When it comes to
transformation, magic only fixes what’s skin deep…
Blurb
In a world where an artist’s magic brings tattoos to life, ink
gone wrong can spell lasting heartache for those unlucky enough to experience it. Jaded and
cynical on both life and love, tattoo artist Ashton is about to find out that even the most
deeply-etched scars can be transformed into something beautiful when the right person is
holding the pen.
“Enchanted Ink” is a ground-breaking romance that
showcases how, with a bit of ink, some love, and a whole lot of trust, even the ugliest scars
can be transformed into something impossibly beautiful.
Using the art of tattooing as a metaphor for life,
“Enchanted Ink” makes it a mission to show even the most cynical and scarred of us that it’s
possible to heal, to find love, and that it’s never too late to start all over again.
Excerpt The twelfth annual “Enchanted Ink” Tattoo Convention has been in full swing for hours,
but Ashton has yet to venture inside. It’s not as if he doesn’t know what he’ll find there: a
fairly standard convention space, divided using equally standard black curtains hanging from
predictable portable frames creating both booths and stations offering displays that are
anything but ordinary. Various tattoo artists and their work, in the flesh—the best of the
best, by both fact and opinion.
In addition to the booths, there are always several centralized
showcase stands, right in the middle of all the hustle and bustle. Elevated platforms where
human works of art strip down to their underwear and pose, proudly displaying full-body
and wildly colorful tattoos boasting some of the most intricate and beautiful imagery that
probably exists in the entire inked world.
This particular convention admits artists by invitation only, and
while Ashton isn’t technically here to work this year, it’s an event he’s enjoyed immensely in
the past. It’s bittersweet—perhaps a touch heavy on the bitter—hovering on the
outskirts, wondering whether he’ll ever find himself behind a booth and promoting his work
again. While that remains to be seen, there’s plenty here to worry about in the
meantime.
The thought of Whitaker working somewhere inside the
building behind him crosses Ashton’s mind and makes him grimace. He can practically feel
the tentative nerve he’s so painstakingly gathered, the courage to finally wander
through the front door, trickling away like water through a sieve.
Again.
Good thing it’s a nice day out, today. Sixty-eight degrees and
sunny, not a cloud in the sky, and Ashton brought a book. He can wait. The courage to go
inside will come.
Probably.
Sighing, Ashton rubs the sleeve of his too-dressy collared shirt
across the backs of his eyelids. The button on the cuff pokes his eye, and it feels like a call-
out. He’s too dressed up, he looks out of place. Too covered, if nothing else. Which isn’t to
say that tattooed folks can’t be modest—naturally, that’s false and would be a terribly
judgemental view to hold. Either way, the whole point of a tattoo convention is to show off
one’s body and as much art decorating skin as possible. It’s supposed to be a positive,
empowering experience.
That’s definitely the point, and his body is aesthetically
pleasant to look at, both sculpted and toned—yet here Ashton is, buttoned up solidly from
head to toe. Acting like he cares more about looking the part of a corporate stooge rather
than flaunting the walking canvas he is. Lame. So lame.
Lame, but necessary, he reminds himself.
About the Author
Robin Lynn is a 36-year-old
queer, autistic mother of two, an unabashed fangirl sometimes known as “Wings,” and a
disabled former firefighter, paramedic, and registered nurse. She writes for queer audiences
with the goal of reflecting and centering the lgbtqia2s+ community in more media, because
everyone deserves to see relatable, imperfect main characters who mirror themselves
simply existing and getting their happy endings. Find out more and follow Robin for additional content and future
projects
Giveaway
Enter the Rafflecopter giveaway for a chance to win
one of 5 ebook copies of Fire
& Ice or one of 2 signed Enchanted Ink
paperbacks with related swag: temporary tattoos and stickers.
Blurb Pitch and Sickle have survived enraged fae queens,
murderous forest guardians, walking corpses, and ghosts turned monstrous by the
Blight. They been tortured by sorcerers and made
playthings by enemies who have sided with the Morrigan. The ankou and his daemon prince have been forced
to confront awful secrets from their pasts. Both have made terrible sacrifices to keep the
other safe. And would willingly do much more to protect the
unimaginable bond that has grown between them. In the midst of the chaos and carnage a deadman
and a daemon have found each other. Now, Prince Vassago will need his Pale Horseman
more than ever before. With the escape from the Fulbourn comes the truth
about what lies ahead. The journey will be perilous. The great hunt has begun. And all is not as it should be for a beleagered
daemon. Can Silas and the Order outwit the Morrigan, and deliver Pitch to where
Seraphiel’s secrets lie? Or will the sorcerers’ Herlequin succeed where all the rest have failed?
CHECK OUT THE OTHER BOOKS IN THE
SERIES
BOOK 1
Book Title: The
Bandalore – Pitch & Sickle Book One
Cover Artist: Deranged Doctor
Designs
Release Date: February 25,
2021
Heat Rating: 2 flames
Length: 285
pages
Genre: Historical Fantasy MM
Tropes: Slow, slow burn, opposites attract
Themes: Loneliness and friendship
It is not a standalone book.
This is the first book in the Gaslamp Fantasy series, The Diabolus
Chronicles.
It has an unresolved
storyline rather than an outright cliffhanger.
Life as a servant of
death has its challenges.But the biggest one of all
is Silas’s daemonic guardian, Pitch.
Blurb
Silas Mercer is a dead man walking.
And the mysterious Order of the Golden Dawn have big
plans for their newest ankou and his deathly bandalore.
Life as a servant of death has its challenges.
But the biggest one of all is Silas’s daemonic guardian,
Pitch.
He may look like heaven, but he’s making Silas’s life all kinds
of hell.
The daemon is arrogant, egotistical and his appetite for
violence and tea cakes is fast outgrowing the small village where they have been
recuperating since their run-in with Black Annis.
Now, the increasingly unstable Blight is causing new havoc,
and fresh monstrosities are emerging.
Pitch and Sickle are back in the saddle, and on their way to
the haunted Forest of Dean.
But can Silas rely on his guardian’s protection?
Or will Pitch prove to be the most dangerous encounter of
all?
BOOK 3
Book Title: The Skriker –
Pitch & Sickle Book Three
Length: 369
pages
Release Date: October 20,
2021
Genres: MM Fantasy, Gaslamp Fantasy, Historical Fantasy
Silas Mercer has faced
wily boggarts, mad faerie queens and enraged forest spirits. But can he withstand a daemon
who is losing his mind?
Blurb
Silas Mercer has faced wily boggarts, mad faerie queens
and enraged forest spirits.
But can he withstand a daemon who is losing his
mind?
Pitch and Sickle are left bruised, battered and reeling after
their confrontation with the Verderer.
They have learned a startling truth behind the arrowhead
that wounded Silas, a truth that must be taken to the Lady Satine and the Order without
delay.
But his encounters in the Forest of Dean have effected Pitch
in alarming ways. The daemon’s body may have healed but his erratic behaviour and wildly
unpredictable temper grow ever more concerning.
Silas owes his life to Pitch. Their experience in the forest
has brought them a closeness he could not have imagined possible.
But what can he do for a daemon who is losing his
way?
And how long will Silas survive, if he must ride
alone?
BOOK 4
Book Title: The
Greensward – Pitch & Sickle Book Four
Length: 412
pages
Release Date: April 13,
2022
Genres: MM Fantasy, Gaslamp Fantasy, Historical Fantasy
The Lady’s Horsemen
are riding out once more. Carrying death’s scythe to where tormented souls linger. But what awaits them in a world where
divine magick has returned?
Blurb
The Lady’s Horsemen are riding out once more. Carrying
death’s scythe to where tormented souls linger.
But what awaits them in a world where divine magick has
returned?
Pitch is recovered from the injuries he received in the
Forest of Dean, and Silas won’t soon forget the part he played in setting his guardian back on
his feet.
The ankou and the daemon have been reunited in a most
unexpected and intimate way, but barely have they caught their breath when a new threat
arises.
A tortured spirit is frightening both the living and the dead
along the roads of Devon.
But is this soul a monster that must be stopped, or another
pawn in the necromancer’s mysterious game?
With Azazel’s magick re-emerging after hundreds of years,
maleficium plagues the world once more. But who is wielding the forbidden arcane magick
of the angels?
Do they work alone?
And why are they so intent on harassing the Lady’s
Horsemen?
Silas has never felt stronger, or more determined to live up
to the Order’s high expectations. He’s faced the walking dead, outwitted the enchanted Hall,
and gained an ally in the skriker.
But he’s not sure he’s equipped to handle his growing
attraction to a troubled daemon.
And Silas fears that getting any closer to Pitch and his tragic
secrets may prove as dangerous as the monsters they are riding to face.
BOOK 5
Book Title: The
Fulbourn – Pitch & Sickle Book Five
Author: D K Girl
Publisher: Lucas Publishing
Length: 133Kwords/ 458
pages
Release Date: October 20,
2022
It is not a standalone story.
While it does not end on a cliffhanger, there are
some unresolved issues.
When the King of Daemonkind comes to call, be ready
for hell to follow.
Blurb
After Lucifer’s disturbing visit,
the quest to destroy the Blight takes on a desperate urgency.
Finding Lieutenant Edward
Charters is paramount.
But what role does a mortal man
play in Seraphiel’s dangerous game?
The angel has sent Pitch a
talisman from beyond the grave, a seemingly innocuous watch that may be the key to
ending the Watcher King’s dark legacy. But to learn its secret Pitch and Silas must find the
man intended to carry it.
As the search for the lieutenant
begins, the Horsemen find themselves gifted with something more precious than any angelic
token. An evening of unexpected freedom. A night that will deepen their intimacy and bring
long-stifled feelings to the fore.
But what price will they pay for
choosing breathless pleasure over rigid duty?
The Morrigan have not forgiven
the destruction at the greensward. They are prepared to do whatever it takes to rid
themselves of the Horsemen and heed the Watcher King’s ghostly call.
The Fulbourn is Pitch and Silas’s
greatest threat yet. A place that will drive them into the depths of their
most terrible fears and seek to tear them apart.
They are closer than ever before but will that fragile new bond be
enough to save them?
Or have the daemon prince and his ankou found the nemesis that will destroy them once
and for all?
Excerpt from ‘The Bandalore-Pitch & Sickle Book One’
A rather pretty gentleman, sharp featured, pale and fine,
stepped into the room with a flourish of raised hands. His tousled light brown hair was wild
about his shoulders, and his eyes so green it was as though emeralds had been pressed into
the sockets. ‘Let the amusements begin…or should I say…continue.’
His velvet coat, a red almost as bold as the woman’s lips,
was unbuttoned, revealing a black shirt with a silver brocade of Chinese dragons upon it. An
elaborate ruffling of silk tumbled from the collar and covered a good portion of his chest. His
choice of trousers was equally curious, a rather outdated fall-front style in black silk.
The baron groaned, but his smile was ever-present. ‘Good
god, man, we thought you two would never be done.’
‘Perfection takes time, does it not?’
‘Take your seat, you rascal, and stop your showmanship, at
least just for a moment.’
Silas scratched his right palm absently, attempting to stymie
the prickle. Like many things about himself he wasn’t certain of his age, his late twenties was
likely, much the same as the man who had just swept into the room.
Mr Astaroth tilted his head, pursing lips that held a near-
perfect Cupid’s bow. ‘Am I to stand aside so another showman can perform?’
‘Exactly,’ the baron declared.
As Mr Astaroth made his way to his seat with his
companion, he had a notable effect on those in attendance. The ladies all at once seemed
incapable of deciding how they should adjust their gowns upon their seats, and the men
were equally as fidgety. All of them were fixated on Mr Astaroth’s procession across the
room. The man had not spared Silas a glance yet, even when he was deriding him, and Silas
had no issue with that at all. He was not sure he’d enjoy the pierce of those green eyes upon
him. But he could not deny there was indeed something mesmerising about the lad, the
sway of his hips, the coiled tension in his body that gave the impression he might suddenly
leap unannounced in any direction.
Mr Astaroth stopped to take a glass of champagne from the
tray offered by a somewhat flustered young footman. The liquid wobbled in its crystal
confines, and the boy’s eyes darted so quickly between the floor and the man before him, it
was as though he’d lost control of his eyeballs.
‘Thank you, kind sir. What a wonderful job you do.’ Mr
Astaroth’s smile was discomfortingly suggestive, his whispered appreciation of the boy’s
offering far too intimate, and the serving boy nearly stumbled over his own feet to move
away.
Mr Astaroth was slender, not remarkable in height, and the
angles of his face were delicate to the point of being feminine, but he held a presence that
quite overwhelmed the room. Silas’s gaze moved down the length of the man’s body to his
feet. He wore heeled boots, which meant he was shorter than first impressions allowed. The
glean of polished leather distracted Silas from what became startlingly obvious a moment
later. He tensed and closed his eyes a second, as though that might change things. But alas it
was not to be.
The ground at Tobias Astaroth’s feet held no
shadow.
Whoever this man was, he was not, for all intents and
purposes, human. Silas took hold of the arms of the chair, filled with the sudden desire to
depart. No one had thought to instruct him on an encounter such as this.
‘Stop frightening the help and get your arse on a chair,’
declared the bespectacled man at Silas’s left. ‘We know how you hate to have attention
diverted from you, so do try and behave, Pitch old boy.’
Evidently the group knew the man well enough to have
endowed him with a nickname. Silas could only imagine its origins.
‘Oh Brenton,’ Victoria, Mr Astaroth’s companion, said. ‘As
far as I’m concerned, Tobias has been on his best behaviour all evening.’ She had taken her
seat and leaned her elbows upon the table, utterly at ease.
‘Thank you, my dear,’ Mr Astaroth said. ‘You are as sensible
as you are extremely talented in the art of, what were we calling it? Tarot reading.’ He tilted
his glass towards her before turning to Silas. The air quite vanished from Silas’s lungs
beneath the daggers of his emerald stare. ‘How very nice to make your acquaintance, Mr
Mercer. I do hope we are in for a wonderful show.’
About the Author
Danielle K Girl is an Aussie who lives in stunning Tasmania with
her three furkids, cats Luffy, Sweetie and Ren.
Her idea of heaven is a farm full of rescue animals, with a
vegie garden that sprouts peanut M&M’s and chocolate wheaten biscuits.
When she’s not keyboard-deep in mysterious, beguiling
worlds, she is binge watching K-Dramas, listening to K-Pop or hiking through the beautiful
Tasmanian wilderness.
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.
Lysander is a mage
more used to commanding earth, metal, and wood than people. How is he to be master of a
slave, and the slave’s desire, when Lysander hasn’t fully mastered his
own?
Blurb
Lysander is a gentle mage who wants a warrior slave to save
his family. Wyl is a betrayed prince who wants his freedom and what was taken from him.
Their hearts and desires collide amidst storm, steel, and magic in the desert. Lysander can
master the elements, but can he master his desire for Wyl? Can Wyl fight for, let alone love,
any man that dares to own him? (Revised Edtion)
Excerpt
Arms numb, Wyl sagged against his restraining
post.
His thick, dry tongue cracked his lips, searching to find a
hint of moisture hidden in any recess in his mouth. There was no relief to be found.
He leaned his head back, wincing as the coarse rope around
his neck chafed against his raw skin. He stared at the unfamiliar sky above. Home was cloudy
skies and cool, wet winds from the sea. This sky was clear blue with a relentless sun high
above. He let his head fall forward to his chest. This sky was as cruel and foreign to him as
this ancestorless city.
How long had it taken the slave ship to travel the southern
lands, let alone Tandir? What had made his father think slavery was more merciful than
death?
Why did I not foresee D’ara’s treachery? Takesh! If I had the
spit, I’d gladly waste it on the sands to dishonor the thought of her.
She had cost him everything: his freedom, his home, his
family, and even his connection to the ancestors. He would get it all back. He would not be
one of the forgotten!
About the Author
Rose lives in southern
Indiana. When she isn’t writing, she can be found gaming or out with friends. Nearby
conventions are also familiar haunts. She’s especially fond of coffee shops and cats.
However, no matter what she is up to, her muse diligently takes notes, seeks inspiration, and
weaves together plots and ideas.
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
“You still play and sing?” Grymington asked.
“Every day. Music is me, and I love composing words,
writing melodies, and crafting beautiful songs. But trust me…I don’t deserve to be standing
on a stage to cheers while I belt out a tune. My decision to leave my career wasn’t fair, and I
hurt people, including someone I loved. It ruined everything she worked for, and I still lack
the courage to do anything about it. That’s probably not the best thing to tell the person
you’re hoping to build a matebond with, but I’ve learned the value of honesty, and I won’t lie
to you about the kind of person I was or am.”
“I wasn’t resurrected yet in 1998 when you left, but I’m
going to download your music after I get home.”
“You’ll have to let me know what you think.”
“I will. I guess you don’t miss it,” Grymington said. His dog
ventured over to lie across his sneakered feet.
“Who wouldn’t miss having fans? I enjoyed that part, but
I’m good without having any of the rest of it in my life.”
“If you’re not a rock star, what are you going to do now that
you don’t have to hide?” Grymington asked.
Devlin shrugged. “I haven’t figured that out yet. I haven’t
been a D’Vaire that long, and now I have a matebond to focus on. I’m in no rush to decide
anything. Taking things a day at a time is far less intimidating than trying to structure my
entire life.”
“I do that too,” Grymington confided softly. “It is definitely
easier if I focus on a single day at a time.”
“I hope it’s one of many things we find we have in
common.”
They fell silent again, and Devlin studied the sexy man
sitting several feet away. There was something about Grymington’s pert nose and his perfect
heart-shaped mouth that brought out a visceral reaction from Devlin. Cute men had always
been his downfall, and Grymington had no match. The desire to taste Grymington was so
intense, Devlin went with instinct, though he acknowledged he was probably being led by
his dick.
“I’d love to kiss you,” Devlin murmured.
Grymington’s pale citrine-colored gaze widened for a
second, then a rush of euphoria rushed through Devlin as the reaper scooted closer to him.
“I haven’t been kissed before,” Grymington offered
apologetically.
The grin Devlin gave him was wolfish. “I know.”
Because he had to touch those messy curls, Devlin lifted a
hand and tangled his fingers in the soft blond twists. Grymington titled his head so their eyes
met fully, and Devlin swore the faint smell of lilies bewitched him.
Since he was worried that the spell could break at any
moment, Devlin leaned forward and pressed his lips to Grymington’s. The reaper lacked
experience, but Grymington had initiative. Grymington’s mouth parted, and Devlin wasn’t
foolish enough to ignore the invitation. Their tongues touched, and Devlin nearly
moaned.
His scent was elusive, but Grymington’s taste was
intoxicating. The way Grymington copied each thing Devlin did was a lovely reminder of his
innocence. It brought out a tender side of Devlin he hadn’t known existed as he carefully
explored Grymington. Devlin rested his free hand on Grymington’s waist and stifled the urge
to crush the reaper in his arms.
Ever so gently, Devlin coaxed Grymington into tipping his
head slightly, and it took their kiss to an entirely new level. With nothing but the simplest of
touches, Devlin grew hard, yet he was in no rush to devour Grymington. It would be an insult
not to savor him, and Devlin refused to squander such an opportunity.
Instead, Devlin used his many years of practice to please
Grymington. Devlin teased, tormented, and nibbled Grymington’s lips. When he finally lifted
his head, Devlin was outrageously pleased by the desire swimming in Grymington’s
gaze.
“You’re a beautiful kisser, Grym,” Devlin murmured.
“Thank you, so are you,” Grymington replied. “I’d like to kiss
you again.”
Since only a fool would tell Grymington no, Devlin smiled at
him and dove in for another taste.
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.
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
“That’s okay,” Ridgely said. “We’ll work around your
schedule. There are seven days in a week. We’ll work our dates into the nights you’re
free.”
“Yeah.”
The lack of enthusiasm in Preston’s voice had a chill running
through Ridgely. Although they hadn’t known each other long, they talked frequently, and
the man enchanted Ridgely. Until that moment, Ridgely had believed they were on the same
page, but perhaps he’d misjudged the situation. It was difficult to discuss it without being
able to see the emotions cross Preston’s face, and Ridgely wished he were with him.
However, there was no way Ridgely could wait until their date the following night to get the
answers he needed.
“Tell me what’s on your mind,” Ridgely prompted and
internally winced at the sharpness in his voice.
“I have challenges.”
“I know,” Ridgely responded softly. “That’s not a problem
for me.”
“Okay. I didn’t want to bombard you with them at the start
though.”
“Don’t worry so much. Talk to me.”
“I tire easily sometimes, and I also have insomnia. I’m
concerned that if I’m out most nights, I’ll get exhausted because I still have work and do my
therapies. I don’t want my schedule to overwhelm me, and it makes me sad because I want
to be with you. Maybe I should wait to do the school stuff.”
“Absolutely not, Dimples. There’s no reason we can’t
approach things casually. If we hung out and relaxed instead of dressing up for fancy
restaurants, would that make things easier for you? Because honestly, that sounds like more
fun anyway.”
“Maybe you could come to my house and have dinner with
my family.”
“And meet some cuddly kittens?”
“Yes. You could watch a movie with me in my room or take
a nap with me if you wanted. You wouldn’t even have to wear your clothes.”
Ridgely’s laughter was full-throated. “I’m going to need you
to repeat that when I can see your face.”
“I’m probably blushing, but I’ve already spent plenty of
time wondering what you look like naked.”
“I’ve used my imagination a lot lately too. Invite me to your
house for dinner.”
“Tomorrow, instead of you picking a restaurant?”
“All I need is an address.”
Snagging a pen from his desk drawer, Ridgely jotted down
the information he needed, then promised to call Preston later. After hanging up,
nervousness crept in. Although Ridgely loved the idea of a more relaxed avenue to get to
know Preston better, meeting a couple of Council leaders was intimidating.
“Okay, so I was curious before, but now I’m dying to meet
Preston,” Warner said.
Ridgely nearly jumped at the sound of Warner’s voice. So
swept up in talking to Preston, Ridgely had forgotten he wasn’t alone, which was nuts since
he’d shared an office with Warner for nearly two decades.
“What?”
“Your voice and body language completely changed when
you spoke with your mate. I’ve never seen that side of you. You were practically
gushing.”
“Clearly, I was not, but I won’t pretend I don’t like him
either.”
“I feel so good about this now. I was nervous you’d over-
analyze every aspect of your relationship and drive your man crazy.”
“Glad to hear it because, clearly, your opinion of the
situation is what matters most,” Ridgely deadpanned.
“Seriously, I must meet this beautiful dimpled
man.”
“Find some patience, Warner. Or better yet, find your other
half.”
“I wish,” Warner replied, and Ridgely did too.
Ridgely wanted everyone to have Fate pair them with
someone as wonderful as Preston was turning out to be. And the fact that Preston was
pursuing a dream pleased Ridgely. It wasn’t enough for Preston to have only pieces of what
he wanted; Ridgely intended to ensure that his mate had everything.
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.
