Obsidian by Rebecca Henry

Book 2 in the Ambrosia Hill series

General Release Date: 22nd November 2022

Word Count: 41,846
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL

Genres:

GLBTQI
LESBIAN
PARANORMAL
ROMANCE
YOUNG ADULT

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Book Description

Sometimes you have to reveal the truth to receive love.

Ninth grade at St. Hope’s is everything Zinnia didn’t want it to be. Her life back in the city feels empty and her former friend Liv and her groupies are suffocating Zinnia with their daily taunts. As Halloween approaches, Zinnia craves the comfort and security of Ambrosia Hill and desperately wishes to be back with her aunts. But even more than that, she wants to see the green-eyed girl Billie, who Zinnia can’t get out of her mind. Right when Zinnia thinks she won’t be able to wait until the summer to see Billie, her mom shocks her with a spontaneous announcement. They are leaving for Ambrosia Hill.

But can Zinnia surrender her truth to accept love, and will Billie accept Zinnia’s path as a witch?

Excerpt

Ninth grade is everything I didn’t want it to be. I flung my backpack over my shoulder and made my way down the crowded hallway through a sea of royal blue blazers and plaid skirts.

“Five weeks down and only thirty-five more to go,” I muttered as my sneakers squeaked on the scuffed floors, my nostrils flaring at the intrusive scent of pine cleaning solution and freshly sharpened pencils.

I reached my locker, thankful to be out of the mob, and scratched at the neck of my collar. The wool fabric itched against my skin. I hate these uniforms.

Everything about ninth grade sucked, but nothing was worse than my classmates. How can we be the same age and be so infinitely different? I wondered for the hundredth time. I felt like a thirty-year-old woman trapped in a fourteen-year-old’s body, surrounded by babbling toddlers. I stepped to the side, shuddering as one of the boys hollered at the top of his lungs while slamming his friend into a locker, sending a shock wave of vibrations down the row of metal. I had zero to nothing in common with any of the boys in my year, and this adolescent display proved it.

I welcomed the cold steel under my fingertips as I swirled the dial on my combination lock, momentarily escaping into my favorite daydream—that I wasn’t at St. Hope’s High School but instead back in Ambrosia Hill with my Aunts Luna and Stella. And Billie.

Lately, my only escape from high school had been burying myself in the gothic novels I kept stashed away on a shelf in my locker. I found great comfort in sketching the characters from each book I read. Reading gave me an excuse to slip away from the teenage drama and tune out the gossip from everyone around me, but I couldn’t lose myself in the popular romance fantasy tropes. I found teenage vampire novels a joke. Even though I’d tried reading a couple of them for the sake of reputation, I’d never made it past page thirty. I reached inside my bag and thumbed through a copy of my latest read—The Death of Jane Lawrence by Caitlin Starling. I held it in my hands like it was a life raft in a storm, my only protection from the annoying teenage angst and sophomoric jokes that bombarded the halls of high school. All I wanted to do was sit in the back of my next class and get lost within its pages.

Liv screeched behind me, snapping me back to reality. I held the book against my chest like a shield.

“Omigod, the autumn dance is, like, happening so soon, and you girls still don’t have dates?”

I flinched as I turned around, bracing myself for Liv and her gaggle of sycophants. I glared as Liv flicked her buttery-blonde hair behind her shoulder.

“You do realize you’ll be a total loser if you show up alone?” Liv turned to face me, angling herself like a spotlight. I could feel the weight of everyone’s stares as Liv settled her cold eyes on her favorite target—me. She raised her voice, making sure everyone in the hallway could hear her say, “Only lesbos go to a school dance with other girls.”

I rolled my eyes, mentally preparing for Liv’s next words. She was nothing if not predictable, and I waited for her to toss her next barb.

“Isn’t that right, Zinnia?” She never missed an opportunity to call me out on being a lesbian, and her band of idiot friends giggled as if she’d told a hilarious joke. I flung open my locker door a bit too aggressively, hitting the boy next to me. He looked at me, startled, and I offered a small frown as an apology as I tried to steady my temper. Liv was coming for me, and I needed to be ready.

The annoying click-clack of her high-heeled boots came to a stop behind me. Her cloying perfume was a noxious cloud invading my space, threatening to make me sick. I sighed loudly, leaning my forehead against a shelf in my locker, buying myself a few steadying beats as I took a deep breath, tossed my backpack aside and turned around to face Liv. She was so close to me I could feel her warm breath on my neck, and it made me want to vomit all over her school blazer.

“Um, a little space, please?” I quipped as I placed a hand on her shoulder and moved her back a step. “I thought I was the gay one?” Liv’s band of morons grinned as they looked from me to Liv, elbowing each other in the ribs, their guffaws echoing off the metal lockers. Anger flashed in Liv’s eyes.

Oh boy, I just added fuel to this fire. But I knew Liv, and I knew to defeat a bully like her was to stand my ground. I was the only teen in high school who could out-punk Liv. Being her best friend all through elementary up until junior high had schooled me on what type of person she was. Even though she was St. Hope’s biggest jerk, I knew her secret— Liv was just as insecure and fragile as the rest of us. However, she was a champion at hiding it behind a veil of cruelty

“Ugh, try to keep your hands off me, gay girl.” Liv tossed her long hair over her shoulder. “Everyone knows you’re obsessed with me, but ew, I don’t want to catch your lesbo germs.”

I rolled my eyes before picking up my backpack. “Right, because being gay is a virus and you’re afraid that you might catch my lesbian bug and make out with me.” I turned my back on Liv as I swapped out my textbooks for my next class. “Get over yourself, Liv. Homophobia has been out of style for years.”

She growled as her lackeys tittered around us. I could feel Liv’s temper boil like water in a kettle.

“You’re just avoiding the truth—no one here wants to touch your lesbo-butt and go to the dance with you.” Liv looked behind her and raised her arms at the crowd that had gathered around us. “Anyone willing to be Lesbo-butt’s date to the dance?”

I cringed. Lesbo-butt, guess that’s my new nickname for the school year. Awesome. Thanks, Liv.

Thankfully, almost no one at St. Hope’s cared that I was into girls. The only one who was a bully about it was Liv. But that didn’t mean the school wouldn’t line up for one of Liv’s targeted rants. Everyone at St. Hope’s liked a good show, especially when it came at someone else’s expense.

Liv pointed at a random boy. Henry, a boy from my geometry class, looked over his shoulder, his face coloring when he realized Liv was talking to him. “How about you? The boy in the back? You’re not cute. I can’t imagine you have a date.” His face flushed crimson as he dropped his gaze to his feet. “Take Lesbo-butt to the dance. I’ll give you a hundred dollars if you can convert her to liking boys.”

I spun on my heel, my hand raised and itching to slap the smug look of cruel victory off Liv’s face. Instead I lowered my hand to finger the amethyst pendant at my throat, the heaviness of its chain settling me like an anchor. Needing to calm down, I willed my temper to ease.

“You’re such an idiot, Liv. You can’t convert a biologically gay person to straight and picking on Henry for not having a date is just low.” I glanced at the faces behind Liv and slowly returned my gaze to meet her cold blue eyes. “Why don’t you stop worrying about what everybody else is doing and just ask Jayden to the dance yourself, instead of making these pathetic attempts to get his attention?”

Liv flared her tiny nostrils as her eyes grew wild. Snickers were echoing behind her back, and I watched as her face turned as red as her lipstick. She curled her lips as she searched for a new insult. Liv’s pale hand whipped over my head to snatch a photo off my locker door.

“Who’s this, Lesbo-butt? Is this your boyfriend in Hicksville?” Liv pivoted on her heel to raise the photo to the crowd like a trophy. “I mean, maybe I’m wrong, but do you guys know if this is a photo of a boy or a girl?” Her eyes glittered with malice. “It’s just so confusing. It must be a girl because Lesbo-butt only likes girls. But omigod if it doesn’t look a lot like Harry over there.”

The boy ducked his head, staring at the floor as he mumbled, “It’s Henry,” but Liv didn’t pay him any attention.

Instead, she turned to face me, a defiant hand on her bony hip. “Does it have a name, Zinnia? Maybe that might help us decide if you’re into boys or girls these days.” Liv touched a finger to her chin and cocked her head, pretending to be in deep thought. “Wait, don’t tell me. Its name is Bobby.” Liv shook her head, her lips twisted in a cruel smile. “No, no, no, that’s not right,” she hummed, studying the picture before a flash of mischief danced across her smug face. “I remember now, its name is Billie. Am I right?” Liv shrugged with a malevolent laugh. “Guess that doesn’t help much with an androgynous name like Billie, does it?”

She turned to Henry, who looked miserable with humiliation. “Looks like you might still be in the running to take Zinnia to the dance, Harry.”

I lunged at Liv, snatching the photo out of her fingers. The photo tore in two, and Liv grinned at me as she waved her half of Billie’s photo in my face. I shook with anger as Liv hooted.

I held my half of the photo with shaking fingers. “Liv, you’re such a psycho! You know Billie is a girl, but you’re being a total jerk because you’re jealous that she’s hotter than Jayden.” Liv’s grin snapped shut and her eyes narrowed at me. Her idiot friends bounced their eyes back and forth between us, grinning like a pack of bloodthirsty hyenas. “And by the way,” I continued, “everyone knows you’re obsessed with him. You’ve been drooling over that boy since second grade, but you don’t have the guts to tell him.” My voice bellowed out louder than I had meant to, and I realized I was yelling.

I looked down at the torn photo in my hand. An emerald-green eye stared back at me. I snapped my locker shut and stuffed the photo in my back pocket. “And his name is Henry, not Harry, you bully!” I slammed my shoulder into Liv’s as I made my way through the snickering faces and stormed off into my next class.

I slid into my seat seconds before the bell rang and stared down at my desk. Everyone else was already seated, and I could feel their eyes on me. I sank deep into my chair at the back of the room, glowering. I was certain the entire science class had heard Liv roaring at me in the hallway. My science teacher Mr. Kurt lifted his head, glancing at me through his smudged glasses, his eyebrows raised in concern. I offered a weak smile and hung my head low.

My stomach churned as I cupped my mouth with my hands, swallowing hard to repress the urge to vomit. The classroom reeked of dill pickles and rubbing alcohol, and I moaned. Could this day get any worse? I had totally forgotten we were dissecting frogs this week, and my mouth filled with bile as the image of my aunt’s toad Merle danced in my mind. I swallowed hard against the rising nausea at the mental image of me dissecting the corpse of a helpless frog. The last thing I wanted was a dozen sets of eyes gawking at me while I mutilated a dead creature.

The teacher droned on about the upcoming dissection, and students were called one by one to the front to claim a dead frog. I ran my hands through my shaggy blonde hair before reaching for my phone. I needed a friend to commiserate with. A real friend, one who always made me feel better. Billie was a diehard animal lover. If anyone knew how to get out of dissecting a frog, it would be her.

Billie’s penetrating green eyes stared back at me as I looked at my screen saver. Her long, willowy arm was wrapped around my shoulder as we sat by Lake Cauldron, the sun setting behind us. It was a picture taken of our last day together before I had to leave my aunts’ house in Ambrosia Hill and return to the city with my mom.

My heart had broken the day I’d said goodbye to Billie. Even though Billie was not my girlfriend, my feelings for her were beyond platonic. The crush I’d tried to repress all summer long had exploded into full, deep feelings that I’d never imagined I could have at fourteen. But they were there, and I couldn’t deny that I liked Billie, thought of her every day and missed her even more than that. Even though we never spoke about any feelings for each other, I was confident she felt the same way, and I was eager to get back to her and confess my emotions face to face, like I should have before my mom and I had left Ambrosia Hill behind.

Liv attacked me, again.

I texted Billie, my thumbs flying over the screen.

And now Mr. Kurt has us dissecting amphibians.

I hit send on my phone with a sad face and frog emoji.

Billie replied immediately.

Tell Mr. Kill that dissecting a poor creature is against your religion, and you want to go to the library and do a report on the anatomy of a frog instead of brutally and inhumanely cutting open a dead corpse with a scalpel.

She sent an angry face emoji, then a gif that said, “Frogs are friends, not food,” with a pair of frog legs jumping off a table. At that moment, I missed her and her pet pig Bacon more than ever, almost as much as I yearned for my familiar kitten, Opal. I swallowed a lump that formed in the back of my throat and choked down my tears.

Billie was just getting started. I saw the three dots that indicated she was typing.

And tell Liv to go shove it. I hate that she bullies you! Don’t let her get to you, Zinnia! She’s just jealous you have the strength to be who you are. Her fake and bake tan butt could never be as strong as you.

I smiled at her text as I wiped a tear from my eye. Mr. Kurt called my name from beside the classroom’s freezer. Before I put my phone away, I saw one last message from Billie.

You’ll be back here with me before you know it, City Girl.

How I wish I were there now, I thought for the millionth time. Next summer seemed like an eternity away. I had begged my mom to move to Ambrosia Hill. After Dad had divorced her and moved away to Brazil, there was no reason for us to stay in the city.

“Dad’s gone, you’re not married anymore and our family and friends are in Ambrosia Hill. We belong with the aunts.” I had pleaded with her that morning before I left for school. Mom had only looked at me with a sympathetic face, the one universal to moms all over—the expression every mom has when their kid wants something they won’t give them. I loathed that look and wanted her to see things my way for once.

Because of her, I had to keep my identity a secret—no one in New York City could know that I came from a lineage of green witches. Over the summer, I had written my name in my own Book of Shadows and claimed my heritage as a hereditary witch. It angered me that my mom had forfeited her birthright to become a witch and instead chose to live a normal life. A normal life would never be available for me. Being fourteen, in high school, an openly gay girl and a witch? Well, that was an overload of baggage for one teen to handle on her own. What I needed most in my life was community, and my people were in Ambrosia Hill, not in the city attending high school at St. Hope’s.

“Zinnia.” My mother had sighed. “My career is in the city. I’ve worked too hard at the law firm to quit now.” Mom had tucked a strand of my blonde hair behind my ear as she inhaled a deep breath.

“But you could open your own private practice in Ambrosia Hill,” I had implored, “and do environmental work instead of tax law, which I know you hate.” I had wiggled my eyebrows at her, as if I were dangling a juicy worm as bait on a hook.

Mom had laughed as she shook her head. “You make everything seem so easy, Zinnia. Effortless, even.”

I had wrapped my arms around her neck, pressing my forehead to hers. “That’s because it can be, Mom. All we have to do is go. Let’s just pack up and go.” It was more of a plea than a request, and my voice had broken into a brittle whisper.

Mom had shaken her head, and I knew the answer was no. It was the same answer she had been giving me all through September and October since we’d returned to our small apartment, far away from my great aunts’ witchy house on Ambrosia Hill—my other home, my real home.

“It’s October, your favorite time of the year,” Mom had chirped, trying to distract me, but it didn’t work. Nothing cheered me up anymore. “How about we go to Autumn Week in Greenwich Village? I bet they will have cider and caramel apples. We can even get our pumpkins there and carve them later this evening.” Mom clapped her hands together, trying to convince me to muster up some enthusiasm for her plan. “We can watch a scary movie!” She pointed a finger in the air. “But not too scary. I will have nightmares without your…” Her words trailed off, and I knew what she was going to say. She missed my dad.

“Sure, Mom. Why not?” I had replied with a shrug as I slung my bookbag over my shoulder and drifted out of the front door for school.

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About the Author

Rebecca Henry

Rebecca Henry is an American author living abroad in England. She is a devoted vegan who gardens, practices yoga, crafts, travels the world, and bakes. Rebecca’s favorite holiday is Halloween, and she is obsessed with anything and everything witchy! Besides writing fiction, Rebecca is also the author of her vegan holiday cookbook collection. Her love for animals, baking with her family, having a plant-based diet and cruelty-free food all came together in her holiday cookbook collection.

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Screaming by Jayce Carter

Book 3 in the Larkwood Academy series

General Release Date: 22nd November 2022

Word Count:  92,780
Book Length: SUPER NOVEL
Pages: 337

GENRES:

CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
MÉNAGE AND MULTIPLE PARTNERS
PARANORMAL
REVERSE HAREM

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Book Description

Run or fight—I’m not the same frightened girl they silenced anymore.

I did it—I’m out. After a year imprisoned and tortured in Larkwood Academy, I’ve finally escaped, leaving destruction in my wake. Now that I understand what Larkwood is actually doing, now that I know just how deep their evil runs, they’ll stop at nothing to find me and keep me silent. Since getting locked up, I’ve wanted nothing more than to go back to my old life.

However, my old life, my old friends, don’t fit the way I remember…

With the men I’ve fallen for, Wade, Knox, Brax, Kit and Deacon, at my side, I struggle to figure out exactly where I belong. Should we run? Hide? Fight? Can I turn my back on everyone and everything I’ve come to care about over the last year for my own safety, or will the siren’s song of Larkwood Academy draw me back to my own destruction?

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of incarceration, violence and assault, as well as instances of inadequate parenting.

Excerpt

Hera

I might have escaped Larkwood, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that they were right behind me, that if I let my guard down for even a moment, they’d grab me again and drag me back to hell. Every sound, every person that passed, it all put me on edge.

“Here.” Knox made me jump when he caught my hand from behind and pressed something into my palm.

I glanced down to find a couple of folded twenties there. I frowned, then offered him a questioning glance.

“Don’t worry—I didn’t do anything weird to get it. I just used my powers to convince someone to hand over his wallet. Given the very nice sports car he was driving, I doubt he’ll miss it all that much.”

I let out a relieved breath. If it were Brax, I’d have worried he might have left a body behind. With Knox, a fear that he’d done something he hadn’t wanted to get the money had hit me. Hearing he hadn’t soothed my fears.

It had been nearly a week since we’d gotten out of Larkwood. The first trek through the open desert had been the worst, and we’d moved fast, pushing ourselves to our limits. Thankfully, with my hearing, I’d been able to identify helicopters and patrols before they got close. This was the second town we’d stopped at, since we hadn’t wanted to stay long in the first. We’d only remained in the first long enough to get a change of clothing.

We’d picked up some items from a thrift store, paying for it all with money Brax had—I sure didn’t ask him how he’d gotten it. It had left me in a baggy cable-knit sweater and jeans with large rips in them—far more casual than I’d been used to in my old life and yet not the clothing I’d had in my life at Larkwood.

Wade had found a pair of slacks and a long-sleeved shirt, Brax a large hoodie and jeans, and Knox wore a rather loud Hawaiian button-up short-sleeved shirt, a windbreaker and a pair of shorts that made him look like a surfer. We resembled hopeless fashion rejects, but at least we didn’t look like escaped prisoners. The long sleeves allowed us to hide our Larkwood bands as well.

I tossed food into my basket as Knox walked beside me, picking things with a good shelf life and plenty of calories. I had no idea what the future held, where we’d go, what we’d find there, which meant we needed to make the best out of what we could find when we got the chance.

I peered behind me, wondering where Brax and Wade had run off to. It was best for us not to be too close in public since a group of four brought more attention than a pair did, but I struggled not to worry when I couldn’t see them.

“They’re picking up some goods at the general store down the street,” Knox said. “I gave them some of the cash I’d gotten.”

I nodded to acknowledge the information, then reached for a pack of cookies from the shelf. They made me pause as I looked at them, the same brand that Brax and Wade had fought over in my room before.

“You sure we need those?”

I thought back to Larkwood, to the chaos we’d left behind. I remembered the way Wade had stood between me and the shades who had wanted to kill me. Next, I recalled Brax fully changed into his berserker form, blood dripping from his huge body, the way he’d taken out everything that risked me before he’d rumbled out “mine.”

We’d gone through so much, suffered so much pain to get us here. Cookies seemed a small price to pay.

Knox set his palm over mine, which made me realize my hand still hung in mid-air. He guided me back to drop the cookies into the basket while offering a kind smile. “Comfort food is important, right? In fact…” Knox pulled away and walked toward the end of the aisle for a moment. He plucked something from a shelf, then jogged back and tossed it into the basket.

I peered down to find a king-sized chocolate bar.

“You complained about the lack of chocolate before. I figured you deserved something nice, too.”

I couldn’t stop my smile, not just at the thought of tasting the candy but also at Knox’s sweetness.

Now is not the time to act all smitten.

We had bigger things to deal with than my feelings toward Knox.

“You haven’t been sleeping well,” Knox said, the words so unexpected I frowned at the change in topic.

I tucked the basket into the crook of my elbow so I could sign. “What?”

“You’ve been waking up from nightmares. Are you reliving what happened?”

I gulped but shook my head. “I’m tumbling into this endless void of darkness. It feels like I’m drowning, and no matter how I kick, I can’t reach the surface.” Even admitting the dreams that had plagued me every night made me shudder.

“Kit.”

That took me by surprise, and I jerked to a stop.

Knox, however, kept speaking as if the topic weren’t awkward at all. “Your bond with Kit. I’m going to guess he’s trying to reach you through it, and when you resist, that’s why you get that sinking feeling.”

“He wouldn’t hurt me like that.” I might not be certain of many things, but that I knew for sure.

“No, he wouldn’t on purpose, but he might not realize it’s causing you any distress. It might be like…being blindfolded and screaming for someone, not realizing they’re right next to you. He might be reaching for you but have no idea you can feel it.”

Now that sounded like the man I know. “What should I do?”

“Talk to him.” At my look, he laughed softly. “If Kit wants to find you, he can. You need your sleep, though, and you won’t get any if this keeps up. So talk to him.” After a moment, he added quietly, “You’ll probably feel better after checking in with him anyway.”

Which was true… Leaving the way I had without a real goodbye to either Kit or Deacon hurt. The memory of Deacon’s face, the way he’d stared at me as if I’d broken his heart, was almost as bad as the nightmares.

In fact, no matter how much I wanted to ignore it, the feeling encompassed more than just the two of them. I’d left so much back at Larkwood, so many people hurting. Why was I free when they had to stay there?

Instead of dwelling on it, I told myself that I’d brave that conversation when I fell asleep that night. I’d force myself to confront that darkness and Kit.

I owed him that much, didn’t I?

“Shit.” Knox’s curse took me off guard, pulling me from my little pep talk. He wasn’t the sort to swear much, and I hadn’t done anything to earn a reaction like that as far as I knew.

I pulled back enough to peer at his face, finding his gaze not on me but up and to the left.

I turned, my blood running cold when I realized what he stared at. On the television a breaking story ran, and above the newscaster’s shoulder? Knox’s, Wade’s and Brax’s faces stared back at me.

The words that ran along the bottom edge of the screen talked about the escape from Larkwood, though they only mentioned the other three. Nowhere did they imply a fourth person had participated.

Why doesn’t it include me?

“We should get going,” Knox said, his voice low. “You check out, and I’ll head next door to grab Wade and Brax. Meet us on the side of the building.”

After I nodded, he headed out, his face down. Thankfully, the three looked different enough in regular clothing than the sweats the pictures showed. Besides, most people ignored news reports like those, assuming that such things would never touch their lives.

I paid quickly, a gesture toward the large scar at my throat when the cashier had tried to strike up a conversation. My fingers ached from the heavy bags, but just as Knox had said, I found all three men around the side of the building.

And boy did Brax look angry. Still, the expression fit rather well on his face. In fact, if he really wanted to hide who he was, the best way would have probably been to smile. No one would recognize him like that.

Brax narrowed his eyes before swiping his hand out and taking the bags from me without asking. “No idea what you’re thinking, but I don’t like that smirk.”

I shrugged rather than admitting or denying anything.

“Looks like this might be our last family outing,” Wade said.

“Why wouldn’t they include Hera, though?” Brax asked.

“It has to be a ploy.” Knox pressed his lips together for a moment. “Maybe the Warden hopes that will get us stuck, that it’ll force her to act alone so guards can look for Hera?”

Maybe…though the more I thought about it, the less that made sense. “I think she doesn’t want it known I’m at Larkwood at all. She’s keeping it secret to leverage that information, which means she can’t admit I’m not there anymore. She probably can’t even tell my parents, because if she did, they’d stop helping her.” Even saying that hurt, making a deep spot inside my chest ache, the part that still craved a family.

Wade reached for me and entwined his gloved hand with mine, his tight grip reassuring.

His touch made his point loud and clear—whether or not my parents ever accepted me, I had people. No matter how hard it had been to lose my voice, it had taught me how much a person could say without ever speaking a word.

So I squeezed back as we headed off toward the empty store we’d broken into the night before to sleep at.

Things might look bad, and they might just get worse, but I wasn’t alone.

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About the Author

Jayce Carter

Jayce Carter lives in Southern California with her husband and two spawns. She originally wanted to take over the world but realized that would require wearing pants. This led her to choosing writing, a completely pants-free occupation. She has a fear of heights yet rock climbs for fun and enjoys making up excuses for not going out and socializing. You can learn more about her at her website.

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Demon’s Dance by Xenia Melzer

Book 3 in the Demon Mates series

General Release Date: 22nd November 2022

Word Count: 53,282
Book Length: NOVEL
Pages: 211

Genres:

ANGELS AND DEMONS
COMEDY AND HUMOUR
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
MÉNAGE AND MULTIPLE PARTNERS
PARANORMAL
WERESHIFTERS

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Book Description

Declan and Troy have been waiting for their mate patiently and with dignity… Hell, scratch that. They’ve been waiting forever—and nothing will stop them from keeping him.

When the only two uber alphas currently in existence finally find their gorgeous, submissive omega mate, life has to be perfect—right? Well, one out of three ain’t that bad, and Declan and Troy never wanted a submissive omega anyway.

Finding the right mating gift to impress their royal mate turns out to be a bit of a challenge, but the way they see it, that’s just an opportunity to show how perfectly suitable they are to be Alerion’s mates. If only the damn street tom would stop trying to make minced meat out of their arms.

Alerion is beyond happy to have found his mates—yes, mates, plural! He’s not entirely sure how to woo the two werewolf alphas, but for a demon who knows every dance in existence, nothing is impossible. Getting rid of all the doe-eyed, helpless and completely submissive omegas suddenly popping up in Beaconville like a rash after a rendezvous with poison ivy and claiming they need protection from the two uber alphas turns out to be a bit more complicated.

Between well-meaning friends and family and an interfering Shifter Council, their mating dance is anything but boring.

Excerpt

Alerion, King of all Demons, the Mighty Warrior, Defeater of the Unruly, was flat on his back somewhere in a clearing in Canada, trying to comprehend what had just happened. There had been two growls, the nuance less threatening and more possessive, then a dual “Ours”, followed by two muscular bodies barreling into him. As he had just been talking to his favorite son Sammy—although he had a feeling Jon would soon join Sammy on that pedestal—the attack had taken him by surprise.

It was hard to hear anything over the excessive sniffing taking place on both sides of his neck, but from what he could discern, people were rather more amused than worried. From somewhere, a “Well, fuck me sideways!” drifted to his ears, of no real consequence because the scent enveloping him—raspberries and cream with an undertone of cinnamon and clove—was way too pleasant to be thinking about anything else. The declarations of “Mate!”, “Ours!” and “Claim!” left him in no doubt as to what was happening.

I’m so lucky my mates are shifters! Otherwise, it would be the same back and forth that his sons Dre and Barion had had with their mates, and Alerion knew he could do without that drama in his life. In fact, ruling all demonkind was a drama in and of itself, which was why he tried to avoid it in all other aspects of his life—not that there was so much going on aside from cowing unruly demons and patiently explaining for the three-millionth time how nobody was as sturdy as a demon and, therefore, playing with other species—humans in particular—was forbidden. Nobody could accuse demons of being quick on the uptake.

“Uhm, Declan? Troy? Could you perhaps let Dad up?” Of course it was Sammy, the best son-in-law a demon king could wish for, who tried to end the spectacle. Alerion was of two minds about the sniffing ending because yes, getting to see his mates would be nice, no doubt, but on the other hand, it was also very nice to be so close to them.

“I’m not sure they can hear you, Sammy dear.” One of the witches…Mavis or Maribell. Alerion didn’t know them well enough to identify them by voice alone.

“Why do I have the sudden urge to bare my neck?” Jon, on the other hand, was easy to pick out.

“You’re not baring your neck to anybody but me.” Barion, growling like a lion defending a fresh kill.

“I didn’t say I would do it—just that I have the feeling I should.” Jon sounded part wounded, part soothing.

“What are we baring and why? Is this some custom nobody has told me about?” Amber, the banshee, Alerion thought. Her voice was quite distinctive, the screech to warn heroes of their impending death always present as an undertone. Most people couldn’t discern it and just found Banshees’ voices a bit unnerving, but Alerion wasn’t most people.

“Well, I’m always up for a little baring of body parts.” That voice sounded adventurous. It had to be Corrywin’s mate, Jon’s Grann, the Voodoo priestess. Interesting woman and a perfect fit for his restless uncle.

“As much as I love all your body parts, ma chere, I think we should be helping Alerion first.” Corrywin, helpful as always…not.

“I thought we had to get naked?” Amber again.

“Nobody is baring anything!” Dre, his second oldest son, the lucky bastard who’d snatched Sammy.

“Can somebody explain to me what’s going on?” Judging from the harmonious sound, it had to be Emilia, the vampire. Alerion liked her because she was very down-to-earth, despite her royal ancestry.

“It’s simple, dear,” one of the witches said. “Declan and Troy have finally found their third, and in their exuberance, they have forgotten not only their manners but also to shield their auras, which can be overwhelming, since they are uber alphas—hence the urge to show submission. Declan! Troy! Stop with the sniffing and get up. Your mate must be uncomfortable with both of you pinning him down.”

The last sentences were said with a scolding undertone of ‘bad boys!’, which caused the sniffing to stop. Alerion bemoaned this for about half a second before he realized he was now free to admire his mates.

“What’s an uber alpha?” Sammy again, always eager to learn. What a smart son he had gained!

Once more, it was one of the witches answering. “Uber alphas are very rare. The last one was born some two hundred and fifty years ago. They are so powerful all shifters immediately unite under them, which inevitably leads to bloody war. One prime example is Napoleon Bonaparte, the French emperor. He was the last uber alpha we knew of until Declan and Troy came along.”

“Wow. Are you planning to do that any time soon? It’s just that war is such a waste of lives and time.” Sammy was addressing Alerion’s mates, who had lifted their heads enough to stare at Sammy, which in turn gave Alerion a wonderful view of their breathtaking profiles. One of them was blond, the other’s hair a rich dark brown. Their noses were sharp, their jaws like carved marble and their skin flawless perfection.

“Sammy, we’re having a moment here!” the blond whined, his hands still resting on Alerion’s chest, which he didn’t mind at all.

“I can see that, Declan, but you have to admit that impending war is kind of a serious topic.”

So, his blond mate was Declan—which meant the dark-haired one had to be Troy, who was the next to speak. “Sammy, how long do you know us? Three years? Four? Have you ever gotten the impression we would strive for world domination?”

Through the space between his mates’ faces, Alerion could see Sammy furrowing his brows. My son is a such a thinker! And my mates are so gorgeous!

“Well, you’re certainly rich enough to buy large parts of it,” Emilia said matter-of-factly.

“Says the vampire with the very old money,” Amber said, winking.

“So you don’t want to wage bloody war?” Sammy sounded so happy.

“No.” Declan sighed. “We don’t like messes, remember?”

“Uh, almost forgot that. Well, a battlefield certainly isn’t the place for somebody who dusts the undersides of their windowsills.” Emilia grinned. “A trait I deeply admire.”

“Because you completely lack it?” Troy raised the brow Alerion could see from his place on the ground. It almost made him swoon. So beautiful.

“I guess a battlefield is kind of messy—and unsanitary.” Jon seemed to be deep in thought.

“If you wanted to conquer the world, you would tell us, wouldn’t you?” Amber sounded suspicious.

“Nobody is conquering anything—or waging bloody war or buying the world! All Declan and I want is to get our mate somewhere quiet with a nice big bed—emphasis on quiet. If you would excuse us?” Troy gracefully got up, offering Alerion his hand. Declan was on his feet as well, staring at Alerion as if he were a bloody steak and Declan was starved. It was nice to be looked at with such hunger. Alerion felt his cock, which had been hard since the moment his mates had tackled him to the ground, twitching.

“Yes, I think a quiet place would be nice. How about we visit my little cabin in Whitewater where we can…proceed.” Alerion had tried for subtlety and obviously failed spectacularly, given how everybody gathered around them was snickering. The two witches, Mavis and Maribell, seemed to have their own little film going on in their heads while Grann was shamelessly making out with Corrywin. Sammy stared at them with big eyes—he was still so innocent, bless his sweetness—while Jon smiled at them encouragingly.

“Yes, let’s proceed.” Troy winked.

Both alphas were still holding Alerion’s hands, and he tried to decide which one he should let go of to slice space and time when Dre stepped forward with a long-suffering sigh and solved this terrible conundrum by doing the slicing for him—he, too, was a good son and had brought Sammy into the family after all—and nodded at him. “Have fun, Dad. And congratulations. Declan, Troy, congratulations to you as well. If you hurt my dad—”

“Yeah, yeah, you will do to us what we will do to you and Barion if you hurt Sammy or Jon.” Declan was already stepping toward the slice.

“I just wanted to have it out in the open.”

“It is. Bye. Enjoy the party.” Troy was following his mate, tugging Alerion along. He knew his smile had to be showing all his teeth, but he was on his way to mate with the two most gorgeous creatures that had ever lived!

“Dre, thank you. Barion, Jon, I’m sorry I’m leaving so soon. I’m going to invite you to dinner. Promise. Sammy, don’t worry.”

They all waved, Jon saying something along the lines of “Finding your mate is the most important thing!” while Sammy was furiously wiping away his tears and simultaneously smiling so hard that his cheeks had to hurt.

“Congratulations, Dad, and have fun! You too, Declan, Troy.”

“See you next Wednesday!”

Alerion stepped into the slice in space still holding the hands of both his mates. This day was certainly one to be remembered.

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About the Author

Xenia Melzer

Xenia Melzer was born and raised in a small village in the South of Bavaria. As one of nature’s true chocoholics, she’s always in search of the perfect chocolate experience. So far, she’s had about a dozen truly remarkable ones. Despite having been in close proximity to the mountains all her life, she has never understood why so many people think snow sports are fun. There are neither chocolate nor horses involved and it’s cold by definition, so where’s the sense? She does not like beer either and has never been to the Oktoberfest – no quality chocolate there.

Even though her mind is preoccupied with various stories most of the time, Xenia has managed to get through school and university with surprisingly good grades. Right after school she met her one true love who showed her that reality is capable of producing some truly amazing love stories itself.

While she was having her two children, she started writing down the most persistent stories in her head as a way of relieving mommy-related stress symptoms. As it turned out, the stress-relief has now become a source of the same, albeit a positive one.

When she’s not writing, she translates the stories of other authors into German, enjoys riding and running, spending time with her kids, and dancing with her husband. If you want to contact her, please visit either her website, or write her an email.

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Repentance and Absolution by AE Lister

Book 2 in the Northern Horizons series

General Release Date: 15th November 2022

Word Count:  79,930
Book Length: SUPER NOVEL
Pages: 299

Genres:

ACTION AND ADVENTURE
BONDAGE AND BDSM
COWBOYS AND WESTERN
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
HISTORICAL

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Book Description

You can’t take back your sins. You can only hope for forgiveness.

Jimmy Downing traveled seven hundred sixty difficult and dangerous miles to bring Oscar Yates to Port Essington to find his uncle. When Jimmy saw the abandoned homestead Oscar had inherited, he envisioned a future for them there, as long as they could keep the true nature of their relationship a secret. But once the initial work is complete and they have a cozy living space and a stable for the livestock, Oscar and Jimmy face a long winter dealing with thoughts that have time and space to plague them.

Jimmy suffers nightmares of dark deeds committed in his past, while Oscar deals with trauma from his time in Dawson and his mistreatment at the hands of Spook. A new horse provides a distraction for Oscar and leads to new friendships and a break from their solitary existence, but a dangerous encounter exposes surprising truths about their nearest neighbors and a sense that their lives are being guided by forces outside their control.

Excerpt

Oscar was gone, and I couldn’t find him.

The brush surrounding the new homestead—if that’s what you could even call it—grew dense and completely impenetrable in some spots. A fella could easily get lost, especially a city fella who couldn’t tell an oak from a birch and fell o’er his own outsized feet on occasion. There were wolves in these parts that could kill a man Oscar’s size in an instant—not to mention the bears, coyotes and panthers.

I’d told him time and again not to go wandering around without me, to stay near the ramshackle rooms we were fixing up and not to go looking for whatever he thought he wanted to see.

The kid was trouble. Had been since I’d first laid eyes on him, back in Dawson City, and there wasn’t any way of taming him, much as I’d tried. I supposed, when it came down to it, I didn’t want to tame him any more than I’d wanted to smother the fire that kept us both warm at night and reared up inside me when he looked at me the way he did. He’d nigh burned me with a primal passion that I was still trying to control—or at least understand. It still didn’t make no sense how the two of us came together like we did. But there was no turning back now.

“Oscar!” I shouted into the trees, trying to see my way and take heed of any movement ahead of me. I’d searched all around the sorry excuse for a house that he’d inherited from his dead uncle, and he was nowhere to be found. So now, I headed into the brush toward the creek. I’d already checked the well and he wasn’t there, neither fallen into it nor trying to get water up for a drink. I didn’t know where he was, and I was beginning to panic.

“Oscar! D’you hear me? Get back here right now or I’m gonna tan your pretty hide so bad you won’t be going anywhere for a week!”

As I stepped past a big boulder, something caught my eye. T’was the peacock-blue frayed edge of a shawl, and I stopped in my tracks when I saw a familiar person standing there, looking off into the distance.

“Cal? Is that you?” I said.

But it couldn’t be Cal. Cal was back in Telegraph Creek, whispering scandalous things into the ears of men who paid for her time and attention. The person wearing the shawl turned with a languorous ease and smiled at me. T’was Cal sure enough, even though it couldn’t possibly be.

“Jimmy! My, I’d almost forgotten how handsome you were.”

I blushed, taking off my hat and giving her a puzzled look. “What’re you doing here? How did you get here?”

Cal simply smiled, the dimple in her cheek on the opposite side to Oscar’s. “Has that naughty boy wandered off again?”

She’d rouged and painted her face till there was no sign of the handsome boy underneath, the boy who was a girl for all intents and purposes, except for the tackle between her legs.

“Yes, he has,” I said. “And I’m gonna haul him o’er my knee when I find him.”

Cal laughed and pursed her lips. “Oh, I don’t think he minds that, do you?”

“He’ll mind it this time,” I promised. “And he’ll mind me.”

No matter what games we liked to play involving my hand on his behind, giving him a pretend walloping for being a brat, I’d give it to him this time—like I had once before when he’d wandered off and scared me half to death.

“You know which way he went?” I asked Cal, since I had nothing else to go by.

“There,” Cal said, pointing through the brush. “I heard a gunshot by the river.”

My blood went cold. Fuck. God only knew what he’d wandered into, and for a goddamn second, I almost fell to my knees.

In a moment I’d moved past Cal and I was running, tearing through the brush toward the river, terrified of what I’d find. The crack of a rifle pierced the silence, and it echoed for long minutes as my breaths ripped through my chest.

When I found him, if he hadn’t been shot or eaten by wolves, I was gonna kill him.

Just as I reached the edge of the brush, where it opened up onto the river, another shot echoed through the trees and I opened my eyes, gasping huge gulps of air and blinking at the darkness.

“Hey, hey, shhhh, it’s okay. It’s a nightmare. You’re dreamin’.”

Oscar’s shadow loomed above me in the darkness of the room that was barely a room—just a space with four walls and a fireplace, the fire banked now but the coals glowing red.

I grabbed him and pulled him down to me, hugging him so fierce that he squirmed and protested.

“Stop. You’re hurtin’ me. I can’t breathe.”

I loosened my hold a little so he wouldn’t try to get away, but t’was hard not to keep him in a death grip after that god-awful dream.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” he said, clutching my shoulders.

“I couldn’t find you,” I whispered, my heart beating a drum in my chest. “I couldn’t find you.” I was breathless, even though I’d not left my bed.

“I was right here—right here in this bed beside you, all night long.”

I nodded against him, keeping him close to prove to myself he was here and he was all right—and so was I. His hair smelled of wood smoke and sweat, and I reckoned we could both use a wash.

“You need a bath,” I murmured, kissing him under his ear where it smelled of his own special musk that I loved.

He snorted. “So do you. I reckon we oughta change into fresh underwear, too, and wash these ones.”

I slid a hand under the blankets, popping the buttons of the flap of his union suit so’s I could skate my palm o’er the swell of his ass, making him squirm in a delicious way, his small, stiff cock pressing against me.

“Well, dammit, it sure is you, Oscar. No one else has a nubby so small and sweet what wants to pretend to be big enough to cause any mischief,” I said, teasing him the way he liked to be teased, so that he felt dainty and delicate and half the man I was. It had seemed strange at first and like he should be offended by that kind of talk. But he loved it, and that was a fact. And I didn’t question it at all no more.

Sure enough, he groaned and pressed his fingertips into my shoulders, rutting against me like a dog.

“Goddammit. What were you dreamin’ about? You were sayin’ my name then you said Cal. Was it scandalous?”

“No. T’was terrifyin’. You were lost, and I couldn’t find you.”

He pressed against me, his nubby rubbing against my thigh through the fabric of his union suit. We’d bought the sets of red flannel underwear when the weather turned right cold at the start of November. Guess we’d had enough of freezing our asses off on our journey and we wanted to be warm, even if it meant looking ridiculous. “Well, you did, didn’t you? You found me good, since I was right here all along.”

“That’s a fact. Thank the Lord,” I murmured, turning his face to mine and finding his lips in the darkness. He opened to me in that sweet way he had of assuring me there weren’t nothing I couldn’t do that he wouldn’t want, as far as any intimacy with his body went. We’d nigh explored every damned inch of each other by now, and I never could get enough of him. I wasn’t sure I ever would.

I pulled away from his mouth and nuzzled into his neck, just to sniff that scent of him I was so fond of. “I’m just so relieved you’re here and t’was all a dream.”

He relaxed into me and offered his long neck for my kisses and for me to run my nose along. The bit of stubble there did something to ignite me, and I lapped my tongue o’er his Adam’s apple, then bit it gently.

“Oh. Jimmy. Hell,” Oscar breathed. “It ain’t even dawn yet, and you wanna keep me awake?” He yawned.

“I’m sorry. Never mind. Just cuddle under these here covers with me. I need to know I got you.”

Oscar stifled another broad yawn. “You got me, all right, in every sense of that word. You prob’ly won’t want me after a few more months. I’m already a nuisance most of the time, ain’t I?”

I didn’t know if he was playing up being a brat or if he truly thought he was a nuisance.

“No, you’re just— My ma used to call it restlessness, when I couldn’t sit still. Said I’d grow out of it, and I guess I did.”

“Yeah? What if I never grow out of it, huh? What if I’ll always be like this?” Oscar said, snuggling into me, wiggling his ass, even though he’d just told me he wanted to sleep.

“Keep still. I’m tryin’ to go back to sleep, and you ain’t helpin’.”

“What if I’m always this restless?” he asked again in a whisper. “Will you still love me?”

I laughed. He was all that and more, this twenty-one-year-old man-child.

“I reckon I will. Can’t seem to help it,” I grumbled, as if me loving Oscar was an inconvenience rather than the miracle of a lifetime that had been wasted with broken men.

“Good,” he said, laying his head down on the feather pillow. “I reckon I’ll still love you, too.”

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About the Author

AE Lister

AE Lister/Elizabeth Lister is a Canadian non-binary author with a vivid imagination and a head full of unique and interesting characters. They have published 10 books, one of which received an Honorable Mention from the National Leather Association – International for excellence in SM/Leather/Fetish writing.

“Sensual and visceral BDSM.” – Amazon.ca

Find out more about AE Lister at their website, and follow them on Instagram and Patreon.

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