At thirty-five and single, I’m tired of the dating game. Tired of men who look at me and say, “You’d be prettier if you shed a few pounds.”
There’s only one man I want a future with — my grouchy friends with bene fits, Nolan. But he’s adamant about keeping things casual.
All that changes when one night we get careless, and those pink lines show up on the pregnancy test months later.
Nolan wants to do right by me. He wants to give me what I’ve been searching for, but I’m pretty sure he’s only doing it out of obligation. It’s not like the bearded brewmaster loves me like I love him.
“Come outside and help me put up the lights before Avery gets home.”
We grabbed our coats and walked outside. Declan untangled the lights from the plastic bag someone had shoved them inside. I grabbed the ladder from the shed and put it against the house. Declan directed me where to hang the lights while he held the ladder. I wasn’t sure how long we had been out there, but it felt like it took forever. I didn’t care how long it took; I just wanted it to be perfect for Avery.
“I think it looks good,” Declan called up to me.
I walked down the ladder, and he ran inside to flip the switch. The house lit up with twinkling white lights, like some fucking winter wonderland. Avery never would have expected me to decorate for Christmas. I wanted to surprise her with it, to make it feel like this was her home, too.
Dec came out of the house and whistled. “Looks good. She’s gonna love it.”
I frowned and ran a hand down my beard. “I hope so. I want everything to be perfect for her.”
Dec nudged me with his elbow. “Take the night off. Go help your baby mama get the rest of her stuff and get situated. The brewery will be fine without you for one night. Okay?”
“I…”
He cut me off by holding up his hand. “Nolan, this is why we have staff. You don’t have to work your fingers to the bone like when we first opened. You’re the head brewer. You don’t have to micromanage every tiny detail of the process. I know you’re stressed about money, but it’s gonna be okay.”
“I want to be good enough for her. And for Peanut.”
“Peanut?” he asked with a confused look.
I shrugged. “It’s what I call the baby.”
My brother beamed at me. “That’s so cute.”
I punched him in the shoulder. “Shut it!”
He pushed me back. “Get out of here. I’ll handle s**t at the brewery tonight. Go help your lady.”
Declan didn’t have a life outside of the brewery, either. He was just as bad as I was. I couldn’t remember the last time he even went on a date. I don’t think he’s had a serious relationship since his high school girlfriend Lila broke his heart when she went to college in California and never came back.
I was about to run back into the house for my car keys when two cars pulled up into the driveway. I planned to go over to Avery’s apartment to help, so she didn’t have to carry all those boxes inside. She shouldn’t be lifting anything heavy in her condition. I hadn’t realized how long it took us to get the tree up and decorated. Getting the lights up on the house had taken longer than I would have liked, even with my brother’s help. I felt like a dick. I should have helped her pack up all her things.
Avery got out of her car with a box in her hand, and I rushed over to help her. She scowled at me. “I can lift a box, Nol,” she argued, but the debate died on her lips when she looked up at my brightly lit-up house. “Oh… Oh! You put up Christmas lights?”
Her eyes sparkled as the reflection of the lights hit her just right. The way her entire face lit up in delight struck me in the chest.
“Nolan, did you do this for me?” she asked in surprise.
I grunted in response.
“But you hate Christmas.”
I took the box from her and walked into the house. I smiled when I heard her gasp. “Oh, Nolan,” Avery whispered.
Danica Flynn is a marketer by day, and a writer by nights and weekends. AKA she doesn’t sleep! She is a rabid hockey fan of both The Philadelphia Flyers and the Metropolitan Riveters. When not writing, she can be found hanging with her partner, playing video games, and reading a ton of books.
For seventeen years, Ezra Newport and his parents were habitual immigrants, traveling from their Ottoman Empire home across 20th century Europe. As the Newports migrate to Belfast, Ireland, Ezra wants nothing more to settle into a consistent life and lay the foundation of his architectural dreams. But after a strange, mechanical bounty hunter murders his mother and prompts the disappearance of his father, Ezra discovers that his parents had actually been on the run. Now, their enemies are targeting him, and they won’t stop until he is dead.
In a moment of desperation, Ezra’s fate collides with the Third Order of the Magi, a secret society dedicated to using their supernatural powers to protect their communities. With increasing violence around the world, the Magi are fairly certain they know who’s behind the attacks on Ezra and his family since the same group could also be threatening their own existence.
Both Ezra and the Magi’s survival hinges on knowledge only Ezra’s father has and the key to saving them could be buried within history itself. In a race across continents and time, both Ezra and the Magi must secure an ancient Babylonian artifact before hell is unleashed on the world. And, against all odds, Ezra must decide where his allegiances truly lie, despite what is written in the stars.
Not very many things had the power to piss off Diego Montreal.
Disloyalty? Naturally.
Being held back? Of course.
Jonas’ embitterment toward his relationship with Stella? Without question.
Failure?
Failure had to be the worst offender. Nothing could make him feel more incompetent than defeat, especially if that defeat had anything to do with Time Manipulation.
Diego screwed up his face in concentration, squeezing the edges of the quartz wand into his palm. Usually illuminated with natural light, the chief constable’s office was now shrouded in shadows, too tenacious for the weak desk lamp bulb and the evening gloom. The Souvenirs—the ring and the electric torch—had been laid out before him, alongside Norman’s heavy scrutiny.
This time, it had to work.
“Forgive me for my lack of understanding, but I honestly don’t see why this situation is different than the rest,” the constable grumbled as he lit a cigar and propped his feet upon the desk. “This should have worked the first time. After all, you’ve managed to view crime scenes before.”
Diego lifted his burning gaze to his boss.
Despite his flagrant tone, the constable spoke the truth, as much as Diego hated to admit it. Previous attempts had gone without a hitch. But for some unknown reason, these crime scenes proved resistant to his abilities. What seemed like the simple work of a madman with a fondness for the word “quietus” had an impenetrable exterior. Every time Diego turned back Time to view these events, a thick darkness cloaked whatever evidence remained. He had never seen anything quite like it in any of his Time Excursions.
Either his abilities were somehow being drained or someone was erasing history. Both scenarios did not sound particularly thrilling.
“Yes, well, I wouldn’t expect you to understand the technicalities of it,” Diego muttered.
“No, I don’t,” huffed Norman, “but there’s something I do understand, and it is that now, we aren’t the only ones dealing with this madness.” The constable reached into his top drawer and dropped a newspaper on the workspace, further disrupting Diego’s focus.
His eyes skimmed the recent headline but backtracked when he realized it was in French. What Diego could not ascertain from the print, he translated from the front-page photograph.
Plumes of fire and coal dust disrupted what once was a mining operation. Lifts, splintered planks, and glass fragments littered the work site, while flocks of ravens dotted the chaotic skyline. While the photograph neglected to show any of the dead or injured, it did provide a glimpse of something far more impactful: the painful emotion in their comrades’ faces, streaked amongst the grime.
Whatever had just taken place not only rattled the northern French countryside. It had shaken survivors to their cores.
La catastrophe de Courriéres.
“They’re saying more than a thousand people are dead,” said the chief constable. “What they are not saying—in the papers, at least—is that authorities discovered the word quietus painted in red across one of the communal shacks. I suppose you can understand why this is a bit higher of a priority now that it has crossed international boundaries.”
Diego gritted his teeth and pushed the newspaper away from the Souvenirs. “So, the Irish Republican Brotherhood is out of the question, I assume?”
Norman narrowed his eyes. “Most likely.”
“Right. Well, there’s only one thing we can do,” Diego began, once again tracing the Star of David in the air with his quartz wand. “Pray my theory will hold strong enough for me to bring something back.”
“Best of luck, kid,” Chief Constable Norman said through a puff of smoke. “Do me proud.”
Diego saluted him and pressed the crystal tip to the face of his pocket watch. Focusing on the time and date written on the scraps of paper beside its corresponding Souvenir, Diego internally beckoned the power of the stars to navigate to the exact moment when the Dunmurry boy lost his life. The clock hands wound backward in a savage spiral. The present world faded away, like streaks of paint drowned in torrents of water. He was now a sailor amongst the Sea of Time, directing the helm toward imminent disaster.
Since the early age of 6, Kale Lawrence knew she either wanted to be an astronaut or an author. Obviously, the astronaut gig didn’t work out, so instead, Kale turned to fantastic fictional worlds. When Kale is not writing creatively, she works as a Marketing Manager at a pet product company, and pretends she’s an Olympic swimmer at the gym. She has also served as a board member for the South Dakota Writes organization.
In addition to books, Kale has lent her writing prowess to television, and her writing has been featured on nationwide PBS television programming, NBC newscasts, ABC newscasts, and the Travel Channel.
Kale currently lives in Sioux Falls, South Dakota with her feisty tortoiseshell calico cat, Emma Bug and sassy Siamese, Seattle Bean.
Title: Mate for the Howlidays Author: Jessica Coulter Smith Genre: Paranormal Christmas Romance
Dex and Dane couldn’t be more different. One is motorcycle boots, leather, and all things wild. The other is a cowboy hat wearing sweetheart who owns the local bar. And Kizzie is the lucky lady who gets to keep them both!
When she moved back to Wolf Hollow, she only wanted a fresh start. Not once did she ever imagine she’d up being mated to two wolves, and just in time for the holidays!
She smiled wistfully. “That it must be great to have someone love you so much they want to spend the rest of their lives with you. I’ve never had a relationship last past a few weeks. I can’t imagine finding someone who would want me around forever.”
He watched her silently for a moment before hooking an arm around her waist and hauling her up against his body. “Angel, anyone would be lucky to have a woman like you. We might have just met, but I can tell you have class and style, and you seem sweet.”
The champagne glass in her hand fell to the ground as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Suddenly, she couldn’t think of anything she wanted more than to taste his lips on hers. When his head lowered, she went up on tiptoe to meet him halfway. Their lips met, pressing together, then his moved against hers in a gentle caress. Her tongue swept over his lower lip and he opened, deepening the kiss. Her fingers toyed with the ends of his hair as his tongue slid along the length of hers. Kizzie felt lightheaded and clung to him tighter. She heard the clink of a bottle hitting the ground, then his hands caressed her waist, stroking up her back until one hand cupped the back of her head. She’d never felt so on fire before.
Award-winning author Jessica Coulter Smith has been in love with the written word since she was a child writing her first stories in crayon. If Jessica isn’t writing, then she’s like reading. Her favorite books are romances, but she also enjoys the occasional mystery or general fiction book. Romance is an integral part of her world and she firmly believes that love will find you at the right time, even if Mr. Right is literally out of this world.
You can also follow her blog, Books + Coffee = Happiness, to learn about new releases and discover new authors! http://bookscoffeehappiness.com
We’re about to enter the junior studio on the opposite side of the building when Mara catches up with me.
“Excuse me!” she pants, her cheeks flaming pink. “Could I speak to Mr. Blackwell for a moment?”
The other panel members turn to look at me, to see if I’ll comply.
Sonia is particularly curious. She knew something was up the moment I told her to offer Mara the studio. The discounted rate was a fabrication, invented by me on the spot. The same with this grant. It’s all leverage to get Mara right where I want her: completely at my mercy.
“Of course,” I say quietly. “The rest of you go on without me. I’ll join you momentarily.”
I lead Mara down the hall to an empty studio several doors down. I step into the clean, deserted space. She hesitates in the doorway, afraid to be alone with me.
“Are you coming?” I ask, eyebrow raised.
Pressing her lips together, she marches into the room, closing the door behind her.
I wait for her to speak, watching the rapid rise and fall of her chest, thrilling at the hectic spots of color on her cheeks.
She’s illuminated with fury, eyes blazing, cheeks flaming. Her dark hair swirls around her face, defying gravity from the pure electric tension between us. Her thin hands tremble, and she digs her nails into the thighs of her jeans.
“I know it was you,” she says, her voice low and hoarse.
I’m enjoying this so much I can hardly stand it. Her rage, her fear, and the delicious predicament I put her in, all mixed together in a potent cocktail. Her expression of shock when she saw my face, and the awful struggle as she had to discuss her work with the panel, while her brain must have been twisting and turning inside her skull . . . I’m so glad I have it all recorded. I can’t wait to watch it over again tonight.
“What was me?” I say mildly.
“You know,” she hisses. Her whole body is shaking. I’d like to hold her against me, to feel those tremors vibrating through my frame . . .
“Please explain.”
Her eyes glint with tears of fury, but she refuses to let them fall. Her lips are swollen and chapped, as if she’s been biting at them . . .
“Someone snatched me off the street. They tied me up, cut my wrists, and left me in the woods. You were there. I saw you. You stood over me, staring at me. You saw I needed help. And you walked right over me. You left me there to die.”
“What a bizarre accusation,” I say. “Do you have any proof?”
I know she doesn’t. I just want to see how she’ll respond.
“I saw you,” she hisses. “I’ll tell the cops.”
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea.” I tuck my hands in my pockets, tilting my head as I look at her. “That would cause a lot of problems for you. You’d lose the studio, of course. The grant, too.”
“Are you threatening me?” Her voice rises, the edge of hysteria sharp as razor wire. “Why are you doing this? Why did you do this to me?”
She holds up her arm so her loose bell sleeve drops away, revealing the long, jagged scar across the wrist. The scar is still healing, raised like a welt on the skin.
“I didn’t do that,” I scoff.
Mara falters, her upraised hand dropping an inch.
Interesting—she doesn’t actually know who cut her.
“You were there,” she insists.
“So what if I was?”
She startles, shocked that I admitted it.
“Then you did this!” she shrieks.
“No,” I growl. “I didn’t.”
In one swift step, I close the space between us. Mara tries to turn and run, but I’m much too fast for her. I seize her by the arm, yanking her toward me, holding up that accusing hand and branded wrist.
I look down into her terrified face, pinning her in place with my gaze as much as my fingers locked around her wrist.
“There’s no limit on predators in the world,” I hiss. “And no lack of damaged girls to attract them.”
Sophie Lark is an Amazon Bestselling author who writes intense, intelligent romance, with heroines who are strong and capable, and men who will do anything to capture their hearts. She lives with her husband, two boys, and baby girl in the Rocky Mountain West.
She has a slight obsession with hiking, bodybuilding, and live comedy shows. Her perfect day would be taking the kids to Harry Potter World, going dancing with Mr. Lark, then relaxing with a good book and a monster bag of salt and vinegar chips.
Title: Heart of Gold Author: Quinn Coleridge Genre: Contemporary Romance
Workaholic attorney Simon Phillips negotiates multi-million dollar deals in the tech world, but he’s secretly falling apart. With an ulcer, insomnia, and a growing dependence on alcohol, Simon conceals his dark side from the other partners at his firm, until the day he wakes up on a bathroom floor in his good Tom Ford suit, smelling of Jose Cuervo. Simon barely remembers his intoxicated rant from the night before, but it lands him with a forced leave of absence and two months of community service.
After choosing to perform his service at an obscure nonprofit medical clinic, Simon meets Dr. Kate Spencer. A dedicated physician and widow at twenty-eight, Kate knows how painful love can be, and she doesn’t trust workaholic lawyers. Especially ones with cool blue eyes and a history of breaking hearts.
Yet a rocky friendship develops between these two world-weary souls, and when dangers from Kate’s past emerge, somehow Simon is the one standing at her side.
Can love help them heal? Or will they miss their chance at happiness?
His thought pattern shut down when they made eye contact. He forgot everything. Anxiety. His job. How to breathe.
She stood in the sad, run-down office, exuding vitality and strength. Her face reminded Simon of a fine painting, one filled with sunlight and smooth, pleasing lines. And pale gold everywhere, on skin, lashes, and hair.
Mermaid eyes, Simon thought. Sea-green.
Beth coughed loudly. “I don’t think we’ve seen you around here before, have we?”
“No. No, you haven’t. I’m Simon,” he replied, tearing his attention away from the other woman.
“Well, hello. My name’s Beth.” She gestured toward the golden goddess. “And this is Dr. Kate Spencer.”
Kate took a step toward Simon. “Why are you here?”
He definitely felt a chill in her tone. Is she frowning at me? And what’s with the attitude? Simon decided to give her another chance and extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Spencer.”
Looking as if his hand was infected with any number of contagions, Kate folded her arms. “We’ve met before. Quite a few times.”
Met before? She had to be mistaken. He would have remembered her. “Forgive me but when was this?”
Beth gave Kate a gentle elbow to the ribs. “Why are you being so rude?”
“It’s okay,” Simon replied. “She’s fine.”
He glanced at Beth and then returned his attention to Kate. If the doctor was ice before, now she burned. Her eyes nearly glowed with a fiery greenish-blue light, like a medieval heretic facing her corrupt accusers. Kate had a temper and it was fully directed at Simon. For some perverse reason this made him want to smile.
Instead, he pointed out the obvious. “I get the feeling you don’t like me much, doctor.”
“That’s a safe assumption.”
Beth began to apologize but Simon ignored her. He knew how to handle angry women. Usually they were girlfriends, who moaned about his schedule or lack of commitment, not strangers. “Why is that, exactly?”
Mermaid eyes glittering, Kate said, “This is the fifth time our paths have crossed. Each meeting worse than the one before, I might add. And you still don’t remember me.”
Call him a jackass, a playboy, or a bastard, but casting aspersions against Simon’s mind was an insult of the highest order. He bristled at the mere notion of his forgetting anyone he’d met once, let alone five times.
Quinn Coleridge grew up in the Pacific Northwest where she learned to love rain storms and reading by a crackling fire. She wrote often in a variety of genres, studied literature as an adult, and created a humor column for a small town paper. Since moving to the desert with her husband and kids, Quinn doesn’t use her fireplace much these days, but she still loves books.
Life lesson: Never get between a wolf and his mate. You won’t enjoy it.
Savannah’s clan wants her dead, and they’ve sent her fated mate to find her.
What began as a nightmare years ago has morphed into much more as her cursed powers have far surpassed what her sisters possess. She isn’t sure what that means for her future, but one thing is clear. She needs to RUN.
Until the scorching hot wolf hunter with major possessive vibes shows her the meaning of tempted…
King has a reputation as a cold, calculated hunter. He can always find those that can’t be found. When a lucrative job lands in his lap it may finally be his way out of the rogue Blackwood Pack.
Except…He doesn’t hunt women.
But he’s also still figuring out how to be a dad to his orphaned nephew and they need the money.
Because of that, he agrees to find her and turn her over to the clan, unharmed.
Only when he locates the missing woman, he discovers there’s a lot more to her than what they told him. Now, not even a city teeming with supernaturals can keep him from protecting what’s HIS.
I am so excited you have found my books! Be sure to click the orange follow button so you can be notified by Amazon about new releases. Want to know more, including behind the scenes? You can sign up for my VIP newsletter at: http://elizagayle.com/newsletter
Eliza Gayle is the NY Times and USA Today Bestselling Author of over 25 paranormal romance books. (She also writes contemporary romance under E.M. Gayle) She lives on a small island in the Pacific Northwest and spends her days writing romance, wandering the beach, kayaking or trying to remodel something. (She blames the latter on Pinterest.)
Before her writing career began, she served in the Marine Corps and lived a crazy life of adventure. Then she read her first erotic romance novel and everything changed. So after years of thinking about writing she finally grabbed her laptop and wrote.
Title: El Diablo Author: Marteeka Karland Series: Black Reign MC #5 Genre: Contemporary MC Romance
I wasn’t expecting a man like El Diablo. Good thing I’m able shake his legendary control.
Jezebel – Life in a gilded cage isn’t all it’s cracked up to be – especially if the whole purpose of the cage is to keep me a virgin till I’m ready to be sacrificed to the man of my father’s choosing. I want out, and don’t think I haven’t tried. It’s not that easy with daddy’s Brotherhood guards all over the place. But that doesn’t mean I want to trade one cage for another. And, let’s face it, I have no idea how to live on my own. I’ve never had the chance. Now I’m not sure I want to learn, because my new jailer – err, rescuer — is the sexiest man I’ve ever known. El Diablo’s not the monster everyone’s made him out to be. But can I tame the beast of a man without losing my heart? All I want for Christmas is a chance to find out…
El Diablo — I went hunting for a victim. Instead, I found a Christmas Angel. She’s the daughter of my enemy, used as a pawn in a deadly game of chess. All I really wanted was the Brotherhood out of Palm Beach. Instead I found an innocent who brings out a side of me I’d thought long buried and gone. But Jezebel’s younger than my own daughter, and just as much trouble. And I’m El Diablo — a title I earned heart and soul. I’m so not what she needs. And now she’s under my protection in the Black Reign compound. She should be completely off limits. I won’t let the Brotherhood take her back and force her to give up her dreams. But who’s going to protect her from me?
Esther glanced around her, then took my elbow and moved me toward one corner of the room where there weren’t many people. “What’s going on between you two?”
My guard went up instantly. I didn’t want the other women in the clubhouse thinking there was anything between Liam and me. “I have no idea what you mean,” I said evasively.
“Oh, come on, Jez. You’re living with him! The club girls say he’s not taken any of them to bed since you got here. Are the two of you a couple?”
“Not at all,” I said dismissively. “In fact, he made it perfectly clear to me he’s not interested in me, and that he’s not interested in a relationship with any woman.” I shrugged. “I guess he’s a free spirit.”
Esther’s laugh was merry and more than a little mischievous. “Then why does he come up behind you and wrap you up in his arms every time you’re in a room together?”
“Beats the fuck outta me.” I shrugged. “I’ve kissed him a couple of times, but he always stops, and he made it clear that sex with me is definitley not something he’s pursuing.” Kissed him a couple of times. Right. To say nothing of the mind-numbing orgasms he gave me two nights ago. No way I was spilling that, no matter how much I liked the other woman. As we talked, Celeste and Lyric approached with waves and friendly smiles.
Esther continued as the other two women joined us. “Did he say why?”
I waved her off. “It was all bullshit. I’m guessing it has something to do with our age and experience differences. I’ve lived in a gilded cage my whole life, and he’s been out living his. Any appeal I have to him would fade the second he takes my virginity, and I’m not too naive to admit it.”
“Who’re you guys talking about?” Lyric asked, her expression curious. “You got a man after you already, Jez?”
“El Diablo,” Esther said. “But I think Jez believes he’s just toying with her.”
Celeste frowned. “I’m sure it’s not like that. El Diablo is really a good man. I doubt he’d ever admit it, but he is.”
“Didn’t you tell me he offered to marry you when Wrath was being a douche?” I asked Celeste.
She grinned. “Yeah. I think that was more about Holly though. He wanted to make sure she was taken care of with her leukemia and all. He thought we needed a strong man to protect both of us and to make sure Holly got the care she needed.” She shook her head. “I believe he’d have gone through with it, but I also believe he did it more to make Wrath get his head out of his ass.”
“Maybe that’s what he’s doing with me. Though I have no idea who he’s trying to make jealous. The men in the compound barely talk to me. When they do, they make sure one of you girls or the children are with me.”
Lyric gave me a knowing smile. “That’s because El Diablo gives you ‘the look.’”
I frowned. “What look?”
“The one that lets every male with any modicum of sense know you’re his.” The girls burst into giggles, and I smiled.
“I doubt that’s the case,” I said. “Anyway, I’ve got guard duty tonight. I probably should get some sleep so I don’t fall asleep on the job.”
Liam chose that moment to appear in the doorway, scanning the room until his gaze landed on me. His grin was more than a little wicked. The woman giggled.
“Looks like you’re going to have to fight more than sleep,” Lyric said with a laugh. “In fact, I’d say you’d have better luck fighting sleep than keeping that man from seducing you tonight.”
“Trust me,” I said, “he’s not going to seduce me.”
“Uh huh.” Celeste grinned. “Keep telling yourself that.” They all three waved and sauntered off to help the kids decorate.
I frowned at Liam. “Are you trying to be cruel, or can you just not make up your mind?”
“It’s a process,” he answered with a smirk.
“Well you can just process the fact that I’m done with this. What the fuck?”
“That’s not what you were saying a couple of days ago.”
“Yeah? Well, that was before you left me high and dry for two days.” A stab of pain hit me, and I actually put my hand over my chest. “Have you been avoiding me? Because I already told you I wasn’t asking for permanent. I wasn’t even asking for anything after one that one time. I mean, surely you could have stood to be in my company one fucking night.”
“Trust me when I say I look forward to being in your company. I found it exceedingly enjoyable.” His smile was positively wicked. “But I hear you have a job?”
“I do,” I said, putting my shoulders back. “I’m making sure none of our decorations disappear.”
He gave me a knowing look. “I see. Well. If anyone can stop this Christmas Bandit that has the children so wound up, I’m certain it’s you.” He leaned down and brushed a kiss over my mouth. I shivered in reaction even as I pushed him away.
“Oh, no you don’t! Go away,” I said, making a shooing motion. “I’m done with all that!”
Romance author by night, emergency room tech/clerk by day, Marteeka Karland works really hard to drive everyone in her life completely and totally nuts. She has been creating stories from her warped imagination since she was in the third grade. Her love of writing blossomed throughout her teenage years until it developed into the totally unorthodox and irreverent style her English teachers tried so hard to rid her of. Now, she breathes life into faeries, space hunters, werewolves, vampires, shapeshifters, and a few just plane ole ordinary people. She loves to see the awkward, self-conscious band geek get the captain of the football team and make him beg for it.
Title: Yellowstone Wolf Author: Jaylee Austin Genre: Paranormal Romance
Her assignment leads her into the wilderness—right back to the man who stole her heart.
Leslie Starr thought she’d left her past behind when she’d joined the Shifter Federal Bureau of Investigation. Unfortunately, the series of violent crimes she’s investigating in Wyoming appear to target her best friend Grace, head of the SFBI… and the sister of her ex-fiancé, Roger.
Leslie’s never fit in with Roger’s wolf pack. She doesn’t do sweet, subservient, or small-town living. The fact that she still burns for Roger doesn’t help, especially now that he’s the alpha of his group and needs to claim a mate…
Roger Diego’s ranch near Jackson Hole is a safe haven for the Yellowstone Pack, and as their alpha, he’s expected to put their needs before his own—even when it means breaking his engagement to the woman he loves and embracing the life of a shifter over his human side.
When a dangerous criminal targets shifters in his area, Roger will do whatever he can to help catch them, including working with his captivating ex, Leslie. Roger knows Leslie is his mate and longs for her to submit to him, but he doubts she’d ever let any man claim her.
With his sister’s life on the line, they have to close this case—before their forbidden desires put the entire pack in danger.
“Grace.” My voice rang out across the living room. “Why in the hell are you putting a city girl in the hills of Wyoming right in the middle of a shifter town? She’ll stand out like the plague. No one will accept her. They associate her with the press.”
“That’s why we need her. She’s objective and not afraid to ruffle feathers.”
“I think you’re making a big mistake.” Sticking a human investigator in the midst of predator wolves without protection caused a tremor to race along my spine. I’d intentionally kept her safe from my world. No one knew of my dual blood line except my father’s family, my three best friends, and my assistant Sharon. All the others knew me as Roger Diego, alpha of the Yellowstone wolf pack.
A pang of remorse shot through me. The regret of leaving behind the only woman I’d truly loved. Breaking up with her was the hardest thing I’d ever done, but I’d been right. No one in the pack would accept a human as an alpha’s mate because of the chance of having human children. I was expected to choose a wife before the end of the next lunar cycle. I feared that being so close to Leslie I wouldn’t be able to turn from her again and fulfill my obligations as pack alpha.
“If you’re finished, I’ll explain my reason for bringing the two of you together.” She braced herself in front of me, placing both hands on her hips.
“This better be good.” I poured myself two fingers of whiskey.
“First, we need to identify the two shifters accused of harming Sheila. Second, someone is purposely focusing our attention on the warlock coven and I want to know why.”
“Earlier you swore David was behind the killings.”
“I believe he might be, but too many puzzle pieces aren’t fitting together. Why blatantly make it obvious and draw us to the coven?”
“Why send Leslie?”
“Because she knows how to uncover a story. And believe me after we start peeling away the layers none of us will be the same.”
“Is this connected to you?”
“I believe so.”
“How do you know?”
“A gut feeling.”
No way would we find the rogue shifters if Leslie went in with blazing fire. The packs protect their own. “Grace the rogues could be anywhere.”
“That’s why you’re taking Leslie to the council where she’ll conveniently mention an interest in finding these men. They didn’t vanish off the face of the earth.”
When Norman abducted Grace last year, I investigated and found nothing. My instincts told me Grace was right. The men were probably in plain sight. “Cornered wolves will put Leslie at risk. If the men believe she means them harm, they’ll kill her.”
“Leslie will stir up interest. I leave it to you, Trent, and Seth to send out your betas and bring them to DC. Find the shifters now.”
“After three years these men could be anywhere. The case has gone cold.”
Grace touched my arm. “David wants the shifters. I want to know why. If we follow the trail, I bet this goes deeper than a couple of rogue wolves accused of a crime. I’d bet David is knee deep in the stench of things.”
“What’s your other reason for Leslie’s involvement?” I broke from her gaze and sat in the Victorian chair closest to the window.
On any weekend you can find me surrounded by faeries, dragons, and angel figurines inspiring me with creative ideas. I live in Apple Valley, California and during the day I teach Language Arts. I inspire other young writers to reach for the stars and trust that they have a story to tell. Since childhood creating stories has always been a favorite hobby of mine. As an adult I’m grateful to write and share my thoughts with others. Happy reading and may the magic of life fill you with dreams of hope. Visit my website, instagram page, and pinterest to see update images of Tilly, my pug and I go on supernatural adventures.
When a girl disappears, long-buried secrets resurface…
Coco is missing. Her room’s a mess, and her phone is left behind in her dorm at Lainsbury Hall School
Ella, Coco’s childhood best friend, is desperate for her to return, although she knows that if she ever sees Coco again, there’ll be a lot of explaining to do.
Bea knows that her new group of friends attracts drama, and she thinks she has the last shred of common sense between them all. Only, if that was true, she would leave Genevieve, her toxic ex, well alone.
Conrad is confident that Coco will return safe and well. Only, the way his secrets are unravelling, he’s worried he won’t be when this is all over.
Harrison and Coco are the perfect couple. Everyone knows that. But looks can be misleading. Even the smartest boy in school can make a terrible mistake.
In order to navigate the web of secrets and lies that Coco leaves behind, her circle of friends needs to unravel a few of their own.
In the misty darkness lit only by a blue streetlamp, Ella knew that she was not alone. She turned and saw the faceless figure far down the drizzly street. It came towards her at speed. It didn’t seem to be moving, but she knew that it was gaining on her. She started to run, but her legs would not move. She was stuck, as though in quicksand.
When she dared check over her shoulder once again, the figure was only about five steps away, and she could see raspy breaths escape the black silhouette in a wispy white cloud. The scene whirred in front of Ella as she pulled on her legs, sobbing, begging them to move. But they would not. All she could hear was the breathing, slow and rattling, as though it was the figure’s very last. Four. Three. Two.
It was the skeletal hand on her shoulder that woke her. In the darkness of her room, she was alone. She turned her alarm off and felt uneasy in the silence. She was soaking wet, her back from sweat, her face from tears.
She washed her face, hardly daring to open her eyes and look into the mirror above the sink. She felt watched, hunted. As she brushed her teeth, she turned on all her lights and opened the dreary brown curtains that Lainsbury Hall School had placed in all the dorms. But even in her bright vanity lamps that took over her dressing table, drowning her in bright white light as she did her make up, her eyes darted around the corners of her mirrors, checking all angles of the room in the reflection for the faceless spectre. She was not herself today. Then again, she hadn’t been herself yesterday, either.
VB Furlong is a trainee lawyer and writer of young adult novels living in Berkshire, UK. She wrote her first “novel” at aged ten and has not stopped since then. Through her writing she aims to explore many of the issues she faced herself growing up, in the hopes that others facing the same issues feel some solidarity. Her friendships are a huge part of her life and consequently is a major theme in her writing, exploring the way in which we interact with each other, especially in difficult times.
Originally from Mumbles, Swansea, VB Furlong enjoys the sun and the sea, and walking her three dogs across the cliffs. These walks have offered her inspiration for many pieces of writing, including What Happened to Coco which she is excited to introduce as a coming of age boarding school thriller.
Stefan Dalca is beautiful, brooding, and bossy. He’s also public enemy number one in this small town, with a murky past that’s hard to overlook. And I just agreed to three fake dates with him.
I may be a renowned veterinarian, but when I find myself in a sticky situation, Stefan is my last hope. I need his help to save a sick foal and what he wants in return is me.
Our time together starts out as a simple transaction, but the more time I spend with him, the more I wonder if he’s not quite the villain they’ve made him out to be. With every intimate conversation and lingering look, the tension between us builds. I’ve been drawn to Stefan since the first day I laid eyes on him. And now he’s downright irresistible.
I know sleeping with the enemy is playing with fire. But like a moth to a flame, I’m attracted to the mysterious man in a way I can’t explain—in a way those closest to me wouldn’t approve of or understand.
And the more he softens for me, the harder I fall.
But as his mysteries unravel, so do hidden truths. Truths that are bound to leave someone burned.
Elsie Silver is a Canadian author of sassy, sexy, small town romance who loves a good book boyfriend and the strong heroines who bring them to their knees. She lives just outside of Vancouver, British Columbia with her husband, son, and three dogs and has been voraciously reading romance books since before she was probably supposed to.
She loves cooking and trying new foods, traveling, and spending time with her boys–especially outdoors. Elsie has also become a big fan of her quiet five am mornings, which is when most of her writing happens. It’s during this time that she can sip a cup of hot coffee and dream up a fictional world full of romantic stories to share with her readers.
