• Home
  • Posts Tagged'shifter'

Posts Tagged ‘shifter’

Out Now—Winning the Campaign Manager by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #PNR #erotica #romance #gay

Blurb:

Politics has never been so sexy!

Cade Avery is running for a position on his local county council. He’s extremely good at what he does and is a valuable asset to his community. The trouble is, he upsets people, says the wrong things, and rides rough-shod over other people’s plans and ideas. His assistant, Mary, eager to improve Cade’s public image, hires him a campaign manager.

Quentin Rayworth is thrilled to be working with such a formidable public figure. It’ll be a challenge, but he’s confident he can help Cade to win the election, and knows that the achievement will look impressive on his CV.

It’s soon clear that the two men are set to be an excellent team. That is, until Cade’s werewolf makes its intentions known—in Quentin, it has found its mate, and it will not rest until he has claimed him. But can Cade—and his wolf—win over the campaign manager?

Buy links:

Amazon (universal link): http://mybook.to/WTCM

Evernight Publishing: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/winning-the-campaign-manager-by-lucy-felthouse/

BookStrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/winning-the-campaign-manager-mm

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/733972?ref=cw1985

Other links will be added here when they become available: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/winning-the-campaign-manager/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35581577-winning-the-campaign-manager

*****

Excerpt:

“You’ve done what?” Cade Avery yelled, fixing his long-time friend and colleague, Mary Summers, with a glare. He slammed his hands down on his desk, making a bunch of pens jump and rattle, and causing water to splash over the side of his glass. “Why the hell would you do such a thing?”

Mary, by now used to Cade’s temper and frequent outbursts, didn’t flinch. Standing firm on the other side of his desk, she calmly stated, “You heard me, Cade. I’ve appointed you a campaign manager. And as for the why, I think it’s pretty damn obvious.”

“Not to me,” he grumbled, snatching a handful of tissues from the box in his top drawer and swiping irritably at the liquid he’d spilled. “Seems like an unnecessary expense.”

With a heavy sigh, Mary replied, “Do you want to win this bloody election or not?”

“Yes, of course I do. What sort of a stupid question is that?”

“Well then, you need a campaign manager. The rest of the team and I already have enough on our plates. We can’t handle that side of things, too. Not to mention the fact that you really need someone with … expertise … in that department. Someone who can boost your public image, make you more likeable … you know, so people will actually vote for you.”

Screwing up the wad of soggy tissue and dumping it in the wastebasket beside him, Cade snapped his gaze to Mary. She stood, the ever-present iPad clutched against her chest, looking as determined and immovable as a five-feet-one, slim thirty-five-year-old was ever going to get.

He sat back in his chair and folded his arms. “What’s wrong with my public image?”

Rolling her eyes heavenward, her body tensing, Mary’s cool demeanor actually looked on the verge of cracking. Taking a deep breath and releasing it, she looked back at him. “Give me strength, Cade. Are you fucking serious?”

She may have used the deep breath and probably a considerable amount of willpower to dampen down her physical reaction to his question, but her actual words gave her true state of mind away. As a rule, the word “bloody” was as bad as it got for Mary. To have enticed a “fucking” out of her, and within the same conversation, no less, meant she was in real danger of losing her temper with him. And despite her diminutive frame and usually chilled-out personality—especially in comparison with his huge frame and fiery personality—when she did lose it, she was utterly terrifying. Possibly the fact that she rarely got angry was what made it so potent when she did. Mary’s ire could turn even the thickest-skinned person into a blubbering wreck.

“Mary,” he cooed, backtracking quickly, “come on, sit down. Why do you always insist on standing up in here?”

“Because, unless we’re having a meeting, I don’t generally need to stay long. I normally impart my information, you give your feedback, and we get on with our day.” She shifted restlessly and narrowed her eyes. “But today, it seems, you’re having a bit of a brain fart. Do I really need to spell it out for you?”

Raising his eyebrows at her increasing irritation, and wondering if there was something going on in her private life that was making her so touchy, he nodded. “Yes, I really think you do.”

A few seconds of silence passed, in which Mary again seemed to be getting a grip on her irritation. She finally said, “All right. But don’t forget; you asked for it.”

*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller), The Persecution of the Wolves and Hiding in Plain Sight. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 160 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter or Facebook. Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. Subscribe to her newsletter and get a free eBook: http://www.subscribepage.com/lfnewsletter

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.

 

Out Now – The Persecution of the Wolves by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #PNR #thriller #shifter

The-persecustiob-of-wolves-evernightpublishing-2016-smallpreview - CopyBlurb:

Werewolf brothers Matthew and Isaac have lived in the peaceful village of Eyam, Derbyshire all their lives. The villagers know what happens every full moon, and have their reasons for keeping quiet. But this secrecy comes at a cost—the brothers can’t risk romantic entanglements.

Then, at the full moon, a sheep is slaughtered on Eyam Moor, by what could only be a large animal. Even the brothers’ staunchest supporters begin to have their doubts about who—or what—could have done it.

As the brothers fight to clear their names, things are complicated by unexpected opportunities to indulge their lust. Isaac is intrigued by a handsome newcomer to the village, and a vivacious visitor is happy to offer Matthew her all.

Can the men prove their innocence, or is their centuries-old secret about to be revealed to the outside world, bringing their carefully-crafted existence crashing down around their ears?

PLEASE NOTE: This book was previously published as Pack of Lies—the content has not changed. The novel also contains both M/F and M/M scenes.

Buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/the-persecution-of-the-wolves/

*****

wolvesteaser01

Excerpt:

As Matthew and Isaac Adams opened the front door to their house, the telephone started ringing. Matthew sighed. “Typical. No rest for the wicked. I’ll answer it, you go and get ready for work.”

Isaac nodded and headed off to do as his brother advised. Matthew, the older of the two, walked toward the ringing phone and snatched it off the hook. Then, remembering that the person on the other end of the line would have no idea what a rough night he’d just had, he made the effort to inject some politeness into his tone.

“Hello? Adams residence.” Isaac had told him time and time again that the last part about the residence was old-fashioned, that people didn’t say that anymore, but Matthew couldn’t seem to shake it.

“Hello, Matthew? It’s Richard.” The village vicar’s voice, even though he’d only spoken four words, sounded strained, almost panicked. “You boys just get back?”

“Yeah, a moment ago. Why, what’s up?”

“I, uh… I got a call. A dead sheep has been found up on the moor. Not just dead. Mutilated. Like a wild animal attack.”

An unpleasant feeling wormed its way under Matthew’s skin and his stomach flipped. “Oh?” He paused, then figured he had nothing to gain by not saying the next words he wanted to. “You don’t think it was us?”

The vicar’s gasp was instant, one of genuine surprise. “Lord, no! Absolutely not. I just phoned to let you know and I was wondering if you’d come up there with me and take a look? You and Isaac are probably more qualified than anyone else in the village to tell what did this.”

“Isaac has to work, he just went to get ready. But yes, I’ll come up. I’ll let my brother know where I’m going, then I’ll be straight over. Are you at the rectory?”

“Yes. Okay, I’ll see you soon. Thanks, Matthew. Bye.”

“Goodbye.”

Matthew hung up the phone with another sigh. The horrible feeling that had crept under his skin and taken over his gut seemed as if it was there to stay, and it was never a good sign. The vicar’s news was surprising, yes, but he also had an inkling that it was going to spell trouble, or at the very least, inconvenience for him and his brother.

Pulling in a deep breath in an attempt to calm his jangling nerves, Matthew walked upstairs and toward his brother’s bedroom. The door was closed. He knocked. “You decent?”

“Yeah,” Isaac replied, “close enough.”

Stepping into the room, Matthew looked at his brother. He was half-dressed, ready for his shift at the doctor’s surgery, where he was a general practitioner. “Sorry to interrupt, mate, but that was Richard on the phone. They’ve found a mutilated sheep up on the moor, and he’s asked me to go with him to check it out.”

Isaac paused with one arm pushed into his shirtsleeve. “He doesn’t think—”

Matthew cut him off. “No. He was quite adamant about that. He just thought we’d be able to help figure out what did it. I explained that you’ve got to go to work, though. I’m going to head across there now and go up with him.”

“I could phone in, let them know I’ll be late.”

Matthew held up his hand. “There’s no need, brother. Relax. Just go to work and help the sick people. I’ll let you know what—if anything—I find out.”

Opening his mouth, then closing it again, Isaac seemed to have thought better of whatever he was going to say. He continued to dress. “All right, I will. But make sure you let me know what happens. Send me a text or something, and I’ll phone you as soon as I have a gap in between patients.”

Matthew grimaced. He hated texting. Hated mobile phones, actually. Technology was one of the things he disliked most about modern-day life, though he realized it was a necessary evil. It solved as many problems for him and his brother as it created, so he dealt with it as best he could. Fortunately, Isaac had always had an affinity with computers and phones, so he tutored Matthew.

“Yeah, all right. I’d better go and find my phone first then, eh?”

Smirking at his brother’s rolled eyes, he left the room and headed for his own bedroom, where he thought he’d left the device the previous night before he and Isaac had headed for the caves. Immediately spotting the mobile phone—which Isaac often made a point of telling him was akin to a brick—he grabbed it, stuffed it into his pocket, and made his way downstairs.

Retrieving his keys from the hook by the front door, he called up to his brother. “I’m going now, Isaac. I’ll see you after my shift at the pub. I’m working until closing time.”

“Okay. Don’t forget to keep me posted!”

“I won’t.” As if he could forget. The dead sheep was going to be a big thing, he just knew it. The vicar might not think he and his brother had anything to do with it, but some of the other villagers might. When there was no proof either way, just his and Isaac’s word, it was understandable, really. Since he and his brother changed into wolves every full moon, it was a natural conclusion to draw. Particularly since normal wolves had been extinct in England for over five hundred years.

wolvesteaser02

*****

Lucy_FelthouseAuthor Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller) and Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller). Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 140 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter and Facebook. You can also subscribe to her monthly newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

 

Out Now! Cupid by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985 @evernightpub) #holiday #christmas #erotica #romance #shifter #paranormal #pnr

CupidBlurb:

As a postman by day, and one of Santa’s reindeer on a single very special night, Cassius Cupid eats, sleeps, and breathes deliveries. He doesn’t mind, but sometimes wishes that someone would send him something more exciting than bills and junk mail.

One cold January morning, Cassius gets his wish. A young woman arrives with a parcel. Turns out it’s for his housemate – but Cassius doesn’t care. All he’s interested in is Carina – the beautiful female courier.

Has Cupid finally met his match?

Buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/cupid/

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/27255784-cupid

*****

cupidteaser01

Excerpt:

Cassius Cupid woke with a start, and then sat bolt upright in his bed. Shit, I’m going to be late! was his first thought.

Milliseconds later his brain switched on, and he remembered. He was on holiday. Flopping back onto the warm mattress and pillows with a contented sigh, he smiled. No work for fourteen whole days—it was going to be utter bliss. He stretched, relishing the feeling it created in his sleep-softened muscles. Ahhh…this is the life.

He knew he wouldn’t go back to sleep—hell, it was eight o’clock, which was practically the middle of the day for someone in his profession—so Cassius fell to thinking about how he was going to spend his day, not to mention the several others in front of him. God knew he deserved to relax and have some fun. He’d just emerged from the busiest part of his year, and he was more than ready to do some chilling out.

He enjoyed his job as a postman—he really did—but the Christmas period was a total killer. He idly wondered how many cards and presents he’d delivered over the past few weeks. It didn’t bear thinking about. Once you factored in the festive period itself, the weird few days between Christmas and New Year, and then the flurry of mail that got sent when everyone went back to work properly at the beginning of January, he’d racked up some serious deliveries. And that was before you even thought about his other job—which was for just one day a year, but was arguably more important than the other 364 put together.

Cassius—or Cupid, as he was known to his boss and colleagues in his second, but most important job—was not only a regular postman for the Royal Mail, but also a reindeer. For a single day of the year, Cassius had the supernatural power to transform into one of Santa’s faithful steeds and help pull that famous magical sleigh, delivering presents to excited children the world over.

Therefore, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Cassius really did eat, sleep and breathe deliveries, but not for the next fourteen days. All he planned to do was watch some TV, read some books, maybe go out hiking, meet some friends… basically anything that wasn’t delivering something to someone. Hey, he might even receive something through the post himself—preferably not the usual crap; bills and junk mail. He didn’t hold out much hope.

He lounged in bed for another ten minutes before realising he was lying there just for the sake of it. Being on holiday didn’t have to equal staying in bed all day—and certainly not for someone as active as him. He reached over to his bedside table, grabbed his glasses and put them on. Throwing off his thick duvet, he walked to his bedroom window and peeked out through the curtains, immediately glad of the effective central heating he and his housemate had forked out to have installed the previous year.

The outside world was covered in a thick layer of snow, and Cassius was mightily glad that he wasn’t out delivering letters and parcels. The stuff was treacherous enough without having to carry a heavy bag up and down driveways, paths, and pavements — most of which either hadn’t been cleared, or had been cleared badly, leaving incredibly slippery patches of ground for an unsuspecting postie to come across. God knows he’d gone down enough times, but, much to his relief, nobody had ever seen him do it. He’d always been relatively unharmed—excerpt for his pride, of course—and had been able to scramble back to his feet and carry on.

The eerie silence outside was broken by the rumble of an engine, and Cassius turned his head to look up the street—he lived in a cul-de-sac, so he knew that’s where the vehicle would come from—and watched as a delivery van made its way slowly and carefully down the road. He hoped the driver was sensible enough to try and steer over the thickest parts of the snow—the more people went over and over the same patches, packing it down, the more the road surface resembled an ice rink. And since the cul-de-sac was on a slight hill, it was easy enough to get stuck. He’d seen it so many times—even going outside one time last winter to suggest the driver go down to the bottom of the road, turn around and try reversing up the hill—an almost foolproof plan for vans with rear-wheel drive. He’d gotten a big thumbs-up for that suggestion as the driver finally got to the junction where the road became flat, and went on his merry way.

As the van drew closer to his house, he saw that the driver was a woman. That would explain her cautious driving—he’d never admit it to one of his drinking buddies, but women were far superior when it came to driving in adverse weather conditions. He even thought he’d seen some survey containing statistics that proved it.

Cupid-EvernightPublishing-Jayaheer2015-banner1

*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 140 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

releaseblitzbutton_cupid

 

The Eyes of Bast by Lisabet Sarai

TheEyesOfBastCover300

Channeling the Cat

It’s almost a joke – the common association between authors and cats. I haven’t done a systematic survey, but I would estimate that at least 75% of the authors I hosts as blog guests mention feline companions in their bios. I’m no exception. I currently have two cats who traveled with us from the United States to southeast Asia ten years ago, and who have settled in quite comfortably.

Of course, many famous writers were renowned for their close relationships with their felines.  Colette, Papa Hemingway, Jean-Paul Satre, Ray Bradbury… the list goes on and on.  The inspiration for my erotic writing career, Portia da Costa, is a huge cat lover – that’s one of the things that forged a bond between us.

Many explanations have been offered for the feline-author affinity. A cat doesn’t need to be walked, so we can spend our time at our desks as opposed to trucking around on the street scooping up their business. Cats are mysterious creatures with many layers of personality – rather like effective characters. Cats have an elegance and precision of movement we writers might use as a model for our prose. Many authors have cited their felines as sources of inspiration. Noted Canadian writer Robertson Davies once said “Authors like cats because they are such quiet, lovable, wise creatures, and cats like authors for the same reason.”

The other day, I was suddenly struck by a new theory. I was thinking about the fact that so many authors report hearing “voices”. “I just listen to my characters, and write down what they say,” one of my guests commented. Writing sometimes feels like something driven from outside, beyond our conscious control. Well, what if that’s true?

What if it’s not our characters who are dictating the story? What if it’s our cats?

Ridiculous, right? But Mr. Toes sits behind my monitor most days I’m writing. He pretends to be asleep, but if I should get up for a bathroom break or a drink of water, he stirs and gives me a look, as it to say, “Where are you going? The story’s not done yet!”

I grew up with cats. I grew up writing fiction. When I went off to college and then grad school, I left the felines behind, and although I wrote lots of poetry during that period, I didn’t pen a single story. Then I met my husband, a confirmed ailurophile, and filled my life with felines once more. Next thing you know, I was a published author.

Ever tried to write when your cat was sick? Tough to concentrate on the tale, isn’t it?

And wouldn’t this explain why our characters are larger than life? Why they have so much vitality, such powerful passions, such intense adventures? How could a mere human imagine such creatures? Cats, though – they have superhuman abilities. Just ask them.

Of course to really test this, we’d all have to get rid of our felines and then see if we could still write.

That might be informative. It might restore our self-respect. But it’s simply too painful to contemplate.

If I’m channeling my cats, I’m okay with that. As long as they don’t want their names on the cover.

Meanwhile, I’ve finally written a story in which a cat has center stage. The Eyes of Bast is a shifter tale with a difference. Read on to learn more.

Blurb

Trust your heart. Follow your dreams.

Shaina Williams’ grandmother bequeathed her that wisdom, along with a old pendant from the Islands, carved from an ocelot’s tooth. When instinct tells Shaina to visit the feral cat trap she’d set in Central Park, she listens to that inner voice, She discovers she’s caged a magnificent black tom, but the cat inexplicably vanishes after she tends to his wounds. Seeking the errant feline, Shaina encounters instead a handsome stranger whose slightest touch sets her body on fire. As the day dawns after a night of ferocious passion, her mysterious lover is forced back into his true shape – the tomcat she’d rescued.

Born a cat, Tom was transformed into an unwilling shape shifter by a sorceress who craved a human plaything to satisfy her perverse lusts. Centuries old and irresistibly powerful, Delphine Montserrat will stop at nothing to find her runaway familiar. Shaina vows to do whatever is necessary to defeat the vicious but seductive witch and save the man she believes is her soul mate – even though it might mean losing him forever.

Buy Links:

Totally BoundAll Romance Ebooks | Amazon USAmazon UKBarnes & Noble | Kobo

Add on GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25153711-the-eyes-of-bast

Check out my exclusive interview about the book at Totally Bound!

https://www.totallybound.com/the-eyes-of-bast-exclusive

 

 

Excerpt:

It was near dawn when I woke again. In the pearl-gray light filtering through the blinds, my familiar furnishings were strange and ghostly, shrouded in shadow. Stretching, I realized I was no longer on the floor. My bed had been unfolded, and I lay stretched out on the sheets, nude. Alone.

Groggy with sleep, I raised myself on my elbows to scan the room. It appeared to be empty. “Tom?” I whispered. There was no answer. A sense of unreality seized me. Had I dreamed the entire scene – the handsome intruder, the overwhelmingly sensual kiss, the orgasm that had shot me straight into the stratosphere? I recalled my devastating arousal in the stranger’s presence. What was going on? Could I be suffering from some kind of hormonal imbalance? This seemed like something more than the normal horniness of a woman who’d been celibate for a while.

Thinking exhausted me. I sank back into my pillow, closing my eyes as if that might make my doubts and confusion vanish. Sleep, I told myself. Ill figure things out in the morning. I was already drifting back into slumber when the sound of running water roused me.

I peered into the dimness. A tall, male form emerged from the bathroom. My heart did a somersault in my chest.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

His low, musical voice melted me. I propped myself up to a sitting position, heedless of my nakedness.

“You! You’re real…You’re still here?”

He’d discarded his clothing as well. In the half-light, I drank in the sight of his smooth, muscled limbs, becoming more intoxicated by the moment. He seated himself beside me and circled me with his arms. Heat radiated from his dark skin.

“Why would I leave, my beautiful one?” he murmured in my ear. Bending a bit, he flicked his tongue across one of my nipples. Lightning tore through me. “There are still a few hours left to the night.”

Before I could reply, he’d fastened his luscious mouth on mine. His firm lips coaxed rather than demanded a response, one I was only too willing to give. I opened to the prodding of his rough tongue, letting him taste me, savoring his wild, sweet flavor in return.

Once again a sort of delirium swept over me. It seemed we were back in the park, sheltered by trees more than a century old. My nostrils filled with the perfume of dew-soaked grass and damp earth, laced with a hint of animal musk. I felt light as dandelion down, drifting in the night wind. Only his strong grip kept me grounded. The moon rode above the clouds, invisible but palpable, stirring tides in my flesh. Desire ebbed then surged, cresting higher with each cycle.

His hands molded my breasts like moist clay. Blind with need, I groped along his furred chest and taut belly, down to his gloriously erect cock. When I squeezed, he moaned into my mouth and bit the corner of my lip. The iron-tinged flavor of my own blood simply added to the stew of sensation.

I smeared my thumb over the slippery bulb. His answer was a savage twist to an already aching nipple. Moisture gushed from my pussy. I tumbled backward, dragging him down on top of me.

“Shaina…” he murmured, breaking the kiss to lick his way along my throat. His saliva felt like liquid fire. He nuzzled in the hollow of my cleavage, then captured one breast and began to suckle. Electric pleasure arced through me when his hardness brushed my inner thigh. I squirmed beneath him, trying to align his cock with my hungry cleft.

“Please….” There was no need for me to say more. The stranger rose above me, supporting himself on his powerful arms. His eyes gleamed like phosphorescent jewels in the grayness. He smiled down at me, baring those sharp, white teeth that had already drawn my blood. An almost inhuman glee painted his features.

He hovered at my entrance, his rigid flesh teasing my engorged clit. I spread my thighs wide. Without a word, he sank his cock deep into my drenched pussy.

 

About the Author

When I was a little girl, my dad would make up stories for my siblings and me, fabulous sagas about ghosts and monsters, magical races with mysterious powers, heroes on impossible quests, hidden treasures awaiting only the most courageous seeker. I blame him for my lifelong fascination with the magical and miraculous.

Now that I’m grown up, I create my own tales of wonder, weaving in generous portions of human desire with its potent enchantments. In my paranormal tales, love works the most powerful magick.

Find out more about me and my books at my website, Lisabet’s Fantasy Factory (http://www.lisabetsarai.com) and my blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com). I also hang out on Goodreads (http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/83387.Lisabet_Sarai) and Amazon (https://www.amazon.com/author/lisabetsarai).  I also have a VIP readers email list where I share release and contest information and run exclusive monthly giveaways. To join, just email me: lisabet [at] lisabetsarai [dot] com.

 

An Angel’s Soul (Sins of Wolves: The Safe Mountain Series) by Destiny Blaine and Marc Alice

motorcycle handle bar against blue cloudy skyBlurb:

The Sins of Wolves bikers prepare for the fight of their lives when special teams storm their coveted home at Safe Mountain. Unable to predict the outcome of a deadly war, Chuck and Robby lead several pack members to the front lines of a battle they cannot win.

Gifted shifters of an ancient breed, Robby and Rebecca are determined to fight for their mountain habitat and the Sins of Wolves. Together they join with Chuck and his mate in hopes of pulling out all the stops and overpowering their adversaries. Still, their efforts fall short of a true victory when one of their own is killed during the first strike. Safe Mountain soon becomes ground zero as the pack faces what is destined to unfold as the beginning of a catastrophic end.

 

Buy Links

Bookstrand

All Romance Ebooks

Amazon

*****

The Age of Innocence continued to gain momentum. According to newswires, armies were closing in and a dangerous rebellion was well underway.

Death was imminent. It would deliver a damning punch. There would be no peace, no shallow death, and murder would come in its most brutal forms—torture, concentration camps, and agonizing persecution for the families harboring their young or protecting mere strangers.

A civil war would only promise a violent end to a senseless beginning. Who would stand as victors and determine the fate of The Age of Innocence? A predicted outcome was impossible but those who left the battlefields at all would indeed be considered among the strongest and perhaps deadliest of winners just by leaving the hostile grounds with their very lives.

 

Excerpt from An Angel’s Soul

What happened next unfolded like a series of events in slow motion. The red circles danced up and down, zipping from side to side, and crossing at strategic points as if to follow a specific pattern.

Laurel stared at the wall ahead now bright with fiery color. “Oh God.”

“No! Laurel!” Romy screeched. “Get down now! Chuck! Do something!”

It was too late.

Robby yelled, but his voice resonated like a reverberating deep baritone. “No!” His haunting scream echoed around them, but none of them could save her.

Chuck turned, but he couldn’t scramble to his feet in time to rescue his dear friend. Rebecca pivoted to the left and extended her arms, clearly prepared to phase and save Laurel’s life.

The shots rang out. One, then ten, then fifteen and then twenty. Pupupupow! Pupupupow!

No one could save the club’s sheep. Death’s henchman had placed its kiss of death on Laurel’s unsuspecting check.

Snipers took their marked deadly shots. And they made them count.

Laurel’s arms flew out to her sides. Her weapons dropped to the floor with a thud. Her body jerked violently as gunmen fired repetitive shots.

“No!” Chuck screamed, his face twisting into an agonized expression as Laurel fell face forward in his lap.

As if he could do something to save her, Chuck dragged her away from the window’s view, covering her head with his arms. He must’ve thought the belated protection would matter.

Laurel’s blood-soaked clothes were probably filled with over a hundred bullet holes. Captain Larry Kellogg had successfully delivered a driven point.

They never had ten minutes, not for one second. They weren’t given a real chance to surrender. This day marked the day of reckoning.

It was time for the Senator and his men to make the true heroes look like vengeful outlaws. The time for persecution was upon them. Their enemies were there with murderous intentions and the weapons to ensure they carried out their orders.

As the pendulum of war kept a tally more than time, the first point was carried down. Sins of Wolves, zero. Senator Brighton, one.

The fight till the death was on.

*****

Author Bios

Destiny Blaine is an international bestselling author writing under several award-winning pseudonyms. A full-time author for over ten years, Destiny loves writing in all genres. Her previous books have been #1 bestsellers at Bookstrand and her titles have captured #1 and #2 bestselling spots in eight different categories at Amazon. She enjoys hearing from her readers and invites them to connect on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/DestinyBlaine or visit her on the web at http://www.destinyblaine.com. If you enjoyed this series, join Destiny and the whole Safe Mountain crew at: http://sinsofwolves.blogspot.com.

Marc Alice set out on a writing journey ages ago and discovered creative freedom at Dark Hollows Press. Working on collaboration projects, Lucifer’s Lunatic and Sins of Wolves: The Safe Mountain series, Marc believes love exists at the root of goodness and evil. He enjoys writing stories where there are clear antagonists and protagonists, and finds it’s always enjoyable when the two work out their differences and reach satisfying, and sometimes intimate, conclusions.

 
  • Page 1 of 2
  • 1
  • 2
© 2017 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

Site created and maintained by Writer Marketing Services | Sitemap
Social media & sharing icons powered by UltimatelySocial