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Ash Swan by Amber Kell and Stephani Hecht – Re-Release

Amazon | ARe

Also please note, if you have a copy of your receipt, please email Sheri at authoraccomplice@gmail.com to receive your new copy of Ash Swan.

This is a re-issue of a previously published work.

Landon Cob future king of Aria had four years before he could legally be king. Deciding to use this time to learn about other cultures, Landon travels to the realm of earth to see how they run things. His work with the governor helps him learn about earthly ways, but it isn’t until he meets Brian Dawson that he really starts to think about his future.

Brian Dawson doesn’t know what to think of the gorgeous man who takes him home after he has a spill. In his experience people were rarely kind for no reason. When Landon is hit with a curse Brian learns that evil witches and magic can be real. In his wildest dreams he never thought his love life would include a king.

 

Excerpt:

It was a good thing Petra didn’t believe in tradition, decorum, or any of those other stuffy things. Otherwise it would have been hard for her to justify wearing a white string bikini while dancing on MTV’s live spring break show. To be fair, there had to be at least a hundred other people dancing with her, but she doubted any of the others were a fairy godmother in training.
To make her little, itty-bitty sin greater, she was supposed to be back at the academy studying with her classmates. But who wanted to be stuck in a stuffy room reading about spells, object transformations, or how to counter wicked curses when the sun was up and a hundred buff, half-naked studs were calling?
This morning, when she woke and spotted the oh-so-tempting Fort Lauderdale weather report, she did what any other immortal young gal of one hundred years would do—she magically retracted her wings, tucked her bright red hair up into a bun, and grabbed her beachwear.
The last thing she wanted or expected was a summons to the high castle, and yet that’s exactly what came while she was pressed between two hot men in what could possibly have passed for dancing but was actually more like a simulated sex act.
The summons shocked her, horrified her, and made her completely forget to change her clothes before she answered the call. Which was how she ended up in the middle of the throne room, dressed only in her thread of a bikini and about ten gallons of suntan oil from her former dance partners’ bodies.
Petra stumbled a bit on her high-heeled white sandals. A wave of dizziness always followed teleportation. As she looked up, she became painfully aware of all the disapproving gazes pointed her way—and by all she meant a lot… a whole, whole lot.
“Crap,” she whimpered under her breath.
The crowded throne room of the royal castle of Aria was so packed it would have been shut down by the Fire Marshall if they were on Earth. The king, the queen, and all seven of their kids stood prominently on a dais at the front of the room. Worst of all, Petra’s mentor and main teacher, Eleanor, stood just a few feet from them. Judging from the look of shock and horror on her face, she wasn’t pleased. She even let out a strangled sound as she put a hand to her chest.
Unlike Petra, Eleanor wore the customary fairy godmother garb. Her dark pink gown perfectly matched her mauve wings. Complementary beads and gemstones threaded throughout her intricately braided brown hair, making her look regal. Eleanor swallowed hard a few times; her face turned all kinds of interesting colors, and then she snapped her fingers.
A gown appeared on Petra, covering her bikini and sending a surge of annoyance through her when she noted the pale yellow color. Eleanor knew Petra hated yellow. No doubt her mentor had done that on purpose—a subtle punishment.
Petra’s wings burst out of her back with a loud whooshing sound. The crowd gasped at the all-black color, causing a flood of shame to redden her cheeks. Some fairies considered black wings a bad omen, or worse, an outright death curse, while others pooh-poohed the idea and considered it old-fashioned. Obviously the palace crowd had yet to catch up with the times.
The oldest prince, a boy with dark brown hair and matching eyes, smiled at her, showing off the cutest set of dimples. The youngest boy, an infant with a mop of blond curls, let out a bubble of laughter as he stared at her wings.
Ha! At least some people had good taste.
Petra plastered on her best serious expression as she curtsied first to the king and queen, and then to Eleanor. “You summoned me here, mistress?”
“Yes. I have some sad news. Finnegan died this afternoon,” Eleanor announced.
Now that did come as shocking news. As a fairy godfather, Finnegan was immortal, which meant he should have been damn hard to kill. So either he’d done something incredibly stupid or somebody had murdered him. Given what an ass the guy was—oops, had been—Petra could see either scenario playing out.
“Let me guess… he boinked the wrong guy’s wife.”
Although Petra had whispered the sentence to her mentor, the gasp coming from the queen let her know she hadn’t been as quiet as she’d hoped. Eleanor closed her eyes and moved her lips. Petra knew she was silently counting to ten—something her mentor did with alarming frequency since being named Petra’s advisor.
“No, he got into an unfortunate chariot accident.”
Oooh, it must have been unfortunate indeed… as in decapitation or some other gruesome end.
“He was hanging out with Puck again, wasn’t he?” Petra sadly shook her head. Even she knew better than to hang out with that mess of a guy. The one and only time she’d hung out with him, she’d woken up with a misspelled tattoo and a humdinger of a hangover.
“We can talk later. We have more important issues to discuss,” Eleanor stressed as she tipped her head to the side.
Petra may be slow at certain things, but she wasn’t stupid, so all sorts of alarm bells began to ring inside her head. Fear made her mouth dry. She nervously licked her lips in a lame effort to moisten them. “What’s going on?”
“You’re the last of the Emerald line. I’ve called you here to take over Finnegan’s duties.”
The queen interrupted them. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what this girl has to do with my children.”
“Forgive me, Your Highness. Please allow me to explain. Whenever a fairy child is born, they are bestowed with special gifts and talents. With those gifts comes a status that forever marks their place in fairy hierarchy. For centuries, the royal family has only been protected by those from the Emerald sect.”
“Why is that?” The queen flicked a dubious glance at Petra.
“Because Emerald fairies are best at countering curses and fighting off other forms of evil.”
“You mean to tell me that she is the best your kind has to offer?” the queen demanded, raising a shaking finger to point at Petra.
“She does hold great potential,” Eleanor defended.
It heartened Petra to hear a sliver of a compliment coming from her usually stern mentor. She wished she could have a videotape of the event. But all the warm fuzzies vanished at Eleanor’s next statement.
“Besides, she’s your only choice.”
“Nonsense. Just break with tradition and have a fairy from another sect watch over my children,” the queen ordered with a flick of her hand.
Petra’s dislike for the woman grew. While the queen might be pretty enough on the outside, with her white-blonde hair and deep blue eyes, on the inside, she was a troll. Petra knew since the one lesson she had managed to master was the ability to read person’s true self.
“Begging your pardon, Majesty, but that is impossible,” Eleanor said with a slight bow of her head.
The queen’s cheeks grew red with anger. “Why?”
“Because while you may rule here and have your own laws, our laws predate yours by thousands of years. We are the caretakers of the kingdom and, by rights, responsible for its citizens. So I’m afraid we can’t just put another fairy sect in charge.”
Petra’s lips parted in shock, and she barely managed to hold in the laughter.
Wow!
While she’d been on the receiving end of Eleanor’s censure before, Petra never dreamed her mentor would give the queen the same treatment. It was nice to see the mean woman put in her place.
“I’m the queen!”
“Yes, I realize that,” Eleanor replied in a firm voice, “but fairy inheritance is very complex. We can’t change our traditions on any royal’s say-so. Monarchs come and go, but we are the land’s eternal caretakers.”
“You expect me to allow that… that… hussy around my children?” The queen glared in Petra’s direction.
“Petra is young yet. She’ll grow into her role.”
The queen turned to her husband. “You’re the king. Make them listen to you.”
The king put a comforting hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Maybe we had better listen to the fairies. While their ways may not always make sense to us, they have our best interests at heart and have watched over our family for centuries.”
The oldest boy spoke up. “I like the fairy. She has pretty wings.”
“Shut up, Landon,” the queen hissed. “You’ll soon learn pretty isn’t everything.”
An unexpected surge of protectiveness rose in Petra. She wanted to lash out at the queen for speaking so harshly to her son. Petra opened her mouth to say something, only to press her lips tightly together again when Eleanor gave a slight shake of her head.
The queen scowled. “I may not know all the rules and archaic guidelines you fairies follow, but I do know I can refuse to have Petra serve my sons.”
Eleanor’s eyes grew dark with concern. “I would highly advise against that, majesty. If you refuse Petra, the fairy council won’t have anyone else to assign in her place. That would leave your children unprotected.”
“My husband has a vast army at his disposal to protect his family. I’m sure we don’t need the added service of some fairy tart.”
“Majesty, I beg you to reconsider. I’ve recently had troubling premonitions, ones that speak of a great threat to your sons. You’re going to need Petra’s skills in the future.”
The queen gave Petra another once-over before rolling her eyes. “The only thing this one knows how to do is drink excessively and sleep around. We don’t need that kind of influence on our children. Now, be gone. Both of you.”
“Wow, rude much?” Petra shot off before she could stop herself.
A strangled sound came from the queen. The king groaned as Eleanor’s lips twitched into what looked suspiciously like the beginnings of a smile.
Landon spoke up again. “But, mama, I want her to be our fairy godmother.”
“I told you to shut up!”
The queen lifted her hand to slap the child, but Petra quickly fired off a spell, freezing the woman’s arm.
“You will not harm him!” Petra’s voice quaked with fury. She didn’t know who was more surprised—the queen for having her slap interrupted, Landon from having an unlikely savior, or Eleanor for having her usually flaky student’s spell work.
“You are in no position to tell me what I can or cannot do to my children. You’re not even their fairy godmother,” the queen shrilly reminded Petra.
“That doesn’t mean I’m not going to do everything in my power to make sure nobody harms these children. If I see anyone so much as touch a hair on their heads, I’ll make sure they suffer in the worst way possible. That includes you.” She stunned herself with her vehemence. Normally, she wouldn’t have gone so far in her interference, but for some reason she felt all “mama bear” when it came to the boys. So much so that for the first time ever, she’d willingly used her fairy powers on somebody else. With a quick flick of her wrist, she released the queen.
Making sure to keep a look of fury on her face, Petra gave a slight curtsy. “Begging your pardon, Majesties, but the boys will always come first.”
“What about our daughter, Taylora?” the king asked. “After all, girl or not, she is our eldest.”
Petra glanced over at the girl. A shiver went down Petra’s spine as the child’s dark-eyed gaze pierced her soul. With raven hair and alabaster skin, the girl held a beauty that seemed to come straight from fairy tales. Her soul was a different story. It appeared black and corrupted, as if something evil had touched it. “Another fairy has already claimed Taylora, but I can’t discover who it may be. I do know that it’s somebody very powerful and into black magic.” A collective gasp went through the room, followed by excited murmuring, which only served to further infuriate the queen. She let out a shriek and her face grew red. “I want both of you out of here, now! I never want to see you again.”
Petra opened her mouth to argue, but Eleanor put a staying hand on her arm. “Come, let’s leave. Ancient laws dictate that we must follow her orders.”
“But who will protect the boys?” Petra’s heart sank as she stared at the six princes. In her soul, she knew they were all in danger and that she was the only one who could protect them. With a final glance at the boys, she allowed Eleanor to pull her away.

Exciting News

Even though I love eXtasy Books, I have received the rights back for all of my Lost Shifters and Wayne County Wolves books. What that means is, they will all be receiving nice, shiny new covers and extensive editing! Even better, I will be starting to write The Chronicles of Shane. I will be self-publishing all of these. Plus, I will, also, be self-publishing my new series that takes place ten years after an alien invasion on Earth. More info to come.

In other news, let’s all send good vibes Joie’s way. Even though she made it all the way to the State level in an art contest, she didn’t send in anything. Why? Because, she didn’t think that she was good enough to win!!! Now, we’ve all seen her work. Call me biased, but I think she’s amazing. I just need to get Joie to believe in herself.

What’s Up For The New Year

While plans can always change, this is what I have planed for the upcoming year. For one thing, it’s going to be full of changes and new things! I hope you’re going to be as excited about it as I am. I am going to be working more with some of my publishers and hooking up with some new ones.

First off, I will be expanding on my Dragon, Dire Wolf and Warlock Series. Plus, I will be starting a  new ghost/historical series with MLR. Then I have plans to start two new series with Pride Publishing. Then there is a Steampunk Series in the works with another publisher!. Oh! I nearly forgot the self-publishing series I’m venturing in. So, as you can see, I’m going to be very, very busy girl.

I’m back and I’m going full speed again. I’m myself again. I can’t wait to get back in-touch with you all and start having fun once more. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask them.

New Release!

Deck the Dire Wolves

Love is like the flower you’ve got to let grow-John Lennon.

 

Already reeling from being forced to flee his old home town, the last thing that Dire Wolf Clark needs is to find himself attracted to his new Alpha, Bishop. More surprising, is that Bishop seems to return Clark’s feelings. However, Clark has been hurt in the past and the last thing he needs is to find himself in another relationship. So, Clark withdraws and rebuffs Bishop. The last thing Clark expects is for Bishop to continue his chase of the Omega. Will Clark be able to let go and trust again or is he doomed to be alone forever?

Chapter One

Clark once read about what POWs of WWII suffered at the hands of their enemies, but he’d never dreamed that it would happen to him. Certainly, not at the hands of his own pack.

Sure, his family and pack had always been a bit odd. They lived off the grid–television, Internet, cell phones, and most books were off limits. As was running water, electricity, and all the comforts that normal people have.

Whenever anybody dared to question their Alpha about his reasoning, Bern said that it was because they couldn’t let anybody, human or Dire Wolf, know that their pack existed. While Clark could understand that, he never really quite got the literature and media thing. Even Clark had heard aboutAmerican Horror Story and he thought he would really like it.

Back to the point. The one where Clark was in the pack prison. Which was really a big issue. Especially given the fact that his skinny ass had been curled up in an underground cell for nearly two months. Actually, calling it a cell was an insult to all cells in the world. What he really was in was a shallow hole in the ground. By shallow, he meant a slight indention in the ground that had a set of bamboo bars over him. He was so close to them that they brushed his hair whenever he tried to move around. The fact that the ground was covered with three inches of snow didn’t help matters either. By his best estimate it was some time in December. Well, that and the fact that all the Betas just had an ugly holiday sweater party the other night.

They liked to call his current lodgings the “Omega Jail”, because no normal-sized Dire Wolf could fit in it. Even with his thin frame and small stature, every movement caused Clark agony. That was with the exception of the areas that had lost all feeling. His only true hope at the moment was, since they were barely feeding him, that he would waste away enough that his lodging would soon actually be comfortable.

Somebody gave the bars a swift kick, causing Clark to jump in fear. If he got the whip one more time, he swore that his already shredded skin was going to slide off his back. As it was, all his fingers were broken, because he’d dared to curl his fingers around the bars over him.

Glancing up from under the overgrown fringe of his blond hair, Clark’s heart began to thump with raw terror. It was Sheen, the Alpha’s Second Beta in command. Oh, and Clark’s oldest brother. Not that it really mattered, since Sheen had turned on him faster than Zoolander during a walk-off.

“I talked to Dad today,” Sheen said with a snide look only Stalin was capable of giving.

Dad? Dad, who? Last time Clark checked, his sperm donor had written him off as dead when the pack discovered Clark was gay. In fact, he was the asshole who’d turned him in and even worse, was the one who made it a unanimous vote to send Clark to the hellhole.

When Clark just glared at his brother, it only urged his brother on. “He found Mom crying over some old photos of you. She’s so weak that she refuses to see you for the defect you are. So, do you want to know what Dad did?”

Even though Clark’s blood boiled at the thought of what his father was capable of, he still didn’t speak. Whatever happened to her could not have been good. Clark was raised in a home where violence came first, then conversation after. All of which had consisted of him begging for forgiveness from the spawn of Satan. His mother had endured the same situation. It was only Sheen, the strong one, the brutal one, who was the apple in his father’s eyes. It was so sickening at times that Clark wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that they held hands while skipping their way to the ballpark. Then after, Sheen probably got an ice cream cone, double scoop, because nothing less would do for the super son.

Sheen continued, “Not only did he rip the pictures from her hands and throw them in the fire, but he gave her a really good beating. So bad that I’d be willing to bet she thinks you got off easy.”

“How does it feel?” Clark asked.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“To have the whole pack think that you’re some great enforcer. Protecting the innocent, being the Alpha’s Second Beta, all the while the truth is that you’re afraid of him too.”

Confusion crept into Sheen’s face. Something Clark had seen his fair share of. Not that all Betas were stupid, far from it. However, there was always one who broke the mold and in this case it was his brother. He was so dim-witted that at times he walked into walls, simply because he’d forgotten they were there.

“Afraid of who?” Sheen demanded.

“Your father. All those years you stood by and didn’t do a damn thing to protect your mother. Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t Betas supposed to protect the innocent? Not laugh while they are bleeding all over the living room carpet.”

Sheen stomped on the bars several times, causing them to bend and beat into Clark’s already up shit’s creek back. Clark had to bite his tongue to the point it was bleeding, but he refused to cry out in pain. That was one thing Sheen would never get from him. No matter how hard he tried. He didn’t deserve it, especially after all the other things Sheen had ripped away from Clark.

“I have never been afraid of him and that will never change,” Sheen raged.

Sheen’s dark hair gleamed from the various torches surrounding the prison and his eyes sparked with anger. Then the tick appeared above his right eye, the one that always let Clark know that he was in deep shit.

Sure enough, Sheen unlocked the cage then ripped Clark out of his hole. Pain shot through Clark’s body, both from the iron tight grip his brother had on him and from the simple act of walking. Every old wound in his body broke open and began to bleed. Plus, to add to Clark’s humiliation, he found he’d been in his near-fetal like position for so long that he couldn’t walk upright. He was reduced to a hunched over gait that would have made Igor proud.

“I think this Omega piece of shit needs a shower,” Sheen announced to the guards.

Clark’s stomach formed a tight knot. He’d had the opportunity of having a shower from the prison and it had been far from a pleasant experience. Before he knew it, his clothes were ripped off his body. Then he found himself shivering and naked as he stood in front of a concrete wall.

He tried to look toward the guards, so he would at least know when the blast of water was coming his way, but they were shining bright lighting in his eyes. So, all he could do was stand there in the spotlight, naked as the day he was born, and wait for the worst to begin.

There was a long pause, no doubt with the sole purpose to fuck with his mind. Then the water hit him. The blast was so cold and hard that it took everything Clark had in him to keep standing. And it hurt. Oh God, did it hurt. The icy water instantly made his muscles seize up. At the same time, it bore into his wounds. It was so bad that Clark made the mistake of turning around, exposing his back.

As soon as he did that, Clark wanted to kick his own ass for his stupidity. That made it so his back was exposed to the spray. He finally gave up the fight and let out a scream of pain. He clawed at the cement in a desperate bid to keep from falling, but his efforts were futile. Clark dropped to his knees so hard that he knew for sure he was going to have bruises later on.

Finally, after what seemed to be forever and a day, they turned off the hose. Clark lay on the ground, shivering both from the cold and the agony ripping through him. I’m not going to survive this. They are going to kill and bury me in some unmarked grave. Then I’ll only be a ghost, nobody will remember me, with the exception of Mother. Even then she would only mourn for me in private.

They left him on the concrete for such a long time, that he eventually stopped shivering. Clark was a paramedic, so he knew that didn’t mean he was getting warmer. He’d just slipped into the early state of hypothermia. That would be his luck, to freeze to death, balls out for everyone to see.

Just as he was accepting that would be a real possibility, somebody threw some clothes at him. While they were the drab, gray prison garb, holes and all, at least they were clean. Clark put them on as fast as possible. His frozen fingers and stiff joints made it a long, almost torturous process. Eventually, he managed to get dressed again.

How he wished he had his ability to shift. Not only would his fur keep him warm, but he could at least lick his wounds to heal them some. That was impossible, though. On his arrival to the prison, he’d been given an injection that made it so he was unable to turn into his Dire Wolf form. Worse yet, it had severed all contact with his inner Wolf, to the point where he didn’t think he’d ever feel it again. It was such a loss to who he was, that Clark almost felt as if a body part had been hacked off.

When they took him back to his cell, Clark was shocked to see that somebody had taken the time to clean it. Maybe, one of these goons actually had a piece of humanity. They didn’t even have to shove Clark in. He was so desperate to get into his ball of warmth, that he willingly crawled in.

Soon after, all the torches were doused and the prison was encased in complete darkness. Usually, Clark’s enhanced shifter skills would still have allowed him to see. But, since they’d taken that part away from him, he could barely make out his hand in front of his face.

He was almost asleep when he saw a light beam from a flashlight. To his horror, it made its way to his cage. Then there was a light thump as somebody sat down, next to him.

“Thank goodness. I never thought they’d leave,” a cool, feminine voice declared.

“Lillian? What are you doing here?” Clark asked.

While he might not be able to see her, Clark would have recognized her familiar tone anywhere. They were cousins, but they’d rarely seen each other, since their fathers didn’t get along well. Okay, maybe it would be better to say that they were mortal enemies and went for one another’s throats the instant they were in the same room. For Clark, that was a normal family exchange, so it’d never bothered him.

“I’m getting you the hell out of here,” she declared.

“Why would you take that risk for me? You have to know that they’re going to detect your scent and know it’s you.”

“Because, unlike our dads, I know the true meaning of family. I’m not about to stand by and let them kill you,” she replied.

“They’ll murder you if they catch you.”

“And they’ll finish you off if I don’t.”

In the dim light from the flashlight, Clark could see that she had a large duffle bag over her shoulder. Setting it down on the ground, she pulled out a set of bolt cutters. Within moments, she had clipped the lock off Clark’s cage.

He tried to scramble out, but found to his mortification that he couldn’t even stand anymore. Lillian, bless her heart, didn’t show an ounce of pity. She reached in and hauled Clark out. Since he was still unable to stand, she threw an arm around his shoulders and dragged him away.

“Gotta love lazy Betas,” she said. “I was able to get in here without even a glance from any of them.”

As much as Clark loved her, he couldn’t hate the fact that she didn’t sound the least bit winded. What made it all the worse was that she was an Omega too. If only it hadn’t been for that damn shot, then Clark would have been able to carry his own weight. Now, he was worried that he would end up slowing her down and getting them caught in the process. If that were to happen, Clark would never be able to forgive himself.

When they reached a clearing, Clark let out a small breath of relief. While they might have escaped the prison, they were still on pack lands. All the Alpha would have to do was send out his pack of Betas and Clark and Lillian would be toast. Damn, but it sucked to be the weak one.

Then when he made out the outline of a Pontiac GTO, he couldn’t hold back a gasp of shock. “Is that yours?”

“You bet your sweet ass it is. I rebuilt the thing myself. Of course I had to do it off pack lands, since cars are a big no-no.”

She opened the passenger door, the interior light finally giving Clark a good view of her. Her long, blonde hair was tucked into a baseball cap. Several tendrils had fallen and fanned her sweet as peaches complexion. Her blue eyes sparkled with pure mischief, which paired perfectly with the smudge of dirt on her pert nose.

“I wish we’d started hanging out sooner,” Clark exclaimed.

She grinned. “Well, we’re starting to now and the fun is just beginning.”

She slowly eased Clark into the car. Even so, he still moaned in pain several times. Once he was settled he curled up into the seat as Lillian got into the driver’s seat. Somehow, she was an image of sheer perfection as she sat there, all that steel under her command.

“Where are we going to now?” Clark asked.

“We need to get you to a doctor STAT.”

Oooookay, that wasn’t helpful at all. “Where? We can’t go to a human hospital. Even with the shot in my system, they’re still going to figure out that one of these things is different from the other. Don’t you dare say a vet, I may be at my lowest, but even I have my standards.”

She shook her head. “No, I have the perfect place in mind. We’re going someplace where you and I are both going to be safe.”

The Hunt Begins Out Now!

The Hunt Begins

Little Monsters Book 1

Sometimes the best things come in little packages.

A Well-Heeled Jack. Big Foot. Unicorn. Abominable Snowman. Brownie. All things that are not really true. Things that are made up by mad men or those who have spent way too much time in the woods alone. Right…or maybe not.

Meet Bronson, one of the last known Well-Heeled Jacks in existence. He’s been living in relative peace for the past few decades with a Unicorn and twins, one a Big Foot, the other an Abominable. Sure, their digs may not be the best, an abandoned Insane Asylum, but one has to see the irony in it. Then, one day, a certain Brownie sneaks himself into their lives. One named Nixon. Bronson immediately feels himself drawn to the other man.

Nixon has spent his life on the run, but not with Bronson. He feels safe and cared for. What’s more, Nixon feels a special connection to the other man. But, before they have time to react to their connection dark forces attack them. Will the pair live to see another day? If they do, will their desires lead to something more?

Excerpt:

Bronson went to his office. He needed to talk to his connections to see if there were any signs of paranormal activity anywhere. If it was near Bronson, it would be up to him and his team to go and investigate it, then eliminate it if need be.

As soon as he reached the threshold of the door, Bronson knew something was amiss. Usually, his office was a mess. There were papers, empty soda cans, overflowing trash bins, and general chaos, in short he was a bit of a slob. What met him at the moment was a perfectly cleaned room. All the papers were neatly stacked, the bins were empty, and there was no garbage to be found.

Bronson walked inside and ran his finger over the top of his desk. Gone was the sticky residue of spilled soda. Now the desk was so clean that one could sit on it without the fear of being stuck for life.

He sniffed the air and detected a scent that he hadn’t smelled in centuries. Bronson gave a slight shake of his head. No, it couldn’t be. They’d gone extinct years ago. Yet there was no denying what he was smelling.

“You can come out. I know who you are, and I promise that you’ll be safe,” Bronson called.

Alec’s Moon Out Now!

 Alec’s Moon

Wayne County Wolves Book 13

Sometimes the hardest thing to do is to look in the mirror and face who you truly are.

When Alec’s childhood pack is attacked, he is captured by slavers, then saved and taken in by Chris’s pack. While all the other survivors have no problem in adjusting to their new lives, Alec just can’t seem to let go of his previous life, so, Chris calls in physiatrists North and Michi for help.

From the moment Michi sees Alec, the Fox is immediately drawn to the Omega. The one problem is that Alec is Michi’s patient, so starting an intimate relationship is a huge no-no.

Will Michi be able to control his urges? Or will his desire for the Omega win out, making Michi risk everything?

 

Excerpt:

Alec had always had a habit of getting himself into a pickle here and there. After all, the Omega had never been one to use his best judgment. For example, there had been the time when he had streaked through the dwelling. It had been at meal time, too, so the whole pack had gotten a gander of him along with his twig and berries. But his cousin, Shadow, had dared Alec to do it, and Alec never backed down from a dare, no matter how bad it was or how damning the consequences might be.

Then there was the pesky business of the five cars that he had totaled, even though none of the accidents were his fault…well, maybe they were a little bit his fault. But one had to make mistakes in life in order to grow—right? Besides, who in their right mind would give any twenty-four year old the keys to a Jag and not expect him to test the handling capabilities on such a work of art? The fact that he zigged when he should have zagged, making him flip the car three times until it landed upside down, was only partially his fault. They should have known better than to let him even touch the car, let alone drive it at over one hundred miles an hour down I-75. The only reason that Alec had survived was because of his enhanced shifter’s body and the fact that the pack’s medic happened to be in the car behind him.

However, this instance took the cake. At least this time, it really wasn’t his fault. He had nothing to do with the fact that those stupid, fucking, psycho, hostile Wolves attacked his pack. Any more than he had any control of the fact that Clint, Alec’s now-dead pack leader, had been a shitty Alpha. Clint had sucked so bad that he shouldn’t have been put in charge of a Boy Scout troop—no, make that a Daisy Scout troop, let alone a pack of Wolves.

Even though there had been warnings that hostile packs were in the area, the idiot was so shitty as an Alpha that Clint’s only attempt to amp up the security system to the dwelling was to post fake ADT Alarm signs around the grounds. No joke. Clint had even bought them off eBay. It was so stupid that it bordered on unbelievable. Alec wouldn’t have believed it either if he hadn’t seen it for himself. He would have thought that it was some bullshit story somebody had made up or some ridiculous plotline in a movie. But nope, it wasn’t—that was his Alpha.

The one time that Alec had spoken up and suggested that maybe it would be a better idea to actually install a real system, Clint had snorted and told him that it was a waste of money and time. That comment hadn’t surprised Alec any, given that Clint had an overinflated ego and thought he was the toughest Wolf in the area. This was all despite the fact that Clint had never bothered to train his Betas. Instead, Clint thought it was more fun to sit on his ass all day and play video games while sending his Betas out forTaco Bell runs. Alec would even go so far as to classify Clint as a stoner, were it not for the fact that marijuana had no effect at all on shifters.

So, it came as no surprise that Clint couldn’t have been less prepared for the violent attack. Not that Alec really had room to talk. He didn’t even have time to put his pants on all the way before the Wolves got into the building. Before Alec could utter a fuck no, he found himself trussed up like a baby calf, and then they had thrown Alec to one side of the common room with some of the other captives.

That still hadn’t stopped Alec from seeing the massacre that followed. The members of his pack who weren’t captured were slaughtered. Three of the attackers descended upon Clint before he even had a chance to shift into his Wolf. As Alec watched in terror, they ripped Clint apart like he was nothing more than the scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz.

Alec had never been that close to Clint. The Alpha had made a point of only hanging out with his Betas and ignoring the Omegas of the pack. While Clint never really abused or mistreated his Omegas, he also never bothered to look in their direction, let alone take the time to learn their names. If it had not been for his parents and brother, Alec probably would have believed for years that his real name was Hey, you, Omega since that was the only way the rest of the pack addressed him.

Despite all that, Alec could feel his throat welling up as he watched his Alpha being treated so sadistically. Even with the sounds of the ongoing battle surrounding him, Alec could still make out the anguished cries from Clint. Then when the screaming ceased, Alec felt even worse. The damning silence announcing that Clint was dead and the Betas of the pack would soon follow.

Catnip and Hockey Sticks Out Now!

Catnip and Hockey Sticks

The most painful thing of all is to have what you want the most to be within you grasp, yet you are forbidden to touch it.

When the council names Hansen the Alpha of his Stray pack of Cat shifters, at first he is reluctant. His father, the former Alpha, hadn’t exactly been a good example, so Hansen feels as if he doesn’t have a clue. But to his surprise, he finds that he is actually good at the job, and he soon has a thriving pack. One of Hansen’s steadfast rules is that he never favors one member of the pack over the other. They are all treated as equals, and that plan works out perfectly, until Hansen finds a homeless runt who needs a home. One who is sexy, alluring and draws Hansen in—Nevel.

Nevel didn’t even know he was a Cat shifter until he first transformed into his animal form. Kicked out of his home, he drifts around until Hansen takes him home and gives him sanctuary. Before long, Nevel finds himself in love with the Alpha, but no matter how hard Nevel, tries Hansen won’t give Nevel the time of day.

Will Hansen ever take Nevel as his mate? Or will Nevel be destined to live the rest of his days with a broken heart?

Excerpt:

Damn it! The runt was missing yet again.

Hansen let out an aggravated sigh as he looked down at Nevel’s bed. While the same old zombie-themed bedding was there, there was no sign of the smartass, hotter than hell House Cat shifter. All that remained was a small dent in the pillow, messed up blankets, and the scent that Hansen had come to savor, the one that only Nevel carried. It was a sweet smell with just a small twist of muskiness, and every time Hansen inhaled it, he was filled with lust. Damned if it wasn’t going to be the death of Hansen, too. Because, the last thing he needed was to fall for a brat who had the penchant for not following rules and acting as if life was one big game and he was the starring player.

Not that Hansen could let anybody aware of his secret desire for Nevel. As leader of their small pack of Strays, Hansen always made a point of never showing favoritism. Call him crazy, but Hansen felt pretty sure that pinning down the smaller man, fucking him for hours, then claiming Nevel as his mate would be a very clear violation of that practice. Okay, maybe he wouldn’t go that far…yet. But, if he allowed the others to see all the sideways glances, the desire that lingered in his eyes, the way he was always overprotective of Nevel, Hansen knew that the cat would be out of the bag. So instead, Hansen did his best to hide his feelings…by avoiding them. If Nevel entered a room, Hansen would leave. Hansen took all his meals in his office. Whenever they all went out, Hansen made sure he was never in the same car as Nevel.  Hansen did just about anything so he didn’t have to spend any time around the runt. It was just too risky.

That still didn’t mean Hansen wasn’t going to leave ASAP to search for the runt. Hansen would do the same for any of his Strays—only he wouldn’t be full of terror that his heart pounded so hard it was a wonder the organ didn’t burst through his chest. Any more than he would be sweating so hard that he didn’t even have to worry about putting on his heavy down jacket to protect him against the cold Michigan weather.

Hansen tried to fool himself into thinking that his reaction was only due to the fact that Nevel was so much smaller than the rest of them. That it had nothing to do with his emotions, though. After all, if he ran into another Stray pack, Nevel wouldn’t stand a chance of getting away unscathed. In the end, Hansen came to the stark realization he was afraid because it was Nevel. Runt or not, Hansen cared deeply for the other man, and as such he couldn’t deny the strong urge to protect Nevel, to the point thatHansen would sacrifice himself if necessary in order to protect Nevel.

Spinning on his heels, Hansen rushed toward the front door. Unfortunately, he had to pass through the kitchen to get there. That would mean he would run into at least one of the others.  They were going to grill him like hell, too. After all, the phrase curiosity killed the cat didn’t come from nowhere. House Cats, shifter or not, could never keep their noses out of others’ business. Sometimes, Hansen felt like he was living with a house full of old ladies, instead of twenty-year olds.

Sure enough, Vince was at the stove. That wasn’t a big surprise. Even though the twenty-five year old shifter was as thin as a rail, he ate more than all of them combined. Vince turned around, his dark green eyes filled with confusion.

“Where are you going? Your shift at the bar doesn’t start for hours,” Vince asked, predictably.

“Since when has that been your business?” Hansen snapped harshly. He swore that he couldn’t even use the bathroom without the seven other members of his Stray pack knowing about it. Hell, they all probably gathered around the door and waited for him to get out. Hansen couldn’t be for certain, but he could have sworn that the Stray medic, Tyson, kept a record of Hansen’s bathroom habits. Tyson probably thought it was his duty as Hansen’s caregiver to do so. Hansen, on the other hand, found it annoying as hell.

Even so, as soon as the harsh words passed his lips, Hansen wanted to take them back. While Vince was as withdrawn as he used to be, he still was wary of others. Vince seemed to shrink back, his pale face stark against his dark hair.

A Holiday in Hell Out Now!

A Holiday in Hell

What are two guys going to do when they both hate the holidays? Run fast and don’t look back.

Fallon and Raven have been together for over a year now. The world has changed around them, and they fight daily to keep the world from ending. Now, it’s the holidays, and they are forced to share it with not only their flock but the Michigan flock as well. They’ll have to endure holiday dinner with the likes of Buzz while Sebastian and Wren try to get everyone to wear ugly holiday sweaters. What are two guys going to do when they both hate the holidays?

Authors’ Note: This holiday edition is out of timeline from future releases. Thank you.

 

Excerpt:

“Move!” Fallon turned and shoved Raven into the open path. They fought their way through just as a Jeep came screeching up into the open Detroit street. Sebastian was driving with his mate, Wren, in the passenger seat. They barely slowed down as Fallon shoved Raven into the open back, then rushed to get in behind him while the Jeep kept moving. With one more burst of effort, Fallon jumped, grabbing onto Raven’s hand, his feet still dragging until he gained purchase and pulled himself into the vehicle.

The Jeep swerved as it sped down the street.

“You could have slowed down!” Fallon shouted at Sebastian, who he looked at as a brother.

Sebastian hiked his thumb over his shoulder. “And let them join the ride? I don’t think so. Move your ass next time, and you won’t be dragged for a city block.”

Fallon turned and watched out the back window as a few of the remaining Blood Demons stared at their vehicle. Their lifeless eyes always chilled Fallon. It had been a year since the world had turned upside down. Nothing would ever be the same. Sure, some areas still were uninhabited by Blood Demons, but for how long? Most of the major cities had been taken over. The good news was that Fallon’s death army along with the military was keeping them contained to the cities.

There was no more secrecy or hiding in the night. They fought in broad daylight now. The world really had changed in the last year, and everyone was having to adapt, even those who lived in areas not yet affected.

Raven sidled up next to him and began to check him out. “What are you doing?” Fallon asked in confusion.

“You’re hurt, dammit!” Raven poked at a sore spot on his cheekbone.

“Stop! Fuck, that hurts.” Fallon grabbed his lover’s hand and pulled it from his face. He turned the tables on Raven and began checking out his wounds. They had been cornered, and Raven had taken a few kicks and punches. Raven had a cut above his eyes, and his knuckles were bloody but appeared to be in one piece. Thank fuck.

“Fallon, stop it. This is so…unlike you. You’re scaring me more than the swarm of Blood Demons back there.” Raven pushed his hands out of the way.

“What?” Fallon glared at Raven.

“Knock it off and come here.” Raven pulled Fallon in for a deep kiss. Okay, so he wasn’t known for his nursing skills. He was more the kind to bulldoze his way into getting what he wanted, and he wanted Raven.

Now this was more like it. Fallon palmed the back of Raven’s head and took over the kiss. The wind blowing around them from the open windows as they kissed grew in strength. Their tongues dueled, and Fallon’s hand began smoothing down Raven’s damp body. Damn, his man had fought hard.

There was a slight cough from the front seat, and Fallon used his other hand to flip off Wren. Laughter came as a response as Raven straddled him.

“Guys, guys, we’re about to hit the blockade. I’m sure the death army wouldn’t want to see you two fucking in the backseat.” Sebastian yelled.

Fallon was pretty sure they wouldn’t care. As their leader, he did what he wanted, especially when it came to his mate. Hell, they were happy to see him mated to someone.

The Jeep slowed, and with reluctance, Fallon pulled away from the kiss. Raven ground their cloth-covered cocks together one more time before he went to slide off.

Fallon grabbed onto his ass. “Stay here.”

Passion Under Fire (An Unconventional Chicago book) out now!

 Passion Under Fire

This story has been previously released as part of the An Unconventional Chicago anthology by Totally Bound Publishing.

Can their love overcome the danger coming their way, or are they doomed to die?

Georgio is the third son in a powerful mob family, but he has never agreed with their violent or illegal ways, so he joins the resistance in an attempt to right the wrongs that his family has done. But, by doing so, he puts himself at great risk of getting caught. And if he is, his older brothers would have no problem ordering him executed, their sibling or not.

Tito is a runner for the family. While he hates the gang, he has a sick brother at home to take care of, so he has to take the job because it pays so well. The last thing Tito expects is to form an attachment to Georgio.

While Georgio tries to deny his feelings for Tito, he finds himself drawn to him as well. But, if they were to be caught together, they could be killed on the spot. Will their love be able to survive so many obstacles? Or can they find a way to happiness?

Excerpt:

Smack! The sound of flesh hitting flesh reverberated through the large office. Georgio barely held back a wince as he watched one of his good friends and closest allies, Dirk, take another blow from one of his brothers’ enforcers. They had him on his knees right in front of Georgio’s brothers’ desks. They were both watching the show with cold smiles on their faces, their dark eyes intense as if they didn’t want to miss a moment of the action.

As it was, Dirk was already bleeding from his now crooked nose, he had a split lip and his eyes were beginning to swell. It wouldn’t take long before they expanded so much that Dirk wouldn’t be able to see at all.

Thud! This time the blow hit Dirk on the jaw and sent him reeling to the side. Were it not for the two men holding him up, Dirk would surely have fallen to the floor. Georgio gritted his teeth together as rage boiled through him. At the same time, he held tight onto the arms of his chair. If his brothers really knew how close he and Dirk were, then things could get even worse.

The funny thing was, while Dirk and Georgio were both gay, they were far from being a couple. Sure, they had fooled around a few times. Every encounter had been awkward and unfulfilling for the both of them. So in the end they had decided that they made much better friends than lovers. Still, if Georgio’s brothers were to catch wind of just how tight he and Dirk were, Georgio knew it would send them into a rage. They already suspected that Georgio was gay—this would be the fuel they needed to add to their great big gay fire. They were just looking for a way to confirm that Georgio was indeed gay. Then they would have a legitimate reason to off Georgio without pissing off the rest of the family members.

Whack! Yet another blow, this one hitting the side of Dirk’s jaw. His blue eyes rolled into the back of his head, but he somehow managed to stay conscious. More blood began to run, mixing in with his blond hair.

What was Dirk’s sin? The fucking irony of it all was that Dirk hadn’t done a damn thing. It had been Dirk’s youngest sister who had committed the transgression, and boy, was it a doozy. She had done something so dangerous that it had earned her a kill-on-sight order. She had joined the rebellion group that was determined to overthrow the gangs that ruled Chicago. But she was buried so far underground that the leaders of their gang, Georgio’s older twin brothers, couldn’t find her. They had decided to take out their frustration on the poor enforcer.

Georgio had to give big kudos to his friend—Dirk was taking the beating like a man. While he let out an occasional grunt, he never cried out. He never begged for mercy either. But that was Dirk, he was as stubborn as a mule and he would never give Michael or Luciano that satisfaction. He hated Georgio’s brothers just as much as Georgio did. The only reason he worked for the twins was because it had kept his family safe…until now. That had all changed. Dirk would still be forced to work for the twins because Georgio knew that they would want to keep close tabs on him. Meanwhile, the rest of his family would be in trouble as well. Any one of them could disappear, and there was nothing that Georgio or Dirk could do about it. Damn it, life really sucked sometimes. The ironic thing was that Georgio didn’t blame Dirk’s sister. He just wished that he had the courage to do the same thing. He would love nothing more than to bring down his brothers and put an end to their tyranny.

Lifting the Veil (a note from Stephani)

Some of you may have wondered why I’ve been having to move back release dates and why I haven’t had as many books coming out as usual. I always replied with the same answer, that I’ve been sick or in the hospital.

That was true, but I never share the reasons for my hospital stays, other than when I had my gallbladder out. That one was true and I don’t care what people say about how it’s such an easy surgery. It hurt like hell and threw me for a loop for a while.

Now is the time where I’m going to lay it all out and share with you one of my biggest secrets. All the other reasons I’ve been in the hospital was because I was having mental health issues. I tried to hide from it, tried to ignore it, but late one night it finally exploded in my face. So, I went to my bedroom, woke up my husband and told him that he needed to take me the ER.

While I was there the doctor if I had any thoughts about self-harming to myself. Although, to be fair, I don’t think it’s fair for a doctor to ask writers that question. We all know that we have the idea of what would be the perfect murder, the perfect jewel heist, bank robbery….

Well as soon as I opened my yap off to the mental hospital I went. Let me tell you, those places are not fun at all. You do have some great staff, but there are plenty who are lazy and just go through the motions. It was my stays at these hospitals that inspires me to write Pretty Little Word in a Bottle.

When Robin Williams died, there were so many people called him a coward and being selfish for leaving his family behind. What they don’t realize is severe depression has a nasty habit of slithering through your mind and making you believe and think things that aren’t even remotely true.

I should know because I suffer from severe depression, anxiety panic disorder. It’s to the point that I have trouble being out of my house at times. Malls, movie theaters and other places where large groups of people gather can send me into a severe panic attack. Sometimes, I even go into an attack if I lose an article of clothing and can’t find it. In other words, the simplest of things could make it so I have a very bad day.

There was one acceptation, however. To my surprise I found that the only crowd I can stand is the one from GRL I’ve been friends with some of our wonderful group for several years. I, also, that you would all make a point of being there for me.

There are days where the depression kicks into high gear and all I can do is stay in bed and watch TV all day. Very often it will make my fibro act up and ever bone in my body will ache and set off my migraines. All of which had made writing a near impossible act.

I’m not telling you all this, so you’ll feel sorry for me. It was because of a conversation that took place at a convention.  There was a writer who was talking about her latest release. She treated the male MC in her book with contempt because he had tried to commit suicide with his gun. Instead of dying, though, he lived, because, “he can never get anything right.” The comments left me so numb with shock that I didn’t even bother to tell that if he shot himself in the direction and in the position that she described, that there was no way the MC would have survived. I didn’t even manage to get out that one of my uncles had committed suicide and I still am very sensitive about the issue. I loved my uncle dearly and he was neither a coward or just seeking attention. He had just been so overcome by his disease that it had finally overpowered him, making him do something that never would have considered had he been in a stable state of mind.

People fail to realize that depression has a way of hunting you. Even though one can feel it coming, there is nowhere to hide or no way of avoiding it. I often liken severe depression to a parasite that makes you a prisoner in your own body. Once it gets inside you, it branches out through your brain, making you think things that are totally untrue and irrational. In short, it changes who you really are and makes you a totally different person.

After I cooled down a bit I decided that I would educate people a little bit. Maybe if I do so, it will be one tiny step in making the subject of mental illness less taboo or at the very least, help others more understanding.

Depression is a disease, just like diabetes, asthma or even a common cold. It’s not contagious, it’s usually passed genetically. It’s a chemical imbalance in your brain and there is not one magic pill that will cure you. Each person is different, so the doctors have to spend months, if not years, finding out what combination of pills will make you stable.
You don’t have to be sad to have depression. I know that may sound weird, but it’s true. I have a comfortable life. Great, family and great kids. Yet, while I may be smiling on the outside on the inside I am suffering.
Which brings me to another point. Even though I have this condition it doesn’t make me a coward or weak. It just adds some road bumps in my life here and there.

I have heard people describe how depression feels like to them in several different ways. However, there is a music video that I feels really shows how it is to live with depression. It’s in such an obscure way that many who have seen it misses the message, but it’s there if you look closely enough. I’ve posted this song on my FB page many times. Now that you’re all in on my secret, you’ll know why.