Actor Tucker Crawford is having the worst summer ever.
Thanks to a viral video of him trying to swim, he’s the laughingstock of Hollywood and his
role in a hit TV series is in jeopardy. The only bright spot is Tucker’s sexy new swim coach,
Reed Oliver, but even that has its problems—because Tucker is deep in the closet and has
never been with a guy.
Reed Oliver is having the best summer ever. He’s just scored
a high-paying freelance gig teaching a Hollywood actor how to swim. The two of them have
the run of a deserted summer camp, complete with an Olympic-size swimming pool. But
when cocky playboy Reed meets shy, virgin Tucker, sparks fly and Reed’s walk-in-the-park
coaching job becomes a minefield of temptation. Once they kiss for the first time, there’s no
way to overcome their mutual passion and no looking back. But after two weeks of secluded
intimacy, can they keep their romance alive in the real world?
Excerpt
“Are you awake?”
Tucker’s voice was hoarse in the dark, barely above a
whisper to match the surreal nature of the moment. All the same, Reed responded in kind,
his voice as husky and hoarse as the deep, dark night that surrounded the rustic cabin, filling
it with quiet mystery and the by-now-familiar thrum of humid temptation. “Of
course.”
Tucker snorted, just shy of a chuckle and mixed with a quiet
gurgle of relief. He wasn’t sure what he would have done if Reed had answered with a snort
or a snore and then rolled over and gone back to sleep. He’d been waiting for over an hour
to make his move, so he shifted over on his mattress and lifted himself up on one elbow to
peer over the bottom bunk to the floor directly by his bed.
He smirked and rolled his eyes, trying his best to be
alluring. “What are you doing down there, anyway?”
“You were so drunk last night.” Reed glanced up from the
fuzzy striped comforter splayed out beneath him, “I didn’t want you to roll out of bed and
bust your head open.”
Tucker struggled to retain his composure at Reed’s half-
naked form, sprawled out on the floor literally at his feet. Moonlight caressed his quietly
grinning face in a most flattering way. “What were you gonna do, catch me in your
sleep?”
“If I had to, yeah.”
He slid his hands beneath his chin and gazed down at Reed
the way teenage girls stared at the posters of rock stars and screen idols from old black-and-
white movies on their walls. “Besides, I wasn’t that drunk.”
Reed made a face. “Okay, bud.”
Tucker was hungry. And thirsty. And hard as a rail beneath
his boxer briefs, pressed thick and tight against the mattress beneath him. “Well, I’m not
now.”
Reed lay flat on his back, looking up, as if he’d been waiting
for Tucker to open his eyes and look down at him. He lifted his hands and gave a little golf
clap, the soft sound vaguely startling in the middle of the night. Outside the screen door,
only a stray cricket chirped in the deep stillness of the forest. “Congrats. I guess I can get into
an actual bed now?”
Reed made no move to leave, and Tucker was glad. He was
enjoying the view—every smooth, savory, moonlit inch of it. Before Reed could stand, to
make good on his promise, Tucker slid one hand away from beneath his chin and pressed it
flat against Reed’s chest. It was warm and hard and lean and softly humid in the cabin’s
almost stifling heat. It was also beating like a jackrabbit. The feel—the pulse—of Reed’s
pounding, frantic heart was vaguely encouraging.
“Let’s not be too hasty, now.”
Reed’s playful smile froze into something less than amused,
if not quite startled. He didn’t say anything, not right away, but it was clear he wanted
Tucker to move his hand. So he did. Moved it just a smidge lower down Reed’s chest and
drifted it lazily toward his suddenly stiff nipples.
“Tucker, stop.” Reed’s voice was a groan, his words a lie.
Every fiber of his being, every slick sheen of sweat and rat-a-tat of his pounding heart, every
thrum of vibration throughout his taut, pale skin said, “Go,” not “Stop.”
About the Author
Alex Winters is the
pseudonym of a busy restaurant manager whose curious young staff would love nothing
more than to follow him around the dining room reading his steamiest, most romantic
passages aloud! When not writing romantic holiday stories of various heat levels, he enjoys
long walks with his wife, scary movies and smooth jazz. Visit him at www.awintersromance.com to see what
stories are brewing up next!
An actress with a secret, a journalist with a dream, and
forbidden love that could change everything.
Blurb Desperate to save her family’s dying magazine, love
is the last thing on 26-year-old Daphne Fernandez’s mind when she agrees to go undercover
as a makeup artist to scoop a juicy story on the city’s most popular telenovela star. But a
spur-of-the-moment kiss makes it more complicated. A cheating boyfriend might not be
Bombshell Bridget’s only secret.
Bridget Blake has only ever wanted one thing in her life: to
be herself. But her overbearing momanger insists showing the world who she really is would
mean the death of her blossoming career. So when the new makeup artist fights her way
under Bridget’s perfectly moisturized, paparazzi-proof skin, it’s everything she can do to
keep the façade in place. Until one spontaneous kiss turns her world upside down. With
Daphne, Bridget is the brave, fun-loving, take-no-prisoners girl she’s always wanted to be.
But embracing her new self may mean leaving behind everything she’s ever worked for. Is
love really worth it?
Book two in the standalone sapphic celebrity romance series Entertaining Love.
Excerpt The Meet Cute
A movement catches my attention as I hesitantly reach for a
shimmering eyeshadow palette young woman with black curly hair and gold-rimmed glasses
browses the store with ease. Her hands expertly select items from the shelves as she
navigates the space in her manual wheelchair.
She looks up a second later, and her brown eyes meet mine
with a flicker of recognition. She freezes, pursing her lips before finally rolling towards me
with a warm smile.
“Hi there.” Her voice is soft and melodic with a hint of a
Hispanic accent.. “Welcome to the Mystic Beauty. I couldn’t help but notice you look a bit
lost. Can I help you find something?”
I adopt an affected Southern drawl. The last thing I need is
for my stupidity about something as simple as make-up to be splattered all over the tabloids.
“I, um, I’m just looking for some makeup…” Well, duh. I mentally facepalm myself.
Why else would I be here? I pluck one from a nearby display and hold it up with an
exaggerated flourish. “Clearly, I’m a bit lost.”
“Of course!” she replies, wheeling next to me and holding
out her free hand. “I’m Daphne.”
“Nice to meet you, Daphne,” I say. “I’m… Sarah.”
“Sarah” is the first name that comes to mind, and I hope it’s
generic enough not to invite suspicion. Daphne’s hand is warm and steady as she shakes
mine, and I can’t help but be grateful for her genuine kindness.
“Alright, Sarah,” she says, releasing my hand and gesturing
toward a display of eyeshadow palettes. “Let’s find you something that suits your
style.”
As we navigate the aisles, Daphne explains different
products and techniques easily. After a few minutes, I no longer feel like an idiot for asking
one too many questions I should definitely already know the answer to after so many years
in the film industry. But rather someone just trying to take the time to learn a new trade.
The longer we wander through the aisles, the more. I find myself becoming intrigued by this
mysterious woman who clearly has a passion for her craft.
“Can I ask about your makeup?” I ask, admiring the delicate
lines of gold and silver that frame her brown eyes. “It’s stunning.”
“Thank you,” A blush colors her cheeks and I bite back a
smile of my own. She’s cute when she’s flustered. “I’m an aspiring special effects makeup
artist. I love playing with different styles and trying new things.”
“Wow,” I exhale softly. “That’s really amazing.” It’s not just
her skill that impresses me, but the genuine joy in her expression. Just saying the word
seems to light up the room, and I can’t help craving more of it from her. As we continue our
conversation, I slowly lower my sunglasses, allowing Daphne to see my green eyes.
“By the way, if you ever need any help or advice in the
future, feel free to reach out to me,” She hands me a small business card with her contact
information. “You seem like someone who could use a friend.”
I take the card with a grateful smile.
“I may just have to take you up on that.” I wink, and we
share a laugh. My heart skips a bit, and my chest as a blush pinkens her cheeks.
“Great!” Daphne smiles warmly as she expertly navigates
her wheelchair down the aisles, pointing out more products and explaining their uses. I
listen intently, absorbing every word like a sponge. “Primer is important for long-lasting
makeup,” she explains, handing me a small tube to examine. “And don’t forget about setting
powder!”
“Good to know,” I muse, turning the tub between my
fingers. “You know my makeup artist was recently fired,” I confess quietly, glancing around
and relieved to find out the store is mostly empty. “It’s been really frustrating trying to find
someone new who understands my style.”
Daphne’s features soften with sympathy. “I’m sorry to hear
that. What kind of look were you going for?”
I hesitate, dipping my head down and running my hands
along my arms. “I’m… honestly not sure. I don’t know as much about makeup as I probably
should.”
Her eyes light up, and she squeezes my hand. That’s OK. We
can figure it out together. I actually have some ideas if you’re interested.”
“Really?” My heart flutters with anticipation. “I would love
that.”
As we continue to explore the store, Daphne’s passion and
creativity spark my own. I can’t help but feel drawn to her, her talent and kindness shining
through with every word. The longer we talk, the more amazed I am that this woman barely
knows me has already offered me more understanding and support than most people in my
life.
“Thank you, Daphne,” I murmur, briefly taking her hand in
mine. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”
“Of course.” As we stand between shelves of sparkling
eyeshadows and vibrant lipsticks, I watch Daphne’s deft fingers pluck an iridescent shade
from its perch. The glittering powder dusts her fingertips as she swipes it gently across my
hand, creating a shimmering arc of color. “This would look amazing on you,” she says,
grinning. “It’ll bring out the green in your eyes.”
“Wow, that’s beautiful,” I breathe, captivated by the way
the light dances across the tiny flecks of pigment. “Do you really think I could pull it
off?”
Daphne smiles bashfully and flicks her hand through the air.
I’m sure you could pull anything off.” She laughs, and I can’t help but feel a flutter in my
chest. The way her eyes crinkle at the corners and her lips curve into a smile… it’s all so
enticing.
For the rest of the afternoon, Daphne guides me through
the store, picking out different shades and colors for me to try on.
Daphne’s face lights up as we pause by a display of
elaborate prosthetics. “I love special effects makeup,” she confesses as she gently fingers
one of the masks. “It’s such a powerful way to transform someone and tell a story.”
“Really? Did you study it?”
Daphne nods, but her smile dims. “I did, but finding work
has been difficult, especially because of my disability. Some people just can’t see past the
wheelchair.”
A pulse of anger flares through me, but I stamp it down. This woman is a stranger. I remind myself. Still, I hate how judgmental people can be. “I’m
sorry, Daphne. That’s so unfair.”
“Thank you.” Her brown eyes meet mine and my throat
dries up. “But I won’t let it stop me. I know what I’m capable of, and someday, the right
opportunity will come along.”
Her determination and resilience never cease to amaze me.
Nodding I plant my hands on my hips. “I know it will.” Suddenly, an idea takes root in my
mind. A bold, daring idea that could change both our lives. “Daphne,” I begin, my voice
wavering with nerves. “I have a proposition for you.”
She tips her head to the side and I grin.
“Would you consider being my personal makeup artist?”
The words tumble out before I can second-guess myself. “I know it’s not special effects, but I
think together, we could create something amazing.”
The faint scent of lavender fills my nostrils as I watch
Daphne’s eyes dart back and forth. Her fingers tap the armrest of her wheelchair, betraying
her uncertainty.
“I… I don’t know, Bridget,” she hedges, looking down at her
lap. “I’m so honored, but… I can’t I just started down at the warehouse and I can’t just
abandon my crew.”
Oh. My heart sinks. “Of course. But if you change your
mind…”
“Gracias.” Daphne smiles weakly, the gold rims of her
glasses catching the store’s fluorescent lights.
“De nada,” I murmur softly, warmth blossoming in my
chest.
“Now, let’s get back to finding the perfect makeup for you,
shall we?”
The corners of her mouth lift into a genuine smile, and I
watch as her hands deftly select products, her fingers moving with practiced ease despite
the tremors that sometimes betray her. Her passion for her craft is evident in every gesture,
and it only strengthens my belief that she’s the perfect person for the job.
“Thank you, Daphne, “I say as she bags up all my purchases
a few minutes later.
She smiles, and my pulse speeds up again. “You’re
welcome, Sarah. I’m just glad I could help.” She folds the last of my purchases into the bag
and hands it over to me with a nod.
Daphne’s cheeks flame scarlet as I scrawl my number on
her hand. “Here,” I say, trying not to let my embarrassment show. “If you ever change your
mind, feel free to call or text any time.”
Her gaze flits between the numbers and me. Finally, she
gives a small nod and murmurs her thanks. As I back away, feeling oddly proud of myself for
taking such a risk, Daphne watches me go with an intensity that leaves me slightly
breathless.
About the Author
Claerie Kavanaugh has spent
most of her life telling stories, but she never imagined herself writing romance. In fact, she
used to think it should only be reserved for Hallmark movies. It wasn’t until college, when
she discovered fanfiction, that she learned what romance was truly about: not just fluffy
relationships and happily-ever-afters, but human connection, the desire to push one another
to be better, and create hope that somewhere, somehow, everyone has
someone.
When she’s not writing, she
loves to travel and explore new cultures, helping other authors polish their works as a
freelance editor, and singing while doing so. Broadway musicals are her soul-food,
something her mother and sister know well. She constantly blasts the newest soundtrack
through the halls of their Missouri home, much to the chagrin of her very sassy and spoiled
cat.
A dead prostitute. A mysterious meeting. And a
retiring cop set on righting past wrongs…
Blurb
Kyoto mafia don Nao Murata is enjoying a quiet reign. Now that his boyfriend,
Aki Hisona, has a clean bill of health, they can finally have some much-needed intimate time.
If only a persistent detective wasn’t about to throw a wrench in those plans.
Aki’s ready to fully consummate their relationship, but Nao doesn’t appreciate
his scandalous flirting in the office. Being left alone to deal with one of Nao’s top men, Aki
ends up learning about a secret that puts a crack in Nao’s control.
Amidst worries about whether they’re as compatible between the sheets as
they are on the streets, Nao and Aki are forced to work with the police to cement Nao’s
reign. As the secret begins to unravel, they’re pulled deeper into a treacherous game of cat
and mouse.
Now it’s no longer just their love life they have to fight for…
Prelude to Decay is the seventh book of The Yakuza Path thriller series. If you enjoy gripping
suspense, authentic Japanese traditions, and a healthy dose of gay drama, then you’ll
devour Amy Tasukada’s latest instalment.
About the Author
International best-selling
author Amy Tasukada writes thrilling times of crime, love, and gore. Readers who crave
diverse characters, unique settings, and edge-of-your-seat action will devour her Yakuza Path series. Readers who seek less blood and more love will swoon over the Yakuza Path Romance and Would it Be Okay
to Love You? Series. Amy is an atheist, queer
author who enjoys drinking tea, Japanese street fashion and visual kei music. Her calico cat,
O’Hara, is never far from her side. Amy lives in North Texas, but is always planning her next
trip to Japan.
Book Title: Love
Beneath the Stars: A Matchmaker Wedding Novella
Author: Claerie Kavanaugh
Publisher: Half Caff Press
Cover Artist: Lauren Dombrowski
Release Date: April 26, 2023
Genres: Contemporary F/F Romance
Tropes: Age gap, celebrity, matchmaker, wedding
Themes: Coming out, forgiveness
Heat Rating: 3
flames
Length: 30 000
words
It is a standalone story in the
Entertaining Love series.
They say love conquers all,
but what if getting it means losing your family?
Blurb
After years of searching, a job
gone wrong finally led Hollywood’s most famous matchmaker Eve to her soulmate in up-
and-coming starlet Jemma Mason. For a year, they had pictured their perfect destination
Valentine’s Day wedding. But when Jemma’s family arrives from Montana, they quickly learn
perfection is hard to come by.
Jemma’s conservative brother
has always been distant, but when he meets his sister’s fiancée, who is seven years her
senior, he worries she’s moving way too fast and refuses to come to the wedding, let alone
keep his promise to walk her down the aisle. Can love really conquer all, or are there some
wounds that simply run too deep to be buried?
Eve and Jemma’s Wedding Novella. Sequel to LOVE AMONG
THE STARS in the standalone sapphic celebrity romance series ENTERTAINING LOVE.
About the Author
Claerie Kavanaugh has spent
most of her life telling stories, but she never imagined herself writing romance. In fact, she
used to think it should only be reserved for Hallmark movies. It wasn’t until college, when
she discovered fanfiction, that she learned what romance was truly about: not just fluffy
relationships and happily-ever-afters, but human connection, the desire to push one another
to be better, and create hope that somewhere, somehow, everyone has
someone.
When she’s not writing, she
loves to travel and explore new cultures, helping other authors polish their works as a
freelance editor, and singing while doing so. Broadway musicals are her soul-food,
something her mother and sister know well. She constantly blasts the newest soundtrack
through the halls of their Missouri home, much to the chagrin of her very sassy and spoiled
cat.
Book Title: Love
Beneath the Stars: A Matchmaker Wedding Novella
Author: Claerie Kavanaugh
Publisher: Half Caff Press
Cover Artist: Lauren Dombrowski
Release Date: April 26, 2023
Genres: Contemporary F/F Romance
Tropes: Age gap, celebrity, matchmaker, wedding
Themes: Coming out, forgiveness
Heat Rating: 3
flames
Length: 30 000
words
It is a standalone story in the
Entertaining Love series.
They say love conquers all,
but what if getting it means losing your family?
Blurb
After years of searching, a job
gone wrong finally led Hollywood’s most famous matchmaker Eve to her soulmate in up-
and-coming starlet Jemma Mason. For a year, they had pictured their perfect destination
Valentine’s Day wedding. But when Jemma’s family arrives from Montana, they quickly learn
perfection is hard to come by.
Jemma’s conservative brother
has always been distant, but when he meets his sister’s fiancée, who is seven years her
senior, he worries she’s moving way too fast and refuses to come to the wedding, let alone
keep his promise to walk her down the aisle. Can love really conquer all, or are there some
wounds that simply run too deep to be buried?
Eve and Jemma’s Wedding Novella. Sequel to LOVE AMONG
THE STARS in the standalone sapphic celebrity romance series ENTERTAINING LOVE.
About the Author
Claerie Kavanaugh has spent
most of her life telling stories, but she never imagined herself writing romance. In fact, she
used to think it should only be reserved for Hallmark movies. It wasn’t until college, when
she discovered fanfiction, that she learned what romance was truly about: not just fluffy
relationships and happily-ever-afters, but human connection, the desire to push one another
to be better, and create hope that somewhere, somehow, everyone has
someone.
When she’s not writing, she
loves to travel and explore new cultures, helping other authors polish their works as a
freelance editor, and singing while doing so. Broadway musicals are her soul-food,
something her mother and sister know well. She constantly blasts the newest soundtrack
through the halls of their Missouri home, much to the chagrin of her very sassy and spoiled
cat.
The ruler of the sprites meets a proud, but wayward harpy. Will their love survive a little trickery?
Blurb
At eighteen, Warrior Chieftain Kitlivri Cyrrien of the Sprite Grove gained his title. On a dark night, Kitlivri lost his parents, sister, and nearly his entire population thanks to a horrid wizard potion. The Draconises took in him and his brothers, and Kitlivri gradually healed. Now he is a talented businessman, and the sprites have expanded by three dozen. Honored to be the Warrior Chieftain, Kitlivri does not want to give up his important role in Draconis Enterprises, but he believes it’s a necessity.
Jace Pagonis is a proud harpy, but he chafes at his people’s antiquated rules. When Jace isn’t arguing with his mother—the leader of the harpies—he’s sneaking around to improve his archery skills. Weapons and tricks are forbidden to harpy men but are necessary for the women, who are responsible for the men’s survival. Desperate to convince his mother to join the Council, Jace creeps out of his village one night to explore.
Two weeks into his fact-finding mission, Jace meets Kitlivri and is stunned to discover that Fate has selected them as mates. Jace misses home, but he cannot leave Kitlivri, nor does he want to explain to the courageous sprite that he’s the bratty son of the harpy ruler. Jace throws himself into life as Kitlivri’s other half and co-leader of the sprites, but weaves tales to avoid the truth. However, secrets never stay hidden for long, and Jace must face his lies or risk losing Kitlivri forever.
Excerpt
Jace scratched his head and tried to make sense of their conversation. “You want to bind our souls for eternity but be just friends for now?”
“Is that such a horrible thing? We did already agree not to rush intimacy.”
“Yes, but you also mentioned you were interested in kisses. I’m confused,” Jace said. “I’m not against going slow, I just want to make sure I understand. I don’t want to do or say the wrong thing. I’ve spent my entire life disappointing people with my inability to fall in line with their expectations. I’d like to avoid that in the future.”
“I don’t have a strict timeline in my head of when I think we should move from friends to lovers or whatever. As we get to know one another, I think we will figure it out.”
“I understand,” Jace said. “Perhaps it’s something we can discuss in the future.”
“Communication is definitely key to a good matebond.”
Although Jace understood Kitlivri had experienced tremendous loss, it was deflating to think they were entering another lie. Among harpies, there was no bargaining with Fate when it came to her choices for a person. Fate chose mates and leaders, and she guided the decisions of her chosen. This was honored without question.
Though Jace flaunted his mother’s rules, his parents had a love that was indisputable. His older sister had her other half too and was rarely seen without the woman Fate had picked for her.
The rebellious part of Jace that wanted to forge his own path should’ve applauded Kitlivri’s desire to ensure that what Fate did aligned with his desires for his life. Instead, Jace wondered if the Warrior Chieftain was already displeased by him.
A voice in his head told him he was being unfair and should pay more heed to Kitlivri’s words about his devastated family, so Jace set aside his unkind feelings. Kitlivri was scared, and it was Jace’s role to support him, not question his motives.
“Yes, it is,” Jace said and somehow managed not to cringe since he’d already told lies and half-truths to Kitlivri. Jace wasn’t proud of his dishonesty, his unkind thoughts about Kitlivri’s desire to take their relationship slowly, or himself, in the general sense. It wasn’t until Jace had left his mother’s village that he’d understood how little confidence he truly had, and he was clueless about how to mend himself.
“I’m sorry I’ve upset you.”
“No, you haven’t,” Jace said. “I assure you I’m fine with moving slow. I’m upsetting myself by being foolish, and I understand why caring for someone must terrify you. Thank you for being courageous enough to share that with me. In time, I hope to offer you the same honesty.”
“Love is scary, but I’m already committed to being your best friend.”
The closest thing Jace had to a friend was his father, and Zephyr’s priority was, understandably, his mate.
“I’ve never had a best friend. I’d like to be yours,” said Jace.
“We might even find that we like each other.”
Jace grinned. “You have a growing list of attributes, Kit.”
“As do you.”
“Are you ready to do this matebond thing now?” Jace asked.
“I’m nervous, but yes.”
“Good, I’m glad I’m not the only one.”
Kitlivri held out his hand, and Jace didn’t hesitate to take it. “Did I thank you for agreeing to nearly every D’Vaire tradition?”
“Excuse me? I agreed to them all. You’re the one who was worried some of the feather markings on my skin would disappear if we did those tattoo-like mating marks,” Jace argued.
“I’m a fan of your feathers. Are you okay with sharing a bedroom with me tonight? I’d rather it be no one’s business but our own that we’re postponing intimacy.”
“I think I can handle my desire to ravish you.”
“I’m hoping I have the same ability to resist you,” Kitlivri said. “You are captivating.”
“Not a horrible thing to hear from a handsome man.”
“Am I allowed to call you that too, or will it offend you?” Kitlivri asked.
“As long as you see me as more than the face Fate gave me, you may comment on it as much as you like.”
“Or I could compliment you on other features.”
“I might be harpy enough to enjoy them too.”
“Jace, will you be my mate today?” Kitlivri asked.
“Yes. Yes, I will.”
Jace’s future was a blurry road with no destination in sight, but Fate had given him someone to travel it with, and he would do his best to rise to the challenges ahead.
About the Author
Jessamyn Kingley has published over thirty titles and refuses to pick a favorite among them. With an extraordinary passion for her characters, she enthusiastically adds tales to her D’Vaire series and avidly re-reads them whenever her schedule allows. After decades living in the Washington, DC area, she now resides in Nevada with her husband and their three spoiled cats. When she is not writing or adding new ideas to her beloved notebooks, she is gaming with family and friends.
A sorrowful reaper with
a heart encased in ice. A lonely rock star who walked away from everything. What chance do
they have at love?
Blurb
Ripped apart by life, Lich Reaper Grymington Daray is
drowning in sorrow. Each day, he strives to find the people responsible for killing his best
friend, and he wishes his own existence had more meaning. The last thing on Grymington’s
mind is finding the other half of his soul. While a loving family surrounds him, the coldness
growing in his heart keeps him separated from joy.
Decades ago, Devlin Nero ran away from the world. Being a
rock star was everything Devlin wanted, but it turned into a nightmare. Now, the enchanter-
human hybrid is living alone and surrounded by nothing but fading memories. Desperate for
happiness, Devlin makes his way to the Council of Sorcery and Shifters and winds up at a
sanctuary designed for freaks like him.
On a fateful day, Grymington and Devlin discover they are
mates. Sparks fly, and the two men venture forth to honor Fate’s choice for them. However,
Grymington is too lost and much too fearful to allow Devlin near his tattered soul. Devlin
wants love, but the Lich Reaper may not be able to offer it. If their confusing relationship
isn’t enough, they have pasts to reconcile, and the future will not wait. It will be up to
Grymington and Devlin to discover if they have a matebond worth saving.
Excerpt
Strange feelings fluttered through Grymington that made
little sense as he strode toward the great room, but the erection that tented his jeans the
moment he put a sneaker into the space took him by surprise.
A rush of pumpkin spice filled his senses, and Grymington
nearly smiled; he loved fall. But he was unnerved by the stiff dick in his pants and the
knowledge of what a newly found sexuality meant for him. His gaze went unerringly to a
stranger staring at Grymington with his mouth slightly ajar. The shocked expression didn’t
mar the man’s masculine beauty. Nothing could disguise the sensuality in his pink lips or rob
his electric blue eyes of their intensity.
Although there was a messiness to his hair, something in
Grymington told him it was purposeful and nothing like the typically tousled mops of
sentinels who refused to bother with grooming products or even running a comb through
their tresses after training. The black strands hung in thick layers accented by the same blue
of his magnificent irises.
Somehow, this man was Grymington’s mate. What the hell
could Grymington offer anyone? How could he be responsible for a relationship? Then again,
what kind of person would it make Grymington if he walked away from him?
“…and this is Lich Reaper Grymington Daray, though
everyone calls him Grymmie,” Dra’Kaedan said. “Grymmie, this is Devlin D’Vaire.”
The rock star who’d mysteriously disappeared was
Grymington’s mate, and the reaper could barely get his feet in motion again to move toward
him.
The man was about five inches taller than Grymington and
wearing faded jeans torn in several spots. Paired with the denim, the newest member of the
D’Vaires wore a collarless button down which was half tucked into his pants.
The thin material hung loosely and nearly hid the thick
dragonskin belt. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing tattoos over both forearms, but
Grymington could not appreciate the art from such a distance. Grymington sidled
fractionally closer and wondered what the fuck he was doing.
Devlin chuckled, and the throaty sound punched
Grymington in the gut.
“Unreal,” the hybrid breathed out.
He was new to the Council and likely didn’t know that it
was traditional to announce to loved ones the moment two mates met, so Grymington lifted
his chin. The Lich Reaper wanted to run and had absolutely no clue how to handle this latest
development in his life, but he would not be a coward.
“Dra’Kaedan, thanks for introducing me to my mate,”
Grymington said.
The Grand Warlock blinked and whooped loudly.
“Fate’s sake, did everyone hear that?” he yelled.
Brogan slapped his hands over his ears. “Sensitive shifter
hearing, Baby. I’m standing right fucking next to you, you don’t have to scream.”
Across from Grymington, Devlin licked his top lip in a way
that made the reaper’s belly flop, then smirked. “A pleasure to meet you, Grymmie.”
“Yeah, great to meet you too,” Grymington murmured, his
rush of bravery long gone.
With the left corner of his mouth still lifted wryly, Devlin
bent down onto one knee and carefully lifted his hand toward Hekate, who padded close to
sniff him.
“And who is this lovely lady?”
“That’s Hekate,” Daemon Lord Baxter Daray stated as he
stalked into the room with his mate, Benton. “Grymmie’s dog.”
“I think he figured out that Hekate is a dog,” Benton
muttered.
“You’ll never guess what,” Dra’Kaedan remarked and
clenched his fists with excitement.
“Squirt, let Devlin and Grymmie get a chance to tell people
things,” High King Aleksander said to the Grand Warlock.
For as long as Grymington had known the pair, they’d
teased each other. While Dra’Kaedan had a plethora of nicknames for Aleksander, the
warlock was always Squirt to the High King.
“The excitement might kill me, Tallosaur, but okay,”
Dra’Kaedan replied and grabbed Grymington. He’d snagged Grymington so swiftly, the
reaper nearly fell into the warlock who was holding him so tightly it was hard to suck in a
breath. “Congratulations.”
“Why are we congratulating Grymmie?” Lich Sentinel Alaric
Daray asked as he walked into the room.
“They haven’t told us yet,” Baxter complained.
Since Devlin was still on the floor with Hekate, who’d
allowed the singer to smother her with pets, Grymington supposed it fell to him to make the
announcement. Excitement was undoubtedly expected of him, but he couldn’t feel anything
other than fear.
“Devlin is my mate,” Grymington stated as Dra’Kaedan
released him.
Whether it was the fact that Grymington’s voice lacked any
inflection or the surprise of his family gathering in the D’Vaire great room, silence reigned
for several tense moments.
About the Author
Jessamyn Kingley lives in
Nevada where she begs the men in her head to tell her their amazing stories which she
dutifully writes it all down in what has become a small mountain of notebooks. She falls in
love with each couple and swears whatever book she wrote last is her absolute
favorite.
Jessamyn is married and
working toward remembering to start the dishwasher without being distracted by the scent
of the magical detergent. For personal enjoyment, she aids in cat rescue while slashing and
gashing her way through mobs in various MMORPGs. Caffeine is her very best friend and is
only cast aside briefly for the sin better known as BBQ potato chips.
Perfection comes in many
forms, and true courage is beautiful.
Blurb
Preston Hawthorneonca-Stone is a warrior. In a fit of rage,
his father changed Preston’s life on a horrible day in 1994. Now a brain injury survivor,
Preston lives with his brother and their growing family. A recent addition to the Council of
Sorcery and Shifters, Preston has landed his dream job of working with animals.
Resurrected in 1995, Ridgely Walsh is dedicated to his job
and the tightknit group of friends he considers family. With his penchant for honesty, Ridgely
is the level-headed and sometimes hard-assed member of their little group. Ridgely doesn’t
play foolish games, and he accepts people at face value.
Although Ridgely yearns for a mate, nothing prepares him
for the moment he meets Preston. The beautiful jaguar-human hybrid with the big brown
eyes halts Ridgely in his tracks. Ridgely rapidly discovers his true purpose is to be a good
partner to his other half. Preston is equally taken with Ridgely but fears how the fallen knight
will handle his imperfections. Together, they must navigate the path Fate chose for them and
discover what it means to love unconditionally.
Excerpt
As Preston walked to the table, Ridgely rose and
immediately understood by the hitch in the hybrid’s gate that his slow speech wasn’t the
only unique thing about him. Ridgely’s mind processed that information. In the Council
world, they staffed hospitals and clinics with druids capable of mending nearly every malady.
What they could not fix was anything in the brain and some issues in the spinal cord.
Ridgely wondered if Preston had been born with some
anomaly or if he’d suffered an accident. As a human hybrid, Preston was more delicate than
an average shifter, but neither that nor his physical challenges bothered Ridgely. His curiosity
was genuine, but Ridgely would allow Preston to reveal his secrets in his own time. When his
mate was ready, Ridgely hoped to understand what set him apart, but it was one of the
many things intriguing about Preston.
With a smile, Ridgely circled the table and aided Preston
into his seat.
“I’m so glad to see you,” Ridgely told Preston.
“I’m sorry I walk slow,” Preston replied, consternation
making his brow furrow, and he locked his gaze on the shiny white plates on the
table.
His lips pursed, Ridgely strode to his chair and sat. “I can’t
imagine why you’re apologizing to me for how you walk. It makes no difference to me how
you get to the table, just as long as you’re here.”
Preston’s dimples deepened as he lifted his head and
smiled at Ridgely. “Dates are scary.”
“Right? I changed my shirt three times.”
“I picked mine out yesterday. My family helped.”
Their server appeared and took their drink orders. Ridgely
went with a beer, while Preston chose a raspberry tea.
“I feel bad that I’m drinking and you’re not,” Ridgely
said.
With a twist of his mouth, Preston’s thick lashes concealed
his dark eyes. “I have to take some medications, and I’m not supposed to have alcohol with
them.”
“I hope you don’t feel like apologizing for that too.”
Preston pulled his lips in, and humor danced in his gaze. “I
was considering it.”
“Believe it or not, I figured that out. Your face is pretty
expressive.”
“I know. It makes me a terrible liar.”
Ridgely chuckled. “That’s fine with me. I’m not a fan of
dishonesty.”
“I don’t like it either.”
“Let’s decide what we’re ordering so we can compare notes
and find more things in common.”
“Okay,” Preston said. “Have you eaten here
before?”
“Once. I had steak, I think. I remember the food being
delicious.”
Their drinks arrived, and they informed the server of their
choices of cuisine. The server took the menus and left them alone again.
“I have a hard time remembering things,” Preston informed
Ridgely quietly. His lanky frame tensed, and Ridgely’s instinct was to soothe the troubled
man. “Jordan used to make me lists for my daily hygiene and other routine tasks. Without
them, I’d forget to do the basics like brushing my teeth, taking my medications, putting
everything I need for the day in my bag, and feeding my kittens.”
“Sounds to me like you guys approached a problem and
found a workable solution.”
“You have a positive attitude. I like that about you.”
“Thank you, Dimples. I like you too. Tell me more about
your job. I know you’re a big animal lover. Have you always worked at rescues?”
Preston grinned at the nickname, and Ridgely loved the joy
on his beautiful face.
“No, I couldn’t get anyone to hire me when we lived as
humans. The Council has programs designed to help people like me, and that’s how I was
hired at Felidaes. I worked in a restaurant prior to that. My boss was nice, but it was
boring.”
“I’m glad you joined the Council, otherwise it might’ve
been a long time before we met.”
“I read that humans killed the leaders of the fallen
knights.”
Ridgely nodded. “They did centuries ago. I try not to be
biased against anyone, but the humans I’ve interacted while I’m working haven’t treated me
or my co-workers kindly.”
“It wasn’t horrible to live as humans, but it was a lie. I
didn’t want to make friends because I hated being dishonest about myself. Although Jordan
worked hard to ensure I had the care I needed, I had to switch doctors constantly so they
wouldn’t discover I was a hybrid. I’m happy I don’t have to deal with that any longer. I have
more opportunities, and it’s a relief to be myself. And we had to shift in our apartment, so
my beast didn’t like that.”
Their food arrived, and Ridgely eagerly dug into his
potatoes. Just as Ridgely remembered, the taste was exquisite, but not nearly as enchanting
as the man across from him.
About the Author
Jessamyn Kingley lives in
Nevada where she begs the men in her head to tell her their amazing stories which she
dutifully writes it all down in what has become a small mountain of notebooks. She falls in
love with each couple and swears whatever book she wrote last is her absolute
favorite.
Jessamyn is married and
working toward remembering to start the dishwasher without being distracted by the scent
of the magical detergent. For personal enjoyment, she aids in cat rescue while slashing and
gashing her way through mobs in various MMORPGs. Caffeine is her very best friend and is
only cast aside briefly for the sin better known as BBQ potato chips.
