Sexy wolves and heart-stopping action await in Claimed by the Moon, the highly-anticipated continuation of the Royal Shifters series by New York Times and USA Today best-selling author L.P. Dover!
In his 200 years of life, Zayne Lyall has made his share of enemies. The most ruthless of all being Knox Channon, who seeks vengeance for a pack war that took place over a hundred years ago.
To gain information he can use to bring Zayne down, Knox reconnects with Amelie Graye, a past love who joined the Royal pack Zayne belongs to. Unfortunately, Amelie doesn’t know much about the royal arctic… despite a longing within her to be near him.
Amelie and Knox have a tumultuous past that ended after she and her family went rogue following an attack by the Sierra pack. While she has no details to offer about Zayne, Knox sniffing around her leaves his inner wolf snarling.
More than anything Zayne wants to charge in and protect the woman his heart aches for. But he has a secret… and it could cost him everything. Amelie is his fated mate. If Knox were to discover this, he would know hurting her would be the key to destroying Zayne. Torn between his desire to claim Amelie as his own and his ferocious passion to protect her, can Zayne find a way to bring down his malicious enemy? Or will an age old vendetta rob him of a blissful future with his bonded mate?
The door to the cabin opens, and Amelie steps out with her caramel-colored hair in a ponytail and dressed in a tank top and yoga pants. It’s fifteen degrees outside, but the cold doesn’t bother us. The smell of snow approaches, and I can tell it’s going to come down hard within the hour. Looking up at the sky, it’s dark, and the clouds are thick.
Amelie plugs in the Christmas lights on her porch and looks up at them when she gets into the yard. I’ve never seen someone so fascinated with the holidays. But she’d be appalled if she could see my house at Christmas time. I’ve never cared about decorating or celebrating, at least not in the last thirty years after losing Alina. Something tells me I might have to change that. If this is going to work between us, I’ll have no choice but to see things differently. The only problem is that I have no idea how to do that.
Amelie runs through the woods in human form, and I follow behind her, making sure to keep my presence hidden. I’m not ready for her to know I’m there yet. The lake is a few miles into the woods, and her movements are smooth and concise as she swerves in and out of the trees. The only other people I’ve seen move like that are my brothers. She had to have learned it from Micah. I’ve envied him for being so close to her. It’s even made me a little jealous, but I know he’s never tried anything with her. When he comes back to town, things might be a little different. I’m hoping Amelie will let me train her instead of him.
The lake comes into view, and I slow my pace. Amelie stops by the water and blows out a breath, watching the steam billow into the wind. She raises her arms in the air and stretches, exposing her bare stomach as her shirt lifts up. The need in me rises, and I close my eyes. All I can think about is taking her in my arms and making her mine. “Fuck,” I hiss under my breath. My cock hardens at the thought of her naked and spread out beneath me. Stepping behind the tree, I lean against it to regain my composure. I’m always in control, but around Amelie, I’ve lost all sense of it. Taking a deep breath, I let it out slow until everything goes back to normal. When it does, I unleash my power so Amelie can sense me.
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author L. P. Dover is a southern belle living in North Carolina with her husband and two beautiful girls. Everything’s sweeter in the South has always been her mantra and she lives by it, whether it’s with her writing or in her everyday life. Maybe that’s why she’s seriously addicted to chocolate.
Dover has written countless novels in several different genres, including a children’s book with her daughter. Her favorite to write is romantic suspense, but she’s also found a passion in romantic comedy. She loves to make people laugh which is why you’ll never see her without a smile on her face.
L.P. Dover is represented by Marisa Corvisiero of Corvisiero Literary Agency
Title: Let Me Fly Author: A.C. Ponton Series: Wild Wings #1 Genre: Paranormal Reverse Harem Romance
My name is Isabelle Dark, and my life sucks. In exactly ten days, four hours, fifty-seven minutes, and fifteen seconds, I will cease to exist. Okay, maybe that’s a bit dramatic, but what would you say if you were being forced to marry a man you despise? Exactly. I have to find a way to escape. Up to now I’ve spent my life in hiding. There aren’t any other options for those like me: I’m a Nephilim, a half-breed. The only choice I have is whether to be killed by the Shadows or to remain here, hidden among the Hollows. So I made my decision: I would rather risk my life fighting to be free than continue to struggle to survive in the home I grew up in. My plan was to go to college and live a normal life, but somehow I ended up in a school for Shadows where everyone hates me. Plus, I’ve been assigned seven angels as my bodyguards. Jailers would be a more appropriate word. The tension growing between us is impossible to deny. Sparks are starting to fly. They’re beginning to get under my skin and . . . What do I do now? My name is Isabelle Dark. I’m a Nephilim and I’m screwed.
Warning: This book is a full-length reverse-harem romance. It contains adult themes, MM scenes, foul language and some violence. If, however, you’re in the market for a novel full of sexy angels and a hot-blooded main character, you’ve found your next read. Let Me Fly is the first book in the Wild Wings series and cannot be read as a standalone. Intended for 18+ readers.
My name is Isabelle Dark and my life sucks. In exactly ten days, four hours, fifty-seven minutes, and fifteen seconds, I will cease to exist.
Why do I say this? Well, all you need to know is that I’ve been forced to live in the shadows. I have to struggle to survive in my own home. There’s no other choice for someone like me. I’m a half-breed, which means that my only alternatives are to be killed by the Shadows or stay hidden here, among the Hollows. As I said, it sucks!
I shake my head as a hysterical laugh forces its way out of my throat. I can tell the woman behind me is frowning, her mouth tightly closed, her lips pressed together. “Stay still,” she orders me. “Hold your breath and suck your belly in!”
My jaw goes rigid, but I remain silent.
“Don’t make that face!” she mutters. “You need to eat less. You’re not thin enough!”
Fuck you, I think, as my hands ball into fists and I try to keep myself from punching her in the face. I hate her. I hate everything about her. I hate her pointy nose, her high cheekbones, her oval face, her gray eyes that have no spark of light in them, her brown hair that’s always pulled back in a perfect chignon. I hate her long skirt and dumb white shirt buttoned up so tightly under er chin. I don’t understand how she doesn’t choke. Why can’t she choke?
With a sigh I regard the image in the mirror again. Who are you? I struggle to hold back the tears. I don’t want to cry, not while the woman is looking at me.
She yanks the laces of my dress even tighter, so tight I can barely breathe. Who are you? I ask my reflection again. The person in the mirror is a stranger. She’s not wearing my usual outfit of ripped jeans and a man’s T-shirt. Her blond hair frames her face, falling in soft waves on the lace bodice of the dress, which is peekaboo, with visible stays. It extends to her hips, emphasizing her narrow waist. The full, soft skirt falls to her feet. The pure white of the dress blends in with the white skin of the girl in the mirror.
I heave a sigh, and the sad blue eyes in the glass regard me. They’re alien to me, but somehow terribly familiar at the same time.
Who are you?
“Edward certainly won’t want a fat wife!” The bitch tightens the ribbons of the bodice even more. I’m suffocating.
“Fuck you,” I mutter, this time audibly. I want her to hear. She ignores me as she continues to fit me with my wedding dress. There are now only ten days, four hours, fifty minutes, and thirty seconds remaining until I say I do.
But it’s not going to happen. Less than three hours from now I’m going to escape. I have to, if I want to survive—or at least die free. What will become of me when I leave this damned prison, though? What will become of you? I silently ask the girl reflected in the mirror.
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. From billionaires to BBWs to
Angela Camilla Pontone is a USA Today bestselling author. She lives in Italy, in a town between Rome and Naples. She’s been an avid reader since childhood. She prefers romance, but will gobble up pretty much anything that’s available. She’s always loved history and literature, so she obtained a Master’s Degree in the fields of Italian and Romance Languages, Literatures and Philology, Historical and Musicological Studies, Latin Languages and Literatures, Ancient History, and Archaeology.
Camilla’s secret desire was always to be a writer, but she never had the courage to pursue her dream until her life experiences led her to seek a way out of reality. Now, her dream is to continue to create great stories that her readers will love.
For generations, the Greek gods have been at war with each other; fighting to sit on the throne of Mt. Olympus. Eros, the god of love and the most powerful of the ancients, has been waging his own secret war. For eons, he has been looking for his lost soul mate, Psyche; her return marks the beginning of the end of the reign of the Olympians, and the restoration to power by the primordial gods. But she has been reborn as a mortal, with no memory of him.
Psyche holds the key to the throne of Mt. Olympus. With her and Eros’ enemies coming out of the shadows to stop them, it is a race against time. If she cannot reunite her soul with Eros, her powers, memories, and the lives of the gods and mortals alike will be forever lost.
The agonizing shout of her name broke her out of the trance she had been caught in. Her eyes snapped open, and at first she was disoriented, the bright light in the room blinding her as her eyes fought to adjust. Blinking, she looked down, and an eternity seemed to pass as she sat frozen, trying to process the scene before her.
Phanes. Her husband. She was finally seeing him. Her eyes feasted hungrily on him. Her heart wept with joy. He finally trusted her enough to reveal himself. He was so achingly handsome. Blond and blue-eyed, he had said. What a typical male answer when describing his coloring. It didn’t even remotely come close to describing his beauty.
She recognized him. Eros. Her husband was the god of love. An immortal. How could she not have guessed? All the clues were there. She should have recognized him, especially when his drakon told her their true name. Then it came to her. Aphrodite and her vendetta against her. Of course. No wonder he kept his identity secret.
His tousled blond hair was threaded with multiple shades of gold, sunlight, and silver. His eyes were so many shades of blue, and they were so vivid, they glowed. Even as the thought crossed her mind, his eyes quickly dimmed, the light flickering like a candle that had reached its end.
Pain. He was in pain.
“Psyche. Why?” he whispered brokenly.
Confused, she dragged her gaze from his face and looked down. A startled cry burst from her as she stared uncomprehendingly at his chest. Blood. So much blood. His chest was covered in it. A knife wound clearly visible in his upper shoulder. She went to grab the blanket, to press it against the wound and hopefully staunch the flow.
She froze, staring in disbelief at what she was clutching in her hand, the sheet temporarily forgotten. A dagger. Her hand trembled. It couldn’t be. Dear gods, no. A bloody dagger was in her hand. Both were covered in her husband’s blood, marking her with the evidence of her crime.
No! her soul screamed in agony. She couldn’t have done such an evil deed. She couldn’t have stabbed him. Not her beloved husband. The man she loved with all her heart and soul. But the damning evidence was right in front of her. Her guilt undeniable.
He let out a soft moan, snapping her out of her frozen state.
Dropping the dagger, she frantically ripped the sheets and pressed them against his wound. It had to stop bleeding. He would heal, she desperately thought to herself. He could heal himself. He had to be alright. He was powerful. A god. There was no way he could die from an ordinary stab wound. He would be alright. He had to be alright. Even as her jumbled thoughts raced through her mind, the wound continued to bleed. It wasn’t stopping. The sheet quickly became soaked with his blood.
Why wasn’t it stopping? He just lay there, not moving. Not fighting. Silent. He wasn’t raging at her, condemning her for trying to kill him. He just lay there. A soul-shattering expression of defeat in his eyes. Death. He looked like he wished to die from her betrayal. She pressed harder. She had to save him. He groaned weakly in pain.
“Help! Please, somebody help us!” she screamed, frantic.
A sudden animalistic roar rent the air outside their bedroom. The strength of its inhuman rage and agony tore through the palace, shaking it to its very foundation.
Eros curled his fingers around her wrist. For a brief moment, the world came to a standstill as they gazed into each other’s eyes. In that one moment, they shared a lifetime of what could have been. The life they could have shared. A dozen thoughts reflected in their depths. Regret. Love. But the most heartbreaking was the bitter defeat in his eyes before he looked away, pushing her hand off him. She suddenly found herself pushed off to the side of the bed, Eros staggering to his feet. He stumbled, weak. “Pax!” he shouted.
Pax appeared, her normally rosy complexion pale at the sight of a blood-stained Eros. “What happened?”
He shook his head in despair. Psyche wept silently. He could barely bring himself to look at her. When he finally did, she crumbled in shame on the bed. She couldn’t bear the shattered look of betrayal on his face.
“It doesn’t matter. Just protect Psyche. No matter what happens.”Then he turned his back on them and flew out the window, transforming into his drakon form. In the distance, she could make out another drakon winging its way to the palace. It was a mirror image of her husband’s beast, though this one was all black with silver-tipped spikes. They met in midair, a clash of claws and teeth as they grappled with each other, both fighting for supremacy.
E.X. Alexander is a romance author who loves to tell a good romance story: the hotter, the better. A proud Greek American (no My Big Fat Greek Wedding jokes or she’ll be forced to pull out the Windex 😉 who loves to spend time with her family and friends. There is no better way to relax than to curl up with a steamy romance novel with purr babies under a blanket. Okay, a spa day would be a close second. If she is not reading or writing she can usually be found in her car listening to heavy metal and rock music in pursuit of her two favorite fruits: coffee and chocolate. (Yes, they are fruits.)
