New Release: Arctic Spirt by Elena Kinkaid


Charlotte Austen has been in love with her two best friends, Chris and Drew Malcom, since high school, but choosing between them was never an option. The day she said goodbye to them was a painful one, especially since she thought she would never see them again. Ten years and one visit later changes everything.

Alaskan tiger shifters, Chris and Drew, have never gotten over Charlotte. The fact that they were both in love with her was never the problem … being destined for a mate, however, was. They reach out to her, hoping to find a way to resume their friendship. The three of them get an unsuspected surprise when they see each other again.

The trio’s happy discovery does not come without a price. Jealousy and prejudice threaten to destroy the budding romance. Will Chris and Drew be able to stop the threat before they lose the love of their lives forever?

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Drew pulled her to him and kissed her fiercely. She heard a low growl coming from the back of his throat and that only turned her on more. She had heard growls emanating from them before and quite a bit in the past two days, confusing them for simple male grunting sounds, but now she knew that the sound was a far more primal one. Soon after, his kiss turned playful, as he first licked the top of her lip and then nipped it. She moaned at the sensation and felt her nipples harden against his chest and her belly contracted with excitement, all modesty forgotten.

She had thought about what her first kiss would feel like with them, but her thoughts had paled in comparison with this reality. She moaned again, louder this time, when Drew pulled back slightly and cupped her breasts. Chris moved in closer from behind and began to gift her with kisses to the nape of her neck, gliding his hands up and down her sides.

Drew ended their kiss with another playful bite, but to her bottom lip this time. He exhaled loudly, while she tried to catch her breath. “You should get some more rest,” he said with regret.

“I have done nothing but sleep for the last two days.” Rest was the last thing she wanted right now. “Please don’t stop.”

“Mmm … I can smell her desire,” Chris said right before he tugged on her earlobe with his teeth.

Drew closed his eyes as he inhaled. “You smell delicious.”

“You can—” Charlotte did not have a chance to finish her sentence. Chris tilted her head to deliver another breath-stealing kiss, leaving his hand splayed right under her neck. Charlotte threw her arms up and over behind Chris’s neck.

Drew wasted no time in taking advantage of her inviting position. He cupped her breasts again before bringing them closer together and sucked hard on her nipples in turn. “You have such beautiful breasts,” he murmured against as he continued to lavish his attention on them.

Chris let loose another sexy growl as she tugged on his hair. He used his free hand to glide down her belly, moving the covers away from her body. She nearly convulsed when his fingers made contact with her soaking-wet pussy. She wanted his fingers inside her, but he only toyed with her at first, rubbing her lips, parting them, and then rubbing the wet flesh between. “I want a taste,” he said, cupping her firmly.

She let out an incoherent sound of agreement.

“Lay down, baby,” Drew said, releasing her breasts.

She complied, positioning herself on her back and then she boldly spread her legs in invitation. Chris moved between them. He massaged her breasts and then ran his hands down the length of her torso to her thighs as if his hands were memorizing her body. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Char.”

Drew lay down beside her. “Chris and I are going to acquaint ourselves with every beautiful inch of you, and then when you are ready, we are going to claim you, permanently.”

About Elena Kincaid

Elena Kincaid is an award-winning and Amazon best-selling author. She writes Paranormal and Contemporary Romances. She developed a passion for reading and writing at an early age, and loves to write what she loves to read, usually romance with a paranormal twist. Her desk is constantly cluttered with journals, sticky notes, and torn-out pieces of paper full of ideas.
She was born in Ukraine and raised in New York, where she currently lives with her daughter. She graduated college with a BFA in creative writing, and in addition to writing, she also started a graphic design business a few years after graduating. When not working, Elena loves to spend time with her family, travel the globe, curl up with a good book, and catch up on her soaps.





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Sandman (Forbidden Love Series II Book 5) by Danielle James

He’s the demigod of her dreams and she’s got a lineage that she can’t hide from. Will a nightmare demon steal it all away, or will these two souls find their destiny together?


Somnus spent his time walking in the dreams of others. He ghosted in and out of their lives, unseen, giving them the magic they needed to dream. Nightmares were unusually high, so he slipped into one of his favorite charge’s dream. That’s when she saw him. Really saw him. Against all odds and against all the rules, Rachel could see him.

Rachel has something special about her, a lineage that she is unaware of, that not only draws Somnus’ attention, but the nightmare demon as well. Somnus must protect her, even from herself.

Get ready for a wild ride as Rachel and Somnus come to terms with her heritage, the demon, and their shared destiny.


Somnus stared at the child sleeping before him. He was a five-year-old with blond hair and blue eyes. The little guy had tossed and turned for an hour before he finally calmed down enough to allow sleep to claim his little body.

Somnus held out his hand and willed his magic to flow from himself to the child. It moved along the air like a cloud of golden glitter, settling on the child’s blond head. The child’s eyes began to move under their lids and a small smile lit the boy’s face. Somnus took a quick peek and saw that the boy was laughing in his dream. He was playing on a playground with other kids, running and climbing like a young boy should be. Somnus had visited the boy enough times to know that the bruises on his delicate skin were not caused by a playground accident. He took some measure of comfort knowing that if only for a short time, he could relieve the boy’s angst from his real life in a dream.

Satisfied with himself, Somnus ghosted to the next person on his list for the night. He liked his job. Giving people the ability to dream was nothing short of a necessary miracle and he did it well. Dreams allowed the mind to make sense of what happened during their waking hours. Long term memories are formed in sleep and sometimes dreams served as a means of relief from the stress of living. Like in the case of the young boy who was beaten daily by his father. Somnus would have throttled that man if he could, but as a demigod, it was forbidden for him to interfere like that. Hell, it was forbidden for him to interfere whatsoever. He could only give the person the ability to dream. Somnus could start the dream in a good place, but ultimately it was up to the dreamer as to where the dream went from where he started it. If he wasn’t aware that it would drive the father insane, he would deny him the ability to dream.  Humans, of all races, needed to dream in order to sort out their thoughts and feelings. To deny one the ability to dream long term would deny their minds the time to regroup. There would be no getting over a bad day. There would be no letting painful emotions go. After a time, the mind would short circuit and the person would go crazy. However, that wouldn’t be helpful to the boy either.

It was pushing three a.m. when Somnus arrived at the home of his most interesting charge. He liked to pretend that he didn’t wait anxiously for the tiny little signal in his brain that told him she had fallen asleep. Her name was Rachel, and every night she took the dream magic he gave her and twisted it into something terrifying. It was no wonder she barely slept, he thought to himself. He wouldn’t either if he saw the things she did in dreams.

He stood over her, nothing more than a ghost in his form, watching her breathe. Her short, dark hair spiked up around her face and head in stark contrast to the white pillow case beneath her. She had long black lashes that cast the slightest shadow across her high cheekbones. His gaze followed the lines of her face down her nose to her full red lips. It wasn’t bad that he knew that was the natural color of her lips at all. He pretended that he didn’t feel a tug of longing in his gut as he looked at her. Somnus wanted all his charges to have good dreams, but this woman was special. Maybe it was because she had so much trouble in that area that he felt the need to help her more than the others. Maybe it was because her ability to conjure some really scary shit in her sleep intrigued him. Or maybe it was because he was a man and she was beautiful. No matter how he tried to dress it up, she was his favorite and he was a little obsessed with her. Okay, he was a lot obsessed with her.

Shaking his head, Somnus allowed his magic to flow. As the golden dream dust settled over her head, Rachel began to dream. I’ll just take a quick peek, he thought, before walking into her dream.

Rachel was dancing in a rose garden, surrounded by beauty and wonder. Her eyes shined brightly; the cobalt blue reflecting the light and seeming to shimmer in the sunlight. This was what he wanted for her, Somnus thought. To be happy in her dreams, to have a little bit of peace. He watched from the edge of her subconscious, feeling better about the amount of magic he used on her with each passing minute. When she laughed aloud, the sound was like music to his ears. He had done well.

Just as he turned to leave her, Rachel’s dream began to change. Dark storm clouds moved in and cluttered the sky, lightning flashed and Somnus could almost smell the ozone in the air. The entire mood of the dream changed instantly. Rachel looked confused for a moment, but then she changed as well. It was as if she had been expecting this. That was impossible, though. Humans did not have any control in their dreams. Somnus knew he should leave, but he couldn’t. He was completely mesmerized by the way Rachel prepared herself for what she knew was to come. She pulled in a deep breath as if to steel her courage, fisted her hands at her sides, and turned around to face whatever danger had come for her.

The dream did not disappoint. From the dark clouds, a form took shape. It was blurry at first, but as the clouds moved and swirled, a large figure became clear. It stood on two legs and had two arms, but that was where the resemblance to any human ended. On top of its head were two huge curved horns that curled around its head behind its pointed ears. Its skin was the color of hot coals, its eyes black and emotionless. It ran in Rachel’s direction and she screamed.

The thing looked like a demon. It ran after Rachel, snarling and slashing at her with its sharpened claws. Rachel was fast though, and kept just enough ahead of it. The scenery changed from a garden to the inner city, and Somnus watched as Rachel maneuvered through the empty streets. He knew he shouldn’t still be there, but he couldn’t help but watch. His heart pounded in his chest, waiting to see that Rachel made it out of the dream safely.

She rounded the corner of a building and came to an immediate stop right in front of Somnus. “You!” she accused. Somnus looked around to see who she was talking to. “Stop that!” she shrieked. “You know I’m talking to you. You’re always here!”

“What?” Somnus barked out. Surely he was the one dreaming. She couldn’t see him, could she?

Thunderous footsteps followed her and became louder. “We don’t have time for this,” Rachel informed him, grabbing his hand. “We have to run.”

“I don’t think so,” Somnus replied. How the hell was she touching him?

“Whatever,” Rachel told him. “It’s your funeral.” And then, she was gone. Awakened from her dream. Somnus watched as the dream world dissipated, and he was once again standing in Rachel’s bedroom. That was by far the strangest thing he had ever witnessed in the dream world.

“Why are you in my house?” Rachel demanded, sitting up and looking right at him. “You have some explaining to do. Start talking before I call the cops.”

Somnus didn’t know what to think. He was good and properly gobsmacked. This was unprecedented and he was at a complete loss. He was ghosted, but yet, she could see him. That wasn’t supposed to be possible, and yet here she was, staring him down, demanding answers. He had no clue what to say to her, but he had to start somewhere. “Why don’t we start with how the hell you can see me?”

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#ThursThreads Week 277 Winner!

I’d played along with Siobhan Muir’s #ThursThreads (, before and won an honorable mention in 2016.  I’d planned to play again well before now but hadn’t been able to until yesterday.  I was tired and wanted to wake up my brain so I decided I’d write a little something.

The rules of the game are (courtesy of Siobhan Muir’s website):

·       This is a Flash Fiction challenge, which means your story must be a minimum of 100 words, maximum of 250.

·       The story must be new writing, not a snippet from something published elsewhere with the prompt added.

·       Incorporate the prompt anywhere into your story (included in your word count).

·       Post your story in the comments section of this post

·       Include your word count (or be excluded from judging)

·       Include your Twitter handle or email (so we know how to find you)

·       The challenge is open 7 AM to 8 PM Mountain Time

·       The winner will be announced on Friday, depending on how early the judge gets up.

The prompt was:  “Nothing is what it says it is”

So, I had to write a story of 100-250 words with that prompt within the story.  The reader judge was Patricia Oak. Thanks, Patricia for liking my story!

Here is my story below.

“You know, nothing is what it says it is.” Domenica commented as she held the box of Trojans.

Mindy couldn’t stop the grin spreading across her face as she watched Domenica frowning at the box of condoms. She swallowed and tried to keep her face as straight as possible knowing that the next question she asked would probably make Domenica say something that would have her laughing like a crazy woman in the middle of the grocery store.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I once had this guy tell me to buy this exact box of condoms and…” Mindy waited as Domenica paused chewing on her bottom lip squinting at the box. After a few long moments, Mindy sighed.


“It just goes to show that some think they’re choosing what’s the right size and well when you get there and you’re all excited. You get a big letdown. Because honestly it’s all in their…um…head.”

Mindy giggled.

“He said he was a Magnum.”

Domenica turned to look at Mindy with a smirk on her full lips and her green eyes twinkling.

“Girl, he was the size of a jalapeno and I say that with the utmost reverence.” For more effect Mindy watched Domenica wiggle her pinky. There was a gasp behind them and Mindy turned to see an older blue haired lady who looked scandalized say ‘Well I never!’

Domenica winked, “And she probably never will.”

Leave it to Domenica to make grocery shopping a day of fun.

I recommend that writers do this.  It’s fun and makes you think on your feet.  I also recommend that readers go check this out as there are some excellent stories from fantastic authors.

Break Me by Elyzabeth M. VaLey

The monster lay dormant, until it saw her…

Every few years, the beast within Grisha Vasiliev rouses, clamoring for blood. When he sees Ayla Clark dancing, her movements exuding grace, passion and joy, he knows he must have her.

Grisha kidnaps Ayla expecting the usual: resistance, tears, pleas for mercy. But when Ayla breaks the mold, his whole world spirals out of control and feelings he thought he could never have again resurface.

He thought she was perfect, but she’s the broken doll on the shelf.

The last thing Ayla Clark remembers is celebrating her performance as Giselle and flirting with the handsome Grisha Vasiliev, the owner of one of the most prestigious ballet companies in the country. Now, she’s tied up and at his mercy, begging for more of his attention, while fighting to keep her own secrets buried in the dark.

Be Warned: BDSM, knife play, whipping

Available at:

Evernight Publishing


And More!


Ayla turned on her heel and raced out the door. Her bare feet slapped against the cool floor almost painfully. The glass shard cut into her hand but she didn’t dare release it yet. Lights blinked on as she ran down the hall and up a set of stairs. Tripping, she dropped her primitive weapon.


She didn’t stop to pick it up but continued until the top. She clutched her stomach. It couldn’t be. A thick metal door loomed before her. She lunged at it, screaming and crying, shouting for help, but it didn’t budge.

“Please,” she whimpered.

 “You’re going to hurt yourself. The door is pure steel, locked with a key and an electronic panel.”

She spun to face Grisha. He stood a few steps behind her, arms crossed over his chest, eyes gleaming with predatory intent. Her shoulders slumped. A lump formed in her throat.

“No. Please, Grisha. Let me go.”

 “I can’t do that.”

“Why? You’re rich, powerful. You can have anything you want. Why?” she insisted. “I swear I won’t say anything. This never happened.”

“That isn’t the way this works, sweetheart.”

“Please, Grisha.”

Her knees gave out and she slid to the floor. Her head spun. None of this made any sense. Grisha towered over her. Tears gathered behind her lids. She inched forward, hugging his left leg.

“I beg you.” 

Grisha lay his hand on her head. She looked up at him. The power of his gaze undid the well of emotions within her. She would never get out of here. Sobs racked her body. She clung to him, beseeching him.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

He settled on the floor next to her and pulled her onto his lap. Ayla’s arms wrapped around his neck naturally. He caressed her back in soothing circles. She burrowed her face into the collar of his shirt, his fresh, woodsy essence entering her system. Familiar. Welcoming. Slowly, her tears ebbed replaced by confusion. Why did he comfort her?

“What are you going to do to me?” she whispered.

He caught her chin. His gaze danced over her face for an instant. His brow furrowed. The blue in his eyes darkened to midnight depths. Then his lips were on her, pressing, claiming, sparking her body alive. Her brain shut down. His tongue met hers and she opened up, eager to taste more. He demanded and she willingly gave.

Ayla was his to do as he pleased. His hands touched her everywhere, leaving behind a trail of burning need. Liquid gathered at the apex between her thighs. Her clit throbbed.

Grisha cupped her swollen breast, squeezing the turgid nub between his fingers. She moaned. He bent his head and took her nipple in his mouth, hungrily sucking. She arched, whimpering. His heavy hand slid across her thigh to her pussy. Relentless fingers probed her entrance.

“You’re soaked.” He groaned.

She turned her head, embarrassed. Grisha thrust a digit into her. Ayla sucked in air.

“You like this. You want this,” he said, his voice husky and gritty.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“You enjoy this,” he whispered, pushing another finger into her, slowly pumping them. She mewled.

“My sweet little dancer wants my cock in her cunt, doesn’t she?”

She shook her head.

“No? That’s not what this tells me.” He curled his finger across her G-spot and began to massage it. She shook from head to toe.


“What is it, sweetheart? Want more?”

Three fingers rubbed her. The pressure increased. Ayla threw back her head. Her hips swayed involuntarily. His strokes turned quick and short. Sweat trickled down her back.

“Grisha,” she panted.

“You’re going to come for me, Ayla, and you’re going to do it now.”





About Elyzabeth M. VaLey

Elyzabeth M. VaLey is a writer of sizzling, sexy romance who firmly believes in happy ever after.  From paranormal to contemporary, fantasy, or historical, she enjoys exploring her characters’ darker side and writing stories about tortured heroes, strong heroines, and all that comes between them and their love.

When she’s not writing, she can be found walking in the Spanish countryside with her black Lab, exploring castles, or enjoying some tapas with her friends. 

Follow her at:

Blog Website Facebook Twitter

Instagram (@elyzabethm.valey)


Pinterest  (Break Me has its own inspiration board)



Always by London Saint James

About the Book:

Written by London Saint James

Published by LSJ Romance

Genre: M/F Contemporary Romance

Word Count: 100k

Heat Level: 3


International bestselling author London Saint James’ first installment from Two Hearts, One Soul Duet is the epic tale of abiding love, heart-wrenching loss, and an astonishing bond that will find a way to endure.

Winter Perri never truly understood love until she met Austin Carlyle—the man who would rock her world to its foundations and give her something to believe in. But the night before they were to be married, the fairytale shattered.

Thirteen years later Winter is pulled out of her seclusion only to have a painful past confront her, and when it does, she’s left questioning reality, because the impossible is looking back at her with the face of a destroying angel, and piercing eyes in too familiar shades of blue.



We were never going to get out of California!

“Looking at a five-hour delay,” the pilot said. “Bad weather at LaGuardia.”


Austin put his arm around me, pulled me close, and whispered, “Do you have any idea how stunning you are when you’re mad?”

His tempting voice broke through my irritation like a sledgehammer, and without any control to stop it a smile crept over my face. “No, I don’t. Why don’t you tell me?”

“I only have five hours to tell you, so we better get started.”

I rolled my eyes. “I doubt it will take five hours to explain.”

Austin laughed his low musical laugh then tapped the tip of my nose with his index finger. “I know. I’ll need more time.”

If Austin hadn’t been with me, I would have been upset the entire time; however what could have been a taxing event was as usual made better by his always calming presence. He took me by the hand, without protest on my part, and led me over to a more secluded area of the airport, scurrying past an onslaught of people, baggage handlers, flight attendants, and airport security as if we were the only two people in the world.

He sat down, propped his back against the wall, and nestled me between his legs. I leaned my head against his right shoulder with my two hands resting on each of his denim clad knees as he talked in a low murmur into my ear. The sounds of the airport faded away. The footfalls of strangers left. The bustle of baggage being moved disappeared. The overhead announcements completely vanished, while Austin described to me in detail why he found me beautiful.

He told me about my mouth, the way it moved when I talked, the way my eyes flashed when I got irritated, or excited, and how my face looked when I was mad or jealous. He described the curve of my eye, the arch of my brows, the furrows that gather between them when I concentrate. He told me about the color of my eyes, describing them as emeralds cut with sparkling facets of light. He spoke of how I bite my bottom lip. How he loved to hear me sing to the radio in the shower, the sound of my laugh, and the way my face looked when I was happy—luminescent and bright. He even told me he loved it when I argued with him, watching that little huff of displeasure I made right before I caved in.

I smiled because he was right. He had the ability to make me cave no matter how ticked-off I might be.

Austin told me how he loved to watch me sleep—the peaceful expressions—the sound my heartbeat made as it thrummed. He spoke about my body, the way I moved, the sounds I made when we made love—the warmth of me. Then he threw in some hot, juicy details about his body and mine that made me blush.

This started another line of conversation which prolonged the rosy red sensation to my cheeks.

Then, Austin delved deeper. He told me how my fragility showed through my strength, my insecurities through my courage—how I’m more than body, more than flesh. He spoke of me as the essence of desire, beauty, intelligence, grace; more than a single truth, a single word, a single caress, or a simple breath. He explained I am a girl, a lover, a daughter, a friend, a woman, and someday I will be a mother. He expressed his longing to have children with me, saying he couldn’t wait to see my belly rounded with our child.

“I want a little girl with your eyes, your lips, and your smile,” he said.

“Maybe I want her to have your eyes, brilliant blue that shifts into silver,” I countered.

“All right then. We’ll have both. A compromise. One with your eyes and one with mine.”

“Don’t you want a boy?” I asked.

“Sure,” he said. “How about you?”

“I would love to have your son and watch him grow up to be a heartbreaker just like his father.”

Austin’s laugh vibrated across my cheek. “It’s settled. Two girls and a boy.”

As he combed his fingers through my hair, Austin told me who I am, and who I will always be to him. He held a mirror to my soul, allowing me the reflection of the woman I should be, the woman he has made me, the woman I have become—the simple complexity of me.

Buy the ebook here: Amazon Amazon UK  Amazon CA

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Available in Print & Audiobook Soon!


About London:

London Saint James has lived in many places, but never felt ‘at home’ until she met the real-life man of her dreams and settled down in the beautiful Smoky Mountains of Tennessee. London lives with her husband and their fat cat who thinks he owns them.

As an award-winning, international bestselling author, London is living her childhood dream. She knew all the scribbling she did, that big imagination of hers, and all those clamoring characters running around in her head would pay off someday.



Twitter: @LSJRomance



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Seamus’s Mate, Alpha Protectors, 2 by Elyzabeth M. Valey





Alpha Protectors, 2

Kaila is His. His Mate. Forever. 

When Seamus discovers Kaila is in danger he sets out to save her. He couldn’t care less that she doesn’t want him there. His objective in life is to love and protect her. Besides, she might refuse to be with him, but her body knows better. With both their lives on the line, she can’t say no to his aid, can she? 

For years, she has ignored her feelings. Kaila’s mission was supposed to be easy: enter the demon’s lair and save her sister. Then, he came along. For close to twenty years she has been fighting against the mating pull. She has avoided Seamus at all costs, but now they’re both trapped in hell and she has nowhere to run, except, maybe, into his arms.

Available at:

Evernight Publishing
and more!



“Wait up, Kaila.”

She didn’t acknowledge him, and he rushed to catch up with her. He grasped her wrist, spinning her around with force.

“Didn’t you hear me?” he asked.

Kaila’s gaze narrowed. Her lips pursed into an ugly grimace.

“Let go of me, Seamus. Why don’t you let this weak human die already?” She poked him in the chest with her index finger. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

Seamus scrubbed a hand over his face. “What is wrong with you? You’re not making any sense. I know you didn’t ask for my help. I gave it freely, but you aren’t going to deny that we are different, are you?”

“Fuck you.”

Blinding rage took over him. Seamus dug his fingers into her arm. He was tired of all this nonsense. He pulled her closer. Her arm shot out to keep him away, but not fast enough. He swooped down and claimed her lips. She gasped, and he seized the chance to push his tongue into her warm recess. He groaned. She tasted better than he remembered. For a brief moment, she grappled with him, attempting to break lose, but he grabbed her arms with ease and held them behind her back.

He twisted his tongue around hers, drawing it out from its reluctance and forcing it to battle with his. Something in his chest tightened as she responded. Yes. He sucked and tugged and demanded more. She gave it to him. Her body arched against his, her mouth seeking his with almost as much desperation as he possessed. His hold on her slackened. He wanted to touch her everywhere. To press his lips to her body and taste every inch of her. His hand trailed to the curve of her ass, then to her waist. Then, bang! Her knee slammed against his leg. He released her, cursing. He’d probably be incapacitated for life if she’d hit her mark.

“Fuck you, Seamus.”

“Whenever you want, babe. I know you’ve got the hots for me, even if you just tried to castrate me and failed miserably.” He laughed.

Kaila spun and walked away from him again. She was probably not trying to be sultry, but her hips swayed in that way that drove a man to stare. She lifted her arm and gave him the finger. He grinned. She was pissed and sexy. He loved it.

Seamus took in a shaky breath. Watching her back on her feet, her spirit alive and surging, was soothing. He rubbed at the spot where she’d kneed him. It hurt, but it was proof that she was herself again, not lying in a puddle of blood, shredded to pieces by a monster. He glanced at the Dream Catcher’s skeleton out of the corner of his eye. He hadn’t told Kaila the details of what he’d suffered inside the beast. The images of her dead body, broken, destroyed. He didn’t wish his worst enemy a fate like that.

He stretched his wings and snapped them back into place. Even they ached. He adjusted his now-flaccid cock and shuddered. He hurried after Kaila. The place appeared deserted. There were no scones in the wall giving off light. Instead, the walls themselves seemed to pulse with energy. They glowed from the inside as if behind them a relentless flame burned. He frowned. He extended his arm and placed his pinkie on the rock. It burned.

“Damn it.” He put the digit in his mouth, hoping to sooth the sting. “Don’t touch the walls, babe. They’re hot.”

Kaila didn’t reply, but she moved a little closer to the center of the path.


About Elyzabeth M. VaLey

Elyzabeth M. VaLey is a writer of sizzling, sexy romance who firmly believes in happy ever after.  From paranormal to contemporary, fantasy, or historical, she enjoys exploring her characters’ darker side and writing stories about tortured heroes, strong heroines, and all that comes between them and their love.

When she’s not writing, she can be found walking in the Spanish countryside with her black Lab, exploring castles, or enjoying some tapas with her friends.


Follow her at:

Instagram (@elyzabethm.valey)
Pinterest  (Seamus’s Mate has its own inspiration board)


Phoenix Rising by Alexandra Christian

Phoenix Rising: Naked

M/F Sci-fi Thriller


Release date:  April 13, 2017

Following a brutal act of vengeance, MI:6 agent Macijah St. John is left grieving for his slaughtered family and agrees to participate in a secret government experiment that gives him a magnificent and terrible power.  Now he’s a mercenary spy that solves problems for the right price.  His latest job puts him in the path of the greatest catastrophe yet—a librarian.

Phoebe Addison’s life is a disaster. Crippling debt, a non-existent social life, and being the town librarian is hardly the glamorous existence she’d always dreamed of. But when her sister Jessica, an interplanetary archeologist, gets herself involved with a psychotic billionaire bent on world domination, Phoe is about to get more excitement than she bargained for.

Excerpt:  Caught in the Rain

There is no situation that can’t be made worse with the addition of heavy rain. Phoebe stumbled down the path behind St. John, her sensible pumps sinking into the squishy ground with every step. His long-legged strides weren’t particularly fast, but she was practically running to catch up. She was also trying to pull a bulky suitcase behind her without much luck. Finally she ran over a large rock, tipping the case over and taking her with it. She sat down hard on the wet ground, the standing water in the grass splashing up and peppering her with a spray of muddy freckles. “Damnit!” she cried, wanting to throw herself down and have a kicking and screaming tantrum. Instead she took off one of her shoes and threw it as hard as she could. It whizzed past St. John’s ear, and he finally turned.

“Problem?” he asked, strolling back toward where she sat in the grass.

“Can you slow down a minute, please?” Her tone was teetering on annoyance. Couldn’t he see that she was having trouble? So much for the politeness of the British.

He stared down at her, his arms crossed over his chest. “Actually, no. We need to get as far away from that crash site as soon as possible and you to that spaceport so I can be on my way.”  He looked over the assortment of items that had fallen out of the case as it tipped over. “Got any trainers in there?”

Phoebe looked up at him like he had suddenly lapsed into Chinese. “What?”

“Trainers. Shoes. Like shoes you wear for running.”

“Oh. Not really, no.”

“Jeans? A jumper?”

“No. I didn’t think I’d be trekking through the forest,” she replied, taking his offered hand and letting him pull her upright. She limped over to where she had thrown her shoe, searching the grass.

“Is there anything in there that’s helpful or important?”

“Well of course,” she replied. “My clothes and toothbrush… anti-bac hand lotion…” She continued listing off all of the things as she pulled her discarded shoe back on. Heaving a sigh, he grabbed the suitcase and slung it as hard as he could over the ravine.

“What are you doing?” She could feel the pressure of angry tears behind her eyes as she watched all of her worldly possessions take a header down the bank, spilling her delicates over the dirty ground. How dare he have such disregard for her personal property! Not to mention that the items in that suitcase were her security blankets. There might not be anything of value or anything “helpful,” but there were things she needed! A picture of her family, her allergy medicine… her copy of Gone With the Wind. Phoebe started to run after the case, but St. John held her back. She beat her fists against his arms and chest. “Let me go! That’s my stuff! I need it!”

“Your stuff is slowing us down. Look, I said I would help you, but I’m not a bellhop or a hero! If you’re going with me, you play by my rules.”  He looked up into the sky and let her go. “Come on… it’s nearly dawn.”

She watched him go, starting to reconsider her pleas for his help and then realizing that she had little choice but to follow him. They were now so far off the beaten path that she’d never find her way out. Steeling her jaw and giving a last glance back to where he’d thrown her suitcase, she started walking. Despite his growling, he did slow the pace a little so that she could keep up.

As they walked on and on, the trees rose up around them in an ominous canopy that nearly obliterated the early morning light of dawn. She could hear the stream that ran along beside them at the bottom of the ravine. It was hard to believe in their world that places such as this still even existed. It was almost desolate, but beautiful. Watching him as they walked, she slowly realized that St. John seemed almost as distressed as she felt. By now they’d been walking for hours, and in that time he’d become increasingly irritable. After several attempts at conversation, Phoebe had just given up and walked beside him silently. But his mood was starting to make her worry even more than she had been already.

“So… you don’t really seem like the normal space traveler,” he said, surprising her by breaking the silence. St. John shifted the backpack from one shoulder to the other. “What’s taking you to New London?”

“What? Oh… yes. My sister,” she replied. “I’m going to visit her.”

“Interesting,” he replied blandly.

Her heart pounded in her chest. She didn’t fully trust St. John and wasn’t sure that she should reveal her true intentions. Anyone could be working for Machine. Maybe he had been sent to keep an eye on her. Phoe was a fan of James Bond, so she had spent many an hour watching spy movies. He could be some kind of operative that was just waiting for an opportunity to steal the medallion and leave her broken body in the woods. And of course there was the werewolf thing. “Not really. I mean… it’s just a visit.”

“Well considering that no one really lives on the space colony unless they’re either filthy rich or a scientist of some sort. Judging by your clothes, you don’t appear to be particularly wealthy. So that leaves scientist.”

“She’s an archaeologist,” Phoebe answered. “She works for the Interplanetary Union, looking for natural resources and such. I’m a librarian.”

“I didn’t know those existed anymore. Libraries, I mean.”

“In small towns mostly, I suppose. I mean, I used to work for a digital archive in New Orleans, but I… I didn’t really like it there.” She bit down on her lip, wishing she could take it back. Her brain whirred, already constructing the story that she would tell him when he asked why she’d left New Orleans. Everyone asked why.

To her surprise, St. John just nodded, glancing toward the lightening sky again.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” he parroted.

“Well… what do you do?”

“I… I’m not really sure how to describe what I do. I’m a problem solver, I guess.”  Given the things Phoe saw in his backpack, his problem solving skills must involve heavy artillery.

About Lexx:

Alexandra Christian is an author of mostly romance with a speculative slant. Her love of Stephen King and sweet tea has flavored her fiction with a Southern Gothic sensibility that reeks of Spanish moss and deep fried eccentricity. As one-half of the writing team at Little Red Hen Romance, she’s committed to bringing exciting stories and sapiosexual love monkeys to intelligent readers everywhere. Lexx also likes to keep her fingers in lots of different pies having written everything from sci-fi and horror to Sherlock Holmes adventures. Her alter-ego, A.C. Thompson, is also the editor of the highly successful Improbable Adventures of Sherlock Holmes series of anthologies.

A self-proclaimed “Southern Belle from Hell,” Lexx is a native South Carolinian who lives with an epileptic wiener dog and her husband, author Tally Johnson. Her long-term aspirations are to one day be a best-selling authoress and part-time pinup girl. She’s a member of Romance Writers of America and Broad Universe—an organization that supports female authors of speculative fiction.


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INSTAFREEBIE for an erotic short by the author called “Unmasked”: (Thru 4/18)



Three Hearts by Grace R. Duncan – Now Available for Preorder

Three Hearts
By Grace R. Duncan
Cover by Jess Small
72k words
M/M Paranormal/shifters

Pre-order available now: Amazon

Release date: 3/3/2017


Liam Scott is sick. That’s not supposed to be possible. As a wolf shifter, he’s supposed to be able to heal. The omega gene he was born with means he’s capable of carrying shifter young and Liam is worried that whatever is wrong will mean his one-day hope of having pups will be dashed. But despite the fears keeping him away from the doctor until now, he knows he needs to go.

It turns out the sickness is temporary, but the treatment causes a whole other problem.

Mason’s alpha gene means he’s one of very few wolves who can impregnate an omega male. For two years, he’d been watching Liam, but things kept getting in the way. When Liam shows up in heat, Mason recognizes the opportunity he needs and doesn’t hesitate make to Liam his mate and the father of his pups.

But Liam has old wounds and fears to work through which the pregnancy is only making worse, and Mason isn’t sure how to get past them to show he’s serious about making a life together as loving mates. It’s not until a female wolf decides Mason should be hers that Liam makes his biggest worry known—and Mason can finally put the fears to rest.




When the alarm went off, I smacked it into submission, then burrowed farther into my pillow. The last thing I wanted to do was get out of bed. Despite knowing I had to have slept, I had absolutely zero energy. I didn’t remember waking up overnight at all, and I knew I’d lain down by ten and fallen asleep pretty fast.

I gave in to a moment of self-pity. As a wolf shifter, I wasn’t supposed to be sick. I wasn’t supposed to be able to get sick with common things. And if I got sick, I was supposed to be able to recover within a day or two. Our injuries never lasted more than a day or two, and that was only if it was severe. We didn’t get diseases, especially human ones. And if we did manage to contract some kind of bug that attacked wolf immunity, our bodies killed it quickly.

There were rumors that a form of cancer had started hitting the wolf population. That scared me more than a little, especially recently, with whatever was wrong with me. It was one reason why I hadn’t yet gone to the doctor. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear what they’d tell me.

Because I was also not a typical male shifter. I was one of a rare type the Idiots That Be named “omega.” I didn’t know if they found it ironic or what when they borrowed the name from the humans’ faulty knowledge of wild wolves. But omega was definitely a misnomer. It used to mean “weak.” The bottom of the totem pole, as it were, in a wolf pack. I was on the smaller side, but that was no more indicative of my strength than my light brown hair was.

Omegas are as strong as most other wolves, as fast as any of them. We’re not looked down on—for the most part—by other wolves, or made to be the last to do or get anything. Sure, there are always some who insist we’re inferior. I suspect it’s mostly jealousy, though that wasn’t always easy to remember when I was the one being picked on.

No, what made us unique was that omegas could carry and give birth to our young.

Like the female wolves, omegas went into heat once a month, usually for four days around the new moon. Sometimes more or less; it was as individual as human females were. We wolves, omega and female alike, took a form of birth control that suppressed our heat. I had no idea how it worked with our metabolism, but apparently the shifter scientists knew a lot more than me. So, as the new moon approached, I took a pill twice a day and voila—no heat.

Which was good because going through heat sucked.

It was the worst horniness imaginable. I could jack off constantly for that four-day period and it didn’t relieve me. I could stuff my ass full of dildos and nothing helped. The only thing that would was the one thing I hadn’t let myself do—find an alpha male to breed me.

Yes, we had alphas. It was a genetic marker in their blood, not much else. Most of them were a bit bigger than the rest of us, some a bit stronger. But it wasn’t a huge difference. And I hadn’t yet met an alpha with the kind of asshole attitude that’s so frequently portrayed in fiction. They got named alpha because they were discovered first. Alpha males were the only ones who could impregnate an omega, which was probably because of that genetic marker. And while the scientists understood it, I didn’t.

The rest of the wolf population didn’t have a specific designation. If you weren’t an alpha or omega, you were just a plain ol’ wolf.

But even though I wasn’t ready to mate yet, I did want to have pups someday. So I was scared to death of what a doctor would tell me. What if something was wrong and I couldn’t have them?

I was going to have to put aside my fear, though. It’d been going on for two months now. Despite shifting on the full moon—we had no choice; we were forced through the shift—and exercising when I could, running at other times, I hadn’t gotten better.

I was exhausted. All the time. I got cold at the drop of a hat.

And I’d been forgetting shit. Stupid little details, that were driving me crazy. It had to stop.

About Grace

grace_nohateGrace Duncan grew up with a wild imagination. She told stories from an early age – many of which got her into trouble. Eventually, she learned to channel that imagination into less troublesome areas, including fanfiction, which is what has led her to writing male/male erotica.

A gypsy in her own right, Grace has lived all over the United States. She has currently set up camp in East Texas with her husband and children – both the human and furry kind.

As one of those rare creatures who loves research, Grace can get lost for hours on the internet, reading up on any number of strange and different topics. She can also be found writing fanfiction, reading fantasy, crime, suspense, romance and other erotica or even dabbling in art.

Find Grace here:

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Delicious Satisfaction cover reveal and giveaway!



The Delicious Desires Series

By Sabrina Sol


As LA’s hottest up-and-coming chef, Alexa Montoya is known for her ruby red lipstick, award-winning arroz con pollo and a penchant for falling for the wrong kind of men. And when a confrontation with a loser ex-boyfriend lands her in some legal trouble, she’s forced to call her long-time friend, Dante Perez, to bail her out. Only this time, Dante seems different, somehow. More gorgeous, more sexy, more…mouthwateringly irresistible. Suddenly she’s tempted to give the lawyer much more than a simple thank you…


Dante is tired of seeing Alexa with guys who only know how to steal her money and break her heart. He’s watched–and waited for–her long enough. Helping with her legal situation will finally give him a chance to win her over for good. His plan?  He’ll seduce her into finally believing that there’s something deliciously right between them…


Despite their chemistry, Alexa can’t trust that Dante won’t leave. But Dante knows how to win a case. And he’ll do whatever it takes to convince Alexa that she’ll always leave him hungry for more.


“I’m trying to be less impulsive,” she confessed.

He narrowed his eyes. “What does that mean?”

“It means I’m trying very hard not to let my emotions get the best of me, especially when it comes to guys. Jumping into bed with you for a quickie isn’t a good idea right now.”

His expression darkened. “Oh, my sweet Alexa. I’m not looking for a one time hookup. I’ve waited too damned long for you. One time won’t nearly be enough.”

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You can find out more about Sabrina Sol at: