bleu’s forehead and he started shaking uncontrollably. His bladder loosened and he peed himself. He opened his mouth to scream —
“Wake up, Bleu. Damn it, wake the hell up!”
Bleu’s eyes flew open. “Grey?” he mumbled.
“Yeah. Grey. Who else?”
It took a few seconds for Bleu to register where he was, then Grey’s warm body overpowered the nightmare. “Sorry, I was dreaming.”
“That must have been some dream. You wet the bed.”
Bleu felt his face heat. “I’m sorry.”
Grey got fresh sheets from the closet. “No apologies necessary. Was it the kidnapping again?”
“Yeah.”
The same terrifying dream plagued him every night. Each time Bleu relived his abduction by John Smith, a man he’d once known as his college professor. Smith had found out that the Agéli Lýkon fraternity was a real wolf pack. The Alpha Brotherhood, including Bleu’s bonded lover, Grey, had the ability to shift into wolves, but John Smith needed proof. He held Bleu hostage, intending to lure Grey to his hideout. Smith got more than he bargained for. Both Grey and his best buddy, Alek, showed up and —
“Earth to Bleu. Stop thinking so much. It’s over. Smith is dead.”
Bleu sighed heavily. “Sorry, I can’t help it.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“No. I don’t want to think about it anymore. Just hold me.” Bleu slid back into bed and curled up like a baby, with Grey cradling him.
“I love you, baby. You’re safe now. You’re my omega and I’ll always take care of you. Go back to sleep.”
Cam: I’m a changeling, a shapeshifter born to protect the innocent and serve my Queen, Hecate. While patrolling the Castle grounds in our supernatural world, a scent leads me through a portal to the Mortal Plane where I meet my mate and his charming daughter. An evil plot between his world and mine is trying to take them away from me, but I’ll die — or go against my Queen — to protect my new family.
Ben: My daughter, Seda, is my world, though I try not to give in and let her have everything she wants. But I can’t say no to her keeping the large cat she finds while we’re on vacation. It turns out this cat really is different — he turns into a very sexy man who crashes into my life and steals my heart. When something evil tries to cross into our world, Cam vows to put his life on the line to protect my child. I may lose one to save the other, and I don’t know how I’ll ever survive the loss.
I sat staring at Queen Hecate as she presided over the Others’ Ball. The light wooden ballroom was packed with gorgeously dressed supernatural beings of every species. The smooth stone walls had been polished to a mirror-like sheen, so the soft glow of the crystal chandeliers shone bright. Food from various districts in the Cross Roads were served on long tables that surrounded the vast room. The buzz of constant chatter and bursts of laughter sounded throughout the room as guests waited to hobnob with the Queen.
A line of beings waited to greet Hecate as she sat at her throne accepting praise from whoever was speaking with her. She looked stunning, as always. Her figure was highlighted in the dark blue dress that hugged her curvy body. Long black lace the same shade as her raven hair dipped from her high neckline, spilling to the cutout above her breasts and flowing over her bodice. Matching black lace fell from her sleeves, nearly reaching the ground. Her pale skin shone in the light of the room.
I was so bored I couldn’t help but yawn, my jaws cracking. Even my two hellhound brothers couldn’t keep me entertained. After their attempts to bat me with their huge paws or wrestle with me behind our Queen’s back, I ignored them both. When my whines didn’t garner attention from my Mistress, I gave up, flopped down on my belly and sighed.
I came alert when a green-skinned Terran Demon tried to pat me. Growling, I peeled my lips back, showing every sharp tooth in my head. I might be Hecate’s hellhound, but that did not give a demon the right to paw me like a pet. When it ignored my growl, I snapped, just missing its long, bony fingers. Asshole.
“Drirgan, you know better than to touch my hounds,” Hecate purred. “Next time I’ll let Cambrai take a few of your fingers as a treat.”
The demon gave me a look that promised retribution. I rolled my eyes and looked away. Drirgan couldn’t do a damn thing, and we both knew it.
I’d had enough, though. I stood and stretched, making sure the Terran Demon got a good look at my asshole and big balls. Then I trotted out the door and onto the grounds. The familiar soft, flower-scented breeze greeted me as I padded along. I took a deep breath and relished the freedom from the scents and stuffiness of the dance hall.
That’s when I caught a whiff of the most amazing smell, a combination of spicy cinnamon and sweet vanilla. I took off at a run, trying to track down the intriguing scent.
A bright pinpoint of light drew my attention. There! The scent was coming from that light, and I slowed to a cautious trot. The closer I got, the bigger the light grew and the stronger I was drawn to it. Voices murmured, and I thrust my head into the light.
Glancing around, I saw a room with stairs to my right, a large comfy couch, and several tall, padded chairs.
This was a portal to the Earth Plane.
I shook my head, amazed it would open for me. Hearing Humans speaking, I considered retreating into my own plane, but the voices weren’t close by. Besides, the scent that drew me most definitely was here.
I stepped through the light into a warm, welcoming atmosphere. Trouble was, I knew I’d terrify any human who saw me. My first and most used form, the hellhound, was huge by normal dog standards. Humans would probably compare my features to a pit bull’s, though I was much bigger. My head was larger than an average human male’s torso, and my front legs were as thick as most men’s forearms.
Definitely best to shift forms. With a thought, I changed into a fluffy domestic house cat. My brother hellhounds would laugh their balls off at me, but it would be worth it to find the source of that delicious scent.
A gasp drew my attention just as an angelic blonde girl-child raced into the room. Not being familiar with human young, I thought she looked older than a toddler. Her curly blonde hair surrounded chubby cheeks and a pink bow mouth. Her bright blue eyes charmed me — until she grabbed me around the chest and scooped me up, my back legs dangling. I inwardly sighed, knowing I’d officially lost the last of my dignity. I should’ve stayed in hellhound form so this young female couldn’t pick me up.
But no matter how humiliated I found being toted like a stuffed animal, I’d never hurt her. As a hellhound I was born to protect others.
The child screamed into my ear and ran on her short legs, my feet nearly dragging the ground. I closed my eyes, hoping the urchin wouldn’t trip over my long tail. “Daddy! Wook, wook! Kitty!” Her voice rose to a screech in her excitement.
At least one of us was happy.
I opened my eyes to see three very startled human men, two of them holding hands. The other male stared down at us, a smile spreading over his gorgeous face. He looked like a blond god — tanned skin, blue eyes and straight, white teeth. In human form, I’d have sighed as I stared at him. “Seda, be careful with the kitty.”
The angelic-demon-child’s father turned to face the other men in the room. “I’m sorry if my daughter is too rough with your cat. Seda loves animals, but she’s too young to understand being gentle.”
They shared a look before turning their attention back to the blond god-man. “Um, that’s fine, Mr. Travers. Josiah and I, we don’t have a cat.”
Mr. Travers took me from the child and pulled me against his chest. I was inundated with that amazing spicy/sweet scent and knew. This human man was my mate.
And to my utter mortification, I began to purr. Well, shit.
My vivid imagination combined with my love of reading and sci-fi. As a kid, I spent hours writing stories and poems while listening to my large collection of vinyl record albums.
My goal as an author is to tell stories that help others find enjoyment, or to escape life for a little while. I want the characters in my head to become as real to the reader as they are to me, and I hope they find another heart to settle into. I also want to interact with the people who read my books, because you never know where your next friend will come from.
Thank you for having us on your blog today! We’re so excited to share the release of the first book in our Project Mars series, Future, Broken. For a quick idea about the series, check out this trailer
A little more about the book
Book 1 – Future, Broken – Available July 10, 2019 – a Project Mars story – futuristic, sci-fi, romance series by best-selling authors Jacey Holbrand & Elizabeth Monvey
Genre: futuristic, sci-fi, Alternative (MM) MPREG Romance | Heat Level: 3 | Word Count: 66,125 | ISBN: 978-1-77339-998-0 | Editor: Karyn White | Cover Artist: Jay Aheer
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BLURB
In the future, be careful who you trust.
Nathaniel Stockton and Grover Silas Ranger are faced with the ultimate test to their relationship when the Project Mars Lottery comes to town. Nate wins a chance to have his dreams come true: live and work on the red planet with his love. His husband Ranger doesn’t see the point of going from one bad place to another. But an evil organization called Sector has a completely different idea for the couple.
Kidnapped, experimented on, impregnated, and sent to Mars, Nate realizes too late he trusted the wrong people.
Ranger fights to find a way to Nate. Will he make it to his love before their dreams and lives are irrevocably broken by distance, a pregnancy, and the corrupt agency?
EXCERPT
The phone rang, dragging Nate from his thoughts.
“I’m gonna put it on screen,” Ranger called out from the kitchen.
“Sure.”
The wall flashed to life, and a dark-haired man with dark eyes, appeared. The stranger reminded Nate of the doctor at the lottery exams—lab coat, stethoscope, well-groomed—but this man was older and seemed to have an edge to him.
“Hey,” Nate greeted. “What can I do for you?”
“Am I speaking with Nathaniel Curtis Stockton?”
“Yeah.” Nate took a swig of his drink.
“Wonderful.” The man smiled but the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “I am Doctor Rafael Trask. I am one of the lead scientists in a series of special clinical studies being performed. I understand you failed the medical section of the lottery exams?”
“Yeah.” The guy’s voice sounded cool … exact. Combined with the discord of his face, Nate sensed an air of danger surrounding the man. Creeped out, Nate was hesitant to say too much.
“Well, first off, let me say, we are not associated with the lottery. But should you participate in our studies you may have another chance at traveling to and settling on Mars. We also offer outstanding compensation. Despite whether you are or are not picked for travel, you will pretty much be set for life.”
Ranger strolled into the room and sat beside Nate, twirling the comm-wand between his fingers. “What are these studies?”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”
“His husband,” Ranger answered. “Whatever he’s to be involved in, wherever he’s going, I’ll be at his side. What’s all this about?”
Doctor Trask leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers together. He looked down his nose at the camera on his comm device, appearing to contemplate what Ranger had said and giving Ranger a once-over. The doctor reminded Nate of a vulture.
“Okay,” Trask said. “Like I was about to mention to Mister Stockton, we are trying to find cures for people who did not pass the medical aspects of the lottery exams due to their diseases. We are also looking into the sterility epidemic and chromosomal changes in the female population.”
“Could you hold a moment?” Nate asked, grabbing the wand from Ranger and muting the call. He pointed the wand at the screen. “Do you think this is legit?”
“Yeah. It could be.”
“It might be the answer to our Mars problem.” Nate smiled, feeling a glimmer of warm hope spring up within him again.
“Perhaps. Should we see what’s what with it?”
Nate unmuted the call. “What if we say we’re interested?”
The doctor lifted a corner of his mouth. “I will digitize a package of information to you, and then we will be in touch with further instructions.”
JACEY HOLBRAND believes life and love comes in all forms and should be celebrated. She’s committed to her muse and writing so she can share her stories with readers. Hot days. Sexy nights. Come play in her world. Jacey loves to hear from readers!
ELIZABETH MONVEY is the pseudonym for a single mother from Los Angeles. She writes manlove stories, where the hero meets the man of his dreams because happily ever after is one of her favorite things.
