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Take You There by Willa Okati #mpreg #paranormalromance @Willa_Okati

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Thoughtful, quiet, and just a wee bit on the dryly sarcastic side, Ethan teaches music at the university in Second Chance. With barely enough time to breathe between hysterical students and faculty shenanigans, he’s not looking for Mr. Right — just Mr. Right Now — and only when the moment calls for it. The beautiful man who calls himself “Blue” in a quick, dirty alley encounter should have satisfied him. But now Ethan can’t get Blue out of his mind, and can’t seem to stop looking for him.

Carter –”Blue” when he wants to stay anonymous — wears his scars on the inside, but they’re deep and still bleeding. He doesn’t venture far outside his antique & pawn shop unless he’s desperate for someone to touch and hold him and make him feel good for a little while. He promised himself he would never want more again. The smoldering musician who caught his eye, and what they did in the alley, should have been enough. That should have been the end of it.

It wasn’t. It isn’t. Their encounter left him pregnant, and he’s been frozen since then, not knowing how to break free of his shell or what he should do. Until Ethan finds him — and then, everything changes. Again.

Author’s Note: Also featuring Oscar, everybody’s favorite sarcastic best friend. We all need an Oscar in our lives.

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Willa Okati

Was there a place like this in Second Chance?

Of course there was. Carter’s lips curved wryly around the rim of the highball glass he held to his lips. There was always a place like this no matter where you went. It just depended on whether who you asked knew what you wanted. And if you wanted a bar that didn’t serve chicken wings but did pour good beer and better tequila and top-shelf vodka, you wanted the bar called Speakeasy, just off Main Street. You could only get in through the back door and only if you knew where and how to knock, but once you did…

It wasn’t a place where everyone knew your name, but for most people there, that wasn’t even close to the point and sometimes —

Carter kept to himself when he could, lived silently and solitary, and he’d chosen that kind of life on purpose. It was better that way. Safer. He could watch his twelve and his six, and he could walk away from anything before it overwhelmed him. But sometimes —

Sometimes, he needed this.

Tucked quietly and carefully in one corner of the room, he kept the rim of a glass of tequila at his mouth, but only for show; he’d already sipped his way through two shots. Enough to work the tension out of his knotted muscles, but not so much that he’d do something he’d regret in the morning. Or if he did, to know it’d been worth it.

Carter’s hand spasmed around his glass, remembering it all too keenly, and knew he’d keep remembering until —

He should have turned the radio at his antique-slash-junk shop workbench off as soon as the first broadcast about the quarry disaster came through, but it’d caught him before he could switch the app off and he’d been lost. Drowning in it. He’d spent the day ignoring a workbench full of things that needed repairing, fixated on the steady voice of the broadcaster droning on and on and on with the lists of missing, injured, dead. On and on and on. Heartbreak after heartbreak after heartbreak, and he’d felt them all. Even now he could feel the echoes in his chest, cracking with each one —

He knew better.

Carter rubbed the heel of his palm against his eyes. He’d always been like that, ever since he was a kid. Too sensitive, even if he’s probably going to be an Omega, they’d said. Strange, even for someone with — you know — his kind of bloodline, and everyone knows how they are.

So.

He’d taken that to heart too. He’d learned how to turn himself off — but too well. Even if he hadn’t intended it, he’d gone too far in the other direction. Unless he was as careful as careful could be and didn’t slip up as he had with the radio, it took him so long to warm up to people and let them in that it turned them off, made them look at him oddly and give him a wide berth.

What’d happened today at the quarry wasn’t about him. Carter knew that.

But if he ever wanted to sleep again, he needed this.

Carter tilted his head back and gulped, letting the whole shot burn its way down his throat. He came up breathless, but — better. Much better, even if it left him gasping and with his heart pounding. He lightly thumped the heel of his shoe on wooden floorboards worn smooth from years of others doing the same. The owner, who set the playlists every night, had a sense of occasion. No wailing jazz or mournful blues tonight. Just hard, driving beats that made a man want to shout, stomp his boots, pump his fists to the sky.

To dance, and —

To erase everything except feeling good for a little while. 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Willa Okati (AKA Will) is made of many things: imagination, coffee, stray cat hairs, daydreams, more coffee, kitchen experimentation, a passion for winter weather, a little more coffee, a whole lot of flowering plants and a lifelong love of storytelling. Will’s definitely one of the quiet ones you have to watch out for, though he — not she anymore — is a lot less quiet these days.

New at Changeling Press: Come For You by Willa Okati #LGBTQ #paranormalromance #mpreg @willa_okati

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Gabriel, a dreamer and a librarian, is so shy and introverted that he’s still a virgin Omega at twenty-five — but he can’t help wishing fairy-tale Prince Charmings were real and that one would find him. One does, a rough-hewn but outgoing, captivating quarryman Alpha called Wynn. For them, it’s love at first sight. Gabriel doesn’t care if they’re an odd couple, no matter what others and his Beta co-librarian Cameron thinks about it.

But the happy ending is harder to come by. When Gabriel’s almost full term with their first child, there’s an accidental explosion at the quarry that leaves Wynn trapped behind a wall of rubble. Waiting for news – any news – and hoping against hope, all Gabriel has to comfort himself with is the memory of his fairytale of a love story. He’s so lost in dreaming he doesn’t realize he’s in labor and needs to get to a doctor.

Who will rescue who?

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Willa Okati

Love at first sight was only for stories, or so Wynn had always been told.

Fairy-tale princes that carried you away beneath their hills, who danced the night away with you, and left you changed.

So he’d always been told.

Everyone who’d ever told him that had been wrong.

The second he laid eyes on the cute little librarian with the glasses and the sweetest smile he’d ever seen, Wynn knew: everyone else was so, so wrong, and he was going to prove that.

* * *

Past

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The clock perched on their windowsill wasn’t old enough to be vintage or antique, and wasn’t new enough to be anything but old, but Gabriel liked it anyway. He’d painted the metal frame brass, then scuffed it with sandpaper until it took on a patina of age.

“Like it’s been through a war or something,” Wynn had said, turning the thing over in his strong, work-scarred hands to marvel at it. “What made you think of doing that?”

Gabriel took the clock away, his hands so much smaller and fairer than Wynn’s that he let them linger there, so long that Wynn took one of them in his and kissed the back of his knuckles. “Because time matters,” he tried to explain, lifting his hand to Wynn’s hair to ruffle the short, still-wayward sandy strands. “Because I wanted it to be beautiful.”

No one besides Gabriel ever got to see Wynn’s best smile, the one that made him warmer than the sun, and that sent a slow-rolling wave of pleasure tingling down to his toes. “You’re beautiful.”

“Stop it, I’m not.”

“Shh.” Wynn pressed his lips to Gabriel’s hot cheek and laid his hand on Gabriel’s belly. “You’re beautiful if I say you are, and I do. So there.”

When he said it, Gabriel believed him. He raised himself to wind his arms around Wynn’s neck and pulled him down into a kiss. One kiss, and then another, and then —

* * *

Present

Tick. Tick. Tick.
“Hey. Where’d you go?” Tucked up big and hard and solid behind him, his chest pressed to Gabriel’s back, Wynn nosed against Gabriel’s ear. “Come back.”

Gabriel blinked out of the daydream he’d drifted into. It happened more and more often these days, but he’d been told that was natural for Omegas this close to giving birth. He looked down to where Wynn’s big hand splayed wide over his belly, and even it wasn’t big enough to cup more than the top. They’d been twined together for an hour, maybe more, taking their time and letting the fire build.

He glanced at the clock — they had half an hour before the alarm rang, not enough but enough to make use of — and covered Wynn’s hand, turning his head as far as he could toward Wynn’s mouth. “I’m here.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Willa Okati (AKA Will) is made of many things: imagination, coffee, stray cat hairs, daydreams, more coffee, kitchen experimentation, a passion for winter weather, a little more coffee, a whole lot of flowering plants and a lifelong love of storytelling. Will’s definitely one of the quiet ones you have to watch out for, though he — not she anymore — is a lot less quiet these days.

Release Blitz: Yes, You Are by Willa Okati #mpreg #paranormalromance @willa_okati @GoIndiMarketing

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Title: Yes, You Are

Series: Second Chance Omegas #2

Author: Willa Okati

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: August 27, 2021

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 109

Genre: Romance, New Adult, Action Adventure, Sex/Gender Shifters & MPreg, Single Parent/Pregnancy Romance, Paranormal, Urban Fantasy, Second Chances

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Synopsis

Darian’s as unique an Alpha as Coby is an Omega, but opposites attract twice in Second Chance.

Everyone always assumed small, pretty Darian would be an Omega. He ticked all the boxes — except for the temper and the tendency to cuss a blue streak. But whatever, right? And everyone always assumed big, athletic Coby would be an Alpha. Just stood to reason — as long as you paid no mind to his tender heart. When they met in passing as teenagers, both boys had no reason to doubt that was who they’d be. Everyone said it, after all. But everyone was wrong.

When Darian and Coby meet again in grad school, Darian’s still small and pretty but he’s one hell of a ferocious Alpha — and tall, muscular Coby still struggles with having turned out to be an Omega. The college is short on space due to storm damage, and they’ve got no choice but to share living quarters and come to terms with themselves and their past — and when Coby gets pregnant, their soon-to-be future.

Opposites attract like lightning and steel rods when they meet again in Second Chance, but do they have what it takes to overcome the unexpected for the long haul?

Excerpt

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Willa Okati

Keys in hand, Darian was five steps ahead before he realized Coby hadn’t budged. He looked over his shoulder. “Well? Are you coming?”

Reluctantly, taking one more glance at the admins probably to make sure this was really happening, Coby unfolded himself. He was still half a foot taller than Darian, maybe more, and he’d filled out those lanky bones into wide shoulders and legs long enough to make a man want to try and climb him like a tree. <em>I mean — damn.</em>

But Coby didn’t walk like he used to, full of confidence. He sloped along with a slouching kind of gait that suggested bashful uncertainty, and the way he kept his head down indicated shyness, but the look on his face was nothing but pure, frustrated rage.

Darian couldn’t blame him. Hell, this was fucking with his head. He could only imagine how tangled up Coby had to feel about it. Coby, an Omega? Seriously? He made an even weirder specimen that way than Darian did in his, so what the fuck even.

Behind them, Oscar gave them a wry salute before turning to head for his single digs.

“Bastard,” Darian muttered before turning to give Coby a dose of straight eye contact. “This isn’t how I planned for things to turn out either, but since they did, we can either bitch about it or make the best of it,” he said bluntly. “So come on. Or don’t, but if that’s your call then I’m going to leave you behind. It’s not even noon and I am fucking tired. So?”

Coby looked like he was going to argue, then shook his head and fell into step. He tried to stay behind, act like they weren’t together, but his legs were too long not to catch up. When he did, Darian had the weirdest urge to take his arm. Just an urge, of course. An Alpha thing, a real throwback to the days when a gentleman would take a submissive’s arm to guide him. If he tried that now, fuck knew if this new angry Coby would try and break his elbow.

Darian didn’t do playing it safe, but unusual times called for unusual circumstances. He kept his hands in his pocket and his walk to an amble, and — again, not his usual thing — took a stab at small talk. Anything to calm Coby down before his head imploded. “You’re a teacher too, huh? No kidding. Makes sense, now I think of it. I don’t make sense, but I’d started the pre-classes before things turned out like they did, and I’d put in too much work to go back.”

No answer.

Annoyed, Darian tried again. He hooked a thumb backward. “That was Oscar, a friend from back home. He can be a real douche sometimes, but deep down he’s pretty decent. A good guy to count on, in case you were wondering.”

Which Darian could tell Coby wasn’t. Too lost in his own head and his flinching awareness of every single person who paused to give them either odd or shocked looks when they put two and two together. Darian would have ignored those — he’d gotten used to them years ago — but being with Coby made him glower at everyone, daring them to make a deal out of it, and he could only do that so much before he gave himself a fucking migraine.

One more shot. “What are you teaching?” Darian asked. “I’m math. Calculus, trig, and basic algebra as I need to.”

Coby shook his head and kept his trap firmly shut, his head so far down that his chin almost touched his chest and yep, there went the temper Darian really did try to keep locked down. Didn’t help that looking at Coby made his mouth water and that pissed him right off because for fucks’ sake, his libido needed to mind its own business right now. The rest of him didn’t like the way the Coby he remembered had changed, and his being Omega wasn’t part of that.

He stopped in front of the big man, blocking his path, and lifted his chin. “Would you mind looking at me? And while we’re at it, what the fuck besides the obvious is your problem? It’s not like this is easy for me either.”

Coby glowered at Darian and shouldered past him, strong enough to jostle him aside.

Okay. That was really it.

Darian put on a burst of speed and shouldered past Coby in turn, minus the passive-aggressive shove, and walked in front of him all the way to the housing they’d been assigned. Not much to look at, just your basic small dorm. Still, his key worked on the front door and, down the hall, the quarters he and Coby would be sharing. God help them.

Which were not bad, actually. Darian’s eyebrows went up as he took it in. Roomy enough for two grown men to move around in without knocking elbows, decent closets, a closed door that was likely a private toilet. Even a mini-kitchenette with a sink, a cabinet, and space above a micro-fridge for a coffee pot and an illegal hot plate.

And of course, twin beds shoved in opposite corners.

Darian wrinkled his nose at them. “You’re not going to be able to fit in one of those. You’ll dangle off from the shins down.”

Coby shut the door behind them, and holy shit, Darian had not expected what happened then, nor had he noticed the near-total lack of airflow in there with the windows closed. His own Alpha scent wafted out in waves that completely failed to mask Coby’s Omega scent. Gunpowder and pennyroyal. They shouldn’t have gone together at all, but somehow they did and they gave Darian an immediate half hard-on that he was glad as all hell his loose shirt covered.

The Omega — no, don’t call him that, he’s more than just a gender — Coby — was looking at him now, boy howdy, his hawk eyes gone so wide that the whites showed around his irises. “You really are an Alpha. How?”

“You really want me to explain biology to you?”

Coby ignored that. “You don’t look like an Alpha.” He started to reach for Coby with one hand, then pulled back at the last second. Even so, Darian had the strangest sensation that he’d followed through. He could feel the warmth on his cheek. “You’re still little, and still pretty, and — look at me.”

Darian resisted the urge to rub his cheek. “I don’t look like an Alpha, and you don’t look like an Omega, so aren’t we an equal pair?”

“Equal,” Coby scoffed. He wrapped his arms around himself again squeezing tight. “Do you know the kind of shit I went through when I didn’t present, and when I did –”

“About the same kind of shit I did, I’d guess,” Darian retorted. “And if you’re going to have an attitude about it all summer –”

“Like you’re one to talk!”

Darian sailed past that. Mostly because he was right. “If that’s how you want to be, then I’m setting some ground rules.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “If we can’t get along, we keep our mouths shut when we’re in the same room. No bringing anyone back here to fuck, and that includes me with Oscar — yes, we do fuck sometimes, because neither of us is all that sold on the standard rules. Find somewhere else or it’ll confuse everyone’s nose.”

Coby looked at him, shaking his head. “I didn’t ask for this. Any of it. I didn’t ask to be an Omega.”

“Who the fuck does? I didn’t.”

“You didn’t get it, either,” Coby fired back. “And you know what? I don’t need your help. I can take care of myself. I didn’t ask to share with you.”

“No, the resident director or whoever-the-fuck he is did, so if you have a problem you can take it up with him, mkay?” It wasn’t that Darian didn’t feel any sympathy or empathy for the guy. Turning out not to be what you’d always thought was hard, right? Which meant something else needed saying. He held up a finger. “One last rule. No bullshit embarrassment. We are what we are, and we can’t change that. In here, neither of us has room to hide.”

“And you’d be damned if you even wanted to try,” Coby scoffed. He dropped his bags in a messy heap, a deliberate insult from an Omega. “So it’s really easy for you to say, isn’t it? I’m out of here. There’s got to be somewhere else.”

He stormed out, slamming the door with a bang behind him.

“Shit,” Darian said aloud. He rubbed at his forehead. Well, this was going to be a fun summer, wasn’t it?

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Meet the Author

Willa Okati (AKA Will) is made of many things: imagination, coffee, stray cat hairs, daydreams, more coffee, kitchen experimentation, a passion for winter weather, a little more coffee, a whole lot of flowering plants and a lifelong love of storytelling. Will’s definitely one of the quiet ones you have to watch out for, though he — not she anymore — is a lot less quiet these days.

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Release Blitz: Only You (Second Chance Omegas) by Willa Okati #mpreg #paranormal #LGBTQ @willaokati @GoIndiMarketing

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Title: Only You

Series: Second Chance Omegas #1

Author: Willa Okati

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: July 30, 2021

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 100

Genre: Romance, paranormal, urban fantasy, sex/gender shifters & mpreg, second chances, action adventure

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Synopsis

Second Chance — a small town where anything can happen — and does.

Once upon a time, a eighteen year old Alpha named Alex fell in love with a pretty Omega boy from the wrong side of the tracks. Zachary was everything he’d ever wanted — sweet, sassy, and sexy as hell. Alex would have married that boy and raised baby after baby with him — if Zachary hadn’t run away when Alex popped the question.

Alex doesn’t give up easily. When a train derails on its way to Alex’s hometown, he’s finally got another shot at the one who got away, and he’s not going to waste it. Now he’s got Zachary in his sights, and he’s never letting go again.

It killed Zachary to let Alex go the first time. He loved that man as much as Alex loved him, and he’s never fallen out of love, but he left to give Alex his best chance at living his best life. Zachary can’t — won’t — be sorry for that, no matter what it cost him.

Stranded in Second Chance with nowhere else to go and no way to get there, Zachary’s got no choice but to accept the help and shelter Alex offers. The chemistry’s still there. The desire. The connection. The yearning. But when the secrets they’ve both been keeping come to light, will they shatter their bond for keeps, or bring them together in a forever kind of love?

Excerpt

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Willa Okati

“Coffee, sir?”

“As much of it as you can fit in a cup. No cream but double the sugar. Please.”

The train attendant shook his head, but with a smile and a finger briefly pressed to his lips as he passed over not one but two Styrofoam cups filled to the brim. He was an Omega too, in his mid-thirties by the look of him, and he wore a black jet widower’s ring instead of a wedding band. Things weren’t much easier for the widowed than the unmated or separated. He understood.

Zach took a grateful gulp, not caring that the coffee was hot enough to scald his throat, and asked, “How far behind schedule are we?” Stretching his legs at the next station would do him good; they ached when he stayed still for too long.

“About half an hour, at this point.”

Wishing wouldn’t make the wheels turn faster, but with nothing to look at outside in the dark, Zach adjusted his position so he could get a better view of the passengers in his car. Like most Omegas, he wasn’t very tall. Some new folks had gotten on and others disembarked while he’d dozed, and he liked wondering what their stories were. Two young Alphas who acted like frat bros; interesting, they weren’t the usual size for Alphas, but small and compact and they weren’t at each other’s throats but laughed and joked like best friends. A couple that had to be recently married from the way they could barely resist climbing all over each other; an Omega with a contented smile, probably on his way back home, and —

Oh.

Oh, God.

Zach’s heart jumped into his throat and wedged stuck there even around the burn of his beverage. Three rows ahead, dark wheat-blond hair and a profile almost as familiar as his own turned to smile at the attendant as he refused their offer of coffee. It couldn’t be, it couldn’t be, he hadn’t seen that profile since he was eighteen, but — He’d changed — well, he’d grown up, the way everyone did, the bones of his face maturing from soft boyish cuteness to strong, masculine definition. A short beard, trimmed and shaped, that suited his strong, stubborn jaw. The kind of casual suit that would have cost the equivalent of a month’s rent in Manhattan. Elegant hands with sturdy knuckles and deft fingers, and a smile that lit up the train.

He did and didn’t look a thing like the boy Zach remembered but it was, it was, it was him.

Alex.

Zach would have known him anywhere, even if he’d shaved his head and started scowling instead of smiling. If he closed his eyes, he could feel those hands on the bare skin of memory. After all, you never forgot your first.

“I love you. And I know you love me too.”

He should stop staring. Alex would sense it any second now, and he might look around, and —

His gaze drifted back up, drawn like a moth to a flame.

Alex. Oh, Alex.

Zach’s body twitched with the first pangs of arousal, wanting what he’d had once upon a time. He remembered it all, and he remembered it perfectly. He dreamed about it, when he slept. The taste of Alex’s skin, the softness and hardness of his mouth and how his eagerness had nearly rubbed the insides of Zach’s thighs raw. The fullness, almost too much and too tight, when he slid inside Zach.

“I love you. And I know you love me too.”

Anger slowly took alarm and unhappiness’s place – anger, and frustration with himself. Zach should have sensed this train was to be avoided. Dodged. Something! And Alex, sitting there as if he didn’t have a care in the world – it was everything Zach had wanted for him, the entire reason he’d left Alex in the first place, but seeing it in the flesh opened all those old wounds back up and made them bleed afresh. The pain from that moment of saying no to what Alex had offered with all his big, warm heart cut sharper than any knife – but he’d had to. You didn’t do that to your first boyfriend, did you? Take him up on a marriage proprosal and tie him down to a shitty life based on a few promises made in the afterglow?

He’d done the right thing by saying no, leaving, and giving Alex his freedom. Zach knew that. Was sure of it. Even if none of that had ever made him feel any better about it.

They must have been traveling farther and faster than Zach had realized, or he was more out of it than he’d known. Between one blink and the next the train’s PA system crackled to far-too-loud life again, announcing they’d reach their next station at Second Chance in ten minutes. Second Chance? What kind of name was that for a town?

Alex looked up at the speaker, nodded in an absent sort of way, and stood to open the overhead compartment. He took out a bulging messenger bag and slung it over his shoulder and stuffed a pair of thick gloves and a warm knit hat in the pockets of his coat. This would be his stop.

Zach caught his lip between his teeth, torn between – it was pure foolishness, the idea of going to him — and sanity, staying right where he was.

Let it go.

Zach would have, really he would. But as Alex walked past him – always so eager to do things, that one; he would start heading for the exits before the train had even come to a halt — he only made it two steps past Zach’s seat before he stopped. As Zach’s heart sank down past the pit of his stomach he saw Alex pause, then turn to look back.

He stopped, just like Zach had, blank with surprise. “Do I know you?”

Zach held his breath. Could he lie? Yes, but this new, matured Alex would have the life experience not to believe him, and he hadn’t changed nearly as much as Alex had. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“I do know you. I know your face,” Alex said. His voice had matured with the rest of him as he aged, going from sweet to firm with a raspy vocal fry on the edges. “Zach?”

Purchase

Changeling Press LLC | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iTunes

Meet the Author

Willa Okati (AKA Will) is made of many things: imagination, coffee, stray cat hairs, daydreams, more coffee, kitchen experimentation, a passion for winter weather, a little more coffee, a whole lot of flowering plants and a lifelong love of storytelling. Will’s definitely one of the quiet ones you have to watch out for, though he — not she anymore — is a lot less quiet these days.

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Skye: I’m a lone wolf, but I’ve left the forest to fight against demons who’ve taken over the world. Right now I’m with a pack in Baltimore, but their alpha respects my ways. I take assignments from him, but I live alone and fight alone — until the night I’m attacked by a swarm of bat demons and a hot little snake dancer jumps in to back me up. For me, it’s lust at first sight, but it’s more than that. I think this adorable little tough guy is my mate, even though he’s not a wolf.

Erik: I’m called Snake Charmer. Dancer. Contortionist. Spirit twin to an alien serpent who has always been my protector. My life has been a series of horrors with some beautiful experiences tossed in. I’ve learned to be independent, especially after my best friend and I were brutalized in an attack that left her dead. Now I’m out for revenge, and it’s brought me to Maryland, directly into the path of a gorgeous werewolf who makes me feel things I never dreamed of. It can’t last, though, and nothing, not even desire this deep, will come between me and my vendetta.

Warning: While set in a futuristic paranormal reality, Snake Charmer includes references to previous child abuse, rape, and murder that may be triggers to some readers.

Cover Art by Bryan Keller

#ParanormalRomance #Gay #Vampires #Werewolves #AlienEncounters

 

 

Long, lean, wild and unconventional for an Omega, Zane rocks and rolls Alpha Grant’s world. Zane can’t be predicted. He can’t be contained. And Grant freaking loves it.

But it’s not all beer and BJs, even for these two. Grant’s never wanted to have kids of his own. His family is Legacy Tattoo, the business he finally reclaimed after his grandfather’s death. He’s dedicating his life to making it not just flourish but thrive. And he doesn’t know — yet — about Zane’s status as a single father to a rambunctious pre-K rebel.

Their love affair is gonna be complicated. And — downright combustible.

Cover Art by Bryan Keller

#LGBTQ+ #Mpreg #ParanormalRomance

 

 

Think werewolves aren’t real?

Tell that to the four women and one man who find themselves captive to the whims of the Zante pack’s males. Fierce, mythical, and sexy-as-sin, these delightfully debauched wolves guide their lovers through a journey of seductive exploration. Whether newly discovered or rekindled, their relationships are as passionate as they are.

And the women can give as good as they take. From a fairy bent on revenge to a vixen determined to destroy the pack, they’ll all discover that getting caught is its own reward.

Wild and dangerous, menacing and exciting, otherworldly and naughty to the last…

The men of the Zante pack will make a believer out of you.

Publisher’s Note: This box set contains the previously released novellas Firecrackers: Chemistry to Burn, Feral Magnetism, Feral Bachelorism, Feral Hedonism, and Feral Voyeurism. 

Cover Art by Bryan Keller

#LGBTQ+ #werewolves #multiplepartners

 

 

Inexplicable by Willa Okati #gayromance

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Cover Art by Bryan Keller

Deacon’s everything Kit wants. Kit’s everything Deacon needs — three days a month. Alpha and ex-jarhead Deacon’s an over-the-road trucker, always on the move, and he likes it that way. And Omega Kit’s… good with that. He’s not going anywhere. Not seeing anyone else. He’s promised himself he’ll never be like his parents — he won’t tie a man down when he doesn’t want to be tied.

What Kit doesn’t know is that he’s pregnant — until the night their son is born. Now everything’s changing. Babies do what they want, when they want. Just like Deacon.

Only Deacon’s not sure just what he does want… but he’s sure what he’s not willing to give up on, and that’s a future. And a family. His family.

Now all he has to do is convince Kit he’s in this for keeps.

 

Available at Changeling Press

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Willa Okati

Deacon came home that night as the sun came up. Oh, not his real home, Kit supposed. Deacon’s only fixed address was the sleeper compartment in his eighteen-wheeler, and had been since the day he’d paid cash down for the truck. But if home was where the heart was, then when he came to Kit, Deacon was coming home.

And then coming, and coming again. And maybe just once more for sweet good measure.

Deacon hadn’t been expected, and that made his arrival all the more perfect. Kit didn’t care that he was dozy and wobbly and warm from a night in bed. Kit’s bed had been too lonely but now that would change because Deacon was here, right here at last. Hair ruffled, stubble on his cheeks and a cocky grin on his lips, Deacon looked like trouble in ragged blue jeans and good leather boots, ready for anything. His Marine Corps tattoo showed where he’d rolled his sleeves up and his eyes gleamed with a taste for playing as hard as he worked.

“Deacon. Deacon.” Not giving a damn about standing on his front stoop in a busy neighborhood just waking up to a new day, and which would have loved a show, Kit leapt at Deacon and wound both arms around his neck.

“Now that’s what I call a hello.” Deacon laughed, low in his throat and pleased, and held Kit up as easily as if he wasn’t a full-grown man with shoulders just as broad as the Alpha’s. He bent his head to nibble at Kit’s neck. “Need something, Omega?”

After all these years as lovers, he could still make Kit blush. Kit hid his face against Deacon’s firm chest and shook his head, not knowing what to say. I need you was obvious. I want you, even more so. I have to have you inside me…

Kit peeked up from beneath his lashes, aware of just what that did to Deacon, and glad, because a look like that was all he could manage between breathless shudders of yearning. “I want you inside me,” he said, winding his legs as well as his arms around Deacon. “Come inside.” In all ways, he meant, and he knew Deacon understood him that way.

Deacon bit his lip hard and swore, dark and rough. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“A little death,” Kit promised, twining closer. “Make love to me.”

“Sweetheart, if you think you can stop me now…”

And oh, Kit liked the sound of that. He laughed as Deacon, strong as an ox, wriggled him loose and tossed him over his shoulder. A hearty smack on the ass and they were on their way up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Kit slid his hands down the back of Deacon’s jeans, kneading the fine firm flesh he found there.

Deacon popped his hip again, the sting sweet and sharp. “Not playing fair there, Kit.”

Kit rubbed his cheek against Deacon’s shoulder. “All’s fair.”

“God damn, when you purr like that you make me want to bathe you in cream and lick you clean,” Deacon said as he reached the top of the steps and set Kit lightly on his feet. He gave him a warm look, no less wild than his nature allowed, and tilted his head at the locked door. “Want a good fucking, Kitten? Let me in.”

And didn’t Kit just! He hadn’t seen Deacon in weeks, far longer than they usually went between visits — Deacon’s work had taken him to California for ages, and every time he’d planned to make his way back to the East Coast, another job opened up. Every time they put their plans off, Kit retreated to his bed with a toy or two specifically designed for Omega satisfaction, but they just weren’t the same.

They couldn’t kiss you. They didn’t have hands to run over your skin. They couldn’t whisper wicked things in your ears. They couldn’t…

Who cared? They didn’t matter. Not when he had his favorite Alpha in his arms. Kit hurried to let them both in, and turned quick as a wink to catch Deacon by the belt. He tug-dragged the man to his bed, both of them laughing, shedding clothes as they went — not in any particular order, and when they reached their goal Deacon still had his jeans on, if open, and one sock, and Kit still wore his pajama shirt.

Kit peeled that off with a thrill going through him at the way Deacon stopped to stare hungrily, then fell back onto his bed. He rested on his elbows, his legs splayed slightly apart with one drawn up a little to hide his cock from Deacon’s view. Deacon loved a show, and he loved being the one to draw out a performance. With him — only him — Kit could play that sort of a part.

Deacon, he trusted.

Though Deacon had paused to frown at the bed, taking in the unplugged heating pad pushed to one side and the uncapped bottle of ibuprofen on the nightstand, along with a mostly-empty bottle of water. “You all right, hon?”

Kit shrugged. Part of the reason he hadn’t slept had been a backache that just wouldn’t quit, but he’d spent the previous evening helping baby-sit his friend Jory’s new son, lifting and chasing and picking up after the exhausted new father. “Tweaked a muscle,” he said. “Nothing to worry about.”

“You sure?”

Kit clicked his tongue. A distracted Alpha wouldn’t give him what he wanted, what he needed. He reached out to tickle Deacon’s thigh with his bare toes and get him back on track. “You can’t do much with your jeans on, love. Take those off.”

 

About Willa Okati

Willa Okati is made of many things: imagination, coffee, stray cat hairs, daydreams, more coffee, kitchen experimentation, a passion for winter weather, a little more coffee, and a lifelong love of storytelling. She is definitely one of the quiet ones you have to watch out for.

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