A hillbilly and a former Marine walk into a bar sounds like the opening line of a joke. But it's no laughing matter for Tyler Warboys when werewolf alphas Rocky and Blaze Blackstone enter the Byte Bar, the computer repair store where he works.
Tyler is instantly attracted to the huge, powerful, but allegedly dangerous creatures. And, miracle of miracles, they feel a connection to him, too. But how can that be? Tyler is human and Rocky and Blaze are not. However, the alphas can smell a faint something on Tyler that has them wondering if he isn't as human as he's always thought. But as Tyler has never shifted, how can he be a werewolf?
So many questions, but between the three of them, they are bound to find some answers. Surely three isn't always a crowd, especially where love is concerned?
About the Author
Having read all the decent free fiction on the net Drew could find, he set out to try his hand at writing something himself. Fed up of reading about characters who were super-wealthy, impossibly handsome and incredibly well-endowed, Drew determined to make his characters a bit more real and believable.
Drew lives a quiet life in the north of England and someday hopes to meet the kind of man he writes about.
Mhavenna is a glorious city but, like every city on the face of Serai, it's run by Dragons. As a human, I'm on the lowest rung of the racial ladder here, as far from an illustrious Dragon as I could be, and I've made my peace with that. I don't like Dragons much, but like or dislike has nothing to do with my work. So when my broker offered me the task of killing the Dragon King, I took it. It was the sort of kill that could make an assassin's career, and I was certain that I had the skills for it.
I was wrong, nearly dead wrong.
The King caught me before I could finish the job, but instead of killing me, he made me his. I'm now the Dragon King's assassin. A warning and a weapon. A way for him to bypass his own laws without personally breaking them. But that's not all. He's tasked me with guarding him against future attacks. Who better to stop an assassin than another assassin? And who better to find the one who hired us? If only the King didn't have a body that made me salivate, a face that made my knees weak, and a pair of teal eyes that made me whimper. If only he didn't stare at me with those stunning eyes as if I could be more than property to him. Maybe then I could do my job, find the person who wants him dead, and save my own life. But I don't believe in miracles.
Excerpt
Once I reached the terrace, I freed my wrists and crawled over the railing to land on the soles of my soft leather boots, quiet as a cat. Despite the windows to either side of the balcony remaining dark, I dropped to my belly and slithered to the solid doors. Pressing my ear to the crack between the double doors, I heard the soft sounds of even breathing and smiled. I carefully rose into a crouch and pulled the lock-picking tools out of my vest.
A few seconds later, I was opening one of the balcony doors and slipping around it. I shut it just as quickly and quietly, blocking out the moonlight to give me more shadows to hide in, then stood pressed against the wall while my eyes adjusted. I was only a human, after all. I didn't have the night vision of the other races of Racul.
When the bed came into focus, the dark mound of the sleeping king atop it, I removed my weapon. As it was with all my tools, the metal of the slim tube was blackened without gloss. It was a simple device, one that many assassins preferred for its precision, speed, and silent execution. Execution being the keyword. The problem was, it was a weapon that required proximity to your target. The barrel had to be pressed against the victim's head—anywhere on the head, but I tried to go for the base, somewhere under the chin or at the top of the spine in back—and then the pointed rod within the tube could be released. Death was instantaneous, even for an immortal Dragon. Immortal, they may be, but not invulnerable.
Did I care that killing King Tarocvar Verres would throw the entire Kingdom of Racul into chaos? That although there was some satisfaction in taking the life of one of those elitist assholes—the head elitist asshole—another Dragon would inevitably take his place. Did it bother me that this man had done some good for the kingdom and his replacement might fuck things up?
Nah. I'm an asshole too.
I crept up to the enormous bed, heading for the side he was closest to—the left. My left. The King slept on his side, curled up like a baby. Not that his position made him any less intimidating. Even asleep, the Dragon King exuded power that sent shivers down my spine. I'd studied him long enough to know his body nearly as intimately as a lover, had spent many nights watching him bathe, dress, and fuck.
I could bring an image of the King's body to mind in a second—a very detailed image of bulging muscles and golden-brown skin. Of long hair as black as midnight that gleamed crimson in the light, glittering teal eyes so bright that they seemed to glow, and a jaw that could crush rocks. But I'd never been this close to him. So close that I could smell the spice of his skin and see the cleft in his chin—a little dent, as if he had indeed tried to crush rocks with it. Damn, he was handsome. Fucking breathtaking. What a shame.
Just as I leaned forward to set the weapon beneath the royal cleft chin, those stunning eyes shot open and focused on me. The King knocked away my weapon before locking his strong hand around my throat.
A deep rumble vibrated through the air between us. “Hello, little mouse. Have you come to play?”
About the Author
Amy Sumida is the Internationally Acclaimed author of the Award-Winning Godhunter Series, the fantasy paranormal Twilight Court Series, the Beyond the Godhunter Series, the music-oriented paranormal Spellsinger Series, the superhero Spectra Series, the Gay Fantasy Romance Soul Stone Series, the Gay Paranormal Romance Tales of the Beneath Series, the Gay Fantasy Romance Dragons of Serai Series, the Gay Why Choose Romance Wraith Lords Series, and several short stories. Her books have been translated into several languages, have won numerous awards, and are bestsellers. She believes in empowering people through her writing as well as providing everyone with a great escape from reality. Her stories are full of strong main characters paired with hot gods, shapeshifters, vampires, dragons, fairies, gargoyles... pretty much any type of supernatural, breathtakingly gorgeous man you can think of. Because why have normal when you could have paranormal?
Born and raised in Hawaii, Amy made a perilous journey across the ocean with six cats to settle in the beautiful state of Oregon which reminds her a lot of Hawaii but without the cockroaches or evil sand. When she isn't trying to type fast enough to keep up with the voices in her head while ignoring the kitties trying to sabotage her with cuteness, she enjoys painting on canvases, walls, and anything else that will sit still long enough for the paint to dry. She's fueled by tea, inspired by music, and spends most of her time lost in imaginary worlds.
Want a free book? Sign up for Amy's Newsletter and get a free ebook as well as the latest news on Amy's releases, parties, and giveaways
Two men from opposite worlds will discover if fate has all the answers.
Blurb
Venerable Knight Roman Calixtus was once renowned for his conquests. But the fallen knight put those days behind him. A dream grew inside him thanks to his closest friends finding their mates, and now Roman impatiently waits for the other half of his soul. But nothing prepares him for the day he discovers he is paired with a human.
Fallen knights do not get along with humans. None of them have human mates. It shocks Roman, and even the goddesses themselves are surprised by the match. Roman wants to find love. Instead, he is confronted with a belligerent human who believes Roman is a zombie.
Grant’s life is a mess. His boyfriend is controlling. His job is crap, and so is Grant’s outlook. The last thing he needs is a fallen knight in his face, trying to convince him they are meant to be together. Grant no longer trusts tender emotions, nor does he want to speak to anyone who is undead.
The connection Roman wanted is fraught with issues. So is the future, and neither man is prepared for what comes next. In order to get the matebond of Roman’s dreams, he needs the help of a powerful sorcerer and the diligent work of the goddesses watching over their charges.
In the end, Grant and Roman discover that, despite everything, they are a perfect match.
Excerpt
“Did you look at a clock?” an amused male voice asked.
Grant’s brows drew together. “No, but I guess it’s like seven.”
“Yeah, it’s the first time I haven’t had to wake up to take one of your calls. I’m glad to hear from you. How’s your reading going?”
Unfortunately, Grant had had little opportunity to explore the world of the Council. Reginald was growing more impatient with each day, and Grant had to devote his energy to expediting his future plans. “I’ve got some shit going on, but I read that stuff about your Reverent Knights.”
“Did you Google it?” Roman asked. “I don’t want you to blindly take my word for anything.”
In that way, Roman had Grant’s full respect. Reginald told him what to do and what to believe. If Grant tried to think on his own, it pissed Reginald off, and he accused Grant of lacking trust in him. Grant wasn’t allowed to have any beliefs that deviated from Reginald’s either.
“Yeah, I didn’t find too much,” Grant confided. “You’re not going to like this, but some humans are, like, proud and shit that they killed those Emperors. They don’t really believe your Reverent Knights are the same guys though.”
“Honestly, I don’t give a shit what humans believe,” Roman said. He cleared his throat loudly. “Present company excluded, of course.”
“It’s okay, you can offend me. You have no reason to be nice to me. I haven’t been nice to you.”
Finding out that a fallen knight believed they were mates was still fucking up Grant’s headspace, but he was trying to be reasonable. Roman probably wasn’t a zombie. That didn’t mean zombies didn’t exist, but maybe fallen knights didn’t fall into that category.
Grant’s thoughts were fuzzy most of the time, but he hadn’t had any beer since that morning. Even with a clear mind, Grant didn’t know what to make of the situation. The timing sucked.
“You’re doing your best to learn about me and my world, which I appreciate. All your life, you’ve been taught to avoid people like me. I’m not going to slap a deadline on your feelings. You deserve whatever space you need to adjust to this new reality Fate has thrown us both in. To be honest, I’m adapting too. I’m the first fallen knight to be paired with a human.”
“I guess because humans killed your bosses, you might be pissed.”
“Exactly. Humans also don’t make my job easy. But I refuse to hold that against you.”
“I was a cop. A few years ago, I was doing everything I was told, including fucking up crime scenes for fallen knights.”
Roman sighed. “At least we have law enforcement in common.”
“Yeah, look. I called because I’m going through some shit,” Grant said. “I’ve decided to move. Break up with Reginald. Shit like that. I gotta disappear, so you may not hear from me for a while. I gotta find a place to live and all that. And since we’re being honest, I still need to think about this mate business. You gave me all this stuff, and I haven’t had a chance to read everything yet.”
“I appreciate you letting me know. Good luck with your move. If you need help with anything, I hope you’ll at least consider me a friend you can count on. I’ll unpack a box or slap some paint on the wall with you.”
A strange picture flashed in Grant’s mind of him standing in a living room decorated in blue, green, and silver. Roman was there at his side, and they were laughing.
“Yeah, thanks, man.”
“I won’t call you. Take as long as you need, and I’ll be here.”
“Why are you so nice to me?”
“Look, this situation is complicated, but I’m unwilling to take out my conflicting emotions on you. On my mate. I can’t predict the future, but I’ve waited a long time to find the other half of my soul. That’s you. Only Fate knows if our bond is a good one. Someday I’d like us to discover that truth for ourselves. In recent years, I’ve learned from my family that Fate doesn’t always get the timing right. I respect that your life didn’t begin the day we met. All I can do is offer my friendship and hope you take me up on that someday.”
Grant was inexplicably moved to tears. Why the hell he was suddenly emotional was baffling, and he blamed it on the rush job he’d had to put on his plans. But he had to admit, having a friend like Roman didn’t sound like a bad thing. Maybe he could do that. Be his friend. But it had to wait until Grant faced Reginald and rebuilt everything.
“Let me get settled. Give me a few months or whatever. Then maybe I’ll call you and we can work on this friends thing.”
“Sounds good, but seriously, if you need anything in the meantime, you can call me, and I’ll try to help.”
“Thanks,” Grant replied, touched by the offer, which did nothing to smooth out his suddenly turbulent emotions.
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 lonely train station agent waits for true love to arrive.
Updated Blurb
Train station agent Ethan Tremblay believed he'd never find the perfect man to love. Elementary school teacher Leo Grabowski believed no one would love him if they found out who he really was. When they met at the isolated Twin Firs train depot in an idyllic mountain resort in the Pacific Northwest everything conspired to keep them apart, especially their own insecurities, until they finally learned how to become themselves.
Excerpt
The afternoon lunch crowd at Amélie's diner kept her busy tending to her customers at the gay resort but she made time to talk to her son and his new 'friend.'
“Here's your trout, Leo,” Amélie said as she replaced his uneaten salad. “And here's your lasagna. Do you ever comb your hair?”
Ethan glared at his mother. “I don't want lasagna.”
“Well that's what I brought you.”
“You're not helping me lose weight.”
“Absurde,” she demurred and turned to Leo. “There's nothing wrong with a little meat on the bones. What do you think, Leo?”
“I prefer a guy I can grab a hold of,” he said and cast a devilish glance at Ethan's mother.
“I do too. Ethan's father was very handsome but lean. Part Mohawk. Ohhh, my parents were not pleased when they met him. They were 'Good Catholics' and when they found out I was pregnant they were beside themselves. Calice! It was bad enough I was dating a patient I met during med school residency, la la. But an Indian - that's what they called him...”
“You don't need to tell him your life story, Maman,” Ethan interjected.
“Why not? Leo told me about his mother. Nothing wrong with friendly conversation.”
“I don't want to pry.” Leo attempted to dispel Ethan's discomfort.
“You're not,” Amélie assured him. “I simply want you to know I raised Ethan well despite being a single mother. I also taught him how to use a comb, though lately he seems to have forgotten.”
Leo looked down at his plate, embarrassed for Ethan.
“You also changed my diapers. Want to tell Leo about that?”
Amélie feigned shock. “Let's not go too far.”
“Too late...” slipped out of Leo's mouth before he could stop.
Ethan burst out laughing. He slapped the table and spilled his iced tea. Leo laughed with him.
Amélie chided them, “All right, all right, make fun of me.”
Ethan sobered up and asked, “How're you doing, Maman?”
“Oh, the same old. The young ones complain about the older ones moving too slow. The older ones complain about the young ones slipping away during shift to give blow jobs. I bet they wouldn't bitch if they were on the receiving end. I started rubbing lidocaine on my wrist. It helps. Nothing to complain about.”
“Mama Amélie! Mama Amélie,” a customer shouted from the other side of the diner.
“Oh, I'm needed.” She looked over the tables to see who was calling, then turned to Leo.
“Take good care of him. He's the only son I've got."
She kissed Ethan on both cheeks and limped across the room gleefully shouting, "I'm coming boys!”
Ethan watched her leave, then focused on Leo. “You came looking for me?”
“Yeah,” Leo hesitated, “I wanted to apologize for being so abrupt last night.”
“No, I was totally saying the wrong things. My brain thinks things and they don't come out right.”
“You were right,” Leo said. “I don't know when we'll see each other again.”
“If you keep missing trains I don't know when I'll get rid of you.”
Leo was taken aback. “Oh.”
“I didn't mean it like that,” Ethan blurted out quickly. “I don't want to get rid of you.”
Amélie returned with fresh iced tea for Ethan. “I'm back. They saw your trout and wanted to know why it's not on the menu.”
“Why isn't it?” Leo asked.
“This is a cannibal themed restaurant, la la. Alferd Packer. Donner Trail...'Have Family for Lunch'...”
“That's in California,” Leo interrupted.
Ethan quietly reminded Leo, “Everything at this resort is fake.”
“Creative license, sa coche. Anyway, eating fish has a whole different connotation with gay men.”
“Riiiight...” Leo slowly nodded.
“And I've never told you,” she turned to Ethan, “but I've always wondered where you got the gay. Because your father definitely wasn't. He loved eating fish.”
Leo spit lemonade across the table.
“WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?!” Ethan shrieked.
Amélie continued dreamily, “He used to whisper to me in Iroquois when we were making love.”
“DON'T TELL ME THIS!”
“I often regret never teaching you his language.”
“I don't want to know! I DON'T WANT TO KNOW!” Ethan pushed his chair away from the table. “Don't tell me about your sex life!”
“You told me about yours this morning.”
“NO I DIDN'T. That was autocorrect!”
“I'm simply comparing you to your father. You get the shyness from him.”
“Please stop,” Ethan countered. “You're embarrassing me in front of someone I barely know.”
“The fact that you barely know him isn't my fault,” she declared. “I'll leave you alone so you can remedy that.”
Amélie trudged away and returned to work.
About the Author
Paul Bright wrote/produced/directed twelve feature films that are internationally distributed including Pocket Mouse Protector, Angora Ranch and Altitude Falling.
When he was the Artistic Director of the Gaslight Theater in Austin TX, Paul produced 32 stage plays and directed many of them including Loot, The Master and Margarita, Rhinoceros, Death and the Maiden, and Lazarus Laughed.
He lives in the Columbia River Gorge of the Pacific Northwest in a tiny house with two cats.
Allowing a strange dragon into my home was not my idea.
The Assembly assured me it was necessary, though. And that’s how I ended up with him.
Ollie Shaw is clumsy. Unfairly hot. He stumbles through my life leaving a trail of chaos and sunny charm in his wake.
And I hoard every moment with him like he’s my greatest treasure.
But with an entire dragon territory to rule, bills to pay, and treachery brewing in my family, I can’t afford to be distracted by Ollie’s copper-gilded beauty and boundless enthusiasm.
I especially can’t give in to my dragon’s primal urge to claim him.
Because loving him could cost me everything I’ve fought so hard to protect. And that would eventually come back to bite us both—with dragon’s teeth…
Dragon’s Folly, Book 3 in the Wings over Albion series, is a sweet and spicy, grumpy/sunshine, forced proximity paranormal m/m romance.
Excerpt
“How much longer do you think they’ll—oh my God.” I interrupted myself. “Who is that?”
Mia stood on tiptoe and followed my awestruck gaze. “Who?” she asked. “The redheaded guy with the beard?”
I revised my impression of her intelligence. “The tall one with the shoulders. Black shirt and black jeans.” Along with dark hair, and did I mention shoulders? He was moving decisively through the throng, bootheels striking the floor in a way that might indicate temper or might simply be supreme self-confidence. He knew other dragons would move out of his way.
Lean-cheeked and dark-browed, his face was set in stern lines that made my knees weak. This was a dragon who knew what he wanted and took it. I hoped that would include me.
He was heading in our direction, closing on us fast. I’d opened my mouth and started to say God knew what but something to make him notice me, when Mia spoke over the top of my incoherent babble.
“Archer,” she said. “This is Ollie Shaw.”
Oh great, her brother had arrived. What bloody awful timing. Wait a minute—the only person next to us was Mr Sex God himself. He smiled slightly at her, before glancing at me. I’d thought the first Mortimer grandson I’d seen would level Troy. This guy would have the Martians invading to fight over his square jaw and piercing grey eyes.
“Hi,” I said, and hoped my voice hadn’t come out sounding as squeaky as I feared.
He nodded at me, not unfriendly but not friendly. And that was the final nail in my coffin because dark, powerful and emotionally unavailable? It was as if he’d read my teenage diary and was role-playing every one of my fantasies. Almost every one—he hadn’t yet shoved me up against the wall and fucked me. I flicked my tongue over suddenly dry lips and wondered if he could see how ready I was to do anything he told me.
“Good to meet you,” I said belatedly, ducking my head in an attempt at a respectful salute to the head of a family. It didn’t work too well because I couldn’t tear my eyes from his face. From the dark eyebrows that were drawing together as I continued staring at him. “I’m from Tunbridge Wells.” I scarcely knew what I was saying, just that I didn’t want him to leave. “Mia’s been keeping me company.”
His eyes narrowed on me, and how the hell did that make him even sexier? “Has she?” His voice was deep, with a dangerous note that thrilled right to my cock.
“Yes.” That was definitely a squeak, damn it. “She’s very nice.” Oh my God, would someone take me outside and shoot me?
His expression remained stern. “I’m aware of that.” He glanced at her, seeming to forget my existence. “Let’s go, Mia.”
She gave me a grin that let me know she was fully aware of her brother’s effect on me. “Catch you later, Ollie,” she said, and they left.
About the Author
Joy Lynn Fielding lives in a small English market town, where she indulges her passions for vintage aircraft, horse riding and gardening (though not all at the same time).
She tends to talk a lot about the fascinating facts she discovers during her research for books. Thankfully, she has a very patient Labrador who has a gift for looking interested in what she’s saying while he waits for the food to arrive.
Cliff Anderson hopes to build on the legacy of his late parents, but that dream seems lost when his California homestead is lost to a wildfire. Devastated, he travels to Oregon to stay with his aunt and uncle on their dairy operation while he makes plans for his future.
College professor Brandon Forest has always yearned for a family and a home of his own. Maybe that’s why, despite being busy with his job and his side gig as a fantasy author, he’s stayed on as a seasonal worker at the dairy farm. The farm feels so welcoming, and working on their dairy farm might be the next step in building the life he’s dreamed of.
Then he meets Cliff.
As Cliff and Brandon confront their own broken pasts, they build a connection that runs deep. Laughter and shared experiences prove to be strong medicine for the wounds life has inflicted on them.
Cliff hasn’t let go of his past or the hopes he had for the farm in California. Will his future burn down as he holds on to lost hopes, or can he blaze a new path with Brandon?
Excerpt
I took a seat in the dining room as Sue yelled up the stairs, “Cliff, we’re sitting down to supper. Come on down.”
I looked at Levi with my eyebrow raised in question. “My cousin,” he said quietly. “His farm was swept up in the California wildfires. Only just arrived in the wee hours.”
I cringed. I’d been watching the news about the horrendous wildfire currently scorching through California. It seemed fires were eating up the forested parts of California and Oregon more and more every year. “That’s awful,” I whispered. “He must be devastated.”
Levi nodded, and a somber mood fell over the table. As talk shifted to fences that still needed repair, I popped into the kitchen to help Sue. I was bringing out a bowl of mashed potatoes when I came around the corner and looked right into the eyes of one of the most handsome men I’d ever seen.
When his eyes locked on mine, I stumbled. In one swift move, he caught me, put me right, and then took the bowl from my hands and placed it on the table.
I was still feeling flustered when he shook my hand and introduced himself as Cliff Anderson—chiseled jawline, lean build, and kind-but-sad eyes.
“I’m Brandon Forest, a friend of Levi’s. Nice to meet you.”
Despite his weary expression, his genuine smile caused my heart to flutter.
Sue brushed past us carrying a platter of pork chops and took her customary seat opposite Chris at the end of the table. Only then did I notice Levi had switched seats. Instead of sitting across from Keya, like usual, he was seated next to her. That left two empty chairs side by side, which meant I’d be sitting beside the handsome stranger all through supper.
A whiff of smoke wafted off him, which must’ve permeated his clothes, and it reminded me of all he’d just gone through. My heart went out to the poor guy. I couldn’t imagine what he was feeling.
About the Author
Greyson McCoy loves to travel. After years of being tied down to a life of kids, work, running a small farm, and all things domestic, he and his husband have taken full advantage of their empty nest to travel the world.
The joy of writing came to Greyson late in life. While completing his master’s degree, he found himself fighting between desperately wanting to write fiction and finishing the homework and papers he’d been assigned.
After his master’s was finished, Greyson decided to shirk his life of responsibility and pursue his dream of writing full time. His stories reflect many of the locations he and his husband have visited over the years.
Two men from opposite worlds will discover if fate has all the answers.
Blurb
Venerable Knight Roman Calixtus was once renowned for his conquests. But the fallen knight put those days behind him. A dream grew inside him thanks to his closest friends finding their mates, and now Roman impatiently waits for the other half of his soul. But nothing prepares him for the day he discovers he is paired with a human.
Fallen knights do not get along with humans. None of them have human mates. It shocks Roman, and even the goddesses themselves are surprised by the match. Roman wants to find love. Instead, he is confronted with a belligerent human who believes Roman is a zombie.
Grant’s life is a mess. His boyfriend is controlling. His job is crap, and so is Grant’s outlook. The last thing he needs is a fallen knight in his face, trying to convince him they are meant to be together. Grant no longer trusts tender emotions, nor does he want to speak to anyone who is undead.
The connection Roman wanted is fraught with issues. So is the future, and neither man is prepared for what comes next. In order to get the matebond of Roman’s dreams, he needs the help of a powerful sorcerer and the diligent work of the goddesses watching over their charges.
In the end, Grant and Roman discover that, despite everything, they are a perfect match.
Excerpt
“Hello?”
Grant slunk off to the kitchen to grab another beer. “Hey.”
“Do you ever sleep?”
“Sure. I’m like your vampire friends, I guess. I like to stay up all night and hide from the sun during the day.”
“Grant, most vampires keep the same day hours I do. While they are sensitive to the sun, they can drink more blood to recover from exposure.”
“Oh.”
“I thought you were reading the stuff I left for you. There was no mention of vampires avoiding the sunlight.”
Grant pulled a can from his fridge, which he pocketed, then yanked out a second one. Once he was loaded up on beverages, Grant lumbered to the couch and dropped onto it. “I like to imagine them switching to bats and sleeping in coffins.”
“And I’m just some brain-eating zombie, right?”
Uncomfortable with the ire in Roman’s voice, Grant gulped half his beer as color rose to his cheeks.
“I didn’t think you ate brains,” Grant mumbled.
“I don’t lump every human into the asshole category, although I haven’t had many positive encounters with them.”
“You don’t like humans?” Grant asked, surprised. He didn’t know what it said about him that it’d never occurred to him that Roman might be uncomfortable with his race too.
“How much about fallen knights have you learned?”
“I skimmed or skipped the historical stuff, but I learned you’re incorruptible. My focus was more on the mates thing because I didn’t really know shit about it. The vomiting isn’t going away, is it?”
“No, I’m afraid that’s a permanent affliction. How’s the boyfriend taking it?”
“Reg is pissed,” Grant confided. “I needed some space to think, so I told him I had a stomach bug. He hates being sick, so he’s been avoiding me. I’ve got some plans, but yeah, I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Okay, that’s fair. Let’s go back to the human stuff. Did you read anything about my bosses? The Reverent Knights?”
Grant’s brow creased as he tried to recall anything about Roman’s bosses, but his mind was blank. “If I did, I forgot.”
“I don’t expect you to memorize stuff,” Roman replied with a chuckle. “Here’s the deal. Unlike me, they remember their lives before they were resurrected. They were dragon shifters. Fate had granted them the highest title among dragons, and they ruled as Emperors for fifty years. Then the man in charge of ensuring they were protected allowed hundreds of humans into their castle. Those humans murdered the now Reverent Knights. My race only exists because humans killed the dragon shifters the Council wanted to create an alliance with to defend them.”
If Grant had read that, he would’ve recalled the gruesome tale. “Wow.”
“Yeah, that happened in 1369, and humans are unlikely to care about the trajectory of the Council or the story of the fallen knights, so I’m not surprised you didn’t know about my bosses.”
“Is it verifiable though? To anyone human?”
“I don’t know,” Roman said. “Our sources of information are vastly different. All I can suggest is that you Google it.”
“You have Google?”
“Yep.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
Another one of those sexy chuckles rumbled through Grant’s ear. “Of course.”
“Why do you have a car if you can teleport?”
“Because our laws state we must teleport to designated Dérive stations or to private residences of friends and family. It prevents us from popping into someone on the street and scaring the shit out of them. So, we typically drive from the closest Dérive station to our destination.”
“Yeah, I could see how frightening it would be if people were constantly teleporting everywhere.”
“Exactly, our Council does their best to improve the lives of our people in every way they can.”
“I’d disappear if I could,” Grant whispered.
The confession came out of nowhere, but Grant couldn’t take back the words. They were the truth, but the last thing he should be doing was alerting anyone to the fact that he was leaving his life behind. But he’d previously mentioned it to Roman, so it wasn’t as if the fallen knight was hearing anything new.
Grant hated the fear building inside him, but staying was perhaps more terrifying. Reginald wouldn’t take the news well that Grant was the mate of a fallen knight.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Roman asked kindly.
“No. No, I can’t. I should go.”
“I’m glad you called.”
“Bye,” Grant said and quickly disconnected.
What the hell had he been thinking to call Roman again? Grant’s world was literally crumbling around his ears, and he needed to be packing instead of giving in to his curiosity about Roman. He probably only had a couple of days left before his boyfriend would be pounding on his door again. Laying his head on the cushion behind him and staring at the ceiling, Grant knew he should go to bed so he could get an early start on packing the next day.
Instead, he popped open the second can of beer and dug the Council book he was reading out from under his couch to read about Roman’s bosses.
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.
It's only supposed to be one night. Until it isn't.
Blurb
When the Queen's guardsman enters my inn, the last thing I expect is to be propositioned. But this far north, it can get lonely at times, and my bed fits two easily enough. The guardsman is lithe and fae, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested. Besides, what's one night between grown men?
I don't expect to see him again. But rumors of war bring him back to me, and what starts as a one-off soon blossoms into so much more ...
About the Author
J.M. Snyder is a multi-published author of gay erotic romance who started writing fanfic (specifically, boyband slash). She has worked with several different e-publishers, including Amber Allure Press and Torquere Press, and had short stories published in anthologies by Alyson Books, Cleis Press, eXcessica, and Lethe Press.
In 2010, she started JMS Books LLC to promote and publish her own work as well as that of other authors she enjoys.
I’m not ready to lose it all for a beautiful dark temptation
Blurb
Tomás
I’ve lost everything.
Forced into a prison masking as a school, I find myself in the crosshairs of more than one killer. My savior? The arrogant prick who wants to control me. Kieran is a nightmare wrapped in a seductive package and when he sets his sights on me I don’t know whether to fight him or kiss him.
Kieran
I am the eldest bastard of one of the four founders of Arcadia University, and I will do anything to see my family fall.
The secrets I’ve kept hidden behind my heart now threaten to bury me alive with the arrival of Tomás. He consumes my space, my thoughts, my nightmares. I hate him for how he makes me feel. This toxic attraction between us forces me to question what matters most—vengeance, power, love. But Tomas doesn’t fit into my world of lies and violence and I’m not ready to lose it all for a beautiful dark temptation.
Excerpt
Kieran
The front door opened and closed as I put my dish away. Getting under Tomás’s skin made me feel alive. I couldn’t kill him yet, but I could fuck with him.
He straightened when he caught sight of me. A hint of pain crossed his features, but he quickly schooled it before he grabbed a glass of water. Without paying me any attention, he downed the water. I couldn’t help but take in his profile. The soft line of his jaw, the smooth suntanned skin, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. I had the urge to cup his throat, feel his pulse. He lowered the cup and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Why my dick chose that moment to twitch made no sense. I wasn’t attracted to him. No way. My erection in the field had to do with the adrenaline rush, not him.
He rinsed the cup and put it away. “What?” he finally said. “You want to finish what we started?”
The image of him stretched out on top of me was what came to mind. My dick against his thigh. And the fucker had grinded against me. I’d felt his erection too before he jumped off me as if his ass were on fire. Then he ran.
If I expected Fox to let go of Dasher, then I had to stop reacting to this prick like I wanted to shove him out a window. I still didn’t know Tomás’s true bloodline. Murdering him would cause attention and right now, that would be more dangerous than letting him live.
“I think we got off to a rocky start,” I said.
He snorted. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
Cocky fucker almost made me smile. “You’re a part of the four whether we like it or not. Means that we might be family.” Bile rose in the back of my throat. I already knew we weren’t blood related, but he had to belong to one of the four.
That made him snap his mouth shut. I could see the want of his comeback. He vibrated with it. It took several seconds of silence for him to finally speak.
“I’m not your family,” he said in a tone that seemed absolute. As if he knew without a doubt that he had no blood ties to any of us. “My family is dead.”
My brain buzzed with all the questions I wanted to ask him. Why was he here? Who sent him here? What was his background? Who are you?
He lifted his hand to wipe his face and winced. Dropping his hand to his side he scowled at me. “You’re fucking psycho. It was just a game.” He made a hasty retreat to his room, holding on to his ribs.
A game?
The asshole needed to learn the rules of this place.
I heard his door close but not the chair. I breathed in a moment, just letting myself calm down.
Not happening.
Reaching his door, I pushed it open without knocking. It almost slammed against the wall. Everything I’d meant to say drained away at the picture of Tomás bare chested in front of me. His pants were unbuttoned and hanging low on his hips. Every bit of him exposed awakened something feral inside of me. A desire so deep, I feared releasing it. I suddenly forgot how to breathe, to talk, to make sense of shit.
“What the fuck?”
The angry sound of his voice snapped me out of my stupidity, and I remembered why I entered in the first place. “You think this is a game? Where the hell do you think you are? Who the hell do you think goes to school here? Because they aren’t friends, they aren’t life-long partners. They’re sons and daughters of assassins, drug dealers, mafia, cartel, and the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” I should’ve shut up. But I couldn’t. For some reason, I needed him to understand. “Nothing in this place is a game. It’s a test to measure your strength, and out there,” I pointed at the window, “beyond the campus, they’ll rip you apart. So if I were you, I’d really start thinking about alliances. Consider who has your back before someone drives a knife right through it.”
His eyes widened, his mouth opened and closed, and I felt that stirring inside of me that burned all my nerve endings. Then he had to make it worse. “Why do you hate me so much?”
About the Author
Roxas writes dark, forbidden MM Romance with morally gray characters you will love to hate. Beautiful Dark Temptation is her first novel in a planned series.
