Trouble With Cats by Angela Addams

General Release Date: 18th October 2022

Word Count: 68,021
Book Length: NOVEL
Pages: 269

Genres:

 ACTION AND ADVENTURE
ANGELS AND DEMONS
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
MÉNAGE AND MULTIPLE PARTNERS
PARANORMAL
REVERSE HAREM
WERESHIFTERS

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Book Description

She must fight to save the kingdom that turned its back on her alongside the shifters who torture her heart.

She was accused of a crime she didn’t commit, betrayed by the shifters she loved with her whole heart and soul and now her life depends on saving the kingdom that turned its back on her.

Crimson might have spent the last year pretending that her banishment from the Court of Shade has been a blessing, giving her time to chill with her devoted familiars, but the reality is it’s a punishment—one she doesn’t deserve, for a crime she didn’t commit. Condemned for the disappearance of the former queens, Crimson and her familiars were cast out of Shade with no investigation and no proof.

With the sudden untimely death of one of the new queens and a handful of familiars, Crimson learns that the Kingdom of Shade is under attack by a witch named Angelica, and her wild cats are causing havoc, destruction and death throughout the land.

Crimson’s old loves, Jaggar and Zephyr, insist that the queens are hiding something dark and evil, and that Crimson must rise and become the witch she was meant to be. To do that, she must take their familiar marks, but bonding with them is the last thing she’ll ever agree to do. Crimson has a plan of her own to seat herself on the royal dais, but to achieve her goals, she’s going to have to set aside her anger, reach deep to find the strength, the forgiveness and even the love she’ll need to triumph over evil once and for all.

Publisher’s Note: This book is a sequel to Must Love Cats.

Excerpt

Crimson had picked her hiding place carefully—downwind, in the shadows and under a heaping arch of brush, deep in the forest where she knew at least one of her stalkers wouldn’t find her. The advantage of being on foot was that she could slip quickly under the trees’ canopy, obscuring the eagle-eyed vision of Talon, whose shrill cry overhead made her smirk. He was frustrated, to be sure. This game had gone on longer than he’d wanted.

The echoing crack of a branch underfoot had her crouching lower, her breath barely there as she reined in the urge to bolt. A predatory snort, closer than she’d like, had her heart pounding so thunderously that she was sure she’d give herself up any second.

Unlike the eagle shifter, in his wolf form, Valor would have no trouble hunting her at ground level. The only thing she had going for her was her head start and how easily she’d wedged herself under the protection of the piled branches. If she was lucky, he wouldn’t be able to pick up her scent.

With the way she was sweating, though, she’d probably need to shift to plan B shortly.

Another snort, another twig creaking. Normally he wouldn’t be so noisy, but she guessed he wanted her to know he was near. He wanted her to know that her little game was becoming tedious and that she would pay, one way or another. Still she hunkered down, holding her breath now that he was so close, determined to win this round, at least. Through the thicket, a flash of gray fur strode by—so leisurely, so assured. As an apex predator in Shade, he was monstrously large, as were all the familiars, but Valor also had an air of sophistication along with his brute force, as though he were a king among his kind, even when he, along with Crimson and Talon, was an outcast.

She loved that about him.

Crimson’s lungs, pushed to their limit of air deprivation, wheezed out a short gasp through her clenched lips. She froze, scanning the small area in her line of sight. It was hardly a sound, and yet…

The ground beneath her shook with the thundering approach of Valor. She had an easy escape route, but she waited, pushing down the instinct to get out and run. She didn’t know which direction he was coming from, but she knew it was only a matter of time before—

The stacked branches around her creaked and groaned, threatening to collapse with her underneath as Valor pounced on top of her hiding spot. She rolled to the side and briefly made eye contact with the beast. His cunning brown gaze shone with triumph.

Not yet, wolfie. Not yet.

He shoved his snout between two branches and wedged one paw, claws out, through the wood. Crimson grinned.

“Gotcha.” She kicked as hard as she could, and as the entire structure began to fall, entangling the wolf in an avalanche of debris, she rolled out of the way, clearing the mess before Valor even knew what had happened. She was on her feet, bolting to the tree line, keeping her snickers contained as much as she could as she listened to Valor’s grunts and huffs behind her. He was too big to get out of the disaster of branches gracefully.

The barn was a short distance from the forest—the closest point of safety—which was why she’d chosen the hiding spot she had. She paused only briefly to look up at the sky. The summer sun was at its peak, beating down relentlessly, despite the veil of fog that Crimson had built around her safe haven. She scanned the skies again but there was no sign of Talon. Almost out of breath, her chest heaving, she made a dash for it, pumping her legs as hard as she could. All she needed was two minutes. Two minutes and she’d win.

Talon’s screech sounded like fury itself, and Crimson dug deep, pushing harder toward her goal.

Fifty feet.

Forty.

Thirty.

She dared not look up or behind. She didn’t need to anyway, because she felt the predators closing in. They were at her heels and above her head.

Twenty feet remaining.

She would make it this time.

She would—

One foot landed wrong, and instead of touching the wood of the barn, she face-planted right into the grass.

Oof!

Dirt rammed against her face and embedded into her hair. Bits of grass flew up her nose. She coughed and sneezed, too disoriented and out of breath to do much more than accept defeat.

Valor howled seconds before skidding over her, his giant paws caging her head while the rest of him pressed into her body. She pushed herself up—or tried to, anyway—just as Talon landed, his claws digging into the ground in front of her. Valor shoved her down with his snout between her shoulder blades. Talen dropped rope with two loops for her wrists in front of her face.

“Yeah, yeah.” She spat dirt then slipped her hands through the loops.

Valor prodded her roughly, giving her enough space so she could flip over. He was grinning like a crazy wolf, his fangs bared and muzzle scrunched.

“Rub it in, why don’t you?”

The rope loops tightened as Talon took flight, the force of his ascent whipping her to her feet in seconds. She stumbled backward until her shoulders pressed against the wall of the barn, her toes barely touching the ground. The rope pulled taut, letting her know that Talon had secured her. She was trapped and at the mercy of her familiars…again. Talon’s cry sounded like victory. She looked up to see him circle above, letting her know what she had coming.

She kept losing this game. On purpose? No, she was too competitive for that, and yet, something always seemed to cause her to trip up at the last minute.

“You’re a terrible hider, Crimson.” Valor’s voice rumbled like thunder, forcing her attention to him.

She pulled her gaze from Talon to see that Valor was fully clothed still, which was hardly like him at a time like this. All the same, the tight breeches he liked to wear left very little to the imagination—not that she minded. She enjoyed seeing how aroused her men got, even if it was hidden behind their clothes temporarily. His loose-fitting shirt was unbuttoned enough to give her a glimpse of the dark curls of chest hair that she loved feeling pressed against her skin, roughly warming her with every thrust. He ran his fingers through his hair, then shook the curls out, a gesture that made him look like he had no cares in the world when they both knew he was dying to fuck her silly.

She knew this for certain because her men always wanted to fuck her silly, but also because his cock strained against his pants like it was ready to burst out on its own.

What she wouldn’t give to swallow him whole. To taste his cum. To lick his balls.

She squirmed, lust pooling in her every erogenous zone.

“Growing impatient, darling?” Talon spoke as he shifted, a unique talent that few familiars had.

“A taste of her own medicine, I’d say,” Valor added.

“You two wouldn’t have caught me if I hadn’t stumbled.” Crimson tugged on the ropes, even though she knew it was pointless. She could use her power to get herself out of the bindings at any time but where was the fun in that?

“Stumbled?” Valor laughed. “Is that what that was?”

“Looked more like eating dirt to me.” Talon swooped in to run his fingers over her cheek, his golden eyes sparkling. “In fact, you’ve got some grass right here.”

She flicked her cheek to the side in a vain attempt to shift away from him. He gripped her chin in response and yanked her face toward him again, all playfulness gone from his eyes. “Now, now, Crimson, no need to be a sore loser.”

“I’m not a sore—”

He cut off her words with a kiss—a demanding, tongue-probing, toe-curling kiss. She melted. How could she not? Talon was not only a fierce protector and loyal familiar, but he loved her and made sure she knew it in every imitate moment they shared.

He released her too soon, turning her chin to the side. Her protest was cut short by Valor and his teasing kiss—a nip on her bottom lip, a soothing lick, then a leisurely stroking that incinerated her every last urge to resist.

Why would she, anyway? This was what she wanted—to be bound and at the mercy of her men.

Talon draped a rough swath of fabric over her eyes then tied it so tightly behind her head that she gasped. Valor nipped her bottom lip one last time before pulling away. She tugged on her arms as if she could coax him back with a touch, but the binding was too strong for her to move more than an inch away from the wall, so she only managed to make herself sway. Someone tugged another piece of cloth over her mouth, slipping it between her lips so that her jaw was wedged slightly open and her lips pulled taut.

She’d put her war gear on for their game, which meant the men had to navigate a series of buttons and hooks to unravel the layers of skintight fabric that wrapped around Crimson’s body. Hardly a challenge for these two.

They had her stripped bare in a matter of moments. The sun’s heat beat down on her exposed skin so she was slick with sweat. A wisp of a breeze, full of grass and dirt and the heady scent of her familiars’ arousal was like a balm, making her nipples harden to the point of aching need. She loved fucking these men in the middle of the day, outside, without a care as to who might see.

Not that anyone visited their little hideaway. They’d all been banished a year ago, forgotten by the court in place of a death sentence for a crime she hadn’t committed.

It was meant to be a punishment, but really it was a blessing—peace, quiet, the never-ending roll of days with nothing to do.

At least, that’s what she told herself.

Hands cupped her breasts. Fingers splayed her pussy lips. A tongue traced the side of her neck. Sensations of exquisite torture, teasing touches, barely-there kisses… Someone hauled her ass up with strong hands, cupping her cheeks. Hot breath cascaded over her clit.

Anticipation made her squirm.

Desire and need coiled deep inside her core, every muscle tight, waiting for release.

Someone covered her nipple with hot, wet heat and a flickering tongue. Someone squeezed her other breast to the point of pain. Her men both had large hands and big mouths, wide enough to envelop her tits almost completely, which made it impossible to know who was playing with what. But that didn’t matter, because her body was on fire. Every nerve-ending jolted as her lust wound around the pinnacle of release.

A flick of her clit made her moan behind the gag. The hands on her ass hoisted her higher, a feast on display as thumbs yanked her pussy open wider. A strong, determined tongue roughly licked her from top to bottom so that rolling waves of nearly unbearable pleasure made her whimper and groan. Finally, lips latched onto her clit with force and huge fingers thrust inside, seeking that special rhythm so that the bud of her G-spot roared to life.

Featherlight kisses just below her earlobe made her shiver.

Relentless pounding of thick fingers in her pussy made her gasp.

The coil of her climax tightened with each nip and flick and suck of her nipples.

She writhed and swayed and desperately wanted to pull away from the intensity, but instead her body pleaded for moremoremore.

When her orgasm crested, it was a rising peak that seemed to stretch beyond the sky. She held back for as long as she could, reveling in the waves of power that built it higher and higher. Her breath caught. Her body froze. She was on the edge with a sheer drop seconds away.

One more flick.

One more suck.

One more kiss.

She arched into the dive, her body contorting and rolling and spasming. Her synapses fired all at once then short-circuited with the bombardment of sensations. Light exploded behind her eyes as she rode the wave through every pulse-pounding, pussy-quivering second of it.

Her men didn’t let her go—not even when her legs shook, not even when she moaned from the pit of her desire. They were relentless, caressing every tiny bit of pleasure out of her until she was limp, out of breath and complete putty.

Someone untied her arms so she could collapse properly into his arms. By the way he kissed her, so sweetly, she knew it was Talon who cradled her. It was Valor, then, who undid the gag, then the blindfold. She kept her eyes closed to protect against the blinding sun.

“Time for a bath, Crimson. You’re a mess.” Talon’s voice was a gruff command. No debate. He loved to bathe her, and she loved the way he worshipped her body, so he’d get no resistance from her—not that she could move of her own volition right now anyway.

She blinked her eyes open to smile at Valor, who was only a step behind her.

She expected to see the cocky smirk of a job well done, so when his beautiful face twisted into a pain-filled grimace, Crimson jolted and a knot tightened in her gut.

Talon’s next step landed wrong, and instead of carrying her forward, he began to fall. He curled himself around her body, clearly trying to protect her from hitting the ground, even though his arms shook and tears streamed from his eyes. He rolled so she landed on top of him, bearing the brunt of a hard landing on his shoulders and back.

“What’s wrong?” Crimson split her attention between her familiars.

Valor clenched his chest, like his heart was about to burst from his flesh. She felt Talon’s body vibrating beneath her fingers, his pulse probably racing at the same pace as Valor’s.

Valor’s eyes flashed between wolf and human, taking on a predatory gleam as he struggled to stop himself from shifting.

She moved off Talon’s body just as he contorted then rolled into a ball, holding his gut, moaning in obvious agony.

“Something’s wrong—” Valor sputtered. “Can’t keep hold—”

“No shit!” Crimson grounded herself, connecting with the natural magic of the earth while at the same time yanking her magic from its resting place. Her familiar marks flared in hues of red, coursing power from her toes to her scalp. She put one hand on Valor, one on Talon, hoping to tap into whatever was causing them pain so she could obliterate it. As soon as she laid her hands on them, she flew back like she’d touched a lightning bolt. Searing pain roared through her body, tearing over her from sternum to groin. It felt like her head was splitting, her limbs ripping from their sockets…

Death. Death was all around them…in them, taking violently from somewhere. Echoed screams ricocheted through her conscious mind, and she knew… She just knew.

My sister…one of three witches in the Court of Shade—a triad that maintained balance in their world. My sister is dead.

“Aria—” Crimson gasped.

Talon, now in his eagle form, took flight with a screeching wail. Valor, now a wolf, limped toward her.

They’d been forced to shift, and the only thing that could do that was the death of one of their own. A Brother of Shade had died and so had her sister.

Their sanctuary. Their blessing. It all shattered.

Crimson didn’t know who the enemy was, but she knew her peaceful days were over.

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About the Author

Angela Addams

Angela Addams is an author of many naughty things. She believes that the written word is an amazing tool for crafting the most erotic of scenarios and likes telling stories about normal people getting down and dirty and falling in love. Enthralled by the paranormal at an early age, Angela also spends a lot of her time thinking up new story ideas that involve supernatural creatures in everyday situations.

She is an avid tattoo collector, a total book hoarder, and loves anything covered in chocolate…except for bugs.

She lives in Ontario, Canada in an old, creaky house, with her husband, children and four moody cats.

Sign up to Angela’s newsletter and check out her blog and website. You can follow Angela on Instagram and Pinterest, and find her at Amazon, Bookbub and Books & Main.

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Terribly Tristan by Lisa Henry & Sarah Honey

Book 3 in the Bad Boyfriends, Inc. series

General Release Date: 18th October 2022

Word Count: 62,357
Book Length: NOVEL
Pages: 246

Genres:

COMEDY AND HUMOUR
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
FAKE RELATIONSHIPS
GAY
GLBTQI

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Book Description

One and done has always been the rule—so what happens when once isn’t enough?

Leo Fisher is the outward picture of respectability, just like his parents raised him to be. But when he inherits a crumbling terrace house from his great-uncle, he also inherits a tenant who turns his world upside down. Tristan is brazen, gorgeous, experienced and utterly fabulous. He’s everything Leo is not—so why is Leo drawn to him? Leo has always made the right choices—the sensible choices—yet here he is, hooking up with his tenant, who’s a rent boy.

Tristan Montague is not a rent boy. Not exactly. He’s a Bad Boyfriend. For a fee, he’ll turn any date into the kind of disaster that will have his client’s unsuspecting parents begging them to date anyone but him. Boyfriending for cash is fun—but for real? No thanks. As far as Tristan is concerned, there are far too many flowers in the garden of love to settle on just one bloom. Instead, he flits happily from lover to lover like a glorious gay butterfly, and he doesn’t do repeats.

Except when he meets his cute, awkward landlord Leo, Tristan finds himself rethinking his ‘no repeats’ rule. He plans to show Leo that he, too, can be a glorious gay butterfly, but when physical attraction becomes something deeper, Tristan realizes he might be ready to hang up his wings and date…for real.

But in order for Leo to take a stand against his overbearing parents, Tristan will need to play the Bad Boyfriend one last time—and it’s going to have to be spectacular.

Reader advisory: This book contains instances of homophobia, and the death of a minor character.

Excerpt

On an otherwise unremarkable Saturday morning, Tristan Montague was woken by a hard pounding. And not the sort he liked. The sort he liked, he realised as he unglued his eyelids, wouldn’t be forthcoming at all—last night’s hook-up was still crashed out beside him flat on his back, with his mouth open as he snored. This pounding, unfortunately, was coming from his bedroom door.

“Wha?” Tristan grizzled. The house had better be on fire, seriously, because it was only—he flopped an arm out, fingers searching for his phone on his nightstand—11.37 a.m. That was inhumane for a Saturday. Unless it was Sunday—but no, it would be just as inhumane for a Sunday.

The pounding on his door continued.

Tristan rolled out of bed and shuffled to his door. He pulled it open and glared at Harry, his housemate.

“Tristan!” Harry exclaimed, then his wide-eyed gaze travelled down Tristan’s naked body and back again. By the time it returned to his face, Harry was bright pink in that adorkable way that made Tristan want to ruffle his hair, pinch his cheeks and possibly rail him over the back of the couch into next week. Harry was out of bounds, though. Not only was he like the awkward little brother Tristan had never had, but Harry was also stupidly in love with Jack, their other housemate. They gave each other such heart eyes over breakfast each morning that Tristan half expected the local wildlife to burst into song every time, Disney-style. The local wildlife, in their case, being the mice infesting the walls and the huntsman spider that lived in the shower. “Tristan, you’re naked!”

There wasn’t really anything Tristan could say to that, so he nodded and waved his hand in front of himself like a showcase model on a television game show.

Harry’s blush extended all the way up to his glasses. “Like, really, all the way, naked.”

He sighed. “Did you wake me up just to tell me that?”

Harry blinked at him. “No! I woke you up to tell you that Mr. Erskine is dead!”

“Oh.” Tristan felt a moment of actual regret. Their landlord was at least six hundred years old, and batshit crazy in the best possible way. He loved to drop in and collect the rent money from the Milo tin in the kitchen, then spend hours regaling Tristan with stories of the Cross back in the seventies. And Tristan loved listening, because Kings Cross back in the day had been wild. “I thought the Milo tin was getting full.”

“I thought he’d just forgotten to collect the rent.”

Tristan sighed again. “Wow. That really, really sucks. Mr. Erskine was an awesome old bloke.”

“He once offered me a hundred dollars to play with his hair,” Harry said, his brows pulling together. “Which didn’t make any sense, because he was bald.”

“Well, not everywhere, probably.”

Harry blinked rapidly. “Oh. I didn’t think of that.” His mouth turned down. “Ew. Was he sexually harassing me?”

“To be fair, I think he sexually harassed everyone without realising it,” Tristan said. “Oh, man. What’s going to happen to this place, do you think?”

Harry looked slightly panicked. “I don’t know! I can’t afford to live anywhere else!”

The old terrace house in Dickson Street, Newtown, was a complete dump. It was the rotten, blackened tooth in an otherwise pristine smile of gorgeously renovated veneers, but it was cheap. Well, cheap by Sydney standards, at least. Which wasn’t saying much. Tristan would be okay whatever happened, but Harry and Jack were on incredibly tight budgets.

“I mean, these things take months, right?” Tristan asked. “Wills and probate and all that bullshit. And there’s probably some law that you can’t just throw tenants out on the street without notice. Isn’t there?”

Harry chewed his bottom lip. “I don’t know.”

“Hey, don’t stress about it,” Tristan said, even though it was pointless, because Harry stressed about everything. “It’ll all work out in the end.” He lifted his nose and sniffed as the scent of bacon and eggs cooking reached him, and his stomach growled. He brightened. “Is Jack making breakfast?”

Harry blocked him as he tried to step out of the room. “Tris!”

“What?”

“You’re naked.”

“Oh yeah.” He reached around to grab his robe off the hook on the back of his door. “Breakfast first, then crisis, okay?”

Harry nodded unhappily, and they headed down the stairs.

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About the Author

Lisa Henry

Lisa likes to tell stories, mostly with hot guys and happily ever afters.

Lisa lives in tropical North Queensland, Australia. She doesn’t know why, because she hates the heat, but she suspects she’s too lazy to move. She spends half her time slaving away as a government minion, and the other half plotting her escape.

She attended university at sixteen, not because she was a child prodigy or anything, but because of a mix-up between international school systems early in life. She studied History and English, neither of them very thoroughly.

Lisa has been published since 2012, and was a LAMBDA finalist for her quirky, awkward coming-of-age romance Adulting 101, and a Rainbow Awards finalist for 2019’s Anhaga.

Find out more at Lisa’s website and blog. You can follow her on Bookbub and sign up to her newsletter.

Sarah Honey

Sarah started life in New Zealand. She came to Australia for a working holiday, loved it, and never left. She lives in Western Australia with her partner, two cats, two dogs and a life-size replica TARDIS.

She spends half her time at a day job and the rest of her time reading and writing about clueless men falling in love.

Her proudest achievements include having adult kids who will still be seen with her in public, the ability to make a decent sourdough loaf, and knowing all the words to Bohemian Rhapsody.

Terribly Tristan will be her seventh published novel in collaboration with Lisa Henry.

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Betrayal by Pelaam

Wolf Island by Jason Wrench

A Wolf in Billionaire’s Clothing Collection

General Release Date: 11th October 2022

Book Description

Betrayal by Pelaam

Zale Zelinski is a billionaire, and pack Alpha Tawera is a runaway fae. Their worlds are about to collide in more ways than one.

Zale Zelinski is a CEO, a playboy, a pack Alpha and a billionaire. When attacks are made on livestock in nearby farms, suspicion falls on the shifter community.

Tawera, one of the patupaiarehe of the nearby forest, is horrified to find his family is planning his marriage—one he doesn’t want. He runs away to hide in the human world.

When the two meet, instinct takes over before both recover their wits. But when they meet again, Tawera recognizes that Zale is the mate he has dreamed of.

However, while there’s danger nearby, Zale keeps Tawera at arm’s length, prepared to let him—as well as others—think he feels nothing.

Time is against them as Zale slowly uncovers a nest of betrayal, treachery and murder. Then his enemies strike at those dearest to him.

Even if Zale can track down those responsible for the attacks and bring them to account, can he keep the love of an increasingly estranged Tawera—or will he lose him forever?

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Wolf Island by Jason Wrench

Being bitten doesn’t change the man who becomes a wolf. Only the love of a strong alpha does that.

Markus Julson IV is a billionaire investment financier who lives in New York with his husband, Danny Fletcher. His family has led the Manhattan pack for more than a century. Once a month, he flies to a secluded island in the ocean to let the wolf living in him run free. But when a stranger crashes onto his island and is bitten by his wolf, Markus’ world changes in an instant.

Dr. Peter Roberts is an assistant professor of marine cell and molecular biology at NYU whose research vessel is forced ashore onto an uncharted island during a storm. To find help, he leaves the protection of the boat and is bitten by a wolf during the storm, which changes him in more ways than one.

Markus must quickly bring Peter into the underbelly of wolf politics, because their chance encounter on the island may be fate or something more sinister. To further complicate things, Markus must manage his life with his husband while dealing with his wolf, who has chosen Peter as his mate.

Polyamorous relationships with paranormal beings are always complicated.

Reader advisory: This book has a scene of double anal penetration, and a murder.

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About the Authors

Pelaam

Living in clean, green New Zealand, Pelaam is a multi-published author of gay romance and erotica. When not working at writing, Pelaam likes to indulge in her other passions of cookery and wine appreciation.

Jason Wrench

Jason Wrench is a professor in the Department of Communication at SUNY New Paltz and has authored/edited 15+ books and over 35 academic research articles. He is also an avid reader and regularly reviews books for publishers in a wide number of genres. This book marks his first full-length work of fiction.

Find out more about Jason at his website.

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Wolf in the City by Elizabeth Coldwell

The Lone Wolf of London by Morgan Welsh

A Wolf in Billionaire’s Clothing Collection

General Release Date: 11th October 2022

Book Description

Wolf in the City by Elizabeth Coldwell

She’s about to fall in love with the real wolf of Wall Street.

Elliot Parata is an alpha wolf without a pack, after his was wiped out by an earthquake. Trying to get over his loss, he moved from New Zealand to New York and founded the Wuhuri Corporation, making billions through the creation of payment systems software. He tries to keep his life as private as possible, even though the press wants to know everything about this handsome billionaire, knowing if the secret of his true nature were ever revealed it would destroy him.

Aimee Bright is a diner waitress with a failed marriage behind her—the last woman a lone wolf might be expected to fall for, but when Elliot literally runs into Aimee in the street, the attraction is too strong for them to ignore. Soon, they are falling in love, but when an idyllic weekend getaway ends with Aimee catching Elliot mid-shift, the truth brings everything they had crashing down.

When things go from bad to potentially deadly for Elliot, will Aimee be able to overcome her fears and fight to save him?

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The Lone Wolf of London by Morgan Welsh

Alexander Payne always gets what he wants…and he wants her.

Investment Banker Alexander Payne knows that the recent spate of murders in the City of London means only one thing—they are coming for him. Wolves do not belong in cities. That’s what he was always brought up to believe. But he is no ordinary wolf and has harnessed his lupine tendencies to become one of the wealthiest men in the country, if not Europe. Led by sharp killer instinct, he always wins. Always.

Now he has to fight against those who want to take advantage of his power and privilege—his own family. He has no intention of becoming like his father, a brute of a man and a poor excuse for a wolf. He will do whatever it takes to make sure that doesn’t happen. The bodies are piling up and fingers are starting to point towards him.

When Detective Sergeant Cora Daniels turns up at his office to question him, he is instantly drawn to her. Though she could be his downfall, he has no option but to follow his instincts. Because he always gets what he wants…and he wants her.

Reader advisory: This book contains mention of violent crimes.

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About the Authors

Elizabeth Coldwell

Elizabeth Coldwell is a multi-published author and editor whose stories have appeared in a number of best-selling anthologies. She has written novels in a variety of different genres, from paranormal to BDSM and contemporary romance. She is the former editor of the UK edition of Forum magazine and the proud winner of an International Leather Award. When she is not busy writing, she is an avid supporter of Rotherham United Football Club and can be regularly found on the terraces at weekends, cheering her boys to victory (hopefully!).

Find her online at The (Really) Naughty Corner, http://elizabethcoldwell.wordpress.com

Morgan Welsh

Morgan Welsh is a UK writer of paranormal and fantasy romance. She loves everything dark and gothic and will never tire of reading or writing about vampires, witches and the fantastical. Add some steam and she’s in her element. She lives with her husband and two children and somewhere dark and distant in her head. She’d love for you to join her there.

Find out more at Morgan’s website and follow her on Instagram.

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Title:  Magic & Home

Series: Monster Apocalypse 2

Author: Alexa Piper

Publisher: Changeling Press, LLC

Release Date: 10/7/2022

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 156

Genre: Romance, Erotica

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Synopsis

Over the past two years, Rory has learned that other people aren’t the best of company, that the guilt of causing the Apocalypse is a heavy burden, and that monsters only see him as a meal. Until Rory met Inkiri, who sees Rory as his mate.

Now, Rory has to navigate what it means to be with someone who not only isn’t human but who also is from another world altogether… and since Rory finds himself in that otherworld all of a sudden, he has to adapt fast. Inkiri definitely has no intention of slowing down in his quest to make his human mate happy.

While Rory is beginning to wrap his head around liking the new place and the new customs, he can’t relax into a peaceful happily ever after because whatever connection Rory has to the magic that unleashed the Apocalypse, people want that, meaning they want him. Where Rory and his newfound family ran to may not have been far enough to escape their pursuers’ clutches.

Excerpt

Magic & Home (Monster Apocalypse 2)
Alexa Piper
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 Alexa Piper

The sun had risen, and the room in the hotel was no longer shadows of charcoal and ash but honeyed wood and fabrics of red and blue in the bedding and pillows. I was wrapped in big blue monster. Literally. Inkiri, the big blue monster in question, was all over me. Also still in me, but really, a barbed cock in my ass no longer felt as weird as maybe it should have.

“How do you even sleep with those horns?” I asked. Inkiri had been devotedly licking my neck, and with him being so much bigger than me, that meant his ibex horns had gotten pretty close to my face. They were a little bit intimidating.

Inkiri looked up, and it was now bright enough in the room that I could see him properly — the light blue skin, the ink-dark hair and indigo eyes. His hair was still unbraided. I knew we’d only gotten here, to Aër, yesterday after the shootout and the violence that had happened at the Stone of Destiny back in Ireland, and he’d mostly taken care of me. Doing his braids had been pretty low on his list of important things. What I did remember from that strange state of being unable to interact but knowing was that I had been Inkiri’s top priority, that he’d cared for me, worried for me. He’d barely even left my side.

“Pillows,” he said and fluffed one above my head. Among all the fluffy ones on the bed I’d noticed, the one he was showing me was harder than any pillow I would find comfortable, but that made sense. More support so he wouldn’t lie on those horns. “How are you feeling, sweet thing?” he asked in his sexy, British accent.

He looked down on me with those cat eyes. Those very loving cat eyes. A warm shiver chased over my skin, and it was a bit much, to be honest. Or almost a bit much. Well, with being on Earth no longer, it was a bit much.

“Fine,” I said and looked around the room.

It was now really bright out, a sunny day, but milky screens on the inside of the windows hid the glass and dimmed the light.

I could tell the room was not quite what you’d find on Earth. Most of it was hardwood flooring except for where we were, the bed, or bedding. Thickly woven carpets were piled beneath the bedding, which was pretty soft, actually. Surprisingly soft for pretty much sleeping on the floor, futon-style.

Inkiri’s swords were on the floor next to the bedding, which was not where I would have put them, but okay. Maybe sleeping next to your swords was a thing here.

The only other thing I could see in the room was a low table with several seating cushions around it and a stoneware pot of tea or water next to some cups.

My stomach immediately reacted to the visual cue of food-related items and growled noisily.

Inkiri chuckled. “Fine but hungry?” He kissed the side of my mouth human-style. “Come, let’s clean you up and feed you, sweet thing.”

“I guess I could eat,” I said, and I definitely could. A whole… whatever they served here. I wasn’t sure when my last meal had been, but probably before I had puked all over the corpse of the big orange spider back at the monster place.

The memory of the memorable arachnid also brought back the memory of how the cola ash — the Koa Esher — had waylaid us and how Inkiri had said good-bye to me when Vergis had dragged me away. Remember it always, sadir, he’d said. That I loved you. From the moment I saw you. I buried my head in his chest at the memory, relieved to the bottom of my soul that I didn’t have to remember but that he was still here to remind me.

“I love you,” I told him. What can I say? Dwelling on the past always made me very emotional.

“And I you, sadir,” Inkiri said. He clicked at me and ran his warm palms down my back. “But as much as I would like to keep you in bed, I’ll not let you go hungry.”

Inkiri clicked as he pulled out of me slowly. His barb had gone down, thankfully, and also thankfully, he was still slick with his own lubricant. I looked down between us at his massive, self-lubricating and darker blue dick. The top part with its more bulbous and pointier tip still amazed me as did that fact that thing had been in me. With barbs that kept it inside. And I’d sort of liked the thing with the barbs. That was the weirdest part.

Inkiri was extremely graceful for his size, and he was on his feet quickly and just as quickly, he gathered me in his arms.

“I think you are a bit too light,” he said as he walked to the wall on the opposite side of the bed area. “I’d like to plump you up.”

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Meet the Author

Alexa (she/her) has a lot of characters living in her head and wanting their stories told. Many of these people get snarky and won’t stop complaining if Alexa is too slow writing them, which means that for this author, sleep is a luxury. Consequently, Alexa is a coffee addict, but she is sure she has it under control (six cups of coffee are normal in a morning, right? Right!?)

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Wings by Ellen Mint

Book 5 in the Coven of Desire series

General Release Date: 4th October 2022

Word Count:  84,127
Book Length: SUPER NOVEL
Pages: 318

Genres:

ANGELS AND DEMONS
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
MÉNAGE AND MULTIPLE PARTNERS
MULTICULTURAL
PARANORMAL
REVERSE HAREM
WERESHIFTERS

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Book Description

Layla’s life is hell. She could really use an angel.

After a month and no sign of the witch hunters, Layla thought she was in the clear. A gigantic werewolf has different plans. As if her life being threatened by a mad werewolf isn’t enough, the world seems to be ending. At least that’s what an impossible, deadly-to-gaze-upon angel living underground claims.

Layla is tasked to find whatever is ripping tears in the realms, causing creatures to appear and unravel everything in the world. Good thing she has an angel by her side. Garavel may not technically be angel, despite having white wings and a golden glow, but he’s sweeter than sugar and adores witches. It’s impossible to not fall for the cuddly teddy bear. Except, once Layla finds the culprit, Garavel must return to his master’s side and she’ll never see him again.

She’s going to need her sarcastic incubus, steadfast werewolf and stately ghost at her side. If not, she doesn’t stand a chance in hell of surviving the ride.

General Release Date: 4th October 2022

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Enter to win this awesome ‘Coven of Desire’ giveaway! One person will win a Skeleton Cat Pillow, a Spooky Spatula, a Witch Cauldron Tumbler, a Lilith Candle, and paperback copies of Claw, Fang, Whisper, and Badge.

Click HERE to enter

Contest runs from October 4th to October 18th

Excerpt

“I’m late!”

My shout, ten seconds after I blearily checked my phone, reverberated off low wooden beams that I was shocked had never beaned my boyfriend. Stumbling on the slick floors in my wool socks, I slid for the closet and grabbed the first shirt I found. It wasn’t until I already had my arms through the sleeves that I smelled the musk of man and a hint of wet fur. Even a month later, most of my clothing was scattered between four cardboard boxes I swore I’d unpack once the semester was over.

I began to reach for the top one, hoping to hit summer tees and not sweaters, when my phone’s alarm went off again. Damn it, there wasn’t time. While half-hopping into my sweatpants, I dashed down Cal’s… No, he wanted me to think of it as my hallway, too. The bathroom door was partially open. At my blur, my werewolf boyfriend called out, “Babe!”

“Yes?” I skidded in my tracks and turned to find him in nothing but a nearly see-through pair of gray boxers.

Even with his blond hair smooshed on one side and his eyes drooping after our long night cramming—of both the academic and carnal variety—he was perfect. Cal smiled with his total sunshine grin and my legs began to wobble. He slipped a hand around my waist and pulled me into the bathroom.

“Morning,” he whispered before kissing me. “I still love doing that.”

I’d had no choice but to take the leap to live-in girlfriend thanks to evil witch hunters, and it’d taken some adjusting. I can’t say I’d have been so quick to move in with Cal minus the pitchfork-wielding agents, but he’d been trying his best to make it all work.

Cal picked up the blue toothbrush from the cup, leaving my purple one alone. “Are you ready for the last one?”

“No,” I admitted without pause.

He squirted out a huge glob of toothpaste, then stared at me. “You’ve got this. Or should we”—Cal cocked an eyebrow and full-on smirked—“cram again?”

A laugh escaped my lips even as goosebumps rippled up my legs and arms. It sure as hell was a cramming session with him, even using lube, but I didn’t have time. “I can’t.” I groaned. “I’m already late. Do you know where I left my purse?”

“Maybe downstairs?” He went to town on his incisors with the toothbrush before stopping and turning to me. “How are you late? We’ve got at least a half hour until exam time.”

“Only a half hour?” I repeated, the sarcasm thick. Talking to Cal wasn’t getting me to class any faster. “I hate boys.”

As I dashed down the stairs, Cal called out, “I have proof you love certain parts of us.”

Upon reaching the landing, I was greeted by the sound of pans striking a stove. That could be just one thing. I took a quick look around the living room. The TV was running through a mess of old sitcoms, but no one was watching. No sign of my purse or book. I remembered needing it when the pizza arrived, but wasn’t certain where it went after the demon and werewolf ambushed me.

If the latter didn’t know, maybe the former would. Dashing down the narrow hallway, I had to cling to the walls to avoid tripping. The last lightbulb had burned out and no one had bothered to replace it. I pushed open the kitchen door with my foot and it swung in on a baking disaster.

Standing in the middle of an egg-and-flour apocalypse was my own personal incubus. Ink’s go-to outfit was splattered in white powder and dough while he held a far-too-small bowl in the crook of his arm and stabbed it with a knife. I must have made a sound as he looked up from his concoction and smiled.

Unlike Cal’s sweet sunshine, Ink’s smile was panty-melting nefarious even when he was covered in flour prints. My mouth dried and I tried to think. Why was I here? I was doing something important, something that didn’t involve him swiping the pans off the counter and taking me now.

“I’m late,” my mouth supplied to my frozen brain.

“I assume that is not in reference to your moon cycle,” Ink said, straight-faced, before smirking. “Unless you’re far more devious than I imagined.”

“That isn’t. I can’t even…” I slapped him on the arm with barely any force, not that it mattered. I’d seen him take knives to the chest without reacting. “I wouldn’t.”

“It was but a jest. Your virtue is pure.”

“Ha!” It was hard to think myself virtuous when three men shared my bed, often two or more at a time. “Have you seen my purse?”

“I believe I last viewed it in the galley when I’d bent over your back and pressed your hands to the wood while the wolf—”

“Yes!” I interrupted, my cheeks hitting ten thousand degrees at the reminder of where Ink and Cal had been. “I remember that part. Thanks.”

I had turned to find my purse when Ink hefted up a tray. “My bond, before you attend your academic gauntlet…”

I stared at whatever he’d been cooking with dread rising in my stomach. “What is it?” They looked like generic toaster pastries with a smear of chocolate on top, but it couldn’t be that simple.

“A sandwich of my own concoction to aid in breaking your fast.”

That was what I was terrified of. Still, I picked one up. Ink had been helpful as of late. I couldn’t even hazard a guess as to why he suddenly wanted to do the occasional bout of cooking and laundry, even if what he made was usually inedible. And I was never getting that dress back after it floated down the river. But turning him down felt mean. As I raised his sandwich, I realized it was two toaster pastries stuck together. What was in the middle was anyone’s guess. Could be more chocolate, mustard or even a thickened soy sauce.

With the tips of my teeth, I nibbled down on the edge, hoping to escape the answer when brown goo clogged my throat. “Peanut butter?” I coughed out. It oozed and dripped off the sides, like he’d heated it between the two pastries.

Ink only smiled wider. “Yes. I am quite ingenious.”

“Yep,” I agreed.

“Do have a delightful day.” He pulled me closer while I stared at the PB and T sandwich. Once the peanut butter cooled, it wasn’t too bad, the strawberry in the pastry combining well. I was about to take another test bite, when Ink whispered, “Upon your return, I shall…”

He plunged his teeth against my neck, just to the edge of breaking skin. The pressure rushed through me, filling me with pleasure. Ink pressed the tip of his long nose to the middle of his bite mark. “That is for your inner thigh, and this…” He darted his tongue around the wound, the slick heat causing the same in my panties. “You can decide where you wish it.”

I groaned as my entire body lit up with anticipation and my hand clenched, shattering the breakfast sandwich. We both stared when the soggy pastry halves hit the floor. “Sorry,” I muttered, struggling to get my breathing under control.

“No matter.” Ink popped open the oven and, without gloves, pulled out a bright red tray. “I made three sheets’ worth.”

“That’s…good?” I inched out of the kitchen, leaving Ink to it while hoping Cal wasn’t counting on the mega-box of toaster pastries to fuel his wolf metabolism. An impertinent brring chirped from my phone and I glared at it.

“Yes, I know. I’m working on it!” I shouted at my inanimate object while walking into what should have been the dining room. A man dressed for a punk concert in the nineties hovered next to where every book in the house had been scattered across the long dining table. As quite a few were nursing textbooks, the old wood was bowing in the middle.

“Daniel? Have you seen my purse?”

“Hm?” Slowly, the book lowered, revealing my ghost from his cheekbones up. Not that I was complaining—they were fantastic. His deep umber eyes flared blue a moment and he snapped the book shut.

I reared back in shock. “You can do that now?” Last I remembered, the best he could do was push a page and maybe the cover.

Daniel dropped the book where it landed on knowledge mountain and picked up another. “Yes, I found I could move the book much in the way I sit.”

“I assume you mean using muscle memory and not that you close it with your butt.”

The air froze at the serious glare buffeting from Daniel’s face. I swallowed haphazardly, the peanut butter still lodged at the hollow of my throat. Did I say something wrong? He’d been waffling between a debilitating state of sadness followed by manic bursts of certainty. I couldn’t handle pushing him back to the dark side again.

Slowly, Daniel scratched his chin and cocked his head, causing the single blue stripe of hair to fall to the side. “Is that something you’d like to see?” he asked with dead certainty.

“Ah…” I was about to laugh it off, when I remembered my werewolf boyfriend who was into leashes and the demon that’d do literally anything. What I found hot seemed to shift by the day. “I’ll get back to you on that. In the meantime, I need my purse.”

“Under the table,” he said, gesturing to exactly where Ink had said it was. As I bent over to pick it up, Daniel immersed himself in yet another book. I reached inside to find my spell book safe and sound. Running my finger down the spine calmed me. Ever since I had learned that a witch losing her book caused her to go mad, I’d taken to sleeping with it under my pillow. Only the dual exhausting talents of Cal and Ink could distract me from my mortal dread.

“Did you read all of those?” I asked, pointing to his stack. There had to be a good three thousand pages there.

“Oh no,” he said with a laugh. “I read the whole table. Which reminds me, I have a list of new books I’ll require.” Daniel gestured to an old tablet Cal let him use. He couldn’t pick it up, but with his ghostly powers he could use the apps and leave lots of lists.

“I’ll have to look later,” I said, trying to work around the book peaks to escape.

“I also discovered another three potential protection spells for the house.”

“And how many of them will banish a demon?” I asked.

He frowned. Their whole ghost and incubus bromance had lasted a few days after my rescue, then it was right back to openly hating each other. “To my knowledge, none. If you’d take a look?”

“I really have to run. Last day of exams.”

“That was today? Hm, I thought they’d already occurred. Or were going to…” The unsleeping ghost stared back at the dining room window as if it could act like a calendar.

“Nope. Happening in an hour. I’ve got to bolt.”

“Why are you not going with your wolf?”

I heard him but didn’t want to answer. ‘Because’ was a cheap response, but also the best I could give. If it were the usual lecture day, of course I’d go with Cal, even if he’d wait until the last second to leave. But the only way I could keep the letters on the page from dancing the dyslexia steps was if I had a half hour to myself to calm down. Sitting next to Cal this close to a full moon would make my brain more stupid.

As I approached the front door, I called out, “Bye,” to the house and opened it. A very small man in a bowtie stood outside holding an envelope. I gasped in surprise and he opened his mouth.

“For Lady—”

Before he could speak, a demon’s claw latched around his shoulders and hefted him off the ground. I reached over to stop Ink from damaging him, but a naked arm wrapped around my stomach and pulled me deeper into the house. “What’s going on?” Cal shouted behind my ear, his words garbled from the toothbrush still in his mouth.

“They seem to have sent a spy gnome. What do they have on you? Kidnapped your gnome wife? Threatened your fox? Out with it?”

“Layla?” Daniel rushed to my side. My three guys were now standing guard against a two-foot-tall man armed with a letter. “Gnomes are often indebted to powerful magic users.”

Ink groaned and glared back over his shoulder. “Shall you read to us from the Compendium of Wikis next? We all know what gnomes are. And this one has come bearing a piece of parchment. A written threat, perhaps?”

“It’s a note, you demented fucktoy,” the gnome snarled, his little legs kicking in the air.

“A likely… Ah, it is a note addressed to Layla. Wolf?” Rather than pass it to me, he handed it to Cal who stepped even further back while taking me along.

He breathed in the scent of the envelope. “I don’t smell the sewers, but there’s obvious magic.”

“No shit,” the gnome responded. “It’s from…”

“Allow me.” Daniel was the next one to excise the letter, somehow pulling it not only from Cal’s fingers, but flipping open the flap and lifting the paper free. We all watched him carefully unfold the paper.

Ink pulled the gnome closer. “If it is coated in a ghost purging powder, I will buy you a keg.”

Daniel didn’t respond to that, his focus on the letter.

“Well,” Cal snapped. “What’s it say?”

“It’s a letter for Layla.”

All three jerked to attention at once, as if certain it had to be a sign the witch hunters were on my trail. Daniel glanced down to the bottom and sighed, “From a Valerie. Were any of the hunters known as Valerie?”

“Val… That’s the witch that saved me.” I was about to rip the letter from his ethereal fingers to read myself, when Ink grabbed it first.

Where is the gnome? I stared around in a panic to find the small man scurrying down the stoop as fast as possible.

“‘To Lady Layla, so on and so forth. I have engaged in much research…’ Humans do like to prattle…oh. Oh, great.” Ink’s interpretation of the letter smashed to a halt and he raised his head to stare at the sky.

“What?” I tried to look closer, but Cal had ahold of my waist and he wasn’t about to let me get near it just in case.

With a sigh that rattled the windows, Ink said, “It is a potion to bring back the dead.”

“Really?” I gasped, tears springing to my eyes as I turned to Daniel. His mouth hung open as if he too couldn’t believe it. We’d been hunting for a month, him for all hours, day and night, and had found nothing. If it was true that I could bring him back, he could touch, feel, live…

“What does it need? What do I have to do?” My excitement hit a peak, then crashed hard as Ink stared at me not in exhaustion but a distressing concern. I gulped and asked, “Don’t tell me it’ll cost me an arm and a leg?”

“Not quite so macabre, lest you happen to be hiding a horn I am somehow unaware of?”

A horn? I wrenched the letter away from Ink who stared in surprise that I’d dare. Damn thing was addressed to me after all. I skipped past the preamble from the witch who’d saved me from the hunters to the helpful bullet points.

Blood of a demon

Piece between realms

Skin of a unicorn

Feather of an angel

Bone of the dead

Boil in a cauldron or available kettle for thirty minutes, then recite the intended’s name while pouring the potion out.

That was it. Laid out like a recipe, it felt easy, doable. I glanced to Daniel and hope shone in his eyes. Reaching over, I placed my hand above his. He took control, holding mine as we both grinned like two idiots who won a chocolate factory. Soon, he’d be able to hold me for real.

“We can do this,” I whispered to him, trying to seal the promise I made.

“Ah, yes.” Ink peered over my shoulder at the list he’d already read. “Only requires the blood and brains of two celestials and a piece of the void to seal it together. A light shopping list. Perhaps your interconnected webs have an all demon and angel body part store?”

They never said it would be easy. “You’re a demon…” I began to my incubus.

“Even ignoring the technicality, I am not a demon. My blood is not special enough for this spell.”

“I pray I don’t expire twice from the lack of surprise,” Daniel cut in.

Ink’s lips cut apart into a toothy grin aimed at the ghost. “Would be much easier to simply acquire a bowl of salt and a torch.”

I was about to cut in, when my phone gave its final warning. All of this demons and angels mess would have to wait. My other life needed me. “We’ll figure all of this out later. I’ve got to get to the test.” I started to fold the letter up, but Daniel held his hands out for it.

For a moment, I hesitated. Not only was it addressed to me, it was also a private letter between witches. But it was his life, literally, in my hands. I handed him the paper, which he managed to keep floating a millimeter above his palms while he stared at it.

Checking my purse once more to make certain my book hadn’t fallen out, I tugged open the front door. “And, if you wouldn’t mind, can you dial back the ‘big scary bodyguard’ routine? Not everyone in the world is trying to kill me.”

“Are you certain of that, my bond?” the one who’d assaulted the gnome asked without pause.

I glared at Ink, then caught a quick blown kiss from Cal. Daniel broke from the letter to give me one last smile before I slipped out of the house. I couldn’t blame them for being so overprotective, but it’d been a month since I had escaped the hunters. At some point, I had to return to normal life.

“Wait!” Cal dashed to my side. It was sweet that he didn’t want to say goodbye, but I really had to… He reached up and tugged my bonnet off my hair. “Didn’t think you wanted to leave the house with this on.”

A jab of embarrassment jolted through me. I had forgotten I even had it on. That he’d cared enough to tell me and it didn’t faze him warmed my heart. I pulled him close for a quick peck and whispered, “Thank you.”

“When will you return?” It was Daniel who spoke, still transfixed by the letter.

“Once this test is done, we can get to work on figuring out that potion.”

“Ah, Dana’s party,” Cal interrupted.

I winced at forgetting my friend’s ‘we’re free’ bash. I’d been so busy lately, the only time I spent with her or Fariah was during deathly quiet studying. “After that,” I promised Daniel. “Then we’ll bring you back to life.”

He smiled so sweetly that I ached to kiss him. It was Ink who sighed dramatically and turned. “I shall fetch the lightning rods and pitchforks then.”

I really had to go. With one arm around my purse, I stepped out of the door to the walkway lined with untrimmed bushes and tried to force my brain to think about gram-negative bacteria. What would it feel like to hold him? To touch warm skin instead of cool air? To pull off his jean jacket and lift the old band shirt to touch his body below? To feel his lips on mine?

I was electrified, certain I could take on the world. Pass my finals, bring back the dead, stop whatever evil Mr. White is, end the witch hunters once and for all. I was unstoppable.

The bushes rustled and an arm bigger than a fencepost shot out. It wrapped around my throat and pulled me back, tightening so fast I couldn’t even scream.

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About the Author

Ellen Mint

Ellen Mint adores the adorkable heroes who charm with their shy smiles and heroines that pack a punch. She recently won the Top Ten Handmaid’s Challenge on Wattpad where hers was chosen by Margaret Atwood. Her books, Undercover Siren and Fever are available at Amazon as well as a short story in the Lucky Between The Sheets anthology. Married, she lives in Nebraska with her dog named after Granny Weatherwax. Her hobbies include gaming, painting, and halloween prop making. The basement is full of skeletons because they ran out of room in the closets.

You can find Ellen at her website here and also on Bookbub.

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