THE THIRD WISH by Jewel Quinlan @evernightpub @JewelQuinlan

 

Blurb:

Owen only has one wish left. And this time, he wants to ensure it doesn’t come with nightmare side effects like his first two did. Unfortunately, Cleo, the scornful genie granting his desires, isn’t willing help. With the wish deadline fast approaching, Owen must find a way to gain Cleo’s assistance, or he’ll be stuck forever in a tangle of his own making.

 

Where You Can Buy It

Evernight Publishing | Amazon | Barnes and Noble | iBooks | Kobo

Or add it to your shelf on Goodreads

 

Excerpt:

“…Maybe if you’d executed my first two wishes better I wouldn’t be so strung out.” Wrong thing to say. If I could have punched myself, I would have.

Cleo stiffened, eyes wide. And then they narrowed, and I could almost see the millions of ways she was killing me in her mind right now. I braced myself for a barrage of scorn mixed with profanity. If there was one thing I’d learned about Cleo in the past couple of months, it was that she had an extensive vocabulary of swear words. Not only was her range impressive, it was also interestingly exotic. I was well acquainted with it because it’d been directed at me on the frequent occasions I managed to get her to come out of the pill box. I’d thought I’d heard it all at this point in my life, but she proved me wrong. And somehow, whenever she directed her skill at me, I couldn’t help but feel that every term she used was eminently fitting.

“I’m so sorry you’re dissatisfied with your first two wishes, Master,” she drawled in an uncharacteristically chilly tone that made me shiver. “I shall return to my vessel and spend my time reflecting on how to do better with your third wish.” She turned and moved away from the door.

Fuck. The lack of profanity made me panic. I leapt up the stairs in one bound and grabbed her arm in desperation. If she evaporated back into the box, I’d have a hell of a time getting her to come out again. “Cleo, I’m sorry. Don’t go. I’m an asshole, okay? A dick. I’m—I’m every foul word you’ve called me since we met.”

The skin of her arm was soft beneath my fingers, but the biceps was firm. Did she work out? Would a genie even need to, being able to shapeshift and all? There was a small strange golden tattoo on her arm. I watched, fascinated, as it shifted from a crescent moon, to some intricate round design that reminded me of snowflakes, and then into a symbol of some kind. This close, her scent was warm in my nostrils. It was a mix of jasmine, incense, and something spicy that I had yet to identify. The intoxicating medley had visited me in my dreams more than once.

“Take … your hand … off me.”

The words were spoken slowly and in a deadly acid that had me snatching my hand back as though I’d touched a hot exhaust pipe. She glared up at me and twitched her arm as if to dislodge any germs I’d left on her creamy skin.

“Sorry. So sorry,” I said, my words coming out light and breathy as though I might set off a bomb. I took a half step back from her, lifting my hands in front of me in that universal I’m-not-armed gesture. “Please don’t go,” I pleaded. “I really need your help. Please.”

There were less than three days left for me to make my third wish, and I was desperate not to fuck it up. I’d made the first two rather quickly, and they hadn’t turned out exactly as I’d hoped. Well, no, I can’t say that. I’d gotten exactly what I’d wished for. I was now ridiculously wealthy and famous. The problem was that both of those things had come with a lot of problems, like fleeing from people who were trying to kill me for reasons I had yet to determine. And I really didn’t want to spend the rest of my life using my new, magically-granted resources running, hiding, and generally having to look over my shoulder for the rest of my days. Of course, I could always wish to undo the first two wishes. But who in their right mind would do that? I ran a hand through my hair, and pleaded with her with my eyes.

Cleo made a scoffing noise and raked a critical gaze from my black biker boots, over my favorite well-worn jeans and grey t-shirt, and finally to my face, which no doubt looked more haggard than ever from worry and an overgrown five o’clock shadow. “And why should I help you? Out of the goodness of my heart?”

I scrambled to think of something to say, but my mind was blank. I was a mere human. And before she’d come into my life, I was only doing a passable job at being that. There was nothing I could give her that she couldn’t give herself, not even freedom.

“I can’t think of anything,” I said, feeling deflated. “But maybe you can.” It was a shot in the dark, but worth it. There was a faint glimmer in her caramel-colored eyes that signaled I was on the right track. Inspired, I pushed forward, desperate. “Is there something?”

She relaxed her stance, making hope soar within me. Then she dropped her gaze to the floor as if—No. Could it be?—as if she was reluctant to say it. I closed the gap between us again, feeling bolder, but I didn’t touch her. “Tell me,” I urged in a low voice, fascinated. “I want to know. No, I have to know. What I could possibly give you that you would want?”

 

About the Author:

Jewel Quinlan is a bestselling paranormal and contemporary romance author. Since her debut in late 2013, she has published fifteen stories and has many more to come. Restless by nature, she is an avid traveler and has visited sixteen countries so far. Lover of ice cream, dark beer, and red wine, she tries to stay fit when she’s not typing madly on her computer drafting another romance novel. In her spare time, she likes to do yoga, hike, learn German, and play with her spoiled Chihuahua, Penny.

 

For more information about Jewel Quinlan

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STORMS OVER BABYLON by Jennifer Macaire @jennifermacaire ‏@simonschuster

A storm is coming –  Ashley knows Alexander is going to die, unless she can somehow trick the Time Senders. In Babylon, everything is coming to a head. 

 

Storms Over Babylon
Accent Press / Simon & Schuster
Buy now!

 

Blurb : 

From the scorching plains of Persia to the opulent city of Babylon, Ashley and Alexander continue their sensuous and passionate journey through history. Alexander the Great is now king of Persia and Greece – but his reign will be short. Time-travelling Ashley knows when her husband will die. She’s determined to cheat Fate and save Alexander and her children, even if it brings the gates of time crashing down. Following Alexander on a tour of his new kingdom, she plans her moves and bides her time. She must, however, convince Alexander to abandon his crown and his kingdom.

 

Buy now links :

http://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Storms-Over-Babylon/Jennifer-Macaire/9781682996393

http://www.amzn.com/B07535RPYC

https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Jennifer_Macaire_Storms_Over_Babylon

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/storms-over-babylon-jennifer-macaire/1127012046

 

 

Excerpt :

In the month of May, the weather took a turn for the worse. Thunderstorms boomed over the city and there were swarms of hungry mosquitoes at night. Alexander had to oversee religious celebrations, some lasting until very late, and one evening he came back with a slight chill. I didn’t think much of it. Usse gave him some hot tea, and we lay down in bed. Plexis was already asleep, lying in his own bed next to ours. The mosquito netting moved slightly in the breeze. It was much cooler than it had been all week; the rain had cleared the air. During the night, Alexander developed a high fever. The next morning he could hardly move, his muscles cramped and he was drenched in sweat. It was malaria.
‘How do you feel now?’ I asked him for the hundredth time that day, after Usse gave him his medicine.
Alexander opened one eye and stared at me. It was his blue eye, I noticed. ‘I would feel better if my head stopped hurting,’ he admitted. ‘The fever is making me thirsty. Do you have any water nearby?’
‘Of course.’
I poured water from the pitcher into his golden cup and held it for him as he drank. The muscles in his throat worked as the water went down. Then he lay back on the bed with a sigh. ‘Do I die of malaria then?’ he asked. He tried to grin, but his mouth trembled suddenly. I leaned down and kissed him on his lips. They were hot and dry despite the cool drink.
‘Are you afraid?’
‘I thought I wouldn’t be.’ He took a shaky breath and let it out slowly. ‘But that was when I thought the only thing that counted was my kingdom.’
‘And now?’ I asked him.
‘I’ve had time to think. When you saved Plexis that’s when things began to change for me. I realized something I hadn’t known before. I want to stay with you. I love you, Ashley of the Sacred Sandals. I have told you that twice before. I should have said it more. Now, with this fever making my bones ache, I will tell you a third time. I want to see the babe you carry. I want to grow old surrounded by my loved ones. I no longer want to die. Does that answer your question? Yes, I am afraid.’
‘Don’t be afraid. I love you too, Alex.’
‘So why do you cry?’ He reached a hand to my cheek and brushed tears away.
‘Because I never dared hope that you would let go of your dream.’ My tears fell faster now. Teardrops sparkled on his hands like diamonds.
‘It took me long enough to understand that my dream was an empty one without you and Plexis by my side, and that my future was an illusion. Ashley, don’t cry. Please. I feel as if I’ve woken up from a long nightmare. All the battles and bloodshed, all the good men who died following me, they will lie on my conscious for ever. Only you will be able to ease my mind. You have seen the future, so you can tell me that it was not all futile.’
‘Of course not, Alexander. Nothing you did was futile.’
‘It feels that way now,’ he said. His eyes were very bright. I frowned at him. He was starting to sound distinctly un-Alexander-like. I put my hand on his forehead and jerked it back with a muffled cry. He was burning up.

 

About the Author:

 Jennifer Macaire is an American living in Paris. She likes to read, eat chocolate, and plays a mean game of golf. She grew up in upstate New York, Samoa, and the Virgin Islands. She graduated from St Peter and Paul High School in St Thomas and moved to NYC where she modelled for five years for Elite. She went to France and met her husband at the polo club. All that is true. But she mostly likes to make up stories.

 

 

 

 

 

HIDDEN MAGIC by E.D. Parr @evernightpub @parr_books

Thank you for hosting me with new release MM romance Hidden Magic.

I had this story in my head for months before I started to write it. The elf, Owain Lovage, was so clear in my imagination but not his lover to be. Rowan kept disappearing and then reforming. I knew he had to be special because Owain is so sure he can never have a human partner.

***

Blurb:

Owain is lonely but he’s a happy soul, already in love with nature and as much as Rowan stirs him as they meet, Owain is calm and takes the love poured out to him from Rowan like gifts.

Rowan is highly sexual and used to taking what he needs from the men he meets. He pursues Owain from the start, but as soon as they connect, he’s lost in a pull of attraction he’s never felt before. He falls in love with Owain long before he knows it.

There’s a twist, as always, in my romances and of course a happy ending. I hope you enjoy the passion between these two men and the fun in the build to the end where I allow life to play tricks on them the way we all know it can.

 

Warning: This MM love story contains, MM sex, rimming, frottage, in the frequent love scenes

*Paranormal gay male romantic erotica, Hidden Magic, 114 pages

 

On launch special at Evernight Publishing!

http://www.evernightpublishing.com/hidden-magic-by-e-d-parr/

Available Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0786SVL37

Available all other Amazon sites: Global link http://a-fwd.com/asin-com=B0786SVL37

Siren Bookstrand http://www.bookstrand.com/hidden-magic-mm

 

 

Read a Teaser…

“I should get home.” Owain closed the trunk and walked with Rowan to the cottage.

Rowan led the way down the hall and into the dining room where he placed the box he carried on a long table. “Why, Owain? Is someone there waiting for you? Do you have a boyfriend?” His cock still strained against his jeans, and he ached to hold Owain close. It was as if he’d already become addicted to the gorgeous man who glanced at him with his sexy dark eyes.

Without answering, Owain carefully placed the box of mistletoe on the table.

Rowan gazed at Owain. He had to know right then if this man was available. “Tell me.”

Owain’s eyes filled with what looked to Rowan like pleasure and amusement—a strange mix of emotions.

Rowan smiled, happier. “Please.”

“I have no one waiting for me. I don’t have a boyfriend, lover, or partner. I have somewhere to be, though. There’s always a family gathering for Yule. People come from across the country. I always help plan it.” He smiled and touched Rowan’s arm. “We could meet tomorrow.”

The smile and suggestion sent waves of happiness over Rowan. “I’ll come out to the car with you. We’ll make arrangements.” He followed Owain to the driver’s side of the SUV.

Owain leaned against the door and held out his arms.

Rowan’s heart leapt as he saw the gesture. There was no one to see, and he surged into Owain’s arms, pushing his cock on Owain’s hard body. “You’ll never know how welcome this is, to press against you, to have you hold me. Owain, I want you so badly. I can’t believe it.” He murmured the words a breath away from Owain’s lips—then Owain kissed him. It was like falling into a soft, sexual haze that lifted him from his feet. His eyes closed, heavy with lust, and he grabbed Owain’s hips to thrust his lower body along Owain’s until with a groan he contacted the hard column of Owain’s cock. “You want me, too.”

Owain left his mouth as Rowan broke the kiss to breathe and speak. He nuzzled one of Rowan’s ears and whispered. “I’m fucking desperate.”

Rowan pushed his hand between them and pressed his palm on the shape of Owain’s erection.

“I wish there was somewhere to go now. I wish I could open your pants and suck the cum from you. I’m so hard my cock’s aching.”

Owain gently put him at arm’s length. “I’m the same, but I must go now. I work at the reindeer farm, that’s my place. In my jacket pocket there’s a business card. Come to see me any time tomorrow. I’ll show you around.” He brought out the card he’d referred to and held it out to Rowan.

Rowan took it. “I will.” He gazed at Owain. “I never expected to meet you.”

Owain leaned to his face and placed a soft, quick kiss on his mouth. “I’m glad you did.”

 

Copyright E.D.Parr 2017 Evernight Publishing

Find E.D.Parr online:

Evernight Publishing http://www.evernightpublishing.com/e-d-parr/

Twitter https://twitter.com/parr_books

Amazon page https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B01MUNJ3I8\

Blog https://parrx.blogspot.com

G+ https://plus.google.com/u/0/109826263935095799032

Facebook @parrbooks

https://www.facebook.com/parrbooks/

 

Season of Seduction Anthology #SoS #SeasonofSeduction #kindleunlimited #KU

SeasonSeductionWBoxset

Season of Seduction

**NOW AVAILABLE IN KINDLE UNLIMITED!**

Limited Edition collection of Holiday romances

Ring in the holidays this year with this collection of steamy to sexy scintillating reads from today’s hottest bestselling authors. Whether you’re looking for a romance by the warm glow of the fireplace or a passionate romp on a bear skin rug, there is something for all readers, for every taste, desire, and whim. Come and join us, won’t you? This is sure to be a Season… of Seduction.

Purchase Links:

Amazon

 

 

LADY OF THORNS by Nicola M. Cameron @YesItsNicolaC

Hello, and thanks so much for having me on today! Lady of Thorns is the third book in a series that was never supposed to be a series. I’ve been describing it as “Lady Mary from Downton Abbey goes head to head with Alan Shore from Boston Legal—and hijinks ensue!” While I’ve resigned Danaë and Matthias to the background for now, fear not, Mattaë fans—book four will run in parallel to the events of Lady of Thorns and covers what happens when Matthias arrives in Hellas for his first official visit after the wedding.

In the meantime I do hope you enjoy the story of Amelie and Alain, and I can promise that they’ll make another appearance down the line as I now know where I’m going with this series. All I will say about that is: buckle up, because it’s going to be a bumpy ride. Mwahahahaha…

Blurb:

Love was never supposed to be part of the deal…

Lady Amelie de Clerq’s prickly demeanor and earth mage abilities have earned her the nickname “Lady of Thorns,” keeping potential suitors at bay and making her the butt of the nobility’s jokes. Determined to attract a husband who will love her for herself rather than her fortune, she decides to embark on a journey of sensual self-discovery.

Alain LaPorte, wily lawyer and toast of the capital’s social set, has been summoned to Lierdhe to oversee business negotiations with a neighboring earl. When Amelie asks Alain to tutor her in the bedroom arts, he agrees to introduce the virgin mage to pleasure. But lessons in lovemaking soon turn into a matter of the heart, forcing both Amelie and Alain to confront their fears about intimacy, loyalty, and love.

 

  • Fantasy, Erotic Romance, MF
  • Word Count: 80,000
  • Heat Level 4
  • Published By: Belaurient Press

Books in the Two Thrones series:


Excerpt

 

LaPorte returned with two goblets of wine and handed her one, the deep garnet of the liquid lit with reflected fire from the candlelight. “I’m glad you came. I must admit, I was afraid you’d changed your mind.”

Amelie took a deep sip, hoping the cool, tart wine would help soothe her nerves. “I had to persuade my maid that I didn’t require help getting ready for bed.” As it was, she wasn’t sure that she’d convinced Jeanette with her excuse that she planning on going back down to her office. “I apologize if I kept you waiting.”

“No apologies necessary.” He showed her to a pair of chairs set on either side of the fireplace and sat down. “You look lovely.”

She plucked at the light blue wool of her gown, wishing she had worn something more alluring, or at least with a lower neckline. Her mother’s closet was full of silky, clingy dresses with daring necklines, and she would have given a great deal to rummage through them. Instead, I come to him dressed like some awkward girl.

Which I suppose I am. “Thank you. You look very handsome.”

He smiled at that. “Thank you, my lady.”

A silence fell after that. She fidgeted with the goblet, wishing she didn’t feel like such a fool. The weight of his attention was tangible, causing her stomach to flutter. “I don’t know what to say now,” she confessed.

“You don’t have to say anything. Drink your wine and let me look at you.”

Her mouth dried again at that and she took a quick sip from her goblet. “I’m sorry about the plainness of my gown. I’m afraid I don’t have anything appropriate to wear to—” A seduction. “—something like this.”

His lips quirked at that. “I asked you to leave what you had on because I liked it. Pretty gowns make for lovely gift wrapping, true, but it all comes off in the end anyway. Besides, there’s a certain appeal to a gown such as yours.”

“I don’t see what that could be,” she muttered into her goblet.

“It’s what it represents. Youth, innocence, an unknown territory ripe to be explored. I suspect it’s the reason why so many men have a fondness for deflowering virgins—they relish being the first man a woman has known intimately.”

She tried to lock the question behind her jaws, but it popped out. “Do you like that?”

“Deflowering virgins?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

She slouched lower in her chair. “Oh.”

He held up a hand. “Not to say that I have anything against it, mind you. Everyone has to start somewhere, after all. But I don’t fetishize it to the degree that other men do. I see it more as a starting point on a very pleasant journey.”

She hadn’t thought of it that way. “And you don’t think less of me for my request?”

“Not at all, my lady. You know what you want, and you wish an experienced tutor to help you achieve it. It’s all quite reasonable to me.” He settled in his chair, sipping his wine. “As I’m playing tutor to you in this area, are there any questions you wish to ask me?”

There were, actually. “Will it hurt much?”

“It shouldn’t. If I make sure you’re aroused and open first, you should be able to take me without discomfort.”

Take him. Those simple words set warmth surging through her lower belly. “So, no gushing blood or rending pain, then.”

He rolled his eyes. “That might be the case if a maid beds a huge brute of a man who’s only interested in his own pleasure. But that won’t be the case with you, I can assure you. I’m confident enough in my ability to couch a lance without causing you harm.”

Even if there would be pain, she was prepared to bear it for the promise of pleasure afterwards. She wondered how many women he’d taken to bed, but found she didn’t want to know the answer. “How do we do this? Go from sitting here to naked and in bed?”

Alain studied her, then drained his goblet. “Like this, my lady.”


Where to Buy

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Google Play | iTunes | Print


About the Author

Nicola Cameron is an expatriate Chicagoan who has lived in England, Canada, Holland, and Sweden, and keeps a confusing amalgamation of languages in her head as a result. Currently located in the clavicle of Texas, she has finally mastered the proper use of “y’all,” much to her Chicago family’s dismay.

Despite a healthy interest in sex since puberty, it wasn’t until 2012 that Nicola decided to try writing about it. As it turned out, the skills she picked up during her SF writing career transferred rather nicely to erotic romance. When not writing, she wrangles cats, smooches her husband, makes dolls of dubious and questionable identity, and thanks almighty Cthulhu that she doesn’t have to work for a major telecommunications company any more (because there’s BDSM, and then there’s just plain torture…).

Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads

 

PALACE OF SCOUNDRELS by Nicola M. Cameron @YesItsNicolaC

palaceofscoundrelspdf

PALACE OF SCOUNDRELS by NICOLA M. CAMERON

Hello, and thanks so much for having me on today! Palace of Scoundrels is kind of a surprise baby because the first book in the series, Empress of Storms, was supposed to be a standalone until I started getting asked when the sequel was coming out. I am not one to disappoint readers. I’m describing Palace of Scoundrels as “Game of Thrones, except with less violent death and more snark. The wine drinking is about the same, though.” And I already have an outline for Book Three and two novellas in the same universe – whee!

Fantasy Romance, Erotic Romance, MF
Word Count: 70,000
Heat Level 4
Published by Belaurient Press
ISBN: 978-1-37-031324-2

 

BLURB:

Spring has sprung in the island kingdom of Hellas, and with it come thoughts of young love and fruitful fields. But with no signs of an occupant for the royal nursery, Queen Danaë is starting to worry about her own fertility. Her concerns aren’t helped by the arrival of the legendarily conniving Dowager Queen Atilia of Illium–or the woman’s handsome grandson Prince Marcus, on the run after being accused of poisoning his older brother.

In the neighboring kingdom of Ypres, Danaë’s royal husband Matthias is dealing with dangerous family politics and a wolfish duke who has kidnapped a young noblewoman for immoral purposes. Or has he? Can Matthias ward off the threat of civil war, outwit his relatives, and deal with a charming rival in his wife’s own palace?

BUY LINKS:

twothronesseriesheader

 

EXCERPT

Matthias pulled Danaë into his lap, squeezing her close. She felt his chest rumble in rueful laughter. “Only you could fall into the ocean, be rescued by pirates, and wind up haring off with them on a treasure hunt.”

“Oddly enough, Father said much the same thing,” she admitted. “But it turned into a wonderful adventure. I even got my favorite tiara out of it, the silver one with the large pearl.” She’d also earned the unswerving loyalty of Captain Jason Constantinedes and his crew, who now served as her personal spy network outside of Hellas. After brief consideration she decided not to mention the days she had spent as Jason’s willing lover. It was in the past, and she didn’t want Matthias harboring a grudge against Jason if the captain ever had cause to come to Hellaspont. “They brought me back home with a wealth of knowledge about piracy on the high seas. Which is why I know I don’t want to be a pirate queen.”

“Thank the gods for that,” Matthias muttered, kissing her hair. “You’re rapacious enough as it is.”

She turned so that she could nuzzle under his ear, licking the salty skin there. “I never heard you complain before.”

“I’m not complaining now, little bird, merely observing.”

She hummed, catching his earlobe between her teeth and nibbling on it. “Rapacious,” she whispered after she let it go. “I like the sound of that.” His breath caught as she traced spirals on his skin with the tip of her tongue. She could smell clean sweat, male musk, and something distinctly Matthias underneath it all. “Would you like me to show you how rapacious I can be?” she teased.

“Another night, perhaps,” She heard a promise in his voice. “Tonight, milady, I plan on doing the boarding.”

His arms tightened around her and he got up with a soft grunt, carrying her to the bed and dropping her onto the silk coverlet. She bounced with a giggle and rose up on her elbows, watching avidly as he pulled off his shirt and breeches. Regular riding and sparring matches with his guard had kept him muscled and firm, and she could spend hours running her fingers over the curves and dips of his body, particularly his broad, furred chest. The flickering light from candle and fireplace transformed the hair there into gold and amber sparks, trailing down his carved abdomen before spreading into a darker nest of curls around his rising cock. She rubbed her thighs together, feeling the delicious ache that always grew between them when he stripped like this for her.

He cupped himself, squeezing the shaft hard enough to make the sheathed head bulge. “Still want a statue of me?” he asked, with the cheerful arrogance of a man who knew he was desired.

She licked her lips. “More than ever.”

He glanced down at his swelling flesh and grinned. “You can’t scare me, you know. I’ve seen the kind of statuary you have in Hellas. I doubt anyone would bat an eyelash at it.”

“Bat an eyelash, no. Be violently jealous of me, yes.” It was her turn to tease, and she took her time unfastening the brooches that held up her gown. She slid the delicate fabric over one breast, then the other, letting it caress her hardening nipples. The sensation made her shiver. Cupping one breast, she rolled the peak between her fingers, imagining his hot, wet mouth around it. “The question is, what will your future subjects think when they see the statue of me?”

Matthias put a knee on the mattress. The movement made the furred sac between his legs swing a bit, and she reached out to cradle it, enjoying how he shivered at her touch. “The women will weep from envy, and the men will all fall in love with you,” he murmured, his voice rough and needy. “And none of them will ever have you.”

“No, they won’t,” she breathed, letting him push her onto her back. The ache between her hips grew, turning into a slow, sweet throb. “Only you, my love.


 

AUTHOR BIO

Nicola Cameron is an expatriate Chicagoan who has lived in England, Canada, Holland, and Sweden, and keeps a confusing amalgamation of languages in her head as a result. Currently located in the clavicle of Texas, she has finally mastered the proper use of “y’all,” much to her Chicago family’s dismay.

Despite a healthy interest in sex since puberty, it wasn’t until 2012 that Nicola decided to try writing about it. As it turned out, the skills she picked up during her SF writing career transferred rather nicely to erotic romance. When not writing, she wrangles cats, smooches her husband, makes dolls of dubious and questionable identity, and thanks almighty Cthulhu that she doesn’t have to work for a major telecommunications company any more (because there’s BDSM, and then there’s just plain torture…).

 

twothronesseriesheader

STAYED FOR ALPHA by Rose Wulf

Hello again! Thank you so much for having me back! This time I’m here to tell you about the latest installment in my Night Shadows series: Stayed for Alpha!

Blurb:

Adam Jefferies is a young Alpha taking a big risk. He wants to set down roots in California – a state largely claimed by the oldest and most powerful vampires. He’s going to have to earn their place the hard way.
 
Whitney King is a Rogue wolf with a single purpose in life: get revenge for the pack that took her in so many years ago. The pack that was slaughtered by a dangerous vampire. She’s tracked that vampire to California and she’s prepared to risk her life to end him. But she’s not prepared to find something worth living for…
 
When Adam takes Whitney in she says it’s temporary. He knows it won’t be, but he’ll have to show her why if he wants her to stay.

Excerpt:

But when was the last time Rogues traveled in groups? Maybe that was the problem. Dylan was obviously Rogue. That alone would give most wolves reason to be cautious. Brody and Camila were followers. Gammas. Their attaching themselves to a stronger wolf made sense. And if Dylan had Alpha in him, his acceptance of them would make sense, too. But he swore he didn’t.
            Adam just wasn’t sure whether or not he believed that.
            As he watched, Dylan leaned a little too far into Whitney’s personal space and Whitney recoiled. Adam felt a surge of possessiveness flare inside him. Dylan was flirting with her and it pissed him off. Fortunately, Whitney’s rejection of those advances was fairly obvious. Except, apparently, to Dylan.
            Dylan’s arm extended as though he were reaching for her and Whitney moved fluidly to her feet. Out of reach.
            Adam took a step forward on instinct.
            “Hey, Dylan,” Jim called from the grill a heartbeat later. He gestured with the tongs he held. “Why don’t I show you how to work this thing?”
            That was probably for the best. Although if Adam’s possessive instincts didn’t cool off, Dylan’s time with them would have to be cut short.
            Whitney used the opportunity to extract herself from the others and strode toward him purposefully. She stepped right into his personal space like she belonged there. “Kiss me,” she breathed. “Make a scene.”
            Adam didn’t really need to be asked, but he didn’t bother to explain that, either. Instead he wrapped his arms around her waist and hauled her up to his lips. His tongue slipped into her mouth without resistance and Whitney’s hands dug into his shoulders as she held onto him. He nearly growled against her lips. Suddenly he felt like he’d been starving for her, and it was harder than it should have been to keep the kiss from leading somewhere.
            He was hard and suitably breathless when the kiss broke. The sound of her own uneven breathing drew a brief grin from him. Until he remembered the reason for her demand. “Was Dylan bothering you?” he asked, voice low so as not to carry.
            Whitney laid her head on his shoulder, face turned in so that she could talk quietly. “More like annoying. I’m hoping he’ll take the hint.”
            Doing his best to smother his growl, Adam bent his head and traced his lips along her slender throat. “We’ll just keep reinforcing it.” Right then, right in that moment, Adam would have marked her as his just to keep her safe from another wolf’s harassment. As it was, he vowed that for as long as she was his he’d make sure his scent lingered on her skin. Thick enough that no wolf with half a nose could miss it.
            “Are you sure about including them?” Whitney asked, drawing him out of his lust-induced frenzy. Mostly.
            Adam frowned and lifted his head so that his chin rested on her head. She fit perfectly against him. Slender and soft, a good head shorter. Perfect for holding in his arms and wrapping himself around. But this wasn’t the time to be thinking about those things. Those might be things best left unexplored, even. “I’m reserving judgment. I have to consider it, at least.”

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About Rose:

 

            Rose Wulf is a giant romance fangirl. Hot, protective, sometimes even downright barbaric heroes and spitfire heroines are her favorites. Rose has been writing for as long as she can remember, and over the years she’s only grown fonder of it. The bonds between characters have always captivated her, and as an author those are Rose’s favorite things to play with – not always to the relief of her fictional babies!
            Behind the scenes Rose is a quiet personality. She enjoys spending her non-writing time with her German Shepherd, Shadow, her mom, and her friends. Be it a fun game of Cards Against Humanity or a relaxing movie night, Rose believes everything is better with company. As for her own romance, she’s still searching for her hero (and hoping that, when she does find him, he’ll be willing to cook!).

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