SERIES NOW COMPLETE! The Filthy Fairy Tales Series is available now + FREE to read in Kindle Unlimited!
Once Upon A Time… a coven of romance authors cast a spell on your favorite fairy tales.
You’ve met the Monsters Between the Sheets in Screaming Woods, now meet the enchanted townsfolk in the neighboring Fable Forest, where love and magic collide. Thieves and witches and creatures that fly. Wolves and demons and bears… oh my!
Your favorite childhood fairy tales… only dirtier!
Meela must marry a prince from another planet in order to ensure the
security of her people. Trouble is Meela’s known to be a bit feisty, and
sometimes that gets her into trouble. It’s bad enough she has no say in who
she’ll marry. Worse still, the queen places an obedience curse on Meela to
thwart her errant ways.
As a result of the curse, Meela finds herself in plenty of predicaments not
exactly fit for a princess. But what’s a princess to do when two gorgeous
hunks come along and place sensual demands on her Meela’s not sure she can
— or even wants to — deny?
EXCERPT
Meela stared into the flowing red river before kneeling on the grassy bank
to sulk. The red colored water rushing by her looked like blood. There were
so many red rivers on the planet that they’d looked like veins on its
surface to Meela when the star cruiser she’d traveled in approached it
earlier.
Now that she was here, she wished that someone had told her to throw
herself in the river. Her nurse had only told her to take a walk to calm her
mind. It was a rare freedom for Meela. Probably her last.
Today was the day Meela had been preparing for her whole life. Later today
she would be presented to the queen of this planet along with two other
princesses from neighboring planets. The queen would then allow her sons to
each choose the girl he wanted for his bride beginning with her oldest son,
her heir.
It wasn’t that Meela minded the arranged marriage. She was a princess after
all and her duty was to her people. Her marriage to a Prince of Nelot, the
strongest planet with the most powerful army in the system, would ensure the
protection of her people. She’d been promised in marriage since her birth
and all of her teachings were in preparation for fulfilling this
obligation.
Meela accepted that.
But when she was sixteen, the Queen of Nelot, a sorceress she was to find
out, paid a visit to Meela and her family on their home planet, Bano. She
wanted to meet Meela, considering one day she would be the bride of one of
her sons.
The queen was pleased with Meela. A little too pleased in fact. She
explained to Meela’s parents that their daughter was indeed beautiful,
cultured and intelligent — befitting a Princess of Nelot. But she felt
those very virtues put Meela in danger from others and from herself until
the wedding, so she placed an enchantment upon Meela. From that day forward,
Meela would be obedient, would do whatever she was told, until her future
husband arranged her release from the spell.
Her life had been misery ever since.
At first, Meela and her family didn’t realize just what curse had been
bestowed upon her. A few nights later Meela became angry at her father for
not allowing her some privilege. She sat complaining in her rooms while her
nurse brushed her hair. Finally her frustrated nurse told her to hold her
tongue.
It had taken several hours for the entire family to discover that someone
had to tell Meela to let go of her tongue before she could pry her fingers
away.
It got worse. While her parents enjoyed their new power over Meela, the
power to make her work at her studies longer and attend royal functions in
their places, soon they learned there was a danger to the curse. Once, one
of Meela’s friends at court had dared her to kiss the handsome visiting
ambassador from the planet Dalu. Unable to stop herself, she’d walked right
up to the man and kissed him full on the mouth.
Her parents had been so alarmed by the turn of events that she was placed
under the strictest watch until the time of her wedding. No more fun outings
with her friends. No more boring royal functions even. Meela was only
allowed to attend the most important celebrations on her planet, and then
only for a short time with at least a dozen people watching her every
movement. They might as well have locked her away in a prison.
Perhaps that is what the Queen of Nelot had intended when she’d placed the
enchantment on her.
Years passed while the Princes of Nelot fought off one legion of intruders
to their system after another, the stories of their glorious victories
painting them as great warriors. By the time the Queen of Nelot sent for
Meela for the bridal selection and subsequent wedding, she was twenty-seven,
going out of her mind with boredom, and had taken to finding creative ways
of watching the private activities of guests to the palace. It was as close
as she had ever come to having sex after all.
And now that she was here on Nelot, ready to be selected by one of the
queen’s sons and do her duty for her parents and her people, she was pretty
damned unhappy. Wasn’t it enough of a sacrifice to have the person she’d
spend her life with, share a bed with and have children for, chosen for her?
Then to have the hateful curse of obedience placed on her, robbing her of
her last years of freedom?
Meela no longer wanted to marry any son of the woman who had done this to
her. Meela didn’t even want to meet the princes.
“It’s not fair,” Meela grumbled at her reflection far below in
the red water.
“What’s not fair?”
That deep male voice alerted her to the fact that she was no longer alone.
With as much composure as she could muster, Meela turned her head slowly.
She was unescorted, without any of her attendants who understood her
enchantment, for the first time since she had kissed the ambassador at
court. The pace of her heartbeat grew along with her anxiety.
“That I can’t stay and enjoy this beautiful view,” Meela said in
her best royal voice with her practiced princess smile.
Yet she forgot all about how she was to speak or smile as she gazed at the
two men standing before her, their dress indicating that they were common
soldiers of the planet. They looked very much alike, both tall men with
bodies of steel, the snug black uniforms they wore revealing that they were
all hard, firm muscles.
About the Author
Isabella Jordan is the alter ego of an otherwise stressed out web designer,
programmer, and internet junkie. When she’s not trying to perfect her own
personal caffeine IV drip, she enjoys spending time with her family, doing
volunteer work, and writing. She loves creating new stories of all kinds and
chatting with readers and friends.
The Accidental Seraph Maci Aurora (Carran Hollow Fated Mate, #1) Publication date: June 25th 2024 Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Paranormal, Romance
When Atlas Black, a bad boy with a reputation in Carran Hollow, walks into The Hole-in-the-Wall bar investigating a demon sighting, it’s mostly business as usual until he comes face-to-face with his calix—his fated-mate. Except Ivy Day, oblivious to the world of seraphs and demons, thinks she’s stranded in Carran Hollow because a stupid bus has broken down. She just needs a ride to get to the next bus in order to get to her sister across the country. While the guy in the bar hitting on her is hotter than any human has the right to be, unless he’ll give her a lift, she doesn’t have any patience for anything else. But little does she know, Atlas is about to take her on the ride of her life—that is, as long as they can get through the demons.
Maci Aurora has been writing stories since she was a child. When she was eleven, she fell in love with reading Sunfire Historical Romances about girls who made a difference in their lives and still fell in love. In high school, a friend introduced her to Lavyrle Spencer and Judith McNaught, and from there, her writing journey was cemented in telling stories about love. Having already published many novels (all of which are threaded with romance as upper YA and New Adult titles) under the pen name, CL Walters, Maci Aurora wanted to write stories that offered the same attention to story and characters but with additional steam.
Maci writes in Hawaiʻi where she lives with her husband, their children, and their fur-babies.
Today, we have author AK Nevermore joining us at Books+Coffee=Happiness. She’s going to share a little about her book, Grimdarke, and answer some interview questions… Are you ready to learn more about Ms. Nevermore?
Let’s dive in, shall we?
Q:How long have you been writing, and how long did it take before your first book was published? AK: I’ve been writing quote unquote “Seriously” for about seven years… and it took me a little over six of those to publish my first book.
Q: What is the most challenging part of writing a book? AK: I think each book has its own unique set of challenges. For my Mayhem books, it’s fitting everything I want into a novella length format. For my Price of Talent series, it’s juggling points of view. And for the Dae Diaries, that’s working with a single point of view. Anthologies are a whole ‘nother can of worms.
Q: When you’re writing, what comes first for you – the plot or the characters? AK: Neither. It’s usually just a scene or a concept and I build off of that. My most recent manuscript was born from a visual of a woman taking a smoke break in an alley. The next Mayhem book is going to be built around my main character chucking a manhole cover into Fae.
Q: What inspired the idea for your book – Grimdarke? AK: It had been a concept that was kicking around in the back of my brain that I hadn’t really given too much attention to, I was busy with other projects. But then I got the opportunity to write for a digital publisher and they asked me if I had any ideas. I was like, um… yes? So my motorcycle club of cat shifters was more born out of necessity than inspiration.
Readers love getting to know more about authors, so we’re going to take a slightly more personal detour…
Q: If you could pick your top 3 favorite books of all time, what would they be? AK: I read really eclectically, so bear with me, but my top three are probably The Mists of Avalon, A Clockwork Orange, and The Big Sleep.
Q: Do you have any hobbies? If so, can you tell us about them? AK: Yeah, I love rehabbing antiques, I’m a certified chef and I was really into beekeeping at one point. That is definitely something I’d love to start up again. It got super crazy, and we were at the point we needed to seriously consider putting in a bee yard. Bears are nuts around here so it’s not like we can just have boxes.
Q: What’s your favorite movie genre? Do you have an all-time favorite movie? AK: I love fantasy, sci-fi, and dumb comedy. I don’t know if I have a favorite, but it probably has Christopher Walken in it if I do.
Q: If there was one thing you could say to your readers, what would it be? AK: Thank you. There are so many great books out there, I’m really honored that you’ve chosen to read mine. I hope they made you laugh or let you escape for a little while!
Thanks for joining us at Books+Coffee=Happiness! It was a pleasure to have you on the blog today!
Readers… want to know more about Ms. Nevermore’s book, Grimdarke? Keep reading…
Title: Grimdarke
Series: The Maw of Mayhem MC
Genre(s): Paranormal Motorcycle Club Romantic Erotica
Release Date: Feb 2, 2024
Book Description:
Out of options and on the run after her psychotic father’s released from prison, Kit Parson heads to the only place she might be safe from him, the Maw of Mayhem MC. The unexpected move buys her time, but also puts her at risk. Surrounded by shifters, her inner cat begs to be released, and after witnessing a brutal attack on her mother as a child, she refuses to let the monster out. Totally doable, provided no bodily fluids are ever exchanged.
That takes the MC’s hot-as-hell VP, Grimdarke James, officially off the table. Mourning the recent murder of the club’s alpha and struggling to control his inner cat, the tattooed Viking god is on thin ice. If he goes feral again, he’ll be put down. Which makes his cat’s insistence that Kit belongs to him problematic, upsetting the delicate balance of the MC’s internal politics, and the woman blackmailing Grim.
But when Kit’s father catches up with her, Grim has no choice but to trust his cat, and Kit can’t deny their chemistry. Can they hold on to each other when everything is trying to tear them apart? After a gruesome triple murder propels them deeper into the paranormal world, they find themselves with unlikely allies, even as their enemies threaten to destroy everything they hold dear.
Excerpt:
“Mind if I join?”
She glanced over, then away, all dismissive.
Yeah, she remembered him. Challenge accepted, baby.
A scarf held back hair so dark it shone blue where the light hit it, and those almond eyes — Okay, those were pretty much telling him to fuck off, but he could smell the lie. She was into him. He grinned, fingering the memory of her fist hitting his jaw, and she flipped a long ebony lock over her shoulder.
— want —
Yes, we do… Damn, what the fuck did MK have the heat set at in here? Grim pushed up the sleeves of his Henley, and she snuck another peek at him. Her gaze trailed the tattoos spiraling from his knuckles to his forearms, then jumped to the ink at his open collar, following it up his throat —
Eyes whiskey-dark caught his, her pupils blowing wide just like that night. He palmed across the growing wet spot on his thigh, nostrils flaring at the punch of her arousal in the air. Mmm. Yeah. That’s what I’m talking about… Grim stretched a leg behind her stool, juddering it closer.
“Hey! You mind?” She pulled away, wobbling. He shot out a hand to steady her, and she bit back a gasp at his touch. Fuck, she was just a little thing under that damned hoodie.
”.Careful“ He grinned, releasing her to pour another. “I’m Grim. Didn’t expect you to follow me home. You stalking me, baby?”
Her eyes widened comically. “What? I — no… No! God, are you serious?” She shook her head, clearly flustered and pissed off about it, those lush lips of hers flattening to match her glare. “What kind of a name is Grim?”
A shitty one. He shrugged. “I’d ask my mama, but she’s thirty-two years dead. And you are?”
Color bloomed over cheeks and she winced. “Kit — I mean, Katherine. And my stool was fine where it was.”
Goddamn, she was fucking adorable on top of gorgeous. “Mmm. I like you close. Wouldn’t want you to cut out on me again.”
She snorted like she was daring him to stop her if she tried.
AK Nevermore enjoys operating heavy machinery, freebases coffee, and gives up sarcasm for Lent every year. A Jane-of-all-trades, she’s a certified chef, restores antiques, and dabbles in beekeeping when she’s not reading voraciously or running down the dream in her beat-up camo Chucks.
Unable to ignore the voices in her head, and unwilling to become medicated, she writes Science Fiction and Fantasy full time.
AK pays the bills writing a copious amount of copy, along with a column on SFF. She belongs to the Authors Guild, is an RWA chapter board member, volunteers for far too many committees, teaches creative writing, and on the rare occasion, sleeps.
Youltan lives a life of obligation and service, a slave to the desires of
others, harnessing the strange and powerful chaotic energies known as Ice
Magic. After a final betrayal by the people he protects, he finds himself
transported to the one being who holds the key to his freedom.
The wards tattooed across Garyn’s back ensure his total compliance,
trapping him in his own form of slavery, until one of the traitorous Mages,
the kind that devised this tortuous penance, is placed in his prison. Now
manipulating his way to freedom rules the sex-shifting dragon’s mind.
Garyn never expects Youltan to willingly sacrifice so much for a person he
barely knows. Nor does he expect to find the a core of passionate heat that
exists deep within Youltan’s soul. The fight for survival takes on new
dimensions and strains the very threads of their honor and morality.
But what would you expect….when you prod a Sleeping Dragon?
EXCERPT
Feet braced apart, arms extended to their maximum length, he stood and
waited. There was nothing in his mind; his world was a blank slate, waiting
to be filled, waiting for the agonizing pleasure… and the horrific
pain.
Slowly, it began, drawing its energy from the very earth on which he stood.
Pulsing writhing ropes of energy, of magic, of power, twined around
themselves as they sought a rod, a bearer for their might.
Around his ankles they looped, slowly, like some starving creature seeking
sustenance. And what they found seemed to please them, for they began to
roll up the length of his body. Faster and faster they twined, their colors
the brilliant blue that exists in the heart of every fire, the icy white of
the coldest glacier, a sharp glaze of power blinding all who dared watch
this spectacle.
Up around his knees they crept, gaining confidence and speed with every
second. On and on, around his waist, over his chest, across his shoulders
until his head jerked back as if snapped by some unknown entity.
Blood-red lips parted, a scream locked within a frozen throat, and a fall
of silver white hair blew madly around his form in a wind created by power
and magic. Bright lavender eyes snapped open to reveal luminescent sparks of
pure white that illuminated those strange orbs, the eyes of an alien-one,
and the eyes of the demented.
Then the power seemed to lash out at its conduit, raising him to his toes
as wave after wave of pure energy penetrated his body, gained a purpose,
grew in its strength.
His body arched, his arms flying above his head as the sheer strength of
the thing that possessed him brought him to his toes, building and building
until his whole person was one shining, glowing being that seemed almost too
beautiful to view, yet too sinister and compelling to look away from.
Suddenly, a cry erupted from his throat, loud, agonized. The cry echoed
over the land as the very earth began to quake beneath his feet.
His piercing scream startled the onlookers, the curious who had gathered to
view this unusual feat, to watch what both heaven and hell had wrought and
then left to travel this land that they called their own.
But they were too stunned to look away, transfixed.
As he continued to scream, cry after cry of ecstatic pain, the energy that
converged on his body began to coagulate, to meld into one large beam of
power.
Still screaming, he forced his arms toward the pulsing dome that surrounded
the land, the thing that honor and history demanded he tend to, no matter
the cost.
His sudden silence was almost as unnerving as his screams had been, as the
world seemed to hold its breath in anticipation, as the tension built around
the young man, as the very gods seemed to tremble in fear.
Then, as the tension built to a plateau, then nothing. Soon the people
began to breathe easy, thinking the show was over, then one final
high-pitched scream exploded from his mouth.
And with that cry, a monstrous beam of light and power leapt from his body.
Blue, silver, white, it all mended and swirled as warring colors shot from
his body, his eyes, his mouth, following its given path, striking the
shields with an audible crash that almost sounded like the shrieking cry of
pure crystal shattering.
His body gave way in the face of such a massive energy burst, but the power
would not let his body fall. It supported him, swirled around him almost
lovingly, then began to drain the very life force from his body.
Head tossed back to its farthest, hair whipping around that face, obscuring
its near beauty from the frightened yet silent watchers, his body bowed and
his knees bent as he fought to retain some of himself from the hungry
energies that sought to leach his very essence from his body.
Trembling and panting, he whimpered once as the beam began to lose its
brilliant illumination, then faded altogether, growing weaker and weaker as
the conduit struggled to reclaim part of himself from the massive outpouring
of power.
Then, suddenly, almost as if it had never been, the beam of light
dispersed, exploded into a million glittering sparkles, before disappearing
cleanly from sight.
With a groan, the conduit dropped to his knees, his body falling backwards
as all the energy seemed to leave with the passing of the beam.
He knelt there, supple body bent backwards, breath struggling in his chest,
as his strange, lavender eyes drifted shut.
Then, as he took his first full breath, the watchers were amazed to see a
shadowy mist exhaled into the brilliant heat of the day, a breath that
seemed as cold as the arctic islands they once harnessed to create that
shield that protected them from the evils of the outside world.
Then his whole body began to spasm.
About 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.
Balen “Creature” Hobbs doesn’t call anywhere home. He’s been a nomad since the day he finished active duty. Fate has other plans when he bumps into a girl beaten outside a local bar. Being a good Samaritan didn’t cross his mind—only justice.
Getting involved pulls him into a dark world where the strong prey on the weak. Riding with the Royal Bastards MC offers him a chance he can’t refuse. When he stops a cutthroat criminal from hurting more innocents, everything seems to fall into place. Creature has finally found a place where he belongs, and his unique talents are appreciated. Meeting Blair Connelly and falling in love is almost too good to be true. For the first time since the war ended, he feels peace.
But when a familiar enemy threatens the club, he doesn’t hesitate to protect the RBMC. Even if it means he has to risk everything to ensure justice is served. A Shadow Rider and a scarred veteran are the only chance Blair has to survive. It’s not a choice of his club or his woman. He’s saving both. Creature is ridin’ full throttle and ready for war.
Nikki Landis is a romance enthusiast, tea addict, and book hoarder. She’s the USA Today Bestselling Author of over fifty novels, including her widely popular Tonopah, NV RBMC series. She writes wickedly fierce, spicy romances featuring dirty talkin’ bikers, deadly, possessive reapers, wild bad boys, and the feisty, independent women they love. She’s a mom to six sons, two of them Marines. Books are her favorite escape.
So much for sanctuary. Kit Parson doesn’t feel any safer than she was
before she first stepped into the Maw of Mayhem, and things are going from
bad to worse. Something big is definitely going down in the paranormal
community… and inside Kit. Now that her inner beast has awoken, all
it wants is out. The only thing Kit wants is Grim, but he’s got issues
of his own.
Fingered for a crime he didn’t commit and injured by the
witch’s spell, his cat Darke has control of their form. He
doesn’t play well with others, and tensions with the crew are at an
all-time high.
With the witches’ elite assassins on their trail, can Darke and the
crew put aside their differences to keep Kit safe and get back to the MC?
And as the clock ticks toward the vote with Grim’s reputation in
shambles, will there be an MC to go back to?
EXCERPT
Shades of the past tore through the consciousness Darke shared with his
man, threatening to swallow Grim whole. He fought against their poisoned
bite, but the witch’s spell had weakened the big cat’s
skin-brother and freed the memories from their fetters. They lashed at Grim
with inky black tentacles of torment. His agonized screams rose within the
crescendoing squall, raging through their split psyche. A growl welled in
Darke’s chest, ruff bristling at their assault.
— Mine! — he snarled, lunging into the fray. Sharp claws and teeth rent
the shadowed memories of the bad time from his man, scattering them back
into the depths of their mind. Grim was his. Him. A self separate, yet one.
His skin-brother. Darke nuzzled him close, tongue rasping over Grim’s
flickering light.
— heal —
Kit… his man whimpered, curling into a ball. His light dimmed,
giving up control of their form to the big cat.
— ours — Darke rumbled, shifting their body and sending Grim what
strength he could. Fur sprouted, limbs cracking and reforming. Two legs
became four, and a tawny gray mountain lion lay sprawled on the bed where
the others had lain his man to recover.
Within, his skin-brother’s light strengthened, its low glow holding
steady.
Darke ran a paw over his face, licking at his pad. He sneezed at the scent
of old blood, the room thick with the patina of its tang and the decaying
musk of the undead. A low growl rumbled in his chest, his pupils dilating to
take in the room’s blend of muted color.
Heavy furniture dominated the space, its angles stark amidst the gloom.
Tendrils of scent threaded through the room, age and linseed seeping from
the wood to twine with the rest of the civilized rot assaulting his nose. He
pushed off the bed, padding across the thick carpet. His shadow grayed the
fingers of scant moonlight streaming in from long, amber-tinted
windows.
Darke paused, his lip curling over his canines, disdainfully eyeing the
city spread out below him before turning his face to the bulbous moon.
Had Grim’s female changed and released her animal?
Clay’s cat had promised Darke a mate. Teased him with her scent,
captured within the weft of the afghan on Grim’s bed. The desperate
longing it evoked proved the connection. The tip of Darke’s tail
twitched. He’d trusted it would be so. Waited for so long. Too long.
Kit’s scent matched the afghan’s. That meant the beast within
her was his.
Darke chuffed his frustration. Sensing his mate without being able to claim
her was torture. He paced the breadth of the room, eyes narrowed at the
heavy oaken door leading out. Beyond it, faint voices pricked at his ears.
Part of his skin-brother’s pride was near. His crew. Darke growled at
the snippets of the MC’s inner cats’ near-unintelligible
murmuring punctuating the two-legged babble. That he could understand the
crew’s stupid yapping better than his own brethren’s yowls
irked.
A pang of loneliness shot through Darke’s chest. He missed Clay. When
his father’s inner lion had spoken, his deep rumble was clarion. The
lynxes out there? Yowls and hissing. Darke could pick out maybe one hard-won
word in six, and they couldn’t understand him at all. It had been the
same with his littermates, Grapple and Shiv, leaving Darke to rely on
instinct when forced to interact.
It got him into trouble. Lynxes were shady and the two-leggers lied. Said
things they didn’t mean, then hurt you. Clay had been different, but
he was dead while his murderer walked free.
Reaper.
Darke shivered, ears flicking back, remembering the bad time. The man who
called himself their uncle needed to die, and Grapple and Shiv with
him.
Darke’s temper spiked, his tail swishing. Keenly feeling the loss
locked within his mind again, in this stinking place of undead. His
skin-brother shared his sorrow at their father’s murder, but not
Darke’s isolation.
And now Grim had left him, too.
Darke shouldered through another door into a smaller room lined with tile.
It smelled faintly of excrement and strongly of fabricated pine, the water
in the bowl stale and chemical-laced. Darke shook droplets from his maw and
chuffed his distaste, returning to the window.
Soft footfalls approached from the beyond the oaken door.
Darke slunk into the deep shadow of an armoire as the heavy slab canted
open, then closed. Kit limped to the center of the room, favoring a leg. Her
arm was splinted, the opposite hand bandaged in gauze. A ruddy stain marred
its whiteness. She wrapped her damaged limbs around herself with a low sob,
the scent of fresh blood perfuming the air as she moved. Darke’s
nostrils flared at that thread of wrongness twining within the delicate
tendrils of citrus, cinnamon, and female musk.
His mate was presenting as wounded prey.
Darke bit back the growl building in his chest, fury pounding through his
temples. His claws extended and retracted from the carpet’s thick
pile. Healthy, she’d be a tempting prize for any predator.
Injured… He was going to kill —
No. Darke’s ears flattened against his skull. His man would think
before spilling blood.
But Grim thought too much.
Kit scanned the room, then dashed a hand across her face, stumbling to the
bed. Her feet froze at its foot, head snapping toward the bathroom, then
away. Another low sob eked from her throat, and Darke’s ruff stood on
end. He would destroy them. Destroy them all. Starting with those who had
failed to protect —
— Hey! Boy Vengeance! You really just gonna let her think her think
he’s gone? —
Darke jumped, fur bristling at the syrupy censure. He backed deeper into
the shadows, eyes wide and pulse pounding.
— Aww. Here puss, puss, puss… I don’t bite —
His lip curled over a canine, and a female’s mocking laughter flitted
through his mind as clearly as the gravelly chuckle of Clay’s beast
had. Darke’s heart leaped, his ears pricking forward, saliva pooling
in his maw.
He could understand her.
The beast inside Kit, his promised mate — when she spoke, her words were
clear, and she wanted to play.
About the Author
AK Nevermore enjoys operating heavy machinery, freebases coffee, and gives
up sarcasm for Lent every year. A Jane-of-all-trades, she’s a
certified chef, restores antiques, and dabbles in beekeeping when
she’s not reading voraciously or running down the dream in her beat-up
camo Chucks. Unable to ignore the voices in her head, and unwilling to
become medicated, she writes Science Fiction and Fantasy full time. AK pays
the bills writing a copious amount of copy, along with a column on SFF. She
belongs to the Authors Guild, is an RWA chapter board member, volunteers for
far too many committees, teaches creative writing, and on the rare occasion,
sleeps.
Cursed Wolf Sophie Ash (Howling Death MC) Publication date: March 29th 2024 Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance
If the sweet veterinarian finds out I’m a werewolf, she’ll bolt. But she’s my fated mate, and the beast in me is howling for a taste.
I’m the wolf she hit with her car and nursed back to health. I’m also the gruff biker who saved her from her creepy boss.
She has no idea man and beast are one and the same.
We’re from different worlds, but fate’s thread ties us together. She thinks we’re just dating, but she’s meant for me. And as I get to know her, I can’t get enough.
The more time we spend together, the more my wolf howls to claim her. Soon, I won’t be able to hold back the animal within me.
Fate has cursed me with an impossible choice. Reveal my wolf to a human and risk the safety of my pack.
Or force her into my world with a mating bite, and bind our fates forever.
Whether she likes it or not.
This book features fated mates between a human woman and a protective wolf shifter hiding a big secret. Each book in Howling Death MC is a standalone with a guaranteed HEA!
Sophie Ash is a USA Today bestselling author from Northern California, writing paranormal motorcycle clubs with plenty of bite, as well as passionate retellings of myths and folklore.
When she’s not writing, she’s probably reading, gardening, vacuuming up cat hair, or enjoying a craft beer in the sun.
The Demon’s Discovery L. Alexander
(The Demon Princes, #2)
Publication date: February 21st 2024
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Paranormal, Romance
My whole life I’ve been trapped, but fate has provided a way out.
Orphaned.
Hidden.
Rescued by a Demon Prince.
As a child I became the ward of a duke and his wife, but I’m just a servant in the house, not family.
An accidental encounter with one of their most prestigious guests opens the door to a life I hadn’t dared to dream of.
Residence at the Collegium d’Arcan. A family. Freedom.
The handsome mystic arts teacher nurtures not only my talent in alchemy and my confidence … but also my happiness. His protective affection is unwavering, especially after the duke promises my hand to a merchant without my consent.
Delving into my past reveals things that have the demon prince I’m falling for swearing vengeance on my behalf. Our lives are far more intertwined than anyone could have guessed, and nearly nothing is as it seems.
His secrets might be dangerous, but mine could change the fate of a kingdom.
The Demon’s Discovery is a fated mates romance with a cinnamon roll hero, magic, monsters and a guaranteed happily ever after. It’s a full-length novel with no cliffhanger for the couple and is the second book in this series.
Greta ended up with her back pressed against the supplies cabinet, my forearms flat against the glass, her chest heaving and her cheeks flushed as she gazed up at me with wide eyes.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
There was no way to miss the way her eyes tracked my mouth, the way I was steeped in her scent or how my heart kept trying to reach for her directly through my chest. It had been the sweetest torture to spend the day pressed up against her from behind, able to smell her hair and feel the curves of her body line up with the planes of mine. And now, with her dressed in my clothing, after what we’d been through earlier, I hardly had any restraint at all left.
“Greta,” I warned.
“It’s okay. I want …” she swallowed, my eyes following every movement of her throat and the way her tongue dipped out to wet her bottom lip.
I cupped her cheek with one hand, warring with myself as every impulse in my body screamed at me.
Her eyes became glazed, half closed … and I lost all hold on my control.
I dove in like a man starved, plundering her mouth with my own. I swallowed her noises of surprise, growling back as she pressed herself further against me instead of trying to run away.
She tasted like the berries we’d had with lunch, and I marveled at the softness of her body under my hands, my lips. I teased at her bottom lip with one fang, swiping at the tiny droplet of blood I’d made rush to the surface with my tongue as she sucked in a breath. To my great pleasure, she didn’t pull away as a brief collage of her here at the collegium danced across my mind. If anything, she hovered closer, asking for more in the way her eyes lingered half-closed, her hands fisted in my shirt.
“Vassago …” My name was music on her lips, speaking to the darkest parts of me. The neediest.
The most dangerous ones.
“Greta.” I pressed my lips to hers again, but gently, taking my time exploring. I mapped the way her cupid’s bow formed perfect points in her lush upper lip and a tiny scar caused an imperfection in her bottom one. The way she was reaching for me the way I was for her. The way she hesitated, but just barely, when I requested she open for me by swiping along her lips with my tongue. As I drank from her lips she followed my lead, making another of those incendiary sounds.
I lost myself in her, and it was glorious.
Author Bio:
L. Alexander writes Paranormal and Fantasy romance with sweet & spicy cinnamon roll heroes, fated mates, monsters, magic and more. She guarantees a happily ever after no matter what and has a soft spot for broody anime characters.
L. also writes Contemporary Romance under the name Lily Alexander.
If they want his immortality—they’ll have to take it…
Protecting the Gray Wolf
Lone Wolf Legacy Book 2
by N.J. Walters
Genre: Paranormal Romance
If they want his immortality—they’ll have to take it…in the second deeply sexy and bold Lone Wolf Legacy series from New York Times bestselling author N.J. Walters
I’m used to other wolves coming for me. They want their chance to try and take out the infamous Gray Wolf. And every single one of them fails—because lone wolves aren’t like the others…we’re stronger. Harder. Meaner. Immortal.
But it also means I’m alone. No pack. No alpha. Just the three of us—white, gray, and black. Two too many, if you ask me.
But with power-hungry mages gunning for us, I don’t have the luxury of reflection. They’re in New York City, and I Will. Hunt. Them. Down.
Which is when I see her, and every cell in my body is on alert, filled with the kind of primal longing I never knew I was capable of. Luna West may be human, but there’s some kind of thread connecting us. Call it destiny, fate…or voracious animal hunger.
I know she’s bait. She’s meant to tempt me, to make me weak.
But even if I could resist her, I’m not sure I want to. Because I’ve never denied my wolf anything…especially the chance to raise some serious hell.
And I’m not about to start now.
Each book in the Lone Wolf Legacy series is STANDALONE
N.J. Walters is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who has always been a voracious reader, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, werewolves, dragons, assassins, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks—all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it.
