Book Blitz: Chasing Winter by Autumn Lishky #RABTBookTours #ChasingWinter #AutumnLishky #ParanormalRomance @RABTBookTours

Posted on January 1, 2022 by JessicaS

Paranormal Romance/Erotica

Date Published: 01-01-2022

Publisher: Dirty Little Love, LLC

Thirteen Clans. Thirteen Males. One prize.

Winter Jarl is the most notorious female warrior of her species. Her father is chief, and he’s dying, so he’s cashed in on a promise she made long ago: he’s setting her up with an alpha from each of the thirteen clans before she takes over his position.

Sentenced to a year of isolation, she will spend twenty-eight-days alone with each man. By the end of it, Winter must choose one to stand beside her.

The challenge? She must be in love to produce an heir.

Cycle One: Chasing Winter

When Winter’s oath comes due, she isn’t ready to give up her freedom, her body, or her future. Too bad her nature won’t be doing her any favors.

Thunder is young and inexperienced and the first to encounter Winter Jarl’s deadly sexuality. But he’s got a bucket list of positions he wants to take her in, and he’s willing to face her wrath just to check each one off.

If you enjoyed Audrey Carlan’s Calendar Girl series, you’ll love Autumn Lishky’s Wooing the Alpha series.

Jump into this intense paranormal erotica now and see who you want to win Winter’s heart.

About the Author

Autumn Lishky is a quiet, little woman with a big, loud imagination, and a dirty one at that. Living in the Oklahoma City area, she has worked various jobs from pizza delivery girl to night host at a funeral home, but no matter the nature of her income, she is always lost in a world of fantastic sex.

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Now in Paperback: Three Brothers Fair by Emily Carrington #LGBTQ #darkfantasy @CarringtonEmily

Posted on January 1, 2022 by JessicaS

According to prophecy, three brothers must find their mates. But prophecies are often both right and misunderstood.

Prince of Seas (Three Brothers Fair 1): What’s the worst thing about being a water demon? You can’t tell your husbands apart. Of course, it doesn’t help when your newest mate-to-be disguises himself as his brother to win your hand.

Prince of Land and Fire (Three Brothers Fair 2): Against his will, Lord Tian has fallen for a magical land creature — a gnome. Prophecy says he must wed a land creature and become a destroyer and spy. When Tian and Alastair play at BDSM and love they set in motion the destruction of the status quo.

The Zephyr Prince (Three Brothers Fair 3): Andy is the eldest son of the ruling kelpie family. His two brothers have found their lovers, in accordance with an often-misunderstood prophecy. Now it’s Andy’s turn…

Get it at Amazon

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Emily Carrington
Excerpt from Prince of Seas

Comfortable in the high-backed armchair, Hans watched his brothers.

“The hair dye won’t stay for more than a few hours.” Tian grimaced at his reflection. “Andy, what the hell’m I supposed to do?”

Andy didn’t look away from the book on his desk. “You could start by not croaking like a new-hatched chick.”

The armchair was positioned in a corner, well out of the way of the teasing and annoyance that always flew between Tian and Andrew Weinberg. With a mug to warm his hands, Hans smirked. He loved listening to his brothers bicker without true heat.

Tian stalked over to the desk and gave one of its legs a hard kick.

The book jumped, but Andy didn’t react.

“What’m I gonna do?” Tian’s voice rose. “He’s a hideous, self-centered water demon.”

“Is there any other kind?” Hans asked, his voice barely audible to his own ears. Although he thought Prince Felimid mac Lugh rather attractive for a water demon. Yes, his skin tended to resemble that of an eczema sufferer when he walked in air-breather form, but his grace when he swam… Hans drank deeply of his tea in an effort to hide the flush of his cheeks with the liquid’s heat. In an effort to distract himself, he considered the archaic form of the prince’s last name. Mac meant “son of.” And lugh was some sort of sea god. The space between both names wasn’t common anymore, but from what Hans knew, the mac Lughs were a highly traditional people.

Tian stomped back to the mirror and whined, “Andrew, help me.”

“You’re pathetic.” But Andy got up from his desk at last and crossed to Tian. “You know our bodies don’t hold human chemicals well. Why did you waste time trying?”

Hans watched as Andy flicked a hand through Tian’s hair. Gray dye flaked off into the air and dropped to the carpet.

“Were you thinking to pretend you’re an ancient mortal?” Andy raked his fingers over the part in Tian’s chestnut mass. “The prince — or at least his parents — know we’re triplets. The moment Hans and I walk into the room, your secret will be out.”

Color blazed high in Tian’s cheeks, but his voice carried less prissy outrage and more fear. “I wanted to make myself unattractive to him. I’m too young to be married off this way.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male, female/female, and transgender romance. She has been writing since 2011 and has dedicated her career to two universes: SearchLight and Sticks and Stones. SearchLight is all about magical creatures finding their HEA, and Sticks and Stones finds happily-ever-afters for her contemporary characters. Sticks and Stones tends to happen in small towns, whereas SearchLight happens all up and down the East Coast and across the United States.

New at Changeling Press: Cunning Man by Lena Austin #urbanfantasy #PNR #gay @Lena_Austin @changelingpress

Posted on December 31, 2021 by JessicaS

St. John Everett ekes out a living as a bartender in New Orleans. Then the pandemic strikes and things begin to shut down — including the bar where he works. Things start looking up when Jin is notified that he’s inherited a cottage in England from a great-uncle he knew nothing about. Out of a job, with no employment opportunities on the horizon, Jin boards a plane to London.

He falls immediately in love with the small cottage and the tiny village of Manuden, and in lust with his new solicitor, Rick Harrow. But Rick isn’t just his solicitor. He’s descended from a long line of Guardians of the local Cunning Man — the title and powers Jin inherited along with the cottage. No longer just a bartender, Jin is now a legendary male witch who uses prophecy, herbalism, and witch bottles to protect the local community.

With his three magical white mice, his Guardian/lover, and the Witches of Essex, Jin must use his new powers as The Cunning Man to save the village, his lover, and his new friends from a pandemic gone wild. And who knows? If his talent making witch bottles is as good as it is with juggling booze bottles, he might even save the world.

Save 15% Today at Changeling Press

EXCERPT

Jin sat in stunned silence with the rest of the employees of the Last Call Bar, just off Bourbon Street. The smell of the recently departed customers — a combination of sweat, smoke, booze, and musk — still clung to the air. No one moved or spoke until Jenny rasped out one short sob. Then all hell broke loose.

“What do you mean, we’re closing?”

“How long, Barry? How long will this fucking pandemic lockdown last? I got bills to pay!”

Barry looked ready to cry. He was a dead ringer for Santa despite the aloha shirt he wore year-round. Jin knew why and jumped up and put his thin arms around the big man for a sideways hug. Barry’s whole body shook with a sigh.

Jin turned to his coworkers and gave them his best Calm Down look. Every bartender had one. Even while Jin quite literally juggled bottles, he usually could quell all but the rowdiest with his. He waited until they all subsided. “We all know Barry’s brother just died up in New York because of this. Even if the pandemic seems isolated to New York and Washington right now, none of us are stupid enough to think it’s going to stay there. Barry’s just being preemptive. You all know it’s coming, and we work in a place where everyone is spreading their germs all over each other and us.” He grinned wryly at them all. “Booze isn’t anything folks need to live. Time for us to think ahead. What do folks need when they’re trapped in their houses and afraid to come out? Food? Like, delivery? Everyone, get your butts out there and hire yourself to all the food delivery places. Pizza, grocery delivery, whatever. Your side hustles just became your main income. Barry can call us when he reopens. Right?”

This was his one secret gift, in action. He’d always had the ability to read a situation, organize it, and usually could find a solution to the chaos out of the millions of weird facts he locked in storage in his brain. He hated it, most of the time. It felt Machiavellian, like playing chess with real people. This time, it felt right to use it.

There were mumbles, but almost everyone had their thinking caps on instead of panicking. That was the main thing. Barry generously handed out a split of the night’s money, giving everyone a chance to ramp up their side hustle or go find other work. He got hugs and murmured words of reassurance in return. By 3 AM, most had cleaned up and departed.

Jin helped Barry lock up the bar and took home the celery and food in the bar fridge. He would enjoy the garnishes as a meal before bed. He didn’t like admitting it to his now-former coworkers, but he knew he’d have the hardest time finding a delivery job. He didn’t own a car. He rode a bike, walked, or took public transportation. He’d never learned to drive. Orphans who aged out of the foster system didn’t have the advantage of parents to teach them. He didn’t know how to do anything but serve in restaurants and tend the bar. Well, that and peddle his assets. That’s what he’d done as a hungry, lonely teenager, and if necessary, he’d sell blowjobs again. But that was the last resort. Well, not quite the last resort. He could use his degree for once. He’d bet even his bachelor’s in medical plant chemistry would be needed. He gave one bark of derisive laughter. Who would have guessed his useless degree might come in handy? In the meantime, he’d need an income. He had to pay rent. Student loans were the bulk of his budget but rent made sure you didn’t sleep in the rain. Therefore, rent money was a top priority.

Well, he’d have to look around at the local food joints to see who might need… shit. What? New Orleans wasn’t closing down yet, but it would. And Bourbon Street would become a ghost town. Jin rode his bike down the dark streets of early morning New Orleans and pedaled home. He reminded himself he had time. A few weeks, probably. Then every major city would shut down. Louisiana would be one of the last because New Orleans depended on the tourist industry. That was just an economic reality. Jin shuddered, knowing he was living in a giant Petri dish. Masks. He’d need masks. Maybe that was a side hustle he could do. He could sew. He just didn’t have a sewing machine. Maybe he could borrow one or find one in a thrift store. Okay, option one. Sew masks. That was a start.

The gates to his apartment were wide open, and Jin turned into the driveway and sped to the back of the large house and right up to the side of the former carriage house. He locked his bike to the stair as an improvised gate and made his way up to the little studio apartment he called home. His mail was tucked into the basket by the door as usual, but this time a large manilla envelope bulged out above the junk mail. Curious, Jin grabbed it all and got inside. His top hat and purple coat were hot in the humid early spring air, and he was happy to get out of the steampunk outfit he wore as a sort of trademark. In a matter of minutes, he had a mug of tea and the curious envelope in his hand. Barefoot and in loose cotton pants, he blinked at the address.

“To Mr. St. John Everett…”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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?

Awakening by Mikala Ash #steampunk #romance @Ash_Mikala @changelingpress

Posted on December 26, 2021 by JessicaS

Anne Device, daughter of a prostitute turned spiritualist, has seen it all — degradation, desperation, anger, pain, and sorrow. Unbroken by the rough and dirty streets of Whitechapel, Anne’s world revolves around her family — her mother, sister, and brother.

Enter the charismatic and attractive Lord Carlyle, a gentleman magician who sees in Anne the potential to move worlds. For the first time Anne experiences the magic of romantic love. A rags to riches story she’d only imagined possible in a Faerie tale.

On her glorious wedding night she willingly gives her body, but the days that followed will test her very soul.

Get it at Changeling Press

EXCERPT

I await my husband.

My name is Anne Device. I am nineteen years of age, and this is my wedding night. Already I am in error. Is this the first lesson of my new life? That it is not possible to truly let go of the past?

My new name is Lady Anne Carlyle, the virgin bride of Lord Lucian Carlyle of Lancashire.

How grand that sounds. I whisper it aloud, over and over, hoping it is all real, and not some silly and impossible dream. I began this chronicle to quell my nerves, for truly, my hand holding the quill trembles, and ink drops litter the page like the footprints of a confused imp.

My husband, how strange it is to write those words, for they seem to resonate in my mind like the incantations spoken to create an earthquake or a tumultuous storm at sea.

My husband, my husband, my husband, my husband.

Indeed, what tremors will I soon experience in the marriage bed behind where I sit?

I read what I have written, and a strong desire has taken an irresistible hold. I seem compelled to record my new life so I can remember in my dotage what these times are like. The more I think about it I realise general sentiments will probably mean little to my future self. In fifty years will I remember the context? Probably not. With that in mind I’ve decided to keep as detailed a record as possible of my new state, and how it came about.

My husband, Lucian, is downstairs in his marvellous library. “Prepare yourself, my little dove,” he had said when his closest friends, a curious collection of serious men of science had left. “I return you to your mother’s care for a final word before you become Lady Carlyle in spirit as in law.”

Lady Anne Carlyle. I wonder if I should ever get used to the title, or indeed to people bowing and curtsying as I pass, as they did today at the church.

To think, ten years ago I was barefoot with dirty rags draped over my scrawny shoulders, with my empty belly growling like a wild dog while I hawked matches on the corner of Commercial and Fournier Streets in Spitalfields. Gone now from my life were the slums where my mama sold herself to soldiers and sailors in the cramped room that also housed my younger brother and sister. Jennet and James, both of different fathers, and both unlike me in nature and disposition. Fragile Jennet so meek and mild, and James boisterous and impatient. That James would turn to soldiering was no surprise. He saw enough of them to acquire their rough ways and wanderlust. The mystery was how Jennet and I remained intact. How my mama withstood the temptation to sell our virginity, for we would have drawn a goodly price, is testament to the fact that she has principles, though she disguised them well enough when dealing with her men.

How to explain my conversion from ragamuffin with dirt smudged on my hollow cheeks to a sweet-smelling young woman able to attract the love of a lord? Though seemingly miraculous, and I will not deny the magical quality of the transition, the reason is simple enough.

My mama loves us. Of that there is no doubt. No matter the countless difficulties she endured and overcame, she insisted on educating us. In between male callers and our jobs; my selling lucifers on the corner with Jennet shivering beside me, and James off running telegrams for tuppence a day, she taught us our letters and sums, and how to behave in front of our betters. I grew up on a healthy diet of penny shockers, and sensational novels published in serial form. My favourite stories were those rags to riches tales. I enjoyed them because they were so fanciful, and for a little time they took me out of the squalor that was my daily fare. Never did I imagine I would emulate my brave and virtuous heroines. Mama instructed me in other things denied to Jennet and James. Things I was ordered never to speak about, lest we all ‘end up dangling at the end of a rope.’ A rule I am now breaking, though none shall read this but my future self.

Though he does not know everything about us, Lord Carlyle is fully aware of our lowly state, Mama’s pitiful occupation, and what she had sacrificed for her children. We have hidden little of that time from him. It bothers him not. That is a miracle, and one for which I am grateful.

So much for that chapter of my life. That strange creature who bore my name is gone forever, and I now embark on a new story. I will awaken in the morn a different person. A woman.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Aussie Mikala Ash used to be a mild-mannered training & development consultant by day, and a wild sci-fi and paranormal adventure writer by night. Now she is a brazen full-time writer and nature photographer who is concentrating on having among other things, “… bags, and bags of fun!” Mikala can be found on Facebook and on Twitter.

Book Tour: Moon Scorned by Marty Mayberry #shifters #youngadult @marty_mayberry

Posted on December 23, 2021 by JessicaS

I’m so pleased to be part of the book tour for Moon Scorned by Marty Mayberry! Read on for more info and a chance to enter a giveaway where you could win the prequel novella in the in the series called Moon Hunted!

Scorned bk 1

Moon Scorned (Raven Moon Wolves #1)

Expected Publication Date: January 5th, 2022

Genre: Upper YA/ Shifter/ Paranormal Romance

I fell hard and fast for the alpha of an elite pack.

Then he rejected me.

Everly

Asher took off when I needed him most, rejecting me and my inner wolf. Then my half-sister is murdered at an exclusive college that’s enshrouded in magic and secrets. When the school offers me a scholarship, I accept and move onto campus. I’m going to find out who killed her, then rip them apart. And if I run into Asher while I’m there? He’ll learn I’m no longer his sweet little thing. He’s about to taste the fury of a wolf shifter scorned.

Asher

Everly’s everything to me, but to protect her, I had to shove her away. If I go near her, the Drudge Pack will discover who she truly is. My father—their enforcer—will kill her. But when she shows up at Ravenmire College, my inner wolf hungers. I’ll do anything to keep her safe—even if that means sacrificing myself and betraying my dangerous family.

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Excerpt

Asher was waiting for me outside work, standing in the darkness below a burst of evergreens. When he saw me, he strode forward and cupped my face with his warm hands.

Likes him, my wolf sighed within me.

“Missed you,” he whispered.

“You, too.” My heart rate picked up to double time.

His lips captured mine, softly at first, then harder and with growing need.

I wasn’t sure where this was going between us, but I did know one thing. Cats might rule and wolves might drool, but Asher was my catnip. Whenever he touched me, I purred.

Pulling away, he took my hand and guided me across the sidewalk and out onto the beach.

During the day, crowds of humans mobbed Old Orchard Beach. Once the sun had set and the tourists headed to their rented condos and hotels, the locals could breathe a sigh of relief and enjoy the quiet. And late at night, especially when the moon bathed the sky with her milky gaze, wolves like me and Ash could run.

I kicked off my shoes and shimmied out of my jeans and long-sleeve shirt—I wisely wore thin shorts and a tank underneath.

Asher watched, his smoldering eyes tracing my every curve as I moved. We’d come close to going all the way but hadn’t done it yet. I wasn’t sure why I resisted. He made it clear he wanted to. The heat simmering in my veins told me I did too. I guess I wanted to wait. We’d only known each other for a few months.

He had to leave for college soon, but he said he’d come back for each of his breaks. We had plenty of time to do things then.

We strode down to where the water licked at the shore and stood, staring out at the shimmering sea.

“You ever gone skinny dipping?” The grin Ash shot me was full of mischief.

“Umm…”

He lifted his shirt and ripped it over his head, tossing it aside. Moonlight teased across his muscular shoulders and defined abs. He told me he played soccer in college. Worked out now and then in the gym at his dad’s estate.

This was pure Asher. His amazing body was the alpha wolf in him shining through.

He reached for the button at the top of his jeans.

My breath jerked out of me. “I haven’t skinny dipped yet.” I nibbled on my lower lip.

With his jeans gaping open, he took my hands and squeezed them. His voice softened, something he did only with me. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

“The water’s cold. It barely gets above sixty this time of year.”

“It’s not that bad. I promise I won’t touch…too much.” He shucked his jeans. “I’ll even leave my boxers on.”

“It’s not quite skinny dipping if we’re not naked.” My swallow got caught in my throat. I couldn’t drag my attention away from the corded muscles standing out in his thighs. The bulge in his shorts.

“Ev?” he said, his voice calling to everything inside me like a siren from deep beneath the sea. He lifted my chin, and our eyes met. His freakin’ smoldered.

“Okay, I will,” I said.

His fingers caressed my bare arms, and my skin tingled.

He splashed into the sea and turned when he was in waist-deep water. A wave crashed against his back, trying to thrust him back to me, but he maintained his position, watching.

I wanted to tease him, to shimmy my hips and dance while I did it, but I wanted to be close to him even more. I tugged off my shorts and tank. They fell from my limp fingers to the sand with a soft rustle.

Asher groaned. “You’re gorgeous.” His fingers swirled through the water at his sides.

Holding his gaze, I ran down into the water, dressed only in my underwear.

Asher reached for my hand and tugged me right up against him. He ran his palms up and down my arms. As if that would warm me up?

Actually, his touch did. It warmed me up too much. Maybe tonight, we’d…

Likes, my wolf said. More kisses.

I jumped up and he caught me. He’d always catch me. My legs went around his waist, my arms, his shoulders.

His lips sought mine, searing through me. His tongue stroked the seam of my lips, and I opened my mouth, letting him inside. I didn’t need to build a rocket ship to take us to the moon or the stars. Asher’s kiss took me there already.

“You…” he said when he lifted his head. “Have I told you yet how much you mean to me?”

“You can always tell me again.”

“Ev.” His fingers teased my spine, and I quivered, wishing now I’d taken off all my clothes. He kissed the nape of my neck. I melted, my knees pure mush.

Frigid water might bathe my skin, but Asher was the fire keeping me warm

Purchase on Amazon

About the Author

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Marty lives in New England, where you’ll find her plotting and writing while walking in the park–yes, at the same time! Otherwise, you might find her sitting in the shade with her feet up, reading everything she can get her hands on.

Marty Mayberry | Twitter | Instagram | Facebook | TikTok

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Book Tour Schedule

December 20^th

R&R Book Tours (Kick-Off) http://rrbooktours.com

Reads & Reels (Spotlight) http://readsandreels.com

I Smell Sheep (Review) http://www.ismellsheep.com/

Didi Oviatt (Spotlight) https://didioviatt.wordpress.com

December 21^st

@my_books_and_coffee (Review) https://www.instagram.com/my_books_and_coffee/

@atrailofpages (Review) https://www.instagram.com/atrailofpages/

@ofmoviesandbooks (Review) https://www.instagram.com/ofmoviesandbooks/

Balancing Books and Beauty (Review) https://balancingbooksandbeauties.wordpress.com/blog/

@balancing_books_and_beauties – https://www.instagram.com/balancing_books_and_beauties/

Stine Writing (Spotlight) https://christinebialczak.com/

December 22^nd

@disneyallthe_way (Review) https://www.instagram.com/disneyallthe_way/

Eyerolling Demigod’s Book Blog (Review) https://www.eyerollingdemigod.com/

@dreaminginpages (Review) https://www.instagram.com/dreaminginpages/

B is for Book Review (Spotlight) https://bforbookreview.wordpress.com

December 23^rd

@books_inthecity (Review) https://www.instagram.com/books_inthecity/

@eamons (Review) https://www.instagram.com/eamons/

Books + Coffee = Happiness (Review) https://bookscoffeehappiness.com/

The Livi Chronicles (Review) https://livibrooksbooks.wixsite.com/website

Sadie’s Spotlights (Spotlight) http://sadiesspotlight.com/

See Sadie Read (Review) http://sadieforsythe.com/wp/

Bunny’s Book Reviews (Review) https://bookwormbunnyreviews.blogspot.com/

December 24^th

Bri’s Book Nook (Review) https://brisbooknook.com/

@bookishkelly2020 (Spotlight) https://www.instagram.com/BookishKelly2020/

Liliyana Shadowlyn (Spotlight) https://lshadowlynauthor.com/

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Release Blitz: Voice by Sean Ian O’Meidhir and Connal Braginsky #PNR #LGBTQ #dragqueens @ninestarpress @GoIndiMarketing

Posted on December 21, 2021 by JessicaS

Title: Voice

Series: Crossing Nuwa, Book Three

Author: Sean Ian O’Meidhir, Connal Braginsky

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 12/21/2021

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 62500

Genre: Paranormal Romance, LGBTQIA+, pride, parade, bears, action/adventure, drag queens, vampires, shifters, magic, mind control, urban fiction, plus sized

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Description

After an unfortunate mishap, Robbie has to learn how to use his Command abilities. Just when he thinks that it’s safe to turn them off entirely, he is challenged in a way he never imagined and is faced with the decision to use his abilities or lose his beloved cousin for good. His growth puts a strain on his budding relationship with Theo who is already stretched thin with his own dilemmas. Will the couple grow from their individual struggles, or will this be a final dividing point?

This is the third book in the Crossing Nüwa series and a continuation of Robbie and Theo’s relationship growth and struggles.

Excerpt

Voice
Sean Ian O’Meidhir and Connal Braginsky © 2021
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
Robbie

“Oh shit!” I cursed, spitting out the flavor of another man’s unwanted lips on mine and chafing my lips as I fervently wiped my mouth on my sleeve.

With small bony hands, he grabbed both of my arms. “Robbie,” Brent said. His high-pitched nasally voice, which had always annoyed me a little, now grated on every nerve. “You know you want me as much as I want you. Stop playing hard to get.”

I couldn’t believe this was happening. At school! I glanced around the empty college hallway for anyone to potentially save me, but classes were in session. I felt more than saw Brent lunge in for another kiss, and my lua training kicked in. Thrusting into his solar plexus with one palm, I snatched his wrist and wrenched. As he fell, I twisted him, catching his chin in my left hand, and by stretching him out I was able to face him away from me.

“Oooo,” Brent cooed, kneeling from the ground. “You like it rough. Robbie, I never knew.”

Disgusted, I dropped him and tripped back into the wall. “I thought we were friends,” I managed pathetically. Confusion swirled around me. We were supposed to be on the way to class. We were supposed to be working on a project for class. We were supposed to be studying for finals. We were supposed to be doing anything but what he had just done. Brent had been my closest friend since I started college. While he had asked me out that first week, he backed off when I told him I had a boyfriend.

Brent pulled his small frame up, standing and looking up at me with a twisted smile that made me cringe. “You know we’re more than that. I don’t know what you see in that fat dude you call a boyfriend. You’re so much hotter than that. Deserve someone like me. Come on; let’s cut biology and get out of here? They know we’re working on that project anyway.”

I caught him as he moved in again. The scent of his sauerkraut-covered hot dog lunch wafted from his breath, making me shudder in revulsion. “Just stop!” I shouted, not caring if someone overheard, and pushed him back with all my strength.

He hit the other wall looking stunned and then slumped to the ground.

“Oh,” I exhaled. Nüwa are stronger than humans. What if I…?

Bending down, I gingerly pushed him, almost expecting a horror film scene of him grappling me down. He just rolled over, looking peacefully asleep.

Scrambling, I stumbled away. And then ran.

Chapter Two
Compartmentalize, compartmentalize, compartmentalize, I chanted to myself. Brent was okay. I had just knocked him out. Someone would come along and find him passed out in the hall. Or he’d wake up and…and what? Call me? I glanced apprehensively at the phone mounted to the overly cheerful artichoke-shaped charging station in our kitchen.

I had thrown myself into cooking the moment I got home. Ms. Gomez, our live-in housekeeper and cook, kindly let me use the kitchen while she took off to the store. The new pasta maker I got online dominated my attention until it started slipping back to Brent. Maggie’s voice rung out in my mind, reminding me to compartmentalize—to put this experience in another box in my mind. And shut it. Lock it. Learning to tuck away the memories from childhood that left me feeling vulnerable had kept me sane this past year.

The memory of holding my mother’s lifeless body after she had sacrificed herself to save me came unbidden to my mind, and once again, I was awash with that guilt. The deep cleansing breath helped to center me, and I imagined settling the top on that box again.

As I thought more about it, it seemed like I was compartmentalizing other things too. The time we spent in San Diego lived in one box and my time spent in the oasis of my home with Theo in yet another. I found that I was a different person in each context. With Theo I was most at ease. He knew me better than anyone, even Maggie, though I had spared him the sordid details about my childhood. There was never any guesswork with Theo. He loved me unconditionally and was always there for me. I could be myself with Maggie and Abi, too, but felt a wall with them. I know it’s because they’re women and Nüwa, and Mother and my aunt instilled in me a fear of both and an internal need to be deferential. So, I knew what the wall was; I just didn’t see a way of getting past it. And part of me didn’t want to. They were both amazing, and loving, and kind. And nothing at all like Mother and my aunt. So, they deserved my respect and deference.

And college was another box. I groaned loudly, channeling my fury into my whisk, hitting the sides of the bowl in a frenzy. The cream sauce I was making from scratch for the Italian sausage lasagna spun around in a vortex inside the bowl. How could I go back if Brent was there? The idea of confronting him… But the idea of not going back to college left me with a sense of dread.

“Hey ya, sugar.”

I let out a yelp and spun around to see Theo casually leaning on the counter. How long had he been there?

“What’s up?” His question had a cautious tone.

“Cooking,” I muttered, turning my back to him and focusing on pouring the sauce into the pan that I had already layered with pasta, meat, and cheese. Heat stained my cheeks with just the thought of telling Theo about the kiss.

The weight of his stare on my back was a tangible thing, and I was relieved when his phone sounded. He let it ring longer than he normally would, but then answered and left. Relief slumped my shoulders. I would put this whole thing in a box. The Brent box. It belonged on a shelf with all the other bad memories and mistakes. Tonight, I was going to have dinner with my family: Kat and Theo. But first, I would need to meditate and get calm. All this rumination was getting me absolutely nowhere.

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Meet the Author

Connal Braginsky is a software engineer who lives in San Diego, California. Diagnosed with high functioning autism, Connal sometimes struggles in social situations, but has an inner world that is always incredibly rich. With an insatiable thirst for knowledge about many esoteric things, Connal brings a lot of personal philosophies and interests to writing.

Sean Ian O’Meidhir is a psychologist who lives in San Francisco, California. Sean is a hedonist who believes in living for today, living every day to the fullest, and enjoying as much as possible. They have been gaming since adolescence and have written about and played hundreds of lives, revelling in the chance to take on new personalities, dramas, even disorders.

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Frosty the Snow Dom by Angela Knight #holidayromance #BDSM #darkfantasy @AngelaKnight

Posted on December 19, 2021 by JessicaS

Steaming up the ice…

When ice artist Judith Dane is hired to create a kinky version of Michelangelo’s David, she thinks the ice sculpture is just another Christmas party centerpiece. But when she delivers the work she’s nicknamed “Frosty the Snow Dom” to the BDSM club Valhalla, the party turns out to be a lot stranger than she expects.

When Frosty comes to life just like a certain snowman, she discovers just how hot ice can be. But what happens when the spell breaks?

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Angela Knight

Judith Dane stepped forward to sink the electric chainsaw carefully into the block of ice, sending a fine spray of snow crystals flying. The Stihl E180 vibrated in her grip as she sliced downward in a long, smooth curve, following the outline of muscled male ribs cut into the ice.

The sculpture would serve as the centerpiece of the client’s party the next night. Judith wanted to finish roughing the figure in before she returned it to the walk-in freezer overnight.

She was alone in the dim, cavernous studio, with its racks of power tools, chisels, and drill bits. This close to midnight, the other carvers had gone home. Judith knew she should follow suit, but the compulsion to work on Frosty was too strong to ignore.

She had no idea why she felt so enthralled by the piece she called Frosty the Snow Dom. For one thing, she didn’t have time for an attack of artistic obsession. With Christmas just four days away, IceCellence Ice Sculptures had more work than they knew what to do with. Corporations, hotels, and the wealthy had commissioned another forty-two sculptures for holiday parties between now and New Year’s.

Though she had to admit, this was the first time she’d ever been called upon to re-create Michelangelo’s David as a leather Dom. Valhalla, New York’s newest BDSM club, was hosting a Christmas party.

The mind boggled.

Just think of all the things you could do with a candy cane. Judith grinned. She had to admit, the thought was intriguing. Which is probably a sign I’ve read too many kinky romances.

Chainsaw rumbling, Judith stepped back to study the six-foot rectangle of ice — a pair of three-hundred-pound blocks stacked on top of one another and frozen together. She’d used an electric drill to carve a shallow outline of the figure on the surface of the blocks.

Frosty was going to be her best work yet.

Hefting the chainsaw, Judith stepped in again to deepen the cut she’d just made. A hunk of ice fell, narrowly missing her foot, and she danced as it shattered on the concrete floor. As she released the Stihl’s trigger, the blade automatically stopped whining.

A bloodcurdling scream tore through the sudden silence. Judith jumped, damn near dropping the chainsaw.

“No!” A woman cried in the quavering voice of the elderly. “Leave me alone!”

“I don’t think so, you old bitch,” a man snarled over a chorus of drunken male laughter. “We’re tired of you stinking up the streets.”

Something thudded. There was another pitiful cry. “Stop! Let me go! Help!”

More ugly laughter.

Oh fuck. Fuckety fuck fuck. Judith ran to her wheeled carving station, put down the Stihl, and snatched up her cell phone. Her thumb danced over the screen.

“911,” a cool male voice said. “What’s your emergency?”

“I hear a woman screaming in the alley outside IceCellence Ice Sculptures. Sounds like several men are attacking her.” She rattled off her name and the Brooklyn address.

“We’ll send an officer. Stay inside and don’t unlock your door.”

Outside, the woman screamed again.

“Hurry! It sounds like they’re killing her.” Judith hung up, shaking, as she stared at the fire door that led to the alley behind IceCellence. She hoped the cops hauled ass. Every minute they delayed gave those bastards more time to do God knows what. Would the old woman even be alive by the time they arrived?

Thud. “No! Help!” The last word quavered, a pitifully weak cry.

Judith’s eyes fell on the Stihl lying on her carving station. Nothing’s quite as intimidating as a chainsaw.

“Heeeelppp!” A gasp.

Fuck this. She dropped the cell in a pocket of her hoodie and ran to the pegboard, where a huge roll of extension cord hung. Heaving the coil off the wall, she lugged it back to her station. You couldn’t use a gas-powered chainsaw indoors, so all their equipment was electric. Unfortunately, that meant the machine had to be plugged in.

This is crazy, the voice of sanity protested in the back of her mind. Judith didn’t care. That old lady sounded too damn much like her grandmother. Damned if I’ll stand here and listen to her get the shit beaten out of her.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

New York Times best-selling author Angela Knight has written and published more than sixty novels, novellas, and ebooks, including the Mageverse and Merlin’s Legacy series. With a career spanning more than two decades, Romantic Times Bookclub Magazine has awarded her their Career Achievement award in Paranormal Romance, as well as two Reviewers’ Choice awards for Best Erotic Romance and Best Werewolf Romance.

Angela is currently a writer, editor, and cover artist for Changeling Press LLC. She also teaches online writing courses. Besides her fiction work, Angela’s writing career includes a decade as an award-winning South Carolina newspaper reporter. She lives in South Carolina with her husband, Michael, a thirty-year police veteran and detective with a local police department.

RElease Blitz: How Not to Date a Dragon by Stephanie Burke #LGBTQ #paranormalromance #darkfantasy @FlashyCat @GoIndiMarketing

Posted on December 18, 2021 by JessicaS

Title: How Not to Date a Dragon

Series: How Not To #12

Author: Stephanie Burke

Publisher: Changeling Press

Release Date: December 17, 2021

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 134

Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Bisexual, Multisexual & Pansexual, Elves Dragons & Magical Creatures, Paranormal Romance, Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Magic

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Synopsis

Ulvissar, the solitary black omega dragon, is tired of virgin sacrifices. Who even likes humans that way?

However this sacrifice, Alita, is different. She’s brave, bold, and brash. So he decides he’ll keep her. After a few hundred years and countless women in his horde, he’s ready to finally accept the attentions of the Flame dragon, the long-suffering Nithe.

But when the addition of the latest sacrifice brings an army to his doorstep, how is he to keep his hard-won peace, deal with his heat and his hungry mate, and help asexual Alita romance the troublesome princess running from her joke of a prince, all while defending them all from the armies coming to get his woman back?

And you thought dating was hard.

Excerpt

“Oh Noble Dragon,” the rather beautiful and totally virginal maiden whimpered, her hands bound above her body, her head hanging low. “Dost thou consent to sup upon mine supple and untouched flesh as a sacrifice to save mine humble village?” Her fear was obvious in the trembling of her body, exposed to the elements and the cold spring night. There were tears, he could hear them in her voice, in the way it trembled and the ritual words wavered. The air of hopelessness and despair that surrounded her was a palatable thing.

And the mighty dragon hovered above her, his fierce red eyes and black shadowy scales that made him appear to have parted from the night sky itself… before he let out an annoyed snort and rolled his eyes at his victim.

“Really, when are they going to stop this shit?” he asked, startling a gasp from the bound sacrifice as her head jerked up, her amazed eyes widening as she stared at the monster who was supposed to consume her flesh, grind her bones into meal, and ignore her humble village for another year.

“Oh, Noble One? Uh… excuse me?”

“When are your people,” the great one spat out, “going to catch a clue and leave me the fuck out of their medieval fantasies? How much torture porn can one village aspire to? I mean, do they draw lots for this shit? Do you all volunteer? Were you an orphan that no one wanted to take care of? What gives?”

“Uh… Dragon?”

But the great and noble dragon was pissed, really wanted to vent, and nothing was going to stop him from having his say.

“Are all humans so stupid?” he demanded as he began to pace, all twenty-five-foot-tall scaly body and bad attitude. “I send a girl back and they kill her for not” — he actually made air quotes with two of his four large taloned fingers –”being a good sacrifice. I go and try to talk to them about this shit and they scream and run like I was burning the place down and they send me even more virginal girls. I don’t take the first sacrifice and they murder the poor child and leave another sitting in her blood and brains. Do you know how long it takes to get the smell of blood out of your nose? No? I bet you don’t because they would never kill a woman on your behalf. That is a sacrificial action saved just for me.”

His large spaded tail whipped back and forth as he grumbled, staring down at the village from the so-called Dragon Stones that the villagers set up centuries before when they moved into his territory and decided to stay. Of course, when moving into dragon lands you had to have a proper sacrifice. That was the way of it, but it was what they chose to send as a sacrifice that was really pissing him off.

“All I wanted was some seeds to plant new crops and that somehow translated into virgin. How much of an idiot do you have to be to make that incredibly wrong leap of logic? I wanted crops and I got virgins. I would have accepted some livestock instead — cows only last for so long and I really like cheese. But no, the village assholes in all their great glory send me virgin females. I don’t want virgin females. I want the peace of mind knowing that not another girl will be murdered on my behalf.”

“Uh… Dragon?”

“I want some fucking peace!” he roared, the sound echoing through the valley below where the town sat protected from the dangers of the outside world. He could see the lights flicker as terrified townsfolk hid themselves, probably pissing themselves because they thought the sacrifice was unworthy.

“Hey, Dragon?” the sacrifice called, gaining his attention as he stopped pacing a rut into the ground and stared down at her.

“What?”

“If you aren’t going to eat me, perhaps you could let me go? My arms have gone to sleep and I really have to pee.”

He glared down at her and she stared back, the fear that had earlier surrounded her dissipating, almost as if it didn’t exist in the first place. That was… new. He arched an eyebrow and she arched one back.

“I really have to go,” she spoke again, staring right into his red eyes. “And if you think the smell of blood is bad, I have to tell you the smell of urine trumps that every time. I know. I’m a farmer’s daughter. So if you would…” she jerked her head toward the bindings that held her arms aloft. “I can just slip behind those rocks over there and do my business and be right back for the rest of your tirade. I don’t think I can hold it for much longer. I made sure to drink lots before they dragged me up here. If you were going to eat me, I was going to give you a memorable meal surprise. But since you don’t seem intent on consuming my supple virgin flesh…”

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Meet the Author

Stephanie is a USA Today Best Selling, multi published, multi award-winning author, Master Costumer, handicapped, wife and mother of two.

From sex-shifting, shape-shifting dragons to undersea worlds, sexually confused elemental Fey and homo-erotic mysteries, all the way to pastel-challenged urban sprites, Stephanie has done it all, and hopes to do more.

Stephanie is an orator on her favorite subjects of writing and world-building, a sometime teacher when you feed her enough tea and donuts, an anime nut, a costumer, and a frequent guest of various sci-fi and writing cons where she can be found leading panel discussions or researching varied legends and theories to improve her writing skills.

Stephanie is known for her love of the outrageous, strong female characters, believable worlds, male characters filled with depth, and multi-cultural stories that make the reader sit up and take notice.

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Release Blitz: Howling for More by Bailey Bradford #eroticromance #gay #wereshifters @pridepublishing @firstforromance

Posted on December 15, 2021 by JessicaS

Howling for More by Bailey Bradford

Book 1 in the Triple Threat series

General Release Date: 14th December 2021

Word Count: 37,200
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 168

Genres:

CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
MÉNAGE AND MULTIPLE PARTNERS
PARANORMAL
WERESHIFTERS

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Book Description

What happens when the wolf is unleashed?

Bowen’s used to life as a lone wolf. He has the occasional hook-up, but rarely with the same man twice. Chiz is an exception to his rule, and one night’s adventure that neither of them expected forces Bowen to see Chiz as more than just a pretty sub he can scratch his itch for rough sex with.

Chiz has his own rules for getting off with guys. His secret crush on Bowen was supposed to remain just that—a secret—until the one night that changes everything, and hiding things is impossible.

Then there’s Dare, the big tough bar owner who has questions for Bowen and Chiz and whose attraction to them is too strong to resist…and is just as powerful as the feelings Bowen and Chiz have for him.

But giving in to the overpowering sexual pull makes Bowen lose control of his wolf—an act that changes not only his fate but Chiz’s and Dare’s too.

Can their relationship survive what they unleash?

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of violence and death, references to non-nurturing parenting and a scene of turning into a shifter without prior discussion.

Publisher’s note: This book was originally published as Bowen’s Battle. It has been revised to become the first in a new shifter series for Pride Publishing.

Excerpt

Sex. The scent of it hung heavy in the air of the club’s restroom—which was probably a good thing. Bowen sighed as he leaned against one wall, nearly bumping elbows with the guy on the left of him.

Kneeling at Bowen’s feet was Chiz, one of his occasional hook-ups when neither man had someone else to fuck around with.

Bowen had been in a dry spell for a few months. Work on the ranch had taken up all his time, the birthing of the foals and caring for the horses more important than his own libido.

But tonight, he needed to get off with someone else rather than all alone, and Chiz obviously felt the same way.

Chiz opened his mouth and sucked the tip of Bowen’s cockhead in while looking up at Bowen through thick blond-tipped lashes. Chiz flicked his tongue, and Bowen bit back a moan. He wasn’t going to last long tonight, not after how long it had been for him, and now with Chiz’s very talented mouth working his dick.

Bowen braced one hand on Chiz’s shoulder, the other on the wall and began to thrust, knowing it was okay to do so. Chiz’s lashes fluttered, then he closed his eyes and sucked Bowen off with an enthusiasm that likely made every other man getting sucked off in the bathroom jealous.

Bowen clenched both hands, wishing he could just grab Chiz’s blond hair and use it to hold his head still. Bowen liked wielding control while having sex, but it wasn’t something he did often. Certainly not with one-night stands.

Though, he had messed around with Chiz a handful of times, at least.

Still, they weren’t friends, just two guys getting off together.

But would it hurt to—

Bowen shut off that stream of thought. Now was neither the time nor place for him to decide to get all…whatever. He hissed as pleasure raced throughout his body. His balls drew tight, and his groin burned with the beginnings of his climax.

Chiz deep-throated him again, and that was it. Bowen let go, let his orgasm burst free and shoot in hot jets down Chiz’s throat.

“I think we’re gonna have us a turn at that mouth and ass.”

Bowen’s eyes had almost closed when he heard that comment. He slipped his hand from Chiz’s shoulder to his nape, the automatic need to protect rising quickly and stomping out any lingering sexual bliss.

The bathroom had grown less crowded—except for the three men standing in a half-circle, blocking off the exit.

Bowen growled and didn’t give two shits about his own cock flopping free as he tightened his clasp on Chiz. “Whatever you dumb fucks are thinking, unthink it. You ain’t touching him.”

The biggest man, a grizzled, ugly guy who looked like he needed a shower or three, smirked at Bowen. “And who says we was talking about him?”

Well, Bowen would rather avoid a fight altogether, but if those three shitheels were going to be coming after either him or Chiz, Bowen would rather be the target.

“Aw, Earl! That guy can suck dick!”

“Shut up, Killer.” Earl didn’t look away from Bowen.

“Killer?” Chiz muttered against Bowen’s shaft. “Seriously?” He tried to turn his head.

Bowen’s fight instincts were engaging. He had a feeling there’d be no easy-outs tonight.

And his daddy had always told him to get in the first punch.

The scent of danger was in the air, and Bowen couldn’t ignore it, not that he would have tried. Instincts existed for a reason, or at least his did.

In a second, he had Chiz behind him and was lunging at Earl, the leader of the pack of idiots. Bowen managed to get his dick tucked into his underwear while swinging hard with his left hand.

He was fast, too fast for a burly, out-of-shape man like Earl to escape. His fist connecting with Earl’s jaw felt pretty damned good.

Sex and violence…the two were linked sometimes. Bowen wouldn’t examine that very closely, not if he could help it.

Earl’s head jerked to the side. Blood and spit flew from his mouth as all hell broke loose in the restroom.

And maybe Bowen should have thought out his attack a little better, because Earl didn’t go down, and his two buddies shot past Bowen.

He had to protect Chiz—Chiz was small-boned, almost delicately built, and all three men were…none of those things.

Bowen kicked Earl in the balls, and the big fool went down with a high-pitched screech. Bowen spun around and grabbed both men by the backs of their shirts. He pulled and ripped the material, then had to grab at them again.

One of them—Killer, he thought—went flying backward. The other, Bowen clutched at, spun around then punched in the gut.

Bowen caught a flash of Chiz shooting up and lunging away. At first, Bowen thought Chiz was running for the door.

But no. Killer was flung against the wall beside the man Bowen was trying to take down.

Chiz was there, moving so fast with punches and martial arts moves that Bowen couldn’t keep up with what he was doing.

Especially not when Bowen nearly got kneed in the balls.

He focused on the fight he was in, avoiding damage to his family jewels, taking a hard slug to the ribs, then elbowing his opponent in the gut before using an uppercut to finally take the fucker out.

By then, Chiz was standing, hands on his slender hips, tapping one foot.

Bowen looked at him head-on.

Chiz nodded. “Wasn’t sure if you’d need help.”

Bowen almost laughed at that. He’d held back a lot of his strength since he didn’t want to end up in prison for murder.

Chiz scowled at him. “I can take care of myself. I’m not some delicate flower, here.”

“Yeah, I get that, but maybe we should leave before these fuckwits regain consciousness?” Bowen suggested. His knuckles burned, the skin raw and abraded, but it’d be healed up in no time at all.

“Probably.” Chiz wrinkled his nose as he glanced at the men. “Ugh. I hope they aren’t thinking they’ll be regulars here.” Then he canted his head and grinned at Bowen. “And I didn’t get to come. I’m pretty sure you’re not a psycho-serial killer, so, um, if you want to go back to my place, we could do that.”

Bowen’s first impulse was to say no, but he checked it. First things first—he and Chiz needed to get out of there.

“Come on.” Bowen took Chiz by the elbow.

“Not a delicate flower,” Chiz muttered, but he didn’t pull away.

“Nah, you kicked ass. What were you doing?” Bowen asked as he led Chiz out of the restroom.

“Fighting,” Chiz replied. “Duh.”

Bowen cut him a narrow look. “Anyone ever spanked you?”

“I refuse to answer that,” Chiz drawled, “on account of I’d have to explain where the bodies were. Hypothetically, of course.”

That startled a laugh out of Bowen. “Is that so? ’Cause I think you’d like it.”

“Right. The younger, delicate little twink—”

“You got a hang-up over that delicate part,” Bowen observed, interrupting Chiz while opening the restroom door. “Don’t ya?”

Chiz sniffed and pulled his arm free. “Do not.”

Bowen laughed again. How was it he hadn’t known Chiz was so feisty?

’Cause all I’ve ever seen him as is a way to get off. Wow. I’m an asshole. Though, to be fair, I don’t think Chiz’s seen me any differently.

The club was still packed, but several people looked their way when Bowen and Chiz left the restroom. Bowen’s anger sparked. “Those fuckin’ assholes watching us knew we were gonna be jumped.”

“Probably,” Chiz agreed. “A pox on all of them. May their urethras be inflamed and burn with the stings of a thousand wasps.”

“Fuck.” That made Bowen’s dick ache.

Chiz grinned. “I could flip them off, if you want to fight some more?”

“Rather not.” Bowen’s pulse escalated, not at the idea of fighting, but at the mischievous way Chiz was acting. He was interesting, not just attractive.

Chiz shrugged. “Okay, your call. You wanna come back to mine? I’d like to get off a few times tonight.”

Oh damn! A few times? How stupid had Bowen been, not chatting with Chiz more until now?

“Yeah, let’s do that.” Bowen licked his suddenly dry lips. He’d just come not five minutes ago, and he was already close to getting hard again.

Chiz winked at him. “Cool. Maybe I’ll let you slap my ass a time or two.”

That was a gauntlet thrown down. Bowen ghosted a hand over Chiz’s ass. “Maybe I’ll let you beg me to.”

Chiz narrowed his eyes at Bowen. “Beg you to?”

But Chiz’s pulse sped up. Bowen could see it fluttering at the base of his neck and he noted the flare of Chiz’s nostrils and the beginning of an erection pressing against the fly of his pants.

“What the hell’s going on?” roared someone from the back of the club. Literally, Bowen thought, from the back, where there might be offices or something. He didn’t know. He just came there to get laid and wasn’t buddies with anyone.

“Seems like a good time to split,” Chiz said. He grasped Bowen’s hand. “Because that sounds like one pissed-off man, and I’ve heard stories about the guy who owns this place.”

“Oh?” Bowen was curious, but Chiz tugged, and Bowen followed.

“Yup, and you don’t want to fight any more tonight, right?”

“Right.” Bowen would much rather fuck, and Chiz was…interesting.

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About the Author

Bailey Bradford

A native Texan, Bailey spends her days spinning stories around in her head, which has contributed to more than one incident of tripping over her own feet. Evenings are reserved for pounding away at the keyboard, as are early morning hours. Sleep? Doesn’t happen much. Writing is too much fun, and there are too many characters bouncing about, tapping on Bailey’s brain demanding to be let out.

Caffeine and chocolate are permanent fixtures in Bailey’s office and are never far from hand at any given time. Removing either of those necessities from Bailey’s presence can result in what is known as A Very, Very Scary Bailey and is not advised under any circumstances.

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BOOK REVIEW: The Orc’s Wife by Layla Fae #orcs #fantasyromance #bookreview #laylafae

Posted on December 13, 2021 by JessicaS

I did it. I’m in the orc capital… only not as I imagined. For one, I am mated to the formidable orc general whom everyone fears. And two, the orc Imperator is secretly planning my mate’s death.

With strong, bloodthirsty Urgan by my side I am not afraid… until he locks me up in his dungeon and forbids me to leave while he’s preparing a military coup. It’s for my safety, he says. But I don’t feel particularly safe in the palace crawling with orcs, with the orc princess Urzulah trying to rip me apart so she can have my mate for herself.

Urgan doesn’t take it well when I defy him. A rift grows between us, and when it seems that our bond hasn’t been fated, after all, he rejects me publicly.
And now, I can’t even tell him I’m pregnant

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MY REVIEW – 4 stars

If you haven’t read the first book, go download it now. You’ll need to read it in order to enjoy this one fully.

The beginning to book two was a lot slower than book one, with little action or dialogue. It took me about a chapter to really dig in and immerse myself in the story.

Una was bold, brave, and devious in the first book. In this next installment, she seems to have lost herself a bit. She’s suddenly listening to anyone who’s ever said she’s weak and worthless. Where she’d tried not to show fear previously, she’s now scared. It wasn’t until about halfway through that she seemed to remember who she was.

Urgan has grown softer since taking a mate, but we saw those changes beginning of the previous book. The most dramatic thing Urgan does is immediately explained, which for me dropped the impact quite a bit. I was prepared to hate him and was ready for some much needed angst and drama. Then his actions are explained and… well, I wasn’t sure how to feel.

There’s fighting, torture, kidnapping, steamy scenes between Urgan and Una, and a grandmother who nearly stole the show. I seriously love Orianna. She’s brash, not shy to voice her opinions, and has the attitude to back it up.

The ending of the book was wonderful. A happily ever after of sorts, with a promise for more adventure in another book. I loved the way the orcs and humans pulled together to defeat a common enemy. But mostly I loved Una and Urgan as a couple. They’re perfect for one another.

The Orc’s Wife is a fast-paced, action-packed, steamy read that will leave you wanting more.

*Disclaimer: I received a free copy of this book via Booksprout and am voluntarily leaving a review. The review above is only my opinion.