There was no doubt in Todd’s mind Witze’s orders had been if the Rugers were found they were to be taken alive at all costs. More soldiers ran in, getting between Nick and the train car. When they raised their rifles, he threw both hands in the air, sliding over the gravel for a few feet before he started backpedaling. “Down!” It was the captain shouting at them. Nick did what Todd knew was a fake drop, not going completely down. As a second set of soldiers were closing in, he bounced back to his feet, kicking out, leg going in a wide arc. Nick relieved one of the soldiers of his rifle when the blow sent the weapon wheeling through the air before it crashed into the train car, cracking into pieces. Todd stopped so quickly two of the soldiers chasing him ran right past. He did another turn and sprinted away from the train car. The second the soldiers caught up to him, he stopped again, spun on his heels, and landed a punch to the closest man’s face. Caught off guard, the soldier stumbled, dropped his rifle, and landed on his ass, sprawled in the dirt. Nick ran full speed, parallel to the train. He’d likely seen the same opening Todd did and was going for it, with Todd right behind him. The train picked up speed, pulling away from the station. If they weren’t on it soon, it would be moving too fast for them to jump into a car. A sharp whistle slithering through the air as Todd turned toward Nick caused his heart to skip, then thud against his sternum. Whirling along, no more than a foot off the ground, a bolas collided with Nick’s legs just below his knees. The balls wrapped the rope around his legs, taking him down. Nick pitched forward and hit the ground with a harsh grunt, hands out, preventing him from landing face-first in the gravel. He looked up, watching the movements of the rifles trained on him. One of the soldiers motioned with his rifle and said, “On your back.” At once, Nick obeyed, rolling onto his back, hands held up and to his sides. A few more strides brought Todd to Nick. He dropped beside Nick, holding one hand out and pressing the other against Nick’s chest. Todd might have expected Nick to follow through and escape without Todd, but there was no way Todd would ever consider abandoning Nick. “You two are very slippery, and I’ve had quite enough of your shenanigans,” the captain said. She strode through her troops and stood in front of them, staring down at Todd. She jerked her chin at Nick’s legs. “Get that thing off him and get them cuffed. We’ll take them to the stockade and get this mess with Witze straightened out. In the meantime, you two are under arrest. Try running again and the other gets a bullet between his eyes.” Nick lifted his legs so the bolas could be unwound. Todd climbed to his feet. He grabbed one of Nick’s hands for Todd to pull up against. Their packs were taken, and they were forced a few paces apart, hands pulled behind their backs and cuffs slapped into place. A horse was brought forward. “Time to mount up,” one of the soldiers said and shoved Todd at the animal. He slung the packs’ straps over the saddle pommel. Another soldier dropped a noose around Nick’s neck, gave a tug, and tied him to the horse’s saddle. Todd dug his heels in. “Where’s his horse?” “He’s roped to it. Now get on.” The soldier slammed a fist into Todd’s back, forcing him forward a few steps. “Either he rides with me or I walk with him,” Todd ground out. “Oh, for the love of…if the fool wants to walk, let him,” the captain said. She held out her hand, fingers waggling. “Give me another rope.” A second noose was handed over to her, which she promptly dropped around Todd’s neck, then gave a jerk, pulling it tight. When he groaned out a breath, she smirked and stepped closer to Todd. “My advice? Don’t piss me off again or I’ll forget my orders and put you both out of my misery.”
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BOOK BLAST ![]() Book Title: The Perfume of War Author: Garrick Jones Publisher: Tellwell Publications Cover Artist: Garrick Jones Release Date: November 25, 2024 Genres: Crime Thriller, WW2 Spy Thriller Themes: Historical Crime fiction, WW2; Spies/Action/Thriller Heat Rating: 2 flames Length: 134 000 words/420 pages (paperback version) It is Book #4 in the Seventh of December Series and does not end on a cliffhanger. Buy Links Amazon AU | Amazon US | Amazon UK | Smashwords ![]() Blurb “Please donate generously to Mrs. Roosevelt’s charity. Every penny raised from this series of concerts along the eastern coast of the United States will help with the resettlement and care of child refugees from war-torn continental Europe.” Over dinner with J Edgar Hoover in Washington, Tommy Haupner is shocked to learn that his forgotten and empty Swiss bank account has been topped up regularly with staggering sums of money … deposits that originate in Nazi Germany. Could this bank account have something to do with anonymous letters posted to him at home in London, their contents a single blank slip of paper on which are written two words: NAZI GOLD? When he returns to Britain, he soon discovers that not only is his own life in danger but also those of his nearest and dearest who become pawns in a savage game of revenge. Excerpt I knew he’d tell me if he knew anything; we’d pledged never to keep secrets after our first foray behind enemy lines in early 1941. “All right, I’m listening,” I said. “I’ve been told not to bring anything. No personal items and no documents, not even a toothbrush.” “Uh-oh,” I said. That sort of deployment, where clothes, right down to underwear, toiletries and everything else would be supplied, indicated that whatever the mission was going to be, it wouldn’t be a local training course. “How long will you be away? Any idea?” “Minimum three weeks, maybe more. That’s all I know.” “I know duty calls, but what a shame. I was looking forward to having dinner with you again at Xavier’s. And your parents will be very disappointed; I know they were excited about travelling to Washington for the presentation of your Silver Star.” “Yeah, I know, babe. Me too. I’ve just finished writing a letter. Will you give it to them?” He must have seen the sudden change in my face, because he laughed softly then pulled me down on to his lap. “No, it’s not one of those sorts of letters, Tommy. I just want to let them know how sorry I am not to be able to catch up this trip, but I’m sure there’ll be another opportunity. Who knows: maybe this secret mission might be in the USA.” We both knew that that was hardly likely to be the case. Reporting for deployment with absolutely no personal items except the clothes you were wearing indicated a place, or a situation, where the threat of capture was a reality. My mind ran quickly through the possibilities: occupied France or Italy were top of my list. “What about your niece’s birthday party?” I asked. “I know she had something special planned that included both of us.” “Helene will cope. I’ll put five dollars for her in the letter to Mom and Pop.” “Money isn’t the same as a present. I’ll see if I can find something from us both when I get there.” “Tommy …” “Yes?” “We knew a day like this would come. I’m not being dramatic or anything, but we’ve been so lucky so far. We’ve talked about what it’s like for everyone else: husbands and wives and lovers separated by the war, families bereft of their sons, wondering where they might be. It’s the life we’re all faced with now and I have to go; I simply don’t have a choice. You understand that, don’t you? And I promise I’m coming back.” “You’d better, soldier,” I said, willing myself to believe it. Although I was trying to sound calm and collected, inside I felt more than a little anxious. Yes, we’d known a day like this would come, but I’d wished with all my might that it never would. I had no qualms about being sent away myself, but Shorty … well, that was a different thing altogether. “Have you eaten?” he asked. “Not yet.” “Well, the family’s out having dinner with your uncle Otto, so …” “So what?” I asked. “I brought ham, cheese and a loaf of fresh white bread home from the embassy—even a slab of butter, believe it or not. Fancy a sandwich, naked, in the dark, mister?” It was a crazy thing to do, but our relationship had been filled with small madnesses. Wearing just our garters and socks, we sat on the kitchen table eating ham and cheese sandwiches, washing it down with glasses of milk, also purloined from the embassy kitchen. He’d brought home enough for everyone else too, including a spare large bottle of the almost-impossible-to-obtain white stuff. With a soft burp he wiped the milk moustache from his upper lip; I was about to do the same but he stopped me. “Let me, Tommy,” he whispered low in his throat, and wiped it away with the flat of his tongue. I knew the family wouldn’t return unexpectedly and catch us in the kitchen, so I pushed him on to his back on the kitchen table. Not wanting to waste our last evening together for another month, I got to work on him, promising my man a good hour at least of looking after him. “An hour, Tommy?” he said, laughing into my mouth. “Who says it only has to be once?” I replied as I kissed my way down his body. About the Author ![]() From the outback to the opera. After a thirty-year career as a professional opera singer, performing as a soloist in opera houses and in concert halls all over the world, I took up a position as lecturer in music in Australia in 1999, at the Central Queensland Conservatorium of Music, which is now part of CQ University. Brought up in Australia, between the bush and the beaches of the Eastern suburbs, I retired in 2015 and now live in the tropics, writing, gardening, and finally finding time to enjoy life and to re-establish a connection with who I am after a very busy career on the stage and as an academic. ![]() Author Links Blog/Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram Pinterest | Newsletter Sign-up ![]() My snippet this week is from Love and Lust, book 4 of Pain and Pleasure. So far, Taren happily admitted, Ian was darned pleased. And, yes, Taren was proud of himself, thank you very much! He’d found some interesting and fun new toys for them to experiment with while Taren continued Ian’s ever constant submissive ‘training’. Currently they were on their way to an adult, BDSM resort for a few nights of uninhibited fun. There are more snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group! Love and Lust is available in eBook and through Kindle Unlimited.
“That little stunt would’ve killed a human who wasn’t scintilla. Even a werewolf would feel very painful effects.” She gave Brandon’s face a harsh pat. “Isn’t that right little boy?” Brandon nodded and glared at the floor. She spun the chair around and Brandon was facing the computer tower again. “Get it done.” She slapped her hand onto a piece of paper. “I-I c-can’t with t-the ch-chair m-m-moving.” She stood straight and blew out a breath. “Spineless.” Stepping away from Brandon she turned to Bob. “Get a stable chair.” “Zoe, this one keeps him subdued. We used it before,” Bob argued. Zoe whirled on Bob and flicked her fingers in his direction. Brandon watched, fascinated, as five thin, long sparks hit Bob in his neck like tiny spears. He slapped one hand to his neck and yelped. “What the hell!” Bob sputtered. “I know more about him than you do. I think I’ve got this covered. Just do it!” Zoe snapped. Bob growled but stormed out of the room. He was back a few minutes later with the solid, winged-back chair Brandon was used to and dropped it beside Brandon. Bob grabbed Brandon under the arms and hefted him out of one chair and shoved him into the other one. The rolling chair was kicked away and the stationary chair was pushed into place. When Bob’s phone rang, he raised one finger and held the phone in the other hand, glancing at the screen. “It’s Bisset.” He answered the call. “Yeah, I’ve got him here. Okay. I’ll take care of it.” After his phone was pocketed, he turned to Zoe. “Change of plans. Tala is in custody. They know what she is. The power to the police station where she is needs to be cut so no one can see her and Bisset get out.” Zoe walked to the table and leaned against it, gazing down at Brandon. She leveled a bone-chilling stare at him and steepled her fingers together. Tiny sparks wafted into the air. She arched one eyebrow and smirked. “We’d better get started then.” BLOG TOUR ![]() Book Title: Thunder Road: Badlands Book 7 Author: Morgan Brice Publisher: Darkwind Press Cover Artist: Natania Barron Release Date: December 17, 2024 Tense/POV: third person, past tense, alternating POV Genres: MM Urban Fantasy/Paranormal/Psychic romance, Historical/Steampunk Tropes: Established and developing relationship, co-worker romance, forbidden romance in Victorian era Themes: Newlyweds, trust, depending on each other Heat Rating: 4 flames Length: 61 000 words/204 pages Thunder Road is part of a series but can be read as a standalone. It does not end on a cliffhanger. Buy Links ![]() Can Simon and Vic end the deaths and disappearances, or have they finally found a foe too powerful to stop? Blurb Simon and Vic are home from their honeymoon, just in time for a brand new case! Mysterious missing person reports, a cursed motorcycle club, and an ancient entity add up to trouble. A bad bargain to stop a long-ago gang war requires a yearly sacrifice from a tightly-knit group of riders, and even their coven of witches hasn’t been able to stop the deaths. Then the granddaughter of a former lighthouse keeper comes to Simon for help. When the lighthouses were automated, they lost their live-in guardians, who worked protective spells to shield the coast from killer storms and a murderous creature. Those protections are fading, and an old evil has gained power, growing stronger with every life it claims. Can Simon and Vic end the deaths and disappearances, or have they finally found a foe too powerful to stop? Thunder Road is an action-packed MM paranormal romance chock full of old magic, protective guardians, found family, an ancient monster, brave motorcyclists, helpful ghosts, loyal friends, psychic visions, hurt/comfort, supernatural suspense, and an evolving, established romantic relationship with all the feels. Excerpt “For the amount of time we spent naked, we sure have a lot of dirty laundry,” Simon observed, looking at the overflowing basket. “How did that happen?” “It was too chilly to go out without clothing, and we didn’t want to get arrested.” Vic tossed another pair of socks into the pile. “Have you heard from Ross? Did the department survive without you? No crime sprees?” Vic rolled his eyes. “Myrtle Beach isn’t exactly known for its crime waves, but apparently, things stayed pretty quiet. Ross hasn’t given me a lot of details—said he’d fill me in when I went to the station. I think he’s doing his best to help me extend that honeymoon feeling as long as possible.” “Yeah, Pete keeps telling me that nothing much happened with the store.” Simon closed his empty suitcase and zipped it shut. “I mostly believe him, and I appreciate that he handled everything well on his own. But I guess we had to return to the real world sooner or later.” As much as Simon had relished the time away with Vic, he also liked running Grand Strand Ghost Tours and enjoyed helping people—living and dead—with his psychic abilities. He knew the value of being able to provide answers and closure, and his insights had brought killers to justice and solved long-cold murder cases. “Of course, we’re getting back just in time for the craziness that happens in the fall.” Vic set his empty suitcase aside. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that, but it is what it is. Motorcycle season is starting. That’s always busy—for good reasons and bad.” Myrtle Beach had been a favorite destination for motorcyclists and cycle clubs practically since the bikes were invented. Road rallies ended in town with celebrations on the Boardwalk. Cycle clubs held fall gatherings once the beaches weren’t quite as crowded and the temperatures more leather-friendly. Local cops cracked down on cars and cyclists cruising Ocean Boulevard, but people managed to make several passes before being shooed away and then returned. Bikes and bikers were a subject of conversation. Businesses appreciated the influx of visitors in the shoulder season—the months when the weather was warm, but most of the tourists had gone home. It picked up some of the slack from the exodus of beachgoers. Locals grumbled about traffic and noise, and some held outdated impressions that raised questions about crime or violence. As Vic frequently pointed out, thanks to how expensive good bikes had become, the average bike owner was forty-seven. Which was at odds with the perception of young toughs from fifties-era movies. Not that carousing didn’t happen, but the average rider was also married and much more likely to be an accountant or a doctor than a drifter. “It’s usually not the bikers causing the problems,” Vic said. “It’s the people who come to the bars to hang out and pretend. They’ve seen Roadhouse a few too many times and want to live the dream.” That usually meant they woke up hungover and needing bail. About the Author Morgan Brice is the romance pen name of bestselling author Gail Z. Martin. Morgan writes urban fantasy MM paranormal romance, with plenty of action, adventure and supernatural thrills to go with the happily ever after. Gail writes epic and urban fantasy, with less romance, more explosions. All of the modern-day Morgan Brice and Gail Z. Martin series crossover, so characters from one series appear in cameos and on page in important secondary roles in books from other series. Each book can be read as a standalone, but the more you read the more the expanded universe of friendships and connections becomes clear. Morgan and Gail believe that paranormal elements make any story even better, and her worlds are full of ghosts, psychics, shifters, creatures, vampires, monster hunters, and magic. She's also a huge fan of the TV show Supernatural. (Chibi art by Kamidiox) Author Links Website | Audible Profile | Amazon profile Facebook Group | Facebook Page Pinterest (for Morgan and Gail) | Twitter Sign up for my newsletter and never miss a new release Read a copy of my Badlands short story Restless Nights here for free ![]() Giveaway Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win a $10 Amazon Gift Card ![]() Brandon’s electrical field blew away from him in one short, quick burst. He slumped back, dizzy, and drained to the point he nearly passed out. He caught a glimpse of Bob jerking backward and landing flat on his ass on the floor with a grunt. The woman burst out laughing. Not the reaction Brandon expected. “Again, you fool, what the hell are you doing?” Bob clambered to his feet and started toward Brandon. A simple wave of one hand by the woman stopped Bob in his tracks. She narrowed her eyes and stalked closer to Brandon, casually slipping her hands into her side pockets. “Mr. Bob, tell me, what did you think you were doing?” She stopped beside Brandon, just inside his field of vision and put a hand lightly on his shoulder. An electrical charge radiated out of her to Brandon, steadily increasing until Brandon tried to duck away, clenching his teeth and gasping. “Was that what you thought you were doing?” she asked Bob. Bob shook his head. “That guy with him, a werewolf, he’d put his hands around this guy’s neck and…” Bob shrugged. “…controlled him somehow. I was trying—” The woman laughed again. “A child’s trick.” She took ahold of Brandon’s chin, her nails digging into his skin and short, low pulses of power came from her fingertips. “You’re a clever little boy.” She tightened her grip. Pain coursed along Brandon’s jaw and into his chest. Tears sprung to his eyes. The woman rolled her eyes and let go. “Clever, but a soft piece of shit.” She knelt in front of Brandon and stroked his cheek a few times. “Here’s the deal, you’re a specially trained scintilla. A little more talented than normal. Well, so am I. Except my training took a completely different course. Do you understand?” Brandon swallowed hard and whispered, “Yes.” “I thought you couldn’t hurt each other with your charge?” Bob asked. Brandon was interested in the answer to that question too. “There is a way around everything if one knows what to do and has the skills.” The woman stared down at Brandon, her lips twisted into a cruel smirk. “That little stunt would’ve killed a human who wasn’t scintilla. Even a werewolf would feel very painful effects.” She gave Brandon’s face a harsh pat. “Isn’t that right little boy?” Brandon nodded and glared at the floor. She spun the chair around and Brandon was facing the computer tower again. “Get it done.” She slapped her hand onto a piece of paper. “I-I c-can’t with t-the ch-chair m-m-moving.” BLOG TOUR ![]() Book Title: VINNY Author: Andy Siege Publisher: UpLit Press Release Date: July 2, 2024 Pairing: MM, MF, MT Tense/POV: A mix of tenses: first/third/present/past/single Genres: Sci-Fi/Futuristic/Dystopian Tropes: Forbidden love, friends to lovers Themes: Coming out, bisexual awakening, trans awakening Heat Rating: 3 flames Length: 40 000 words/180 pages It is a standalone book in the DIVERGENCY SERIES and does not end on a cliffhanger. Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited ![]() A sci-fi novella about Vincent van Gogh’s queer clone. Blurb 1888: A young prostitute opens a gift from a painter and discovers van Gogh’s bloody ear. Excerpt The painting van Gogh was working on depicted a group of prisoners walking in a circle around an oppressive prison yard. In the center of the painting was a convict that resembled van Gogh himself, and Peyron figured that the artist was expressing his own feelings of claustrophobia inside the asylum. The work was dominated by depressing tones of blue and green with splashes of red on some of the bricks that enclosed the prisoners. Peyron cleared his throat. “Monsieur van Gogh.” The artist jumped a little at the noise, but then kept painting. “You almost made me misplace a line, Doc.” “I apologize. Were you not able to sleep?” Van Gogh shook his head. “Not before finishing.” “Does painting help you?” Van Gogh turned around slowly and smiled. “It does.” “How does it help?” The artist scratched his red beard with a paint-speckled hand. “When I don’t paint, I worry about delusional things. But when I paint, I worry about the next drop of color. In this way my mind is occupied with logic when I paint.” Peyron nodded. “Thank you for putting it so well.” “Why are you awake, Doc?” “I dreamed something that upset me.” Van Gogh took a sip of water from a metal cup, spilling some of it onto his chest. He was wearing an open shirt and the droplets ran down across his belly, dampening the top of his pants. The painter had put on a little weight since coming to the asylum. A sign of increased health. Peyron also noticed himself getting aroused. Not a good sign under these circumstances. “I, um… I should go back upstairs,” the doc stammered. “No. Stay.” Van Gogh scratched himself just above his left nipple. “I’m a bit lonely.” The doc’s eyes lit up. He had been waiting for a sign from the painter and here was a sign. Peyron swallowed hard and then took a step forward. Van Gogh mirrored him and also stepped closer. The doc lifted his right hand and placed it on the painter’s chest. Van Gogh took the hand in his and their fingers entwined. Then the painter pulled Peyron towards him and the men kissed. Peyron could feel van Gogh’s stubble against his own clean-shaven face. Suddenly the painter pulled away. “No. I… I can’t do this.” “But… why?” “I’m not a pervert.” “Neither am I.” “Other people, all of them, they don’t understand.” Peyron remembered the crowd at the dock in Marseille. “I know.” He turned and walked away. About the Author Andy Siege born as Andreas Madjid Siege in Kenya in 1985 is an award-winning film director and writer. His debut feature film “Beti and Amare” which he wrote and directed was nominated for multiple high-profile international film awards. He has a BA in Creative Writing and an MA in Political Science. Andy Siege is also neurologically divergent and a member of the LGBTQ community. Author Link ![]() ![]() This week's snippet is from Endosymbiont, book 3 of The Vampire Guard. Madison picked up the camera, switched it on and aimed it at Jonas who stood placidly looking at the lens. “Well, what do you see?” Jonas asked. “There’s a heat signature, it’s a low one. But….” Madison lowered the camera far enough to look over the top. “What are you? Both of you?” He glanced at Declan then turned back to Jonas. Jonas took the camera and set it down. “Vampire. My normal body temperature is about ninety-two to ninety-three degrees Fahrenheit, so I—most vampires—will register in a thermal image. Except for under certain circumstances you can’t see one of us on camera or in a mirror. And even then, it’s limited.” “That’s why some of the limbs didn’t show up?” Madison asked. Jonas nodded. “And you were in World War Two?” There are more snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group. Endosymbiont is available in eBook and through Kindle Unlimited.
![]() Sheryl R. Hayes has a new MMF paranormal book out (bi, poly), Jordan Abbey book 3: Chaos Kin. In the town of Rancho Robles, can one werewolf protect the Children of the Wolf and the Bat? Chaos Wolf Jordan Abbey has made friends among the Black Oak Pack even though she refuses to join it. The same can’t be said of the vampires, but her life has taken a turn for the better. That is until Enya Blevins, sister to the werewolf who turned Jordan, arrives in Rancho Robles. She wants to know who killed her baby brother and is less than impressed by the Chaos Wolf. Enya wants revenge, starting with Jordan and ending with the vampires infesting the area. Jordan is prepared to flee, but a technicality makes her an Alpha Werewolf. Now she must stand her ground to protect her nascent Pack and those she loves. The past has come back to bite her. Does she have the fangs to bite back? About the Series: In the Northern California town of Rancho Robles where the Children of the Wolf and the Bat share an uneasy coexistence. One werewolf woman threatens to upset that balance. Universal Buy Link | Liminal Fiction | GoodreadsGiveaway: Sheryl is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour: Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47323/ Excerpt: "You ready for this?" Jordan nodded. She and Montgomery had pulled over three blocks from the entrance to the Black Oak Pack's compound for one last quick discussion. "Got the Uber request programmed in to meet me here. If things go wrong, we run." Montgomery shook his head, hand tightening on the steering wheel. "No, you run." Jordan's expression tightened. "I'm not leaving you." "Jordan, you have to run without me." Montgomery stared at her until she looked away. "I know you're afraid of what will happen to me. But they won't harm me. To do so is to risk open conflict with Elder Marcus." Jordan bit back her response. Alpha Shane may have a vested interest in living in peace with the Elder of the Conclave of Rancho Robles. That didn't mean that these strangers who came from far away would have the same desires. Add to the fact things were personal between Montgomery and Enya, and the odds were that they wouldn't be thinking about insulting the vampires in the area. She sighed and recited the plans they had come up with the night before. "If things go south, I run back to the Cataluña and wait for you or Thorn. If after twenty-four hours, neither of you show up, I ask Elder Marcus for help getting someplace safe. You and Thorn will join me once you're able to." Montgomery smiled and nodded. She noticed a tear in the corner of his eye. "Hopefully, it won't come to that." She didn't bother to say that he didn't sound like he believed it any more than she did. Jordan closed her eyes but lifted her head as she and Montgomery drove up to the gate of the Black Oak Pack's home territory. As if by mutual consent, neither of them spoke as Sentry Rodriguez waved them through. There was no point hashing out their plans further. In the next ten minutes, they would know if she would have to run and hide with her tail between her legs. The silence continued as they walked to the front door. Angela opened the door before she had a chance to knock on it, focusing on Jordan instead of Montgomery. The blonde blond werewolf arched her eyebrows in a question. Jordan shook her head ever so slightly. Angela's lips pressed together as she narrowed her eyes. Jordan could hear her thoughts. Why am I not surprised? Instead, she gestured them inside. "This way please." The entire pack was gathered, clumping together in little knots around the room. Pamela met her eyes and then turned her attention back to her conversation with Tran. Alpha Shane, Envoy Blevins, and Talespeakers stood by the cold, dark fireplace. Angela took her place with the rest of the younger people in the room. The tension in the room ramped up as the four highest-ranking werewolves focused on her and Montgomery. Alpha Shane dipped his head in greeting. "Chaos Wolf Abbey, Mr. Cooper." Enya was far less formal, not giving Montgomery and Jordan a chance to greet them. She assessed Jordan, head lifted so she stared down her nose. "Were you able to retrieve the fangs?" Jordan drew herself up to stand straight and as tall as she could. "No." Everyone around her tensed, which she expected. "This isn't her fault," Montgomery said. "She didn't know—" "Silence, vampire!" Enya snapped. Her focus was on Jordan as she paced forward. "It's not completely your fault. I blame you as much as I blame him." She nodded towards Alpha Shane. "And him." Her gaze turned towards Montgomery. Alpha Shane's shoulders hunched. He shifted his weight but said nothing. She felt her ears flatten, an impressive trick as she was in her human form. Jordan opened her mouth, trying to force her words through her snarl. To her surprise, Billy, Juan, Tran, and Maria surrounded her and Montgomery with Angela taking the point in front of Jordan. Jordan couldn't see her expression, but the young woman stood stiffly, legs apart, and fists braced on her waist. Confused, Jordan looked at Billy on her right, eyes wide. "What's going on?" she whispered as Montgomery put a hand on her shoulder. "We're saving your skin," he said. "Now, shush." Angela looked at Enya. "Jordan shouldn't be treated as a chaos wolf. She is—" “Angela!” Alpha Shane barked, glaring at her. His daughter didn't stop speaking. “—An alpha wolf in her own right." Author Bio Sheryl R. Hayes can be found untangling plot threads or the yarn her three cats have been playing with. She is equally likely to be shooing one of them off the keyboard as she is working on her novels and short stories. In addition to writing, she is a cosplayer focusing on knit and crochet costumes. Author Website: https://www.sherylrhayes.com Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/sherylreneehayes Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/sherylrhayes Author Mastodon: https://mastodon.online/@sherylrhayes Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sherylrhayes/ Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16468770.Sheryl_R_Hayes Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/sheryl-r-hayes/ Author Amazon: http://amazon.com/author/sherylrhayes ![]() Did you know that following your favorite authors on Bookbub is a great way to keep up to date on new releases and deals? And it doesn’t cost a penny?
We’re celebrating the new year with a new giveaway, where the more you follow, the better your chances! 🎉 Get started at https://tinyurl.com/PeachyNewYear, but act fast - the giveaway closes on January 19. Good luck, book lovers, and Happy New Year! 🎉 |
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