Showing posts with label Book Two. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Book Two. Show all posts

Thursday, June 01, 2017

Writing the Wolf by Steffanie Holmes




Writing the Wolf
Wolves of Crookshollow
Book Two
Steffanie Holmes

Genre: paranormal romance, shifters

Publisher: Bacchanalia House

Date of Publication: May 18, 2017

ASIN: B06W58YNT6

Word Count: 70k

Cover Artist: Aria at Resplendant Covers

Tagline: Rosa just wants to be left alone to write her book, but when werewolves attempt to kidnap her, she realizes her neighbor Caleb is the only one who can protect her. But Caleb is hiding a secret of his own … fur and sparks fly in this hot paranormal romance from USA Today bestselling author Steffanie Holmes.

Book Description:

Sink your teeth into the hot new werewolf paranormal romance from USA Today bestselling author, Steffanie Holmes!

Rosa

I need to escape.

After those racist bastards destroyed my home, I can’t face the world again.
I’ve rented a cabin in the heart of the Crookshollow forest. I’m going to lock myself away and work on my book. I’m going to write my story.

And I absolutely, positively WILL NOT think about Caleb, the hunky labourer who’s fixing up my cabin.

No way.

I won’t think about the way his eyes melt my heart, and his smile melts my panties.
I’m too emotionally raw right now. I can’t handle a fling, especially not with a white guy.

Especially not a guy like him. A guy who shags and leaves. I can’t handle any more heartache.

Caleb

Rosa Parker – clever writer, black woman, total hottie.

The connection between us sizzles – there’s no denying it: this woman is my mate.

When I’m near her, all I want to do is claim her.

If only I wasn’t the biggest threat to her life right now.

With a rogue wolf pack after my hide, I can’t afford a distraction. Even a distraction as alluring as her.

I need to keep my wolfish instincts in check.

But I can’t help myself.

Rosa Parker has got under my skin.

And I won’t stop until I’ve made her mine.

Writing the Wolf is a standalone novel with an HEA. It’s the second book in the hot new paranormal romance series by USA Today bestselling author Steffanie Holmes. Read on if you love spunky heroines, pack politics, and a hero so hot he’ll have you howling for more.

Amazon      BN      iBooks      Kobo      Google Play


Excerpt 2


Rosa stalked through the forest ahead of me, deliberately averting her gaze from my naked body. I wanted to make a joke about it, but judging by the set expression on her face, I knew it wasn’t the best time.

When Rosa reached the cabin, she stomped across the porch, unlocked the door, walked inside and slammed the door shut behind her. I stopped myself before I slammed my face against the glass panel.

“Hey,” I rapped against the window beside the door. “I’m still out here.”

“I know that. Say what you need to say to me through the door,” Rosa moved toward the kitchen, and started slamming her groceries down on the bench. Her hands were still shaking. “I’m not having you inside, not when you could turn into one of them.”

“Could you at least throw me a towel or something? It’s a little nippy out here and I’m afraid I’m not showing you my best angle.”

The corners of Rosa’s mouth tugged upward a little, but she didn’t crack that gorgeous smile for me. She balled up the red duvet she’d spread over the bed, and shoved it through the door to me, slamming it shut behind her before I could get an arm through the gap.

I wrapped the duvet around my lower half, knotting the ends together. “Not quite the kilt I’m used to, but it’s something.”

“Don’t try to be funny, Caleb. This is serious. You’re a werewolf. I was just attacked by two other werewolves. The werewolves that attacked me today – they’re your stepbrothers, and they are after me to get to you for some reason that I’m sure to regret learning.”

“That’s an astute summary of the situation.”

“I’m going to need more, Caleb. I’m going to need the full story.” She slammed the kettle down on the stove, and turned on the gas.

“It’s a pretty long story.”

Rosa held up her cup and waved it at me. She folded her arms and leaned against the bench, one hip jutting out suggestively. “I’m listening.”


About the Author:

Steffanie Holmes is a USA Today bestselling author of dark and steamy paranormal romance. Her books feature clever, witty heroines, wild shifters, cunning witches and alpha males who get what they want.

Before becoming a writer, Steffanie worked as an archaeologist and museum curator. She loves to explore historical settings and ancient conceptions of love and possession. From Dark Age Europe to crumbling gothic estates, Steffanie is fascinated with how love can blossom between the most unlikely characters.

Steffanie lives in New Zealand with her husband and a horde of cantankerous cats. Learn more about Steffanie at her website: www.steffanieholmes.com. She also writes dark science fiction under the name S C Green.

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Monday, May 22, 2017

Would The Real Howie Watt Please Stand Up! - Broken Angel by Amanda Jones





Anyone who’s read the ARC version of Broken Angel has met our new friend, Chief of Surgery Howard (Howie) Watt.  What you don’t know is he’s very real (the Howie part, not the surgeon part), and a very dear friend of mine.  So, I figure I’ll take this opportunity to introduce you all to my favourite Howie shaped human!Now he’s agreed to let me use my discretion in selecting a photo from his Facebook page to share in this blog posting – with a few restrictions: not the one where he’s wearing moose antlers, not the one where someone photoshopped a top hat and cane on him, and not the one with him photoshopped as Spiderman…but aside from that I had free license! Like his character in Broken Angel, Howie’s got that infectiously fun personality that draws people in.  He’s always there for his friends (oftentimes going waaaay above and beyond for them), and is my go-to person for sharing dirty jokes.  

The heroes of our book can’t help but have a soft spot for the guy too!  He recently celebrated a birthday, and wasn’t afraid to put on a bumblebee hat (with feelers), play with Nerf bow and arrows, and crawl through obstacle courses a la (Catherine Zeta Jones in the laser field in Entrapment) with his employees.  

His birthday cake may have featured images of his head photoshopped onto the bodies of a variety of gentlemen in sparkly budgie smugglers…which he found hilarious!

So let’s raise a glass to the REAL Howie Watt!  Thank you for supporting me through my writing journey.  

PS. Please do me a favour and stalk him on Twitter – it’ll be fun!  @howie_watt   happy hunting!!!  

Broken Angel
The Fallen Chronicles
Book Two
Amanda Jones

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Publisher: New Concepts Publishing

Cover Artist:  Jenny Dixon

Tagline: Dancing with the Devil…

Book Description:

Mara is a beautiful and talented surgeon with everything going for her…at least on the surface.  She has a dark secret she has kept buried for centuries.

Bataryal is a fallen angel broken beyond repair…or so it seems.

Will the beautiful surgeon who saved his life also be able to redeem him, or will Bataryal’s damaged soul lead them both into the depths of Hell…

Excerpt 1

Before she could react, B sat up and grabbed her with his freshly set hand, drawing her face towards his.  He felt his heart leap as their lips touched ever so gently at first.  He’d dreamed of kissing her since the first time he’d laid eyes on her, and could only hope that the feelings she’d admitted to were true.  Her lips moved softly upon his, her tongue darting out to lick along the line of his lips.  B opened his mouth and let her in, their tongues sliding together sensually as his body came to life.  It was a feeling he thought he’d never fully experience, the blood pounding in his veins, his heart jumping in his chest.  Mara’s arms came up to circle him, one around his back, the other sliding up his neck, her nails raking along his scalp near the nape of his neck.  The tiny shivers from her sharp little nails were more erotic than any sexual experience he’d ever had.  B’s heart felt like it was soaring free.  Maybe there really could be a happy ending for him.


Dark Angel
The Fallen Chronicles 
Book 1
Amanda Jones

Genre: Paranormal/Fantasy Romance

Publisher: New Concepts Publishing

Date of Publication: March 29, 2017

ISBN: 978-1-60394-970-5

Number of pages: 141 
Word Count: 81,321

Cover Artist: Jenny Dixon

Tagline: With this fallen angel it never felt so good to be bad!

Book Description: 

Katia may be a celebrated musician, but she'd always felt a little like an outsider looking in. Who knew that being abducted by a handsome stranger would set her on a crash course with her destiny...

Luc has spent an eternity keeping everyone and everything at a distance as an unstoppable darkness consumes his soul. Will his beautiful captive be his salvation, or will they both be consumed by the ultimate evil...




New Concepts Publishing          Amazon

Excerpt:


As Katia smiled back at Sergei, she noticed that the stranger at the neighbouring table was watching her again.  She did a half turn and reached down as though she were looking for something in her purse, angling herself towards him.  Taking a deep breath, she looked up and found her eyes locked on his.  There was something riveting about him, but she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was.  Perhaps it was the sum total of everything that made her unable to tear her eyes away.  He looked like he had been carved from a piece of marble.  His skin was pale and perfect, not a single freckle, scar, line, or wrinkle.  Calvin Klein models had nothing on this guy, with his defined jaw, and full lips that were just begging for a kiss.  His hair was a tumbling mass of waves the colour of the sun, his eyes were the most unusual grey Katia had ever seen, like storm clouds.  He also had the longest eyelashes she’d ever seen; women paid good money to get lashes like that.  He truly had the face of an angel, like something you’d see on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.  At odds with his angelic look was the black leather motorcycle jacket, black jeans, and black combat boots.  There was also something off in his expression, something hard about the way he was looking at her, like she had somehow ruined his day without her knowledge. 

About the Author: 


Add caption
Amanda Jones lives in Toronto with her exceptionally spoiled pets.  Aside from sharing her crazy imagination with others through her books Amanda enjoys travelling and frequent Netflix binges.  Amanda has worked in several fields including sports, music, film, corporate human resources, and is a graduate of York University and Sheridan College.

Website: www.amandajonesauthor.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/darkangelauthor/

Twitter: @AmandaLJ1981 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14761429.Amanda_Jones


Amazon Author Central: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0196WYYRW

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Tuesday, April 04, 2017

Duma’s Top 10 Cars and Bikes - Chaos Unbound by Brian S. Leon



Duma’s Top 10 Cars and Bikes


In the world of the Metis Files, Duma collects many things. Among them are valuable cars and motorcycles. No one know how many he owns or what vehicles are in his collection, but the ones Diomedes has seen number over two hundred. 

Some are more mainstream, like his custom Mercedes G500 and his custom Land Rover, but others are more exotic and some are even unique. This is a small sampling of his more interesting vehicles. 

I have a longer list on my pintrest board at https://www.pinterest.com/bsleonauthor/dumas-cars-and-bikes/


1. 1932 Auto Union Type A. Value unknown. 
Speculated that this one vehicle may be the most valuable car in existence. 



2. 1957 Maserati 250S. $4-5 Million 


3. 1958 Ferrari 250TR. $23 million 


4. 1966 Jaguar XJ13. $15 million 


5. Aston Martin One-77. $2-3 Million


6. Lamborghini Sesto Elemento. $3 million 


7. Lykan Hypersport. $3.4 million 


8. Zeus 12 Sigma. $2-3 million 


9. Confederate P51 Combat Fighter. $115K 


10. Custom Porsche-built Motorcycle. Value Undisclosed 


Chaos Unbound
The Metis Files
Book Two
Brian S. Leon

Genre: Urban Fantasy

Publisher: Red Adept Publishing

Date of Publication: 2/28/17

ISBN: 978-1-940215-83-9
ASIN: B06VSX4BKP

Number of pages: 356
Word Count: 122000

Cover Artist: Streetlight Graphics

Tagline: On the Run. On the Hunt.

Book Description:

The hunter becomes the hunted.

Framed for the murder of a high ranking member of the Unseelie Court of Fae, Steve Dore–also known as Diomedes, Guardian and protector of mankind–goes on the run. He’s determined to uncover the real culprit and clear his name.

But the assassination may be the beginning of a more sinister plot that involves not just the Fae and Humankind, but all the races of the world. And what if the real assassin is a boogeyman even the Fae don't believe is real?



Excerpt:
Chapter 1
San Diego, September 2011
Selkies. Thirty-five miles offshore in the Pacific Ocean, and I’m dodging freakin’ selkies in my fishing boat. It’s like they’re seagulls, and I’m dropping French fries at the beach. Man do they screw up the fishing. Worse, when they appear, bad things tend to follow. And it’s just my luck. Of all fae to show up randomly, it had to be these shapeshifters—the kind that could transform into seals and even into sea lions, which scare the crap out of the fish. Every pile of floating kelp we’d fished around so far had one of these fairies under it. Every kelp except the paddy right in front of the boat.
“Captain Dore, look! Another seal,” the woman said, reaching for her camera.
And that selkie made it a perfect five for five.
I couldn’t help but hang my head. My clients—a simple Midwestern family of Mom, Dad, and Teenage Son—considered it endearing to see a seal poke its head up from inside the kelp, but I could see their true bulbous heads, seaweed-like hair, and pudgy gray-green humanoid forms. Their giant, shiny-black eyes fixed on me as if they knew exactly who I was.
The creepy shapeshifters were part of the Unseelie Court—fairies that are decidedly unfriendly to humans—and the fact that we kept encountering them was starting to unnerve me. Encountering one in the Pacific was rare. In fact, I couldn’t recall one off Southern California since an entire tribe of them showed up around Catalina Island in the 1980s. That appearance had led to a spate of unidentified submerged object and alien sightings, not to mention a few mysterious plane crashes around the island and a heap of sunken boats.
“Hey what’s that big fin?” the father asked, pointing at the rapidly approaching triangular object sticking out of the water and heading straight at the paddy from the opposite side.
“Shark,” I said with a sudden smile. “Damn big one, too. Great white, from the looks of it. Rare for us down here in San Diego.”
“Oh, swim, seal! Swim!” the mom said as all hell broke loose around the paddy.
“Wow, really,” the kid said. “It’s like a real National Geographic moment.” He whipped out his phone to video the event.
I was the only one on the boat rooting for the shark. If they’d known what that shark was really chasing, they probably would have thought it was more like a National Enquirer moment.
Knowing the selkie-shark conflict would ruin the fishing within a mile of that paddy, I pushed farther out, always on the lookout for signs of life other than selkies. As long as we could avoid them, we found lots of small football-sized yellowfin tuna while we trolled, and I’d even managed to convince the anglers to release the little guys, in hopes of finding bigger ones. The small fish kept me blissfully busy until we made it back to the dock at around four in the afternoon—so busy, in fact, that I forgot about how screwy the presence of selkies was until I realized my buddy Ned was storming down the dock toward my boat as I pulled in.
As usual, Ned was dressed in a Hawaiian shirt with colors usually reserved for Las Vegas neon. The fact that he resembled a derelict version of Santa Claus usually drew people’s attention. It was either that or the fact that he always smelled like beer-soaked seaweed washed up on a beach. It could be worse given that Ned was in fact the Titan God of the Sea, Nereus, in self-imposed exile.
As I secured the boat to the dock, my cellphone, stashed inside my captain’s bag within the console, chirped the unique ring my buddy Geek had helped me assign to Sarah Wright. I felt guilty for avoiding her over the past two weeks. Despite scrambling to reach the annoying device before the call went to voice mail, I wasn’t quick enough. I tossed the phone on the console, thoroughly disgusted with my wishy-washy-ness regarding our relationship—or whatever we had. I was pretty sure we both wanted to take things to the next level, but I was conflicted about what that would mean for both of us since my situation wasn’t exactly normal.
I’ll call her back as soon as I can. I sighed, watching my three clients stumble off the boat, trying to adjust to sea legs on land after a full day on the water. They chatted excitedly about sharks and sea lions as they went. Ned stood down the dock, waiting, staring intently at me with his hands on his hips and one flip-flop-clad foot tapping away. The trio barely managed to get past him before he charged the boat.
“Diomedes, dude, glad to see you made it back okay.” Ned’s shoulders dropped a bit as he exhaled heavily. “Now get yer ass off the damn boat and back onto land.” He dipped his head slightly and glared over his sunglasses at me, his brow deeply furrowed.
I stopped taking rods out of the rod racks under the gunwales and stared back at him. Something had him on edge, and that was saying something. Normally, he made people on Prozac appear edgy. In over a thousand years, I’d never seen him like this before.
“Now, dude. Now!” he said, raising his voice and gesticulating wildly.
The myriad of seagulls and pelicans gathered around the boat awaiting leftover bait and fish carcasses took off in a sudden deafening and chaotic commotion.
“Whoa. Relax, Ned. What’s got your panties in a bunch?” I said, getting back to my after-charter chores. “Sheesh. Besides, I think the dad left a few beers if you want them.”
Normally, Ned’s first question to me would have involved the possible presence of abandoned beer. Instead, he fixed me with a withering stare. His hands were back on his hips, and his foot again tapped on the dock. When we’d first met a few thousand years before, he’d naturally emanated an aura of power. Though he’d since willingly given up most of his other-dimensional essence, the preternatural blue glow was now visible.
“Dude, which part of ‘now’ ain’t you understandin’?” He spoke through a clenched jaw and pointed at the dock forcefully, like a parent demanding a child’s immediate presence. Over his sunglasses, his eyes darted everywhere, keeping watch around us.
“Okay, okay,” I said, eyeing my fish-slimed gear and all the sardine scales and scuff marks marring the deck. “Who’s gonna clean all this up? You know if I let it sit, it’ll be even harder to clean later.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Ned replied. “Just get yer ass off the water. Right. Now.”
“Fine.” I kicked at my rods like a petulant child. “Let me get my damn gear bag, and I’ll leave.”
I grabbed my captain’s bag and stormed down the dock in a huff, glaring at Ned. I didn’t even bother to take off my grungy gray rubber fishing bibs. He avoided making eye contact as I passed him, which only pissed me off more. Instead, his eyes continued to dart around the marina. Whatever.
I got to my truck, threw my gear bag in the bed, then stripped off the rubber bibs. While hopping around on one leg like an idiot, trying to get the bibs off over my deck boots, I worked myself up from a huff to a tizzy. Who the hell did he think he was ordering me around like that? Athena? Throwing my bibs into the bed with the rest, I glanced over my shoulder, toward the dock.
Just as I was about to get into my truck, a more pressing question hit me: Why? Ned actually yelled at me. In over two millennia, I had never even witnessed him raise his voice. What’d I do to him?
I instantly felt like I owed him an apology, without even knowing what I’d done. I headed back down to the dock.
As I approached the top of the gangway, Ned was in a heated discussion with something in the water on the other side of the dock from my boat. I couldn’t get a clear view of who or what Ned was talking with, or hear what was being said. The only things evident were the loud and freakish sea lion-like barks and Ned’s wild and very uncharacteristic gesticulations. Instinctively, I searched for something to use as a weapon—a boat hook was leaning against the fence next to the gate down to the dock.
Then a putty-colored round female head covered in thick yellow-green hair popped up just above the dock and peered directly at me. Ned noticed me, as well, and all at once, the creature disappeared below the water’s surface creating a wake that tossed the floating dock and rocked the boats tied up nearby. She was definitely one of the selkies I had encountered earlier offshore.
I stopped dead in my tracks. Ned shook his head and stomped toward me, which couldn’t have been easy in flip-flops. His eyes were ablaze—literally. His awakened aura pulsed from white to blue like a lightning storm.
I shrugged and raised my eyebrows as his gaze fell on me. The temperature began to drop, and the water around the dock changed from a drab green to black and turned rough, as if it were about to boil. The disturbance bounced the moored boats against their bumpers and the dock, and the rigging on the sailboats began to clang. Even the remaining birds evacuated—only noiselessly.
“Boy, who did you piss off this time?” he said at me more than to me in a voice that reverberated through my skull. It wasn’t loud, but it was insistent in its tone.
“I… um… I, ah… what?” I asked, vapor trailing from my mouth in the cool air.
I couldn’t recall having done anything to anybody since chasing down that witch, Medea, a few months back, and as far as I knew, everyone I could have pissed off doing that was dead.
Ned continued up the ramp from the dock toward me, somehow appearing larger than normal. His face, especially his eyes, darkened. “Don’t play games with me. You got selkies chasin’ yer ass all over the Pacific, and they had to travel around the world to get here to do it. Nytrocyon herself is here to find you.” He pointed back down toward my boat. “She says Mab wants you. Says you killed Lord Indronivay.”
“Nytrocyon, ruler of the selkies? Seriously?” My teeth started to chatter, and my jaw muscles clenched in the frigid air. “Wait… she said I killed who? Lord Indronivay, Mab’s warmaster? Are you kidding me? Why the hell would I have killed that uptight belligerent asshole?”
I’d never even met him, but his reputation as a jerk was legendary. Even as a Guardian and protector of humanity, I knew him only through stories that suggested he was a giant at nearly eight feet tall and was about as friendly as a shark with a toothache. All I really knew about him was that he personally ran every major war and military campaign Queen Mab of the Unseelie Court had waged for tens of thousands of years. Hell, the guy might have charged into battle against Queen Titania of the Seelie Court on the back of a triceratops.
“You’re sayin’ Nytrocyon is lying?” Ned’s voice boomed through my head, shaking me back to attention.
I shrugged again. “Now why the hell would I do something like that? Honestly?”

Ned’s shoulders dropped slightly, and his pulsing aura faded. Though his face brightened and his bushy beard and mustache split, revealing his white teeth in a broad smile, the rest of him remained rigid. “Good. I didn’t think you were dumb enough to attack a member of one of the fairy royal courts. That’d be grounds for war. Only problem is then, dude”—he slowly slipped back into his normal relaxed and carefree persona—“you gotta ask yerself one question: why does she think you did?”


About the Author:

Brian S. Leon is truly a jack of all trades and a master of none. He writes just to do something with all the useless degrees and skills he’s accumulated over the years. Most of them have no practical application in civilized society, anyway. His interests include mythology and fishing, in pursuit of which he has explored jungles and museums, oceans and seas all over the world.

His credentials include an undergraduate degree from the University of Miami and a master’s degree from San Diego State University, plus extensive postgraduate work in evolutionary biology at the University of Massachusetts Amherst, where he studied animals most people aren’t even aware exist and theories no one really cares about anyway.

Over his varied career, Brian’s articles have been published in academic journals and popular magazines that most normal people would never read. They can be found in The American Society of Primatologists, the American Journal of Physical Anthropology, Proceedings of the American Association of Zoos and Aquariums and the like.

His more mainstream work came as an editor for Marlin and FlyFishing in Salt Waters magazines, where he published articles about fishing and fishing techniques around the world. He won a Charlie Award in 2004 from the Florida Magazine Association for Best Editorial, and several of his photographs have appeared on a number of magazine covers—almost an achievement of note, if they weren’t all fishing magazines.

Always a picky reader, Mr. Leon enjoys stories by classical masters like Homer and Jules Verne as well as modern writers like J.R.R. Tolkien, David Morrell and Jim Butcher. These books, in combination with an inordinate amount of free time, inspired him to come up with tales of his own.

Brian currently resides in San Diego, California.



Twitter: @bslauthor


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Friday, February 03, 2017

Guest Blog - Ancient Ties by Marie Johnston




For many writers, naming characters can be one of our favorite parts of the process. I use the “whatever pops in my head and feels right” system, with the backup of “google it.” For some parents, there’s also the chance to use the name our partner wouldn’t agree on, or the other gender name we had picked. I l-o-v-e-d the boy’s name we chose for our fourth and final child. We had a girl. But Rhys Walker was too good not to use! (Walker would’ve been the middle name.) Rhys became the name of the leader of the West Creek Guardians in my paranormal world. Walker is the last name of the family of five cousins I’m writing a contemporary romance series about and releasing at the end of the year. Hmmm…Rhys Walker might have to be another cousin… 

The heroine in Ancient Ties, Kaitlyn, shows up in the first book of my first series and her name just came to me. I didn’t know what her role would be at the time, but her feminine name fit her model-like looks. Throughout the series, she’d pop up and I often wondered if her name fit her. Kaitlyn’s a lovely name—and very human. However, the character discovered she was not, in fact, human.

In Ancient Ties, I got to know Kaitlyn beyond her shopping habit, competence in the field, and fierce loyalty to her BFF. Her name fits her perfectly. She retains so much of her humanity. She’s fierce, courageous, and loves to buy stuff for her friends. Her hair might always be in a braid, but she doesn’t need clothing or hair styles to feel like a natural woman—who happens to change into wolf.

As for Chayton, his was googled. He first appears in Birthright and I knew he was Kaitlyn’s mate. I knew he was Native American. I knew he was a proud male and had high expectations of everyone around him. But I didn’t know his name. I narrowed down his heritage to Sioux and looked up names. Chayton stood out right away and means eagle, which also seemed fitting for his last name. And more importantly, Chayton Eagle felt right.

Funny how a character’s name clicks and it’s their name. I couldn’t imagine renaming any of my characters. Main characters that is. Secondary characters or ones with bit parts aren’t as set in stone. If their name hits me and I think, dang, that’s a good naming, then it’s a clue for me that they’re a future main character.

Ancient Ties
Pale Moonlight
Book Two
Marie Johnston

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Date of Publication: 1/27/17

ISBN: 9781370775347
ASIN: B01MFEATE2

Number of pages: 220
Word Count: 59000

Cover Artist: P and N Graphics

Book Description:

Born to be Guardians…

Chayton Eagle comes from a strong line of wolf shifters, his father an ancient in their pack. Chayton proudly acts as a Guardian, defending the colonies from danger—both from outsiders and from threats inside the pack. The one thing he doesn’t need is a human-raised female on his team—especially not one who passes out each time she shifts! Never mind that she was trained by elite Guardians, Chayton doesn’t need the distraction of a tall, sexy-as-hell redhead when he’s working. He has to focus. And he has to remember he’s scheduled to take the blood oath with a female, a long-ago pairing arranged by her parents. It doesn’t matter he and Kaitlyn are fated mates.

She can’t be his. Not now. Not ever.

Destined to be Mates.

Kaitlyn Savoy knows Chayton is supposed to be her mate. Too bad he’s such an ass about her human upbringing making her weak. Too bad she’s been assigned as his partner to take down the feral shifters threatening one of the colonies. Too bad she’s so damn attracted to him. As the mission continues, Chayton is captured by the ferals, and Kaitlyn proves her worth as a Guardian. During the rescue, she uncovers the secrets of her past, secrets that will affect her future. Despite his best efforts, Chayton’s opinion of her begins to change, his respect growing—along with feelings he can’t deny. She’s become part of his life, part of his heart. A fact his soon-to-be inlaws notice—and they intend to put an end to the temptation Kaitlyn poses to Chayton.


No matter what.

Amazon        BN         Kobo


Excerpt:

Chayton stormed to his cabin.
A four hour drive. With Kaitlyn.
Spending the night. With Kaitlyn.
Roaming the woods. With Kaitlyn.
His heart pounded, his nostrils flared, and he huffed like a bear after a marathon. Slamming his front door open, he charged through and kicked it shut behind him.
Only then did he double over, hands on his knees, sagging to catch his breath.
Kaitlyn Savoy.
The sexiest thing he’d ever laid eyes on.
The shifter he was never supposed to meet. His mate.
And she was oblivious to it.
He stomped through his cabin. Her lack of mating insight was for the best. If he had his pick of shifters, she’d be the last on the list. Besides, he was promised to another. Kaitlyn was young yet, and based on her blasé to distasteful reaction to him, she’d have no trouble moving on. Or not. Her sanity may last longer than most who don’t anchor their souls with a mate. But if she needed to bond, she wouldn’t have a problem finding someone. Like that bartender at Pale Moonlight.
His fangs bared and a growl escaped before he stopped himself. He’d never caught her with him, but stories had it the bartender helped her assuage the physical needs shifters of their caliber experienced. She hadn’t been with the guy since Chayton had been around. That decision had increased the bartender’s life expectancy considerably.
No. No. It shouldn’t matter. She needed to move on and he had no say with who. Chayton straightened and wiped his brow, which had dotted with sweat. It was always an effort to contain his reaction around that female.
Why her?
Ancient blood—pure, undiluted shifter blood—ran through his veins, thanks to his father. His Sioux mother would roll over in her grave. Chayton’s bloodlines were rich with history and honor.
The female he’d sworn himself to, Tika, would make a lovely mate instead. Soft brown eyes, feminine curves, and ancestry as strong as his. In fact, she was coming of age soon. For him, that was twenty-five. Her parents had pushed for their union when she turned eighteen, but that had seemed too pervy for him. At two-hundred and twenty-nine, he wasn’t about to jump a girl the second she was legal. If it was up to him, he’d wait even longer, but even Tika had pushed for their binding.
His stomach rumbled, alerting him that he’d missed dinner. Not that he’d eat at the main lodge anyway; it was a tactic he used to avoid Kaitlyn.


About the Author:

Marie Johnston lives in the upper-Midwest with her husband, four kids, and an old cat. Deciding to trade in her lab coat for a laptop, she’s writing down all the tales she’s been making up in her head for years. An avid reader of paranormal romance, these are the stories hanging out and waiting to be told, between the demands of work, home, and the endless chauffeuring that comes with children.






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