Eve Langlais ~ New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of romance, fantasy and more.
Menu
  • Books
    • Browse Books/Series
    • Audio
    • Store List
    • Coming Soon
    • Print List
  • Coming Soon
  • Français
  • Deutsche
  • Contact
    • Bio
  • Newsletter
Menu

Alien Mates

COMING SOON
loading images
LOADING IMAGES
Book Cover: Alien Mates
Part of the Alien Mate series:
  • Alien Mate
  • Alien Mate 2
  • Alien Mate 3
  • Alien Mates

Forget red and green. This Christmas is going to be blue—and sexy.

When a blue hunk suddenly appears in Colette’s office claiming he’s an alien who requires assistance locating suitable human females as mates, she ends up telling him to shove a candy cane where the sun doesn’t shine. Everyone knows ghosts and ETs aren’t real, not to mention this girl boss doesn’t have time for pranks—or a love life.

However, when Cade and his co-commander, Jaspar, prove they are indeed from another galaxy, she soon sees the opportunity to do something no one else Earth can—help them find brides. Just one problem. The US government are convinced the aliens are preparing to invade.

They’re not completely wrong.

It seems the blue hunks aren’t the only visitors, but the invading Krampusonians aren’t here to fall in love. They’re planning to ruin everyone’s Christmas.

Can a pair of blue warriors prove to humanity that not all aliens are bad? And if they do succeed, can they convince Colette she was meant to be their mate?

 

Available on: 2025-11-20
Cover Artists:
Yuro Ishi Art
Genres:
alien romance, fated mates, Menage/Polyamory, Romantic Comedy
Tags:
english
If you like Alien Mates, you might be interested in:
Book Cover: Tiger Mom

Tiger Mom

Book Cover: Last Minion Standing

Last Minion Standing

Book Cover: Sweeping Ashley

Sweeping Ashley

The Thirteenth Zodiac (Books 1 – 3)

COMING SOON
loading images
LOADING IMAGES
Book Cover: The Thirteenth Zodiac (Books 1 - 3)
Find a Store
Part of the The Thirteenth Zodiac series:
  • The Thirteenth Zodiac (Books 1 – 3)
  • Legend of Scorpio
  • Sins of Leo
  • Capture of Capricorn
  • Taurus’s Quest

Looking for a blend of science fiction and magic? This three-in-one collection features some epic heroes who are on a mission to save the world and end up falling in love.

For eons, the Zodiac Warriors, people blessed with powers by star deities, have secretly protected Earth from aliens, monsters and evil humans. When a prophecy sends them on their most challenging missions yet, they will learn that some of the toughest battles are of the heart.

Legend of Scorpio ~ Can Scorpio recover an ancient relic before it falls into the wrong hands? As if he’d fail! What’s less certain is if this bachelor is ready to relinquish the single life for love.

Sins of Leo ~ Leo’s barely holding on to his sanity. A mission is exactly the distraction he needs. What he doesn’t expect is to finally vanquish the shadows of his past and experience true happiness.

Capture of Capricorn ~ Infiltrating Area 51 to retrieve a relic might be the most dangerous mission yet, but Capricorn is always ready for a challenge. What he’s not prepared for? Falling in love.

These lighthearted, action-packed stories, will have you wishing upon a star for a warrior of your own.

Available on: 2025-10-16
Genres:
Action and Adventure, alien romance, anthology/boxset/collection, magic and sorcery, Romantic Comedy, Sci-Fi Romance
Tags:
english
If you like The Thirteenth Zodiac (Books 1 - 3), you might be interested in:
Book Cover: Halfway There

Halfway There

Book Cover: Aramus

Aramus

Book Cover: Steel Wolf

Steel Wolf

Serving My Dragon

COMING SOON
loading images
LOADING IMAGES
Book Cover: Serving My Dragon
Find a StoreGooglePlayApple BooksBarnes and NobleKoboAmazon/Kindle
Part of the The Dragocracy Chronicles series:
  • Training My Human
  • Serving My Dragon
  • Taming My Human

My name is Matias and my life has become a soap opera since a bossy dragon adopted me.

I found a half-drowned lizard while hiking, but the hungry reptile isn’t the only thing I picked up in Charcani Chico. Kayleigh, a beautiful and curvy woman with amnesia, needs my help, too.

Somehow, they both end up living in my house and that’s where the craziness starts. First off, turns out the little lizard I came across is a dragon. How do I know? Because she told me! Yes, my little Pollita can talk, and she’s making grandiose plans for the future.

If I can keep her safe.

That won’t be easy because it turns out Kayleigh’s amnesia wasn’t caused by an accident. Someone tried to murder her because she was a witness to Pollita’s attempted kidnapping.

To keep both Pollita and Kayleigh safe, we end up hiding out in the jungle for a while. However, trouble ends up finding us in our piece of paradise.

Who knew that serving a tiny, demanding dragon would have me living out my very own telenovela? Bring on the danger, drama, and excitement, because I’m ready to face it all for love.

Find a Store

Available on: 2025-08-14
Cover Artists:
Alex with Addictive Covers (Website)
Genres:
dark humor, dragon romance, Paranormal Romance, Romantic Comedy
Tags:
english
Excerpt:

Prologue

Ah, the sweet heat of magma roasting my shell. I squirmed inside my egg, knowing my hatching neared. I’d waited long enough. I couldn’t measure time while nestled in my cocoon, but having dreamed for so long, I would wager many years had passed since my maternal progenitor dropped me in a volcano.

It was the fate of all unhatched to be at the mercy of the erratic cycle of volcanoes. Some erupted with regularity, others without warning, some never. At least mine finally proved fruitful. Soon I would burst into the world and claim my territory.

My shell began to thin and cracks appeared. In my excitement I flailed, pushing at the weak spots, bursting free from my egg. I emerged in a river of lava. So warm and cozy. I could have floated in it forever, but my tummy rumbled, demanding I feed.

READ MORE

Despite just hatching and having rather weak limbs, I swam to the edge of the magma river flowing downward and clambered out. A shake of my body dispelled the molten rock before it could harden. My inherited memories let me know this would have been unpleasant.

The air smelled of sulfur and smoke and I inhaled deeply. My first breaths. How marvelous. While the area around the volcano had a distinct lack of anything edible—only charred stumps, for the most part—in the distance, I spotted greenery. Trees! Where there was foliage there would be life. The crunchy, yummy, belly-filling kind.

I waddled as fast as my short legs would go—the only choice being walking, as my kind didn’t hatch with wings—and tired quickly as my newly-hatched muscles protested. It would take time and food to build my strength. The latter being the simplest thing to accomplish quickly.

The jungle canopy filtered some of the smoke and ash from the air. Pity, as I quite enjoyed the aroma. I trudged through the foliage, listening for movement, sniffing and looking for a sign of something edible nearby.

None of the animal traces were recent, leaving me to grab what fruit I could find lying on the ground and flourishing in bushes. Nutritious, but lacking the muscle-building benefit of meat.

I hunted, moving further into the jungle, and my senses became more attuned as I digested my first meal. When my hearing sharpened, I realized something was following me.

Who would dare hunt a dragon?

Probably something looking to destroy me before I became too strong. It was ever a weakness of our kind to be hatched so small and ineffectual.

A glance at a tree showed a branch suitable for watching. I clambered upwards, my claws short but still enough to give me purchase. Perched upon a limb, I waited.

Crack. Murmur. Not an animal tracking me, but humans; the question being, were they the kind that worshipped dragons or those that sought to murder us?

A cluster of people paused under my tree. Two females and five males wearing strange garments. What country had I landed in that women wore trousers? My memories had females usually dressed in gowns of some sort.

The women, their heads encased in strange hats and veils, chattered. The males huddled in a group to converse. The language they used resembled nothing from my inherited collective. That would make giving them orders difficult. Hard to make a servant obey if they didn’t understand.

Then again, these most likely weren’t the serving type. I noticed one of the males had a metallic cage strapped to his back while the others held strange devices in their hands.

A thickset male pulled out a finger-sized white stick and put a flame to the end. This caused the smaller woman to go into a harangue. The male sucked on the white tube and blew smoke in her face. The petite one grew even more irate. She gesticulated and became quite strident. Surprisingly, the men didn’t slap her or make her stop, and of more interest, the one smoking extinguished his white stick. Fascinating. Had I hatched near a matriarchal society? Not very common, but encouraging, given my sex.

The curvier female took a turn speaking and pointing in the direction from which they’d arrived. That led to much head shaking. A male grabbed his groin and thrust his hips, which in turn resulted in the woman huffing and turning her back on him.

The comedy of it had me snickering.

And they heard.

The petite female glanced upward and spotted me despite the veil she wore over her face and eyes. She pointed and yelled in that unfamiliar language leading everyone to stare at me, but did they gape in admiration? Nope. I quickly discovered the strange objects the males held could fire missiles! Not very well, as it turned out, since the small, tufted arrows missed me. Still, I did not wait to see if they would get better. I leapt to another limb and raced across it, jumping again at its tip to grab at the next branch on another tree.

The humans followed.

Perhaps if I’d not been newly hatched, or had properly fed, I’d have had the stamina to outpace them. Alas, I tired too quickly. I encountered even more ill luck as the line of trees ended. As did the ground. I scampered down the trunk and raced to the edge of the cliff and peered down.

So far down.

A river ran below, dotted with rocks. The sheer face of the bluff showed few handholds, the rock not permeable enough for me to grip with my small claws.

The noise of my enemy crashing through brush alerted me to their imminent arrival. A glance showed them emerging from the jungle, spread out in a line.

Two of them held out the tiny arrow launchers while another unstrapped the cage. The tallest of the males crouched and walked towards me, crooning, as if I’d suddenly meekly allow myself to be captured.

The curvy female inserted herself in front of him, her hand waving, her tone angry.

He yelled back and took a menacing step towards her.

Perhaps the women didn’t have power over the males after all.

When the man would have stalked past her to reach me, the female grabbed hold of his arm. The male, his expression twisted in anger, grabbed hold of her and shoved. Shoved hard enough the woman stumbled and kept reeling right over the edge of the cliff.

This predictably led to the other female wailing as she tore at her veil, screaming as she hit her knees.

In my distraction, I’d not been paying the other males any mind.

An arrow launched and as I jerked to avoid it, my foot slipped and I lost my balance. For a second I teetered, then I fell. Plummeted fast. If I had my wings, I would have swooped to safety.

But I was but newly hatched. Not even a day old. Unfed. Weak. Undeniably unlucky.

I hit the water hard and knew no more.

Chapter 1

It had been a good day’s hike, and I dropped my knapsack on the ground as I surveyed the shore of the river snaking through Charcani Chico. The view never failed to calm. Just what I’d needed after the insane hours I’d been putting in at work.

When I’d gone to study dentistry at Cayetano Heredia Peruvian University in the city of Lima—a sixteen-hour drive that meant not visiting home often during those years, breaking Mama’s heart—I’d been excited to open my practice in Villa de Cayma where I’d been born and raised. I’d understood I’d probably be busy, I just never realized how insane it would get, especially since I did my best to keep costs reasonable, and in some cases, didn’t charge at all. For the families who couldn’t afford it, I usually provided care in exchange for a service. Like Luis, in pain because of a rotten root. He handled my garden. Or Maria, who’d needed several cavities filled. She repaid me by keeping my home clean—mine not Mama’s who’d been greatly offended when I made the offer.

But being so busy and trying to find ways to pay the bills when many of my clients provided food, goods, or service instead did take a toll. It was Mama who took one look at me and said, “You need a vacation.”

“I can’t,” I’d replied, already thinking of the long hours I’d have to put in the next week.

“You will, because if you don’t, you’ll be useless like your papa.”

It should be known my father was dead. Died of a heart attack at forty-nine because, as Mama lamented, “He wouldn’t listen and worked himself into an early grave.” Actually, his bad heart had been the true cause, but Mama did have a point. Burnout did happen, so I cleared my calendar for a week. A week where I’d have no one to answer to but myself. Seven days of hiking and reconnecting with nature, something I’d not done in years. I’d almost cancelled when Misti erupted. However, the volcano quickly settled and the winds kept the ash clouds away.

The emergency alert for the area didn’t last long. The government wasn’t eager to lose the tourism dollars they raked in from the Andes, which drew even more visitors with the eruption.

While environmental scientists claimed the area and waters safe, I’d been warned by Papa’s sister, Tía Carmelita, not to eat any fish as they could be contaminated with evil spirits. She claimed the volcano god Solimana was showing his displeasure at all the sinning happening in the world. The older members of my family tended to believe in the old legends. Me, not so much.

I chose to hike along the Rio Chili, the route popular with those looking for outdoor adventure. It ran through Charcani Chico, a canyon with breathtaking views that did much to reenergize my tired spirit as I spent days trekking its length.

Late afternoon, two days before I had to return to reality, I set up camp, knowing that this time of year dusk would arrive shortly, and I wanted to bathe before then so I could enjoy the sunset. I cleared an area of debris, using the rocks to form a ring to build a fire. It took me a bit longer to scrounge out some branches for kindling, not that I worried about getting cold. It was more about keeping the wildlife at bay. With that set up, I laid out my oversized sleeping bag—which I’d likely have to shake before I crawled in, in case any insects decided it looked comfy.

I’d heard my lack of tent and other amenities was called “wild camping.” I preferred it to the commercialized excursions offered to tourists that involved fancy tents with bendable poles that exploded into mini houses. Portable stoves. Inflatable mattresses. They even toted around composting toilets!

Personally, I preferred to interact with nature on a more basic level, hence I slept on the ground under the stars and did my business in the bushes or dug a hole.

I stripped out of my damp, sweat-drenched shirt and shorts but kept on my tight-fitting briefs and boots. Only an idiot—or someone who enjoyed leeches between their toes—went barefoot in Peruvian waters.

As I neared the shoreline with my shirt, which I’d decided to rinse and hang to dry overnight, my attention was caught by a lump splayed over the pebbles. A lizard-like creature had washed ashore, limp and unmoving. Most likely dead. I could have left it alone, but who knew what kind of carrion feeder it would draw. Skunk spray had nothing on vulture vomit.

Rather than touch it barehanded, I returned to my pack for some gloves. Nothing worse than digging your fingers into rotting flesh. I might have a stomach of steel, but some things made even a grown man’s gorge rise.

I returned to the small lizard, a type I’d never seen before, its skin a grayish hue. As I went to push the body into the water so it could continue downstream, it twitched. I withdrew my hand. Not dead after all but definitely injured.

What to do? Tío Santiago would claim I should leave it to the circle of life and allow it to die either of its injuries or because something would come along and eat it. However, to Mama’s annoyance, I’d been the kid who brought home all kinds of injured creatures growing up. A bird with a broken wing that I splinted and set free only to see it eaten by a condor. The mangy dog Bruno who’d been my companion for four years. The toad who’d lasted a whole summer before he mysteriously disappeared, coincidentally before Tía Consuela’s frog leg bake.

It had been a long time, though, since I’d taken in a stray. My life didn’t have room or time for a pet. A wild lizard wasn’t a domesticated animal, though, meaning it wouldn’t be a long-term commitment for me. Chances were, soon as it felt better it would scurry off. And if it didn’t, then on my way back I could drop it off at a wildlife sanctuary for them to handle.

I scooped up the reptile carefully, its body small and frail, but warm. I cradled it to my chest and brought it to my sleeping bag where I sat with it in my lap. I took a moment to carefully examine its limbs for any breakage or wounds. It seemed intact, and despite my lack of knowledge about lizard genitalia, most likely female.

Given her location by the shore, I concluded she must have fallen in the water and almost drowned. While she did seem to be breathing, I held her chest to my ear to see if I heard any gurgling in her lungs. Seemed okay, but just in case, I draped her over my shoulder, head hanging down so that gravity could pull out any moisture that might be trapped in her lungs. Right thing to do? No idea, but at least it felt logical.

I rubbed the lizard’s back much like you would a baby to get them to burp. In my case, it puked. Right down my bare spine. I grimaced. Good thing I hadn’t bathed or dressed yet. I strode with my little rescue back to the water and sank down to my haunches to submerge my lower half. I kept a hand on my rescue while the other scooped water and splashed the mess on my flesh. A few drops landed on the lizard, and she stirred, making a grunting noise.

Not wanting to be shredded by a waking and panicked wild reptile, I quickly waded to shore and gently placed her on the ground. I remained crouched and watched as she twitched and opened her eyes.

Two big, jewel-like orbs stared at me. Hunh. I’d never realized lizard eyes could be so pretty.

Since she kept looking at me, I smiled and softly said in Spanish, my native tongue, “Hello, pollita.” A word that meant little chickie.

She blinked.

“I hope you’re feeling better. You weren’t looking so good when I found you.”

The lizard sat up, obviously weak given how she wavered, the size of her barely more than my palm. She chattered in my direction, a surprise since I’d assumed lizards only ever hissed or flicked their tongues.

“I see you have much to say.” The corners of my eyes crinkled as I smiled. “Are you hungry?” I left her to dig into my pack, pulling forth a ripe lucuma. When I turned, I found the lizard only a pace behind me.

“Hold on while I cut it open.” I used my pocketknife to slice it in half before I crouched and held out the fruit. “Here.” I had no idea whether she’d even realized it could be eaten. I had little experience with lizards. Mama couldn’t abide reptiles or mice and had been known to chase them from the house with a broom while cursing them.

The dainty lizard grabbed the fruit and eyed it, then me.

I bit into the soft flesh. “Mmm. Good.”

Apparently, my action satisfied, for she stuck her face into it and took a bite. A bite that turned into a frenzy that left me open-mouthed as she finished it in seconds and held out her paws for the other half.

I handed it over, wondering how she could possibly eat any more given her size. Apparently, she must have been hungry, for the other half disappeared just as quickly. The lizard then stared at me and made a noise. A fanciful person would have imagined she asked for more.

“Let me see what else I have.” I dug into my bag and pulled out a bag of coconut chips. I sprinkled a bit on the ground and Pollita took one and sniffed it. Once more, I showed her it was edible by tossing a few in my mouth and crunching. That seemed to satisfy her, and the pile I’d given disappeared. Wouldn’t you know, she held out her paws, flexing the clawed fingers demandingly.

“Hungry girl,” I said with a laugh but I shook my head. “I think you’ve eaten enough for now. You don’t want to make yourself sick.” I tucked the snack away in my sack. “Let me get changed out of my wet bottoms and we’ll watch the sunset.”

The lizard crossed her arms and I’d swear she sulked. It made me curious as to what type of reptile she was. Tío Juan, my mother’s brother, who loved the outdoors, would have probably known.

I changed into dry shorts and then took my bottoms and shirt to the river to rinse them before hanging them on a bush to hopefully dry overnight. The lizard remained in my mini campsite, watching me. I’ll admit to being surprised she hadn’t run off. Could she be someone’s pet? It would explain why she had no fear of a human.

Given I didn’t want to scare her, I forwent lighting the fire and instead sat on my sleeping bag—after giving it a vigorous shake—in time for the sky’s change of color. The beauty of the sunset never failed to awe me. And this time I had someone watching it with me. To my surprise, the lizard crawled onto my legs and chose my lap to settle in. My hand lightly rested on her back, gently rubbing, noting a pair of strange lumps along her spine. She especially liked it when I rubbed the top of her head. The little pollita craned her head, uttering a sound that reminded me a of a purring cat.

When I slid into my sleeping bag, she crawled in with me, a warm bundle draped over my neck.

I woke at dawn, not because of the rising sun, but because of a lizard tapping my cheeks, chittering and shaking the empty bag of coconut chips.

Apparently, my little pollita was hungry again.

And she didn’t share.

COLLAPSE
Find a StoreGooglePlayApple BooksBarnes and NobleKoboAmazon/Kindle
If you like Serving My Dragon, you might be interested in:
Book Cover: Seth

Seth

Book Cover: Capturing a Unicorn

Capturing a Unicorn

Book Cover: Tiger Mom

Tiger Mom

Training My Human

loading images
LOADING IMAGES
Book Cover: Training My Human
Find a StoreApple BooksGooglePlayKoboAmazon/KindleBarnes and Noble
Part of the The Dragocracy Chronicles series:
  • Training My Human
  • Serving My Dragon
  • Taming My Human

So it turns out dragons are real.

I never suspected the lava rock I threw into the firepit was actually an egg. I’m blown away when it hatches to reveal a reptile with a voracious appetite. Cute little bugger, until it learns to talk.

The bossy critter thinks he can order me around. Claims he’s a dragon. Says when he grows strong enough, he wants to rule the world. I say go ahead. He can’t do any worse than our current politicians.

However, his plans for planetary domination have hit a slight snag. Seems my little fella—who grumbles that I’m not honoring him properly—is wanted by the government. Or so the goons that show up on my property claim. I have my doubts as to their identities. Even if they’re telling the truth, I’m not about to hand over my new pet, but how’s a woman who inks tattoos for a living supposed to keep a dragon safe? The local pet shop owner—hunky, plaid-wearing Maddox—has a few ideas, but my little dragon isn’t keen on running.

Can I keep my dragon out of the clutches of those who’d steal him for personal gain? And if we do have to flee, will Maddox come too? I need all the help I can get with figuring out life with the lizard.

*

Humans. Bah. They’ve gotten uppity since my maternal progenitor conceived my egg. It will take much training before the female I’ve commandeered is suitable for service.

So much for her to learn, starting with proper meals. She tried to feed me bugs as if I were a simple lizard! Then she dared to abandon me so she could work—incentive for me to build my hoard so she can devote her time fully to me. I’ve allowed her distraction with the male, but only because he will serve me too, and sooner than he thinks, since my enemies are already closing in.

But they’ll learn a dragon, even one newly hatched, is a force to be reckoned with, and if you mess with those I’ve claimed, you will face my wrath!

Find a Store

 

Published: 2025-05-15
Cover Artists:
Alex with Addictive Covers (Website)
Genres:
Action and Adventure, dragon romance, Paranormal Romance, Romantic Comedy, Urban Fantasy
Tags:
english
Excerpt:

Chapter 1

A rumble shook the building and wobbled my seat just as I began delicately shading a tattoo. The jostling dragged the ink-filled tip across the flesh in a dark, unsightly line, making me silently curse.

How the fuck was I supposed to fix an error of that extent? The dark mark couldn’t be camouflaged, since it stretched across the cheek of the portrait being tattooed on Bruno’s arm.

I should probably worry about that later since the building was still shaking, leading Leo, my boss, to holler, “Everyone outside.”

Probably a good idea. Our old, retrofitted shop hadn’t been built to withstand tremors of that magnitude.

“Earthquake or gas explosion?” I questioned as everyone in the shop suddenly booked it for the door.

READ MORE

A valid question. The last time the Earth moved under me wasn’t because the guy I was banging at the time was any good but because some idiot without a license to operate heavy machinery struck a utility pipe while doing construction.

Leo pursed his lips as he waited for our clients to stop fighting over who would exit first. “You forgot the third possibility.”

I hadn’t. I had purposely chosen to not mention giant tunnelling worms. That was my boss’s obsession, not mine.

My client, Bruno, won the battle at the door and skedaddled first, followed by Marie—another regular—who didn’t seem to notice or care she’d emerged topless. Then again, someone who wanted tattoos on her breasts intended to show them off.

Outside the shop, people filled the streets as they evacuated businesses and homes before any collapsed. Many faces wore looks of fear, but some held curiosity. A cacophony filled the air comprised of the rattling structures, rocking cars, and heavily vibrating signs. Underlying that was another sound that kind of reminded me of a train roaring by. It caused the same booming effect, only we had no rails nearby.

The purple-haired Kalypso, who answered our phones and acted as our receptionist, held out her arms and slightly bent her knees, squealing, “Ride the wave! Whoo!”

An avid surfer, I never understood why she chose to settle in Terrace, British Columbia where the closest place to toss down a board required a more than twenty-hour drive to Tofino.

“Those idiots in parliament finally started a war. We’ve been bombed!” someone yelled a few paces from me while pointing across the way.

A glance in the indicated direction showed a billowing cloud of black smoke in the distance.

Leo leaned close to murmur, “That’s not a bomb. The Tseax Cone erupted.”

My brow furrowed. “Can’t be. They’ve been saying for ages that volcano was dead.”

“Guess they were wrong.”

My boss might have figured it out first, but it didn’t take long before others realized what happened and panic ignited.

It started with one person screaming, “We’re going to die. Run for your lives.”

Then another yodeled, “The end is nigh.”

In seconds, the stampede commenced.

Having never been one to sheepishly follow the herd, I shifted so my back pressed against the tattoo shop. It seemed safer than getting tangled in the mob moving in a dense wave on the street. I’d been to concerts where that kind of thing ended up badly—a.k.a. trampled. I preferred to not get trod upon. At least the ground had stopped shaking. However, the ominous dark cloud in the distance grew and spread.

A nicotine addict, Leo pulled out a cigarette—the home-rolled kind with a little something green added to the tobacco—and took a long pull before drawling, “Damn. Never thought I’d see Tseax erupt.”

“Me either.” I frowned. “I thought it was supposed to be dormant.” I’d lived in the area my whole life and while the local Nisga’a tribes told stories about the last time Tseax erupted a few hundred years ago, it had been considered a rare thing unlikely to happen again.

“Mother nature loves to fuck with know-it-all scientists,” Leo stated, puffing away.

The lack of shaking didn’t improve the hysteria level infesting people. Cars revved and tires screeched as they tried to speed away only to have to scream to a stop because people were jaywalking on the road. The chaotic desperation caused instant gridlock.

“Doesn’t look like we’re going anywhere soon,” I stated while glancing at Leo.

“Nope.” He offered me a drag from his medicinal cigarette.

Why not? I took a long pull and exhaled before saying, “Think we need to worry?”

“Depends on how bad the eruption is and how far it spreads. Given we’re sixty clicks away, ash clouds are probably of more concern than a lava flow.”

“I thought magma could roll at, like, speeds of up to thirty kilometers an hour?”

“In the right conditions and usually because the volcano is steep. Tseax ain’t that tall.”

“But still managed to wipe out a few Nisga’a tribes that last time,” I reminded.

“Yeah, the lava reached the river where they had their villages, but it took a few days. They say the high death toll most likely came from the fumes poisoning the air.” Leo pursed his lips as he took another drag. “Chances are anyone within fifty or more clicks will have to vacate their homes until the lava specialists figure out what’s going on.”

My lips pinched as I watched the dark smudge in the sky spreading. “Fuck me. I guess I’m not going home tonight.” I lived about thirty kilometers outside Terrace, in a trailer inherited from my grandmother. Nothing fancy, and I rather liked my remote spot and lack of neighbors. But that plot of land would likely be within the quarantined radius.

“You can bunk at my place if you need to. You know I got the space,” Leo offered. He lived in the opposite direction, about twenty or so minutes outside of the city. My head-to-toe inked boss might look like he should be living in a cramped shithole apartment in the bad part of town, but Leo came from money. His inherited home was a ranch situated on a few hundred acres. Not that he personally farmed. He paid people to harvest his fruit trees and rented out his barns and land for grazing. But the best part? My paranoid boss had the most insane security system in place to keep his shit secure.

“Might be we’re worrying for nothing.”

Saying it aloud jinxed it. My phone began blaring along with everyone else’s in the vicinity. The emergency alert launched quicker than expected and advised anyone receiving the message to evacuate. It went on to list all the places that might be in the path of the coming ash cloud—and yeah, my home was smack dab in there. The warning text also had words like calm, orderly, don’t panic. Might as well have been fuel, given what ignited in its aftermath.

If I thought people were frenzied before, they doubled, tripled, quadrupled down. People randomly began wailing. A few hit their knees and prayed. Those caught in unmoving cars honked and when that didn’t move traffic thought getting out to yell, pound hoods, and shake fists would work. We also heard glass smashing and a glance showed the window of the jewelry shop broken and someone slipping inside. Why was it calamities immediately brought out the looters?

Needless to say, despite the alert advising us to leave, Leo and I took our time while the rabidly worried sorted themselves out. Along with Kalypso, we went inside the shop and shut down all the machines before grabbing everything that would fit into the back of Leo’s Suburban, which ended up being a shit ton, given the massive space. Kalypso rescued our collection of cacti, loading them into her Volkswagen beetle. Whereas my vintage Yamaha Virago 750, with its saddlebags, carried our albums of designs and past artwork.

When the streets unclogged, and with the cloud creeping closer, we vacated the shop and the city of Terrace, driving in a line behind Leo, who had to maneuver in a few spots as people who ran out of gas or encountered engine trouble abandoned their cars. Despite feeling like a bit of an ass, we ignored those trying to wave us down. I’d seen apocalypse movies. I knew what might happen. A good Samaritan would stop, offer some aid, and find themselves stranded when their vehicle got stolen.

Luckily, the evacuation zone remained just short of Leo’s ranch. With more than ten bedrooms, it had more than enough space for me, Kalypso, and a few of Leo’s friends.

While the Tseax Cone stopped spewing after one day, it took a bit longer before Terrace and the environs were considered safe for return.

I’m not ashamed to admit I spent that week mostly drunk and high. Being a bit of an end-of-times nut, Leo actually kept a ridiculously large stash of booze and dope along with food. Quality shit, I might add. Good times were had, but the fun eventually ended and I couldn’t help a bit of dread as I wondered at the state of my home.

Upon seeing it, my first thought was it could have been worse. White and gray powder did cover some parts of the property, the wind having blown it into drifts, and it kicked up in puffs when I tracked through. I wore a bandanna over my mouth and nose to avoid breathing any of the dust. Sure, the news claimed those with healthy respiratory systems would likely suffer no ill effect, but I took no chances. My lungs might be tainted by nicotine and Mary Jane, but even I had a line with my health that I didn’t cross. Call me weird. I was okay with it.

No lava reached my place. However, a surprising number of lava rocks had bombed the property. The worst damage appeared to be on the roof of my trailer, where the biggest volcanic missile landed. It left a huge dent, but luckily did not pierce it. Inside my trailer, only a fine layer of dust had penetrated and I got to work scrubbing everything down and bagging the clothing and bedding that I’d have to wash. At least I didn’t need to rely on a laundromat. My lean-to held an ancient, gold-colored washer and dryer which made a god-awful racket when run, but unlike today’s newer models, they could take a beating and keep on working. I ran a rinse cycle on it first to make sure it was actually clean before I started a load.

The outside didn’t require me to do much because an hour after I arrived, the rain came. It drenched the area for the next two days and cleansed the land. Or as my grandma would have said, That fucker God is having a piss. She didn’t hold religion in high esteem and called it a bunch of kooky nonsense.

Me? I identified as agnostic. I remained open to belief but wanted proof. Old books written a zillion years ago and old men in fancy robes didn’t convince me.

After the week of partying, I enjoyed the time alone, although I did also itch to get back to work. While Terrace had been cleared for people to return, the tattoo shop hadn’t yet reopened. Leo hired some cleaners to come in and thoroughly sterilize the place. Last thing he wanted was a lawsuit because someone claimed they got an infection. We’d be busy when we reopened though. Our website had been bombarded with requests for new ink, many of them volcano themed. I’d be using this time off to create some designs for clients to choose from. The drone footage of Tseax proved inspiring. The cone showed rivulets of magma flowing erratically in a patchwork down its sides.

When the rain finally relented, I exited my spotless trailer and began tidying my yard. And by tidy, I meant gathering all the rocks that landed in it, from pebble-sized to fist. I tossed them all into my firepit. I saved the one on the roof for last since I had to climb and I really didn’t like heights. Hated them so much I debated leaving it there, but I knew that lava stones tended to be porous and with all the rain soaking it, might get heavy enough to actually crack the top of my trailer. Last thing I needed was a leak.

So I put on my big girl panties—thongs for the curious, or as granny called them, ass flossers—and clutched that ladder tight as I climbed. I didn’t look anywhere but at my hands as I crawled to the massive dent that held the largest stone of all. Unlike the other jagged chunks, this one, while rough on the outside, was oval-shaped and too big to easily carry down so I tossed it.

To my surprise, it didn’t crack. I placed it in the firepit with the others and then grimaced. It stood out due to its size. To break it up, I grabbed my hatchet and used the blunt end to hammer at it. A few pieces of stone flaked off, but the thing remained whole for the most part. Maybe a few fires would soften it up enough it would split apart.

Over the next few weeks, I worked my ass off and came home exhausted. Meaning I did little but slump into a chair with a cold brew. Given the nice summer evenings, I spent my wind down time outside by the firepit, which I used to make dinner instead of my stove because the air conditioner worked like shit and I wasn’t about to make the trailer any hotter. I kept my meals simple. Weenies on a skewer. Burgers on a grill. Steak. Steak. And more steak. I did so love my meat.

And so did the creature that stole food off my plate!

Chapter 2

Let me back up a second.

There I sat, comfortably ensconced in an Adirondack—which for the unknowing is the most comfortable outdoor chair you can have—with a big, toasty fire going, hot enough the big lava rock that sat in the middle of the pit glowed a bright orange.

I’d treated myself to a nice fatty ribeye, which I’d seasoned and threaded onto a skewer and held in the crackling flames. I like my meat singed on the outside, the outer fat crispy but the inside red and juicy. When I had it just the way I liked it, I stood and slapped it on a plate just as something in the fire went crack and loud hissing ensued.

I whirled with my plate still in hand, and sure enough, the big rock had finally split into chunks. It must have had moisture trapped inside given the steam that erupted.

Cool.

I plopped back in my chair, plate balanced on my knees, and grabbed my can of Coors from the cupholder. As I swigged, the thief struck. A clawed paw reached out and snagged my steak.

I blinked. Steak was still gone. Not cool. I’d been looking forward to eating it.

My annoyance vanished as I saw what stole it. A lizard the size of a kitten sat on the edge of the fire pit, which made its theft of the steak—bigger than it was—even more comical.

Until it scarfed down that entire hunk of meat.

I mean, like how? The steak had to weigh as much, if not more, than the little reptile. Yet its jaw essentially unhinged and nom, nom, bye-bye dinner.

It belched more loudly than expected, given its diminutive size. I almost laughed at its suddenly very rounded belly.

The lizard then proceeded to speak, or so my beer-addled brain insisted, chattering in a steady stream that made no sense, but almost resembled a language.

“Slow down, little fella,” I crooned, kind of fascinated. British Columbia had its share of reptilian wildlife, but despite being born and raised in this area, I’d never seen a creature like this who seemed unafraid of fire. I worried about its perch so close to the flames. Despite it stealing my dinner, I’d hate to see the little fella barbequed.

It continued to harangue me in its chirping lizard voice while waving its paws. Or was it claws? I couldn’t tell you the proper term, but it was cute.

It patted its belly and my eyes widened. That I understood. “Sorry, that was my entire dinner. There’s no more.” I pointed to my plate and shook my head. Again, I blamed the booze for thinking I was conversing with the lizard. Or maybe I’d accidentally tossed something on the fire and was currently tripping, as in gone on a spiritual, hallucinogenic journey. Granny used to indulge in those. Usually naked. Good thing we didn’t have neighbors.

“Speaking of dinner, some of us are still hungry. Guess I’ll have to see what’s in the fridge.”

Not much. The grocery stores had been double tapped, first with having to toss a bunch of stuff in case of contamination, and then again when their stock got wiped out by people panic buying. It reminded me of the toilet paper shortage during the Covid lockdowns.

I’d lucked out on the steak only because I knew a farmer. In exchange for meat and eggs, I kept a running credit for Bart so he could get his dream tattoo. Currently, he had his left arm inked to look like a Nisga’a totem. We’d be doing his right arm next, which meant lots more steaks for me.

As I rose from my seat, I chugged my beer and crushed the can before tossing it in the recycling bin I kept by the trailer door. I entered my cramped home and sighed. I already knew my fridge only held a hunk of molding cheese and a potato growing eyes. At least the freezer had ice cream. Wouldn’t be the first time I did dessert for dinner—or breakfast.

I snared the half-eaten quart along with a spoon and collapsed on the plaid-covered bench that some would generously call a couch. I wasn’t one of those people. I could have retrofitted the trailer like some folks did, tearing out the built-in furniture to replace it with the real thing, but I’d been saving my money and effort because I wanted to build myself a real home. A place without wheels that didn’t rock in strong winds, made of something other than aluminum and vinyl. Granny used to scoff at my dream, saying she preferred the freedom to live wherever she wanted, never realizing the irony in having spent her entire life in one spot.

Scratch.

I glanced at the door with a frown.

Scri-t-t-ch.

The odd noise came again and my curious ass, which obviously never learned any lessons from horror movies, went to check it out. I opened to find Mr. Lizard on the threshold. It hopped right on in and scouted the place as if it belonged.

“Well, hello again. Making yourself at home, are we?”

The reptile waddled about, sniffing and craning, peering at everything. I could have shooed it out, but with my mellow buzz, it seemed like a bunch of effort for a harmless creature. Besides, it was kind of entertaining.

As I sucked ice cream off my spoon, I studied it. The grayish leathery skin and its sinuous tail that swished. It had two nubs along its back and when it bent over to sniff under my stove, dangly bits that marked it a boy. And before anyone comments, I thought reptiles kept their dicks and balls tucked. Maybe this little fella preferred airing his out.

I finished my ice cream and rose to put the empty container in the garbage when the little critter whipped around and cocked its head. A forked tongue flicked, and it jabbered.

“I don’t understand,” I stated with a shrug.

I swear to fuck, it looked annoyed. It pointed at me. No wait, the ice cream carton.

“You wanna taste, little fella?” If it wanted to lick it clean, go ahead. I just hoped it wasn’t lactose intolerant. Cleaning up lizard diarrhea didn’t exactly scream fun.

The lizard cautiously stuck its head in the carton and must have liked what he tasted because next thing I knew his whole body disappeared, and the carton rolled around on the floor as the little fella went to town.

Entertaining but not enough to keep me awake. A yawn cracked my jaw and I stretched. “Bedtime for me. I’ve got a full back tattoo to do tomorrow.” In other words, a full freaking day hunched over with intense focus. I needed my rest. My pillow called and I answered, falling asleep quickly, waking only when my alarm went off.

However, rather than roll out of bed, I lay still, for my new friend lay snuggled against me, his tail wrapped around his body. And was it me, or did he seem bigger? Probably needed to shit out that massive steak.

Little fella protested when I shifted him to get out of bed, making a growling, protesting noise.

“Calm down. You can stay there if you want, but some of us need to work and pay the bills,” I grumbled.

My dumb ass then proceeded to tuck my blanket around it. Dumb because who left a wild animal in their home while they went to work? I’d probably return to everything chewed to shit and lizard poop and pee stinking up the place, but call me a softie, I didn’t have the heart to toss him outside.

I made myself coffee and slathered butter on an everything bagel—stale since I’d forgotten I had it in the breadbox. Since I had two, I also toasted an extra for the little fella and left it on a plate on the floor because I just knew he’d be hungry when he got up. I also put down some paper towels by the door. Could you piddle pad train a lizard? Guess we’d see.

With my goggles over my eyes and wearing my leather pants, jacket, and shit kickers, I headed into work on my motorcycle, my platinum hair streaming. No, I didn’t wear a helmet. Yes, that was against the law. Did I care? Not really. I had a friend who survived a motorcycle accident because he wore a lid. Ended up a quadriplegic. I admired his resiliency in dealing with his disability even as I knew I’d lack the same fortitude. Hence why I took chances.

The road had more traffic than usual heading away from the city. Despite the evacuation and trauma of the nearby exploding volcano, Terrace had never been busier. Crazy ass folks came in from all over, wanting to see the lava rivulets up close. It led to more walk-ins at our shop than normal, which ended up being good for me since my appointment had to cancel, changing his mind about wanting his girlfriend’s face on his back since he caught her cheating with his sister. Sounded like a Jerry Springer special to me.

When I got a break in people wanting on-the-spot mini tattoos memorializing their visit—most opting for volcanoes, with one client having me make the spewing rocks into hearts—I popped out to run an errand. If Little Fella was going to be sticking around, I should probably invest in some lizard-appropriate food. Didn’t they eat like insects and stuff? Sure, it scarfed down a steak and loved ice cream, but that likely was not healthy. Not to mention, I couldn’t afford to feed it thirty dollar steaks every day. Given its carnivorous proclivity, I wondered what kind of lizard I’d found. An internet search of local wildlife didn’t show anything resembling my little fella.

Luckily for me, the pet store up the street, Leaping Lizards, specialized in reptiles. I walked in and wrinkled my nose. The place stank of animal, most likely because of the many glass aquariums featuring a variety of scaly critters. I browsed the many available species: geckos, bearded dragons, snakes. None looked like my friend at home.

“Can I help you?”

The deep voice had me whirling and looking up. Way up. A barrel-chested giant with arms possibly as wide as my waist stood behind me, wearing plaid and jeans. A bearded lumberjack with a nametag that said Maddox.

“Hey, there. So weird thing, I found a lizard at my place and was looking for something to feed him.”

He arched a brow. “Chances are it can feed itself. The lizards in these parts aren’t domesticable.”

“Yeah, well tell that to the little fella that insisted on coming inside my trailer and snuggled me all night long.”

That claim brought a frown to the ruggedly handsome face. It should be noted I had a thing for big, burly dudes, not that I’d dated any in a while. My last boyfriend, a biker I’d met while tattooing him, turned out to be a dick who stole all the cash from my cookie jar and fled town when the cops came looking for him about some stolen catalytic converters. What could I say, I knew how to pick them.

“Do you know what species you found?”

I shook my head. “Nah, and Google’s not being too helpful in that regard either. And before you ask, I forgot to take a pic, but he’s about this big,” I held out my hands. “Grayish skin. Lumpy back, talkative and bossy.”

“Lizards don’t talk.”

“Not in words,” I scoffed. “But definitely making noise at me. Anyhow, I’m here because I need some food and shit.”

“Kind of hard to figure out its diet without knowing the species.” Maddox pursed his lips. “But I can probably set you up with some generic stuff. Given the description, it’s most likely a Northern Alligator Lizard. They tend to like insects and stuff. Do you have a terrarium?”

I snorted. “No, and I’d rather not cage it.”

“Then you run the risk of it escaping.”

The reply had me shrugging. “Which would be its choice. I’m not even sure it will be there when I get back.”

He gave me an odd look. “Exactly where do you live that lizards can come and go?”

“I’ve got a trailer outside of town. Used to belong to my granny. While it’s fairly cozy, I know for a fact it’s got holes because the mice somehow keep finding a way in.” And this despite the many traps I’d set over the years.

“In that case, there’s a strong chance it will be gone by the time you get home. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone domesticating a NAL.” He shortened the name.

“Assuming it is, what do you suggest I feed it?” I left out any mention of the steak and ice cream Little Fella scarfed down. Maddox already seemed appalled enough as it was. No need for him to lose his eyebrows completely in disbelief.

“Let me get you a few things.” The big man moved confidently around the store, and I leaned against a display watching because I just couldn’t make it fit. He looked like he should be chopping wood or fixing cars, not working in a pet store. Heck, with that ass and the biceps bulging his shirt, he would have looked good as a fireman or a stripper.

Maddox dumped an armful of shit on the counter by the register. He pointed and named each item. “Dried crickets, although I do have live ones if you find your lizard not happy about them being dead. Canned worms. They’re a little juicier so you might want to feed them to it on a towel or something washable. We’ve got some powdered vitamin to make sure it doesn’t get mineral deficient. You’ll want to make sure it’s got access to water as well. Do you need a dish?”

My lips curved as I said, “Pretty sure I’ve got enough empty margarine containers to figure something out.” Grandma didn’t believe in buying plastic receptacles but rather reused the ones she got with things like sour cream, yoghurt, and other dairy products. When one cracked or melted in the microwave, she recycled it and pulled out the next. By the time she died, she’d collected so many I had to purge but kept up the practice. After all, I’d already paid for the container, why not use it?

“This should get you started. If the lizard sticks around, pop back with a picture and we’ll confirm its species. Maybe talk you into some live insects,” he said with a naughty grin.

“Like fuck. I am not having some grasshoppers and stuff loose in my trailer. Bad enough I’ve got ants each summer.”

As Maddox rang up my purchases, he glanced at me. “I’ve seen you around. You work nearby?”

“Yeah, down the street. I am an artist at Holy Inkredible.”

“The tattoo place. Neat name. I hear you do good work.”

“Only the best,” I boasted. “You got any ink?”

He shook his head. “Nah. You?”

Guess he couldn’t tell given I wore long sleeves and pants. “A few.” I downplayed the number. Some dudes got weird about girls being tatted up.

“You do them yourself?”

“No. It’s not easy to work on your own skin. Leo does mine. And I do his.”

“Leo is…”

“My boss.” Although, I had to wonder why he asked. Fishing to see if I was single, perhaps? Hell, yeah. I wouldn’t mind taking Maddox for a ride.

“That will be forty-three seventy-nine. Cash or credit?”

“Cash.” I handed over two twenties and a ten and shoved the change in my pocket.

He paper-bagged my purchase and handed it to me. “Here you go. I’m Maddox, by the way. Or Mad, as my friends call me.”

“Are you an angry man?” I teased.

His grin flashed bright and panty-wetting. “Only if you abuse an animal or steal food from my plate.”

“I’m with you on both. I’m Pip.” I didn’t mention the fact it was short for Philippa—which I hated with a fucking passion. Mom named me after my deadbeat dad, a man who left before I was born but eventually returned, not to become a father. Oh no. He convinced my mom to abandon me at the age of three and run away with him. She didn’t even hesitate. Granny raised me and I thanked fuck for that fact. Last I heard, my parents were down in South America grifting. I only knew because my mother called to beg for some dough. No hello how are you, just straight up I’m broke, can you send me some cash? I doubted I’d hear from her again since I told her she could take her demand and shove it up her twat. She called me ungrateful. I told her she could kiss my ass after I took a dump. Needless to say, that conversation ended abruptly.

“Nice to meet you, Pip. Good luck with your lizard.”

It would have been funny, only he meant it quite seriously. “Thanks, Mad.” Yeah, I used the nickname because it was cute.

I spent another two hours working, mostly doing up sketches and setting up appointments before heading home. When I entered the trailer, I half expected Little Fella to be gone, but the moment I opened the door, he stood on the couch and chirped at me.

“Yeah, yeah. I know you’re probably hungry. Look. I got you some yummies.” I grimaced at the smell and sight of the bugs as I put them on a plate on the floor.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one less than impressed. Little Fella took one sniff and gagged. Wait, could lizards gag?

“I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t eat it either. I brought home some sausage to cook up on the firepit. Wanna try some of that?”

Little Fella did. He scarfed down a whole fat wiener and then eyed the other half of mine. Where the fuck was he putting it? He also greatly enjoyed the marshmallows I roasted. I ate three. He, well, he ate the rest when I wasn’t looking. Apparently, I didn’t cook them fast enough so he got into the bag and next thing I knew—gone.

When we went inside, I stepped over the clean paper towel—which made me wonder if Little Fella had left me a surprise somewhere—and flipped on the television in the bedroom. My one of only three free channels had Jurassic Park playing, which Little Fella seemed to greatly enjoy. He sat on my lap and didn’t turn his gaze once from the screen.

Once more, we slept together, and when I rose the next day, he remained in my bed. Since he’d enjoyed the bagel I’d left the day before, I made him another—from a fresh pack I’d bought—and refilled his water dish—a.k.a. repurposed margarine tub. I also turned on the TV in my living area and left it running since it had fascinated him so much.

I went to work, debated popping by to see Maddox, realized I had no reason since I’d forgotten to take a pic, and with no plausible excuse to swing by—because I wasn’t buying more bugs—ended up just going home.

Being low on supplies, I hit the grocery store for more stuff and bought enough my saddlebags bulged. Little Fella would be eating like a prince tonight as I’d grabbed us a rotisserie chicken and some cupcakes—that would likely have most of their icing plastered to the container. Wanna bet my little lizard would love licking it off?

With my arms laden with my purchases, I struggled to open the door. It swung open and I smiled at Little Fella perched on the couch, watching television. He craned his head to eye me and rather than the nonsensical chirping of before said quite distinctly if with an accent, “Woman, I’m hungry. Feed me.”

COLLAPSE
Find a StoreApple BooksGooglePlayKoboAmazon/KindleBarnes and Noble
If you like Training My Human, you might be interested in:
Book Cover: A Chimera's Revenge

A Chimera's Revenge

Book Cover: Toxic

Toxic

Book Cover: New Pack Order

New Pack Order

Fairytale Bureau Collection (Books 1 – 3)

loading images
LOADING IMAGES
Book Cover: Fairytale Bureau Collection (Books 1 - 3)
Find a Store
Part of the Fairytale Bureau series:
  • Hood’s Caper
  • Cinder’s Trial
  • Belle’s Quest
  • Fairytale Bureau Collection (Books 1 – 3)

In a world where fairytales keep coming to life, there’s a bureau dedicated to helping the victims caught up in the Grimm Effect. But sometimes even those investigators fall prey to a happily ever after… 

Enjoy this collection of three books featuring previously released stories: 
  • Hood’s Caper ~ Blanche Hood managed to evade the Red-Cap curse as a teen when she didn’t fall for the huntsman or get eaten by the wolf. But looks like the curse is revving up for another try, and this time it’s out for blood. Her blood. Can she track down the serial killer wolf before it’s too late for love?
  • Cinder’s Trial ~ Cinder thought she’d beaten the Grimm Effect when she ditched the old man who kept chasing her at the ball. However, decades later, her fairy godmother pops back in for round two. No thanks. Cinder intends to marry for love and not because of a curse, but avoiding the marriage trap isn’t easy when she’s forced to act as liaison for a European prince. A good thing she’s got a Grimm Knight to keep her distracted.
  • Belle’s Quest ~ Belle is determined to be the one who ends the Grimm Effect but in a hairy twist, the evil magic fights back and turns her into the beast. Should she admit defeat and take up residence in a dreary castle where she can roar at trespassers, or see if she can end the curse by giving true love a try?
Dive into these lighthearted romances with faiytale twists that will keep you reading past your bedtime.
Published: 2025-02-20
Genres:
anthology/boxset/collection, curse romance, dark humor, magic and sorcery, Paranormal Romance, Romantic Comedy, royalty romance, Shapeshifter Romance, Supernatural Mystery, twisted fairytale, werewolf romance
Tags:
english
If you like Fairytale Bureau Collection (Books 1 - 3), you might be interested in:
Book Cover: Aziel

Aziel

Book Cover: Wizard's Chance

Wizard's Chance

Book Cover: Wickedest Witch

Wickedest Witch

Earth’s Magic : Collection Two (Books 4- 6)

loading images
LOADING IMAGES
Book Cover: Earth's Magic : Collection Two (Books 4- 6)
Find a Store
Part of the Earth's Magic series:
  • Earth’s Magic : Collection One (Books 1-3)
  • Earth’s Magic : Collection Two (Books 4- 6)
  • Earth’s Daughter
  • Earth’s Lair
  • Earth’s Elf
  • Earth’s Paladin
  • Earth’s Secret
  • Earth’s Triangle

A dryad on a mission, a witch with a secret, and two hounds ready to howl for love, So much to love in this paranormal romance bundle.

The Earth’s Magic Collection Two contains previously released titles:

• Earth’s Paladin ~ The world might not be ready for Mother Earth’s slightly murderous champion. Too bad, because she’s about to fertilize gardens the old-fashioned way; with the blood of her enemies. Will love temper her need for vengeance?
• Earth’s Secret ~ This Cryptid Authority agent—and witch—has been tasked with investigating a string of arsons. To her surprise, she uncovers a link to her past and now must scramble to survive with the help of her famous—and handsome—partner.
• Earth’s Triangle  ~ These hounds have orders from their goddess to protect a human. Not the most exciting job until they meet her face to face. Adeline’s charm gets their hearts and back paws thumping, but there is a problem: Why are zombies attracted to her?

Lighthearted, paranormal fun in a world where anything can happen, and love always prevails.
Published: 2024-10-31
Genres:
anthology/boxset/collection, curse romance, dark humor, dryad romance, killer hero, killer heroine, magic and sorcery, Menage/Polyamory, Paranormal Romance, Romantic Comedy, second chance romance, Shapeshifter Romance, Supernatural Mystery, werewolf romance, Witch Romance
Tags:
english
If you like Earth's Magic : Collection Two (Books 4- 6), you might be interested in:
Book Cover: Humanity's Endgame

Humanity's Endgame

Book Cover: F814

F814

Book Cover: Knocking on Helen's Door

Knocking on Helen's Door

Legend of Scorpio

loading images
LOADING IMAGES
Book Cover: Legend of Scorpio
Find a StoreApple BooksKoboAmazon/KindleGooglePlayBarnes and Noble
Part of the The Thirteenth Zodiac series:
  • The Thirteenth Zodiac (Books 1 – 3)
  • Legend of Scorpio
  • Sins of Leo
  • Capture of Capricorn
  • Taurus’s Quest

A fiery warrior plus an icy scientist = 💥 ❤️‍🔥

For eons, the Zodiac Warriors have fought in secret the evils that threaten Earth: aliens, monsters, even depraved humans. So when their seer predicts a coming calamity these fighters are more than eager to help protect humanity.

First up is Scorpio who is tasked with locating an artifact in Antarctica. A simple mission, except the doctor who’s supposed to help him find it has no idea what he’s talking about.

Rebecca doesn’t know what to think of the dude who suddenly appears—naked in subzero temperatures. He claims to be some kind of astral hero. Ridiculous, and yet, there is something not quite human about Scorpio. As for his conviction she can lead him to some kind of relic that will save the world? He must be smoking some epic astral dust.

To her surprise, though, the glacier she’s been chipping at is hiding the entrance to a mysterious cave. An ancient one full of peril. What they discover inside blows her scientific mind. Almost as much as Scorpio blows her usually quiet libido.

However, before Rebecca can come to terms with the fact Zodiac Warriors truly are magical, she’s betrayed by her employer. Turns out, she wasn’t contracted by some do-good climate group, but by villains who steal the relic for nefarious purpose!

Good thing a true hero never gives up.

Can Scorpio recover the relic before it’s too late? And if he does, will this bachelor decide he’s ready to relinquish the single life for love?

Find a Store

Published: 2025-01-16
Genres:
alien romance, killer hero, Romantic Comedy, Sci-Fi Romance
Tags:
english
Excerpt:

Prologue

“There is a disturbance in the astral forces,” declared Sage as she dropped some herbs into the pot of boiling liquid, which she stirred with a long-handled wooden spoon. She was always brewing concoctions. Tinctures for healing. Potions for good luck. Fragrant stews that foretold a future of a happy stomach.

Aries, working out in the corner of their apartment, paused his bench pressing to eye his wife. “Another asteroid?” He and the team had recently acted to change the course of a hurtling rock so it bypassed Earth. Successfully, of course, although its adjusted trajectory baffled NASA observers.

“No, not a meteor. What I’m sensing is already here but has been hidden for a long time. According to my portents, its emergence will cause chaos.” Sage frowned at her brew. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say…” She shook her head. “No, impossible.”

READ MORE

“What’s impossible?” Aries padded over to his wife, wiping his sweaty brow with a towel.

Sage’s lips pursed. “There are only twelve. It makes no sense.”

“Only twelve what?” He’d gotten used to his wife’s somewhat cryptic replies. Being a mystic, Sage saw the world differently than others.

“The twelve Warriors of the Zodiac are eternal and unchanging.”

“I hear a ‘but.’”

She raised her gaze to his, her eyes swirling with colors as her powers flooded her petite body. “But I see a thirteenth.”

His turn to frown and mutter, “Impossible.”

“Agreed, and yet I see it. A thirteenth warrior will soon rouse, and in its wake: destruction. Death.”

At that announcement, Aries stiffened. “Not while the twelve stand. Tell me what we must do to counter this interloper.”

Her voice took on a monotone as she stated, “Find what was lost and make it whole. True love’s kiss shall show the way. Join them under the nimbus of the eclipse.”

Aries drawled, “Is this your way of asking for a smooch? Because you know I don’t need a prophecy to give you one.”

Sage blinked before focussing on him. “This is not a joke. Something dangerous is coming. The threads of the future show it only being stopped by an object of power, long broken apart with its pieces lost. Those fragments must be found and reassembled during a solar eclipse.”

“Where does the kiss come in?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, but we’d better find out, or the world is doomed.”

“Where do we start looking for these missing parts?”

Sage bit her lower lip. “Let me see what my casting stew has to say.” She dropped in more ingredients and stirred, the fragrance changing with each addition. Yummy-smelling, but he knew better than to taste. Only an idiot would eat powerful magic.

With Sage busy, Aries nuked some pizza pockets for dinner. He didn’t bother making any for Sage, as she would only eat once she achieved—

“The first piece of the relic will be located by a woman.”

“You do know there’s a billion of that sex populating the earth?”

Sage cast him a dark look. “I wasn’t done. She is a scientist, currently doing some research in Antarctica. She’s about to make a discovery that will put her in danger.”

“I’ll gather the team and head out immediately.”

At his statement, Sage shook her head. “No. Only one can go. If you send any more, the mission will fail.”

“A single warrior?” Aries frowned as he thought over his options. Libra’s wife just had a baby, so that would be cruel. Leo was most likely on another bender. Capricorn had last been seen roaming the mountains of Tibet, finding himself. “I don’t have anything on my schedule.”

“Not you.” A flat reply from Sage. “It should be Scorpio.”

“He just finished a mission and is supposed to be on a break. We could send Cancer.”

“It must be Scorpio.”

“Can I ask why?”

“Because I said so.” A tart reply.

And that was that.

The mystic had spoken.

Chapter 1

The summons came while Scorpio sunbathed on a beach in Florida.

Your presence is requested immediately.

He uttered a groan, and the bikini-clad lady by his side murmured, “What’s wrong, handsome?”

“Work’s calling.”

“How do you know? Your phone didn’t ring.”

“The boss has his ways,” Scorpio’s cryptic reply as he rose from the sand and stretched.

“Will I see you again?” she asked.

“Not likely.” Scorpio wasn’t into the whole relationship thing. In his defense, the women he dated weren’t either. Fun, casual times. That was the way to live.

He padded to the hut he’d been renting and gathered his belongings, stuffing them into a bag before bowing his head and concentrating.

No place like home.

The tattoo on his back, a scorpion that spanned the entire width, heated.

In moments, he found himself on the first floor of the Tower of Babel. Not destroyed as historical texts claimed but hidden from human view after the attempt.

The massive structure used to house all the Zodiac Warriors. However, these days, some of them chose to maintain homes outside of it, wanting the freedom to enjoy what the modern world offered.

Not Aries. Given he’d married the prophetess, Sage, he remained, and the two embraced a life devoid of the chaos and constant surveillance now happening pretty much everywhere in the world. Other Zodiac Warriors stayed because they had a preference for solitude. Neither was why Scorpio maintained a suite of rooms in the tower. He liked people, liked partying. However, there were numerous reasons he had for continuing to call the Tower home: one being, he couldn’t decide on a new permanent place. Besides, it wasn’t as if he spent much time there. On his days off he tended to travel the world: the warmer the climate, the better.

As Scorpio climbed the stairs to Aries’ office—a thigh-burning two hundred steps out of the almost twelve thousand that it took to reach the peak of Babel Tower—he wondered what the de facto leader wanted. Scorpio had just returned from a mission, a rescue of migrant children who’d been smuggled over the border for foul reasons. The tykes he’d freed had been handed over to adults who didn’t have nefarious designs. As for those responsible… Currently feeding coyotes in the wild. Scorpio recycled whenever he could.

He arrived on the seventh floor breathing a little heavily. It had been a while since he’d trained by running up and down those steps. Might be time to recondition.

The windows that wound around the tower, along with the staircase, let in the bright sun and illuminated the circling corridor lined with potted plants. When he’d first been recruited, he tried to find out who kept them watered. No matter how much caffeine he pumped into his body, he always fell asleep. The plants weren’t the only thing that seemed to be magically cared for. The tower never stayed dirty. No matter how many muddy boots he tromped through his quarters, or how much pizza he dropped, when he either woke or returned after a trip, everything was once more pristine. It proved jarring at times because, in the real world, when he roamed among the humans, his messes didn’t vanish. Part of the reason why he kept his home in the tower. He liked having an invisible maid.

His boots barely made a sound as he strode to the wooden panel carved with the wheel of the Zodiac. Within that circle, the inscribed symbols for each of the warriors. Twelve marks, for twelve constellations, for twelve flesh-based avatars. Scorpio’s emblem glowed as he placed his hand on the portal.

Click. The door opened, and Scorpio entered to find Aries standing behind his desk, looking out the window.

“Hey bossman, what’s up? Thought I was supposed to be on a two-week break before the next mission.” He flopped into a chair across from the desk.

Aries glanced at him over his shoulder. “Change of plans. Sage had a vision.”

Scorpio stiffened. All the Zodiac Warriors listened when Sage spoke. “What did she see?”

“Something wicked is coming, and to stop it, we have to locate some artifacts.”

“Wouldn’t it be simpler to fight it?” Scorpio usually had one simple solution to most things: Kill it. That tended to end most problems.

“Apparently, we can’t. Sage insists we find these relics, and lucky you, you’re first up.”

“Fair enough. What am I looking for?”

“I don’t know. Sage couldn’t see the actual items in question, although she did have a location for the first one. Congrats, you’re going to Antarctica.”

“Where it’s like a billion degrees below zero?” Scorpio huffed. “You know I hate the cold.” Yes, he complained. Why couldn’t his task be somewhere hot and sticky?

“One, where you’re going, it’s only minus twenty or so degrees Fahrenheit. Two, the cold can’t hurt you.” One of the quirks of being a Zodiac Warrior. “And three, you are going because Sage said it had to be you. Trust me, you weren’t my first choice because I knew you’d whine.”

“I’m just busting your balls. ’Course, I’ll go. However, if Sage doesn’t even know what I’m looking for, how the fuck am I going to find it?”

“It’s a mystic quest. It will reveal itself. And you won’t be completely without aid. You’re to locate a doctor… Hold, let me find the name.” Aries checked the notes on his computer screen. “Dr. Guthrie, who is already there studying the glaciers.”

“They have scientists analyzing giant ice cubes? Sounds absolutely scintillating.” Not. “I assume I’m not supposed to kill this doctor.”

“No.” A flat statement accompanied by a stern look.

“What about roughing them up if they don’t cooperate?”

Aries sighed. “You know, you don’t always have to use your fists—or knives—to solve problems.”

“You’re right. Guns are much more efficient, as they can be used from a distance.” Yes, Scorpio antagonized on purpose. The leader of their faction took his role very seriously.

“No hurting anyone unless your life is in peril,” snapped Aries.

“Aye, aye, bossman. So, how am I getting there? Do we have a portal I don’t know about in Antarctica?” Because, while Scorpio had been around the world using the doorways that linked their home base to various locations, he’d never heard of one at the South Pole. North, yes. It was shared with Claus. Yes, that Claus.

“No portal. You’ll have to starbeam in.”

Scorpio groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding me. That is like the most annoying way to travel.” Starbeam involved triangulating their constellation to act as a conduit that would basically disassemble a warrior and reshape them at their desired location. Uncomfortable at best, but at its worst, if they miscalculated even slightly, they’d been known to reappear with nothing. In other words, in the buff. Hard to intimidate with your dick and balls swinging around.

“I am not wasting the time or resources renting a plane to drop you. And you know, starbeaming wouldn’t be so bad if you didn’t rush the calculations.”

Scorpio’s lips pinched. “I hate math.” He’d hated it when young and the teacher would show them five apples then take two away and ask them to count the remainder. She never liked his answer, which was five, because there were still five apples, just not in the same pile. Then when he ate the two and finally gave the response she wanted of three, she’d put him in time out.

“And I hate peas,” Aries replied.

“What’s little balls of green deliciousness have to do with math?” he exclaimed.

“Nothing. It’s as pointless as you arguing. Now, if you’re done, here’s the coordinates of the doctor’s camp.”

Aries handed over a printout that kindly included his constellation’s positioning for the next forty-eight hours, as well as that of a meteor travelling in the area that would require making some adjustments—AKA, more fucking math.

“Guess I’ll finally get to wrestle polar bears,” Scorpio stated as he stood to take his leave.

“The bears live in the north. South Pole is penguins and seals.”

“Bummer. Can’t exactly wrestle a cute penguin. Think a seal will provide a challenge?”

Aries once more sighed. “Don’t fuck up.”

“Who, me?”

“And don’t kill anything!”

“No promises,” Scorpio sang as he walked out the door.

He spent a few hours getting his shit together. Had a nap. Packed a knapsack—with weapons. Another with food. Played a few rounds of COD—and got destroyed by some kids who called him old. Then struggled with the calculations for his starbeam. By the time he finished, his brain hurt, but in good news, he was ready to go.

He went outside the tower with his gear but kept the knapsack in his lap as he plopped to the ground, cross-legged. Scorpio drew symbols in the courtyard sandbox, like, literally a sandbox. A square ringed in stones and filled with sand—not the earthly variety, but that created by grinding meteors. It provided a perfect base for the squiggles he dug with a finger, the ones at his back being the most annoying to complete. Why starbeaming couldn’t be as simple as concentrating, he never understood. After all, his tattoo gave him a direct link to home. Why couldn’t the person who created the warriors have devised a similar method for travelling elsewhere? Yes, they had portals, twelve of them scattered around the world in major areas, but in a hurry, it would have been useful to choose their exact destination.

Once done with his drawing, Scorpio placed his hands on his knees, closed his eyes, and then, because it amused him, muttered, “By the power of the Zodiac, let’s go!”

Uh-oh. The realization he’d miscalculated hit the moment his body began disincorporating, but by then, it was too late. He shot to his constellation of stars, faster than noise and light, and then, from there, ricocheted back to Earth.

In good news, he made it to Antarctica.

The bad? He arrived wearing nothing but a grimace.

 

Chapter 2

“Just my freaking luck,” Rebecca muttered as she stared at the leopard seal she’d startled as she rounded the glacier she was studying. The massive bull quivered as it watched her. She backed away slowly, hands out in front of her as if that would keep it calm.

It barked and lifted itself, bristling with aggression.

“Nice seal. I’m not a hunter. You just keep sunning yourself. I’ll come back for samples later.”

Much like her singing, her voice failed to have a soothing effect.

The seal uttered a sound and slid a flipper forward.

To think she’d scoffed at the need for a tranquilizer gun. Antarctica wasn’t known for its predators. Curious penguins, yes. Seals, also, most of which ignored humans. But the leopard seals… they liked meat, and yes, that included humans. While attacks were rare, they did happen. Just ask that poor scientist killed by one in the early 2000s.

Rebecca fumbled at her utility belt and pulled forth a whistle. Sharp sounds startled most wild animals. She put it to her lips and blew.

Skree!

A piercing shriek filled the air, but rather than scare the seal, the beast began humping in her direction.

Oh, hell no. She turned and started to run. In her thick and heavy boots on uneven snow and ice, it went as well as expected.

Thump. She hit the ground and only narrowly missed smashing her face. Huffing hotly, she flipped to her back, scuttling from the seal charging in her direction, death in its gaze.

Would this be how her life ended? A blurb on the internet—Female Scientist Dies After Being Mauled by Seal in Antarctica. She could just imagine the comments.

Should have sent a man.

Why didn’t she shoot it?

Wouldn’t have happened if she stayed in the kitchen where she belonged.

At least she’d die doing what she loved.

Accepting this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to study in Antarctica had been the culmination of a dream. From a young age, as a child raised in the arid and hot state of Arizona, she’d always been fascinated by snow and ice. It led to her acquiring a few degrees, including one as a glaciologist, something that had people always saying ‘Hunh?’ after asking her what she’d studied.

They didn’t understand her fascination with glaciers. How slicing into one could uncover all kinds of secrets. The way the ice layers showed past climate events. The warming and cooling of the planet over the ages. How they could help predict patterns for the future. Sometimes, a lucky glaciologist would even come across something perfectly preserved in the ice. A flash-freezing of an extinct species.

The seal hadn’t slowed its approach, and she couldn’t help but stare when…

A streak of light plummeted from the sky, bright enough she closed her eyes. When no boom accompanied the bolt, she peeked to see if she got lucky and the lightning hit the seal.

It hadn’t, but the light had stopped the seal dead in its flippers, mostly because a naked man stood between her and the startled bull.

The seal barked.

The man, who possessed a very muscly back covered in a massive tattoo, barked right back.

Rebecca blinked. Had she already been killed? A glance at her intact clothing and the still-white snow around her seemed to indicate nothing had touched her.

Not dead—not yet—but the man might not fare so well.

The seal lunged at the stranger, and to her shock, rather than dodge, the stranger grabbed it in a headlock and laughed. “You’ll have to do better than that, fat ass.” The man then lifted and flung the huge seal.

It landed with a grunting noise and uttered a short-pitched whine.

“Don’t you bitch at me. You started this.” The man shook a finger, chiding.

The seal yipped some more.

“Yeah, yeah, I ruined your fun. Too fucking bad. Maybe you should pick on someone your own size.”

The seal raised itself to its full height and embarked on a frenzied barkfest.

Once more, the fearless man mimicked it.

To her shock, the seal chuffed and then turned around, humping its way back to the water. She’d lived. Maybe. She most certainly hit her head, though.

Rebecca muttered, “What the heck just happened?”

“I saved your butt,” the stranger stated as he turned with a smile. His front proved as impressive as the back, muscle upon muscle and a cock that didn’t appear to mind the cold.

“Who are you? How did you get here? And where are your clothes?”

The stranger glanced at himself and sighed. “Fuck me. Not again. Next time I gotta remember not to wear my favorite jeans when starbeaming.”

Nothing he said made sense. “Hello, still looking for an answer.”

“Guess there’s no point in giving you a bullshit story, seeing as how you saw my starlit arrival. I am Scorpio.” He struck a pose. “Zodiac Warrior, protector of the world, here on an important mission.”

“Is there a hidden camera somewhere? Is this a joke?” Rebecca glanced around, waiting for the punchline.

“I know you’re overwhelmed by my presence. It happens. After all, we don’t appear to just anyone, and I didn’t actually plan to be seen by you. However, I might have made a slight mathematical miscalculation, which turned out to be good for you. I do believe that seal was going to eat your face, which is surprising. I thought they only scarfed down fish.”

“Are you an alien?” Because strangely enough, it made the most sense.

“Nope, although I have a close affinity to the stars. Those ones to be exact.” He pointed to the blue sky, where not a single astral body could be seen.

“Are you human?”

“Yes, but one that has been enhanced.”

She had to be dreaming, and yet everything felt so real. The cold. The bright sun making her squint. The details of his body that she would have never imagined. After all, the usual men featuring in her fantasies weren’t body-building, platinum-haired man-beasts. “Why are you here?”

“I’m looking for Doctor Guthrie.”

At hearing her name, she cocked her head. “Why?”

“He’s supposed to help me find something. Do you know where he is? I’m assuming he’s camped nearby, unless I really fucked up my landing zone.”

“She,” Rebecca emphasized, “Is right in front of you, and the only thing I’m helping you find is a pair of pants.”

“You’re Doctor Guthrie?” He ogled her.

“Yes.”

“You’re not a dude.”

“You don’t say,” her dry reply.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Scorpio.” He offered a dazzling smile.

“You already introduced yourself.”

“That’s right, I did. So now that we’ve been introduced, care to tell me where it is?”

“Where what is?”

“I don’t know. Some kind of special object. The details aren’t clear. I assumed you’d know what I meant. The bossman said Sage was very specific about you helping me.”

“Listen, crazy naked dude from the stars, I don’t know what you are, why you’re really here, or what you want from me, but I think I’ve had enough weirdness for one day. So I’m going back to my shelter and having a cup of coffee, which will be fifty percent or more whiskey, then to bed, where I will later wake up and decide I hallucinated on account I smacked my head.”

“Not a hallucination, that is assuming you’ve not imbibed any shrooms. Even then, this is happening, Doc. Now lead me to your camp, because a whiskey coffee sounds great. Although you can skip the coffee in mine.”

“Who says you’re invited?” she retorted.

“You’re a scientist. Don’t tell me you’re not curious about the naked man who appeared from the sky.”

“I would be if this were real.”

“I’ll show you real.” He stalked for her, and she got to notice just how tall he was. Fluid, too, his body moving limber and confident. His smile just enough to stutter her heart.

When he stopped in front of her, she had to crane to see him. Heat radiated from his nude flesh. “How are you so hot?” she muttered.

“Baby, I was born this way,” he murmured before dragging her upward and planting a kiss on her lips!

COLLAPSE
Find a StoreApple BooksKoboAmazon/KindleGooglePlayBarnes and Noble
If you like Legend of Scorpio, you might be interested in:
Book Cover: Cougar Mom

Cougar Mom

Book Cover: Old Demon and the Sea Witch

Old Demon and the Sea Witch

Book Cover: The Grae Sisters (Books 1 - 3)

The Grae Sisters (Books 1 - 3)

My Boyfriend Bites

loading images
LOADING IMAGES
Book Cover: My Boyfriend Bites
Find a StoreApple BooksBarnes and NobleGooglePlayKoboAmazon/KindleAudiobook
Part of the A Moonstruck Mating series:
  • My Girlfriend is a Werewolf
  • My Boyfriend Marks Trees
  • My Boyfriend Bites
  • A Moonstruck Mating Books 1 – 3

She’s not the only one who likes to nibble.


Selene’s spent her entire life keeping her emotions in check to avoid wolfing out in public. She’s single, but not by choice. Not many men can handle a woman who turns furry on the full moon—and every time her adrenaline gets pumping. She’s just about given up on love when she meets Dante.

The insufferable man is on the same cruise as her and, for some reason, pursues her. As if she’d ever date a womanizer. Despite her issues with keeping her lycan side leashed, Selene is holding out for love with a nice guy, not some rich Italian playboy with suits that cost more than her entire wardrobe. However, Dante is tenacious, and when pirates board the ship, he proves to be more courageous than expected.

Those scurvy scoundrels chose the wrong Valentine’s Day party to crash, and as the bodies begin to pile up, it soon becomes obvious that the ferocious Selene isn’t the only one chomping on bad guys.

Here’s to hoping by the time the cruise ends, Cupid gives her the one thing she’s been longing for; a lover who won’t mind if she growls—and bites—in bed.

Full List of Stores

Published: 2025-02-06
Cover Artists:
Atra Luna's Book Cover and Logo Art
Genres:
Holiday Romance, Holiday Romance, Paranormal Romance, Romantic Comedy, Shapeshifter Romance, vampire romance, werewolf romance
Tags:
english
Excerpt:

Chapter 1

To-Do Day 1: Get to the airport. Remember to go potty before the flight. And don’t wolf out on the plane, even if the person beside you manspreads.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything else? I think you forgot to pack the kitchen sink.” Selene’s brother, Ares, teased as he lugged her overstuffed carry-on roller to the curb at the airport departures drop-off area.

“You’re the one making me go,” she grumbled.

A year and a bit after a holiday trip found itself cancelled due to inclement weather, Selene was finally going on her cruise—minus her mother. Not her choice. She liked hanging with her mom, but apparently, as a new grandma, her mom had a duty to spoil. Selene argued an aunt had the same right; however, her family insisted she go and booked her into an adults-only voyage that coincided with Valentine’s Day.

“It will be romantic,” big sis, Athena, claimed.

READ MORE

As if Selene needed help getting laid. Men hit on her all the time, but Selene had a secret, a big hairy one, that tended to poke its nose out when she got aroused, making it almost impossible for anyone to get close.

Mom kept saying one day Selene would meet “the one,” and she’d know. She sure hoped so because she was beginning to feel like a third wheel every time she hung out with her siblings, who’d both found their perfect mate.

“This will be good for you. You’ve been spending way too much time cooped up on the farm,” Ares stated, not for the first time.

Apparently, her family noticed she’d been going out less and less. Not her fault. She’d been finding it harder of late to keep the positive attitude that kept her wolf inside her skin.

“Not true. I went into the city just last week.”

“To pick up some supplies for your rabbits. A trip to the store and back isn’t going out.” Ares shook his head.

He probably had a point, but Selene wouldn’t admit it. “I’ll miss you, guys.” Her family was her entire world. She lived on the farm with her mom and brother, as well as his new wife and daughter, whom he’d adopted. Her sister, Athena, visited often with her hubby, Derek, along with their little bundle of joy, Apollo, a chubby-faced baby with a dark tuft of hair.

“We’ll miss you too. And don’t worry, we’ll text you every day.”

“To harass me and make sure I’m socializing,” she grumbled.

“Yup.” He didn’t even deny it. He dragged her in for a hug, and her eyes misted. She’d never traveled alone before. Never actually travelled, truth be told. But she could do this. People boarded planes and went on cruises all the time.

It would be fine.

She hoped.

The plane to Orlando took just under four hours, and lucky her, the guy beside her slept the entire time and kept his limbs to himself. Once she collected her luggage, she boarded a shuttle bus the cruise provided, which brought them to port just before sunset. The ship wouldn’t be sailing until seven, a late departure compared to most itineraries. She wondered if it had to do with the recent rumor about another cruise line. According to social media, a ship with more than a thousand souls had run into pirates.

Actual pirates! The miscreants were said to have not only robbed the passengers, but they’d supposedly killed a few, too. Or so it was assumed, since the ship appeared to be missing some people when it docked, including the captain.

True? Hard to know since the news media outlets didn’t appear to be carrying the story. It didn’t deter Selene, though. After all, in the books she read, pirates could be dashing heroes who swept a woman off her feet. And if it turned out to be the other kind… He’d soon regret his life choices when her wolf bit off a body part.

As she stood in line with her luggage, doing that slow shuffle as each person in front of her fumbled to put all their items on the security belt, it struck her that most of the passengers milling about were her mom’s age. Or, in other words, more than twice Selene’s. That didn’t bode well, especially since she noticed the elderly couple standing behind had pineapples and unicorns plastered all over their carry-ons. Nervous for her first single’s cruise, she’d done her research ahead of time and learned that there were ways people advertised what they were looking for in a potential hookup. The pineapple and unicorn specifically indicated the over-sixties pair sought a female to join them for adult fun. When they smiled at Selene and asked if she’d like to meet them for a drink that evening, she politely declined. Yikes. Was this a cruise for older swingers?

Maybe she’d just stay in her room with a book and order in food. Of course, the moment she thought it she remembered her mother’s rebuke, “Don’t you dare hermit yourself on board! This is your chance to let loose. Go a little wild.”

Mom meant well, but she had no idea that if Selene went wild, people might get hurt. Then again, Mom didn’t know how bad the problem had gotten. Selene’s control over her lycan side had gotten worse in the past few years, but she’d kept it to herself, not wanting to worry her family.

As she hefted her roller bag up for screening and placed her purse and shoes in a bin, she noticed a pair of large German shepherds sniffing people and their bags. Drug dogs. She didn’t have any narcotics but, given her lycan heritage, wasn’t surprised when she stepped through the metal detector and was met by the dogs barking in her direction. Even worse, one of the canines broke loose and ran at Selene, snarling and snapping.

As the dog neared, Selene crouched and met its gaze with a firm one of her own. It skidded in surprise, trying to halt its momentum before dropping to its belly. It crawled forward, whining, and Selene cooed, “Who’s a pretty puppy?”

The shepherd rolled to its back and lolled its tongue.

The dog’s handler snared the leash but, rather than thinking the belly rubs were cute, snapped, “Ma’am, are you carrying any illegal substances?”

“No, sir.” Selene remained polite. “Dogs just have a thing for me.”

“This unit is specially trained to detect contraband,” the agent barked.

“Oh, I don’t do drugs. At all. I don’t even like taking Tylenol,” she gushed, trying to keep her anxiety in check.

“In that case, you have nothing to worry about. If you’ll step over here for a moment so we can search your person and belongings to be sure.” The dog handler inclined their head in the direction of a cubicle set up to provide privacy for those pulled aside.

Holding in a sigh, Selene collected her belongings and resigned herself to being strip-searched and questioned. Hopefully it wouldn’t involve latex gloves and probing.

To her surprise, before she’d taken a step, a deep voice with a slight accent said, “That won’t be necessary. She’s with me.”

The agent scowled. “We’re supposed to thoroughly check over anyone that triggers the dogs.”

“Just mention in your report that the dog went to her because she had treats in her pocket.”

“She had treats,” muttered the handler.

Selene blinked, because she most certainly didn’t. However, whoever this guy was, he obviously had some clout since the man with the dog went off to inspect those farther down the line.

She glanced at the handsome man in the posh suit. “You didn’t have to do that. I’m not carrying any drugs.”

“I didn’t figure you were. However, no one wants to start their holiday molested and put through the wringer.”

Her lips twitched. “Don’t be so sure. It would have been the most action I’ve gotten in a while.”

Her riposte had him smiling, and damn, he certainly was attractive. “A lady with a sense of humor. I look forward to getting to know you better once we’re on board,” he said with a smile and a wink.

A shiver went through her. Maybe this cruise wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Might as well introduce herself. “I’m Selene.” She held out her hand.

He clasped it, his grip firm, if chillier than expected given the warm climate. “Dante.”

“As in The Inferno?” she quipped, having read the poem by Dante Alighieri while in college.

“Yes, as a matter of fact. My mother quite liked Dante’s poetry and named me after him.”

“My mother preferred gods and goddesses.”

“So you are Selene, deity of the moon.”

“Correct.” She cocked her head. “And you’re on this cruise?”

“I am.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“Because this doesn’t look like your type of crowd.” She waved a hand at the people waiting to check in for their voyage.

“And what type of crowd do I belong with?” he asked with an arched brow.

“Sorry. That came out wrong. It’s just, you’re in a nice suit, and well, the rest of us are dressed like the tropics puked on us.” She gestured to her white capris and flowered blouse.

The comment made him laugh. “While I’ll admit my wardrobe is not as flamboyant, I do enjoy a nice ocean cruise from time to time. It’s a change of pace from my daily life. What of you? Why are you going? Romantic getaway?”

“Goodness, no. I’m here because my family is hoping I’ll meet someone.” She rolled her eyes. “Only, the odds aren’t looking too good, given a good chunk of the passengers are around my mom’s age.”

“You don’t date older people?”

“There’s a few years older, and then there’s decades.”

“Age is but a number. I’d think that common interests and attraction would be more important,” he stated.

“This might sound rude, but I’d prefer to be with someone who won’t call my generation’s music noise and who doesn’t need to pop a pill for sexy times.”

His laughter brought more shivers to her body. He flashed white teeth, the front canines more pronounced than the rest as he said, “You are quite frank.”

“A fault of mine,” she chirped. “Probably why I’m still single.”

“More likely the men you’ve met have been idiots.”

“Are you here with your partner?” she asked.

“Nope. Single like you, but perhaps this cruise will change that.”

“You’re too pretty to not have a girlfriend,” she blurted out. Blame her racing pulse for being flustered.

“I could say the same of you. You are also very attractive.”

“I am”—she wasn’t about to be coy—“but I don’t get out often. When you live and work on a farm, it’s hard to meet people.”

“Whereas I am usually surrounded by those impressed by my wealth. It makes for less than authentic relationships.”

“You’re rich?” Again, her mouth ran away before her brain could stop it.

“Very,” his dry reply.

“And you’re on this cruise?” She glanced at the banner of hearts hung over the check-in desk. Tacky to the extreme.

“As are you.”

“Only because I can’t afford anything better. Shouldn’t you be on, like, one of those luxury yachts?”

“Surrounded by snobby elites?”

“As opposed to swinging grandmas and grandpas?” she countered.

Once more, his deep laugh emerged. “Please say you will join me this evening for a drink.”

“I don’t drink.”

“It doesn’t have to be alcohol.”

“I’d planned to stay in my room tonight and relax. It’s been a long day. Perhaps we can meet for breakfast when I’m refreshed.”

“Doubtful, as I’m more of a night person. Shall we say, dinner tomorrow?”

Dinner with a stranger? Her first impulse? Say no. But that would defeat the purpose of the cruise. “Sure. Why not.”

“The line’s moving,” he stated. To her surprise, he lifted her suitcase, and in doing so, she noticed his lack of one.

“Where’s your stuff?” she asked as he carried it by the handle rather than rolling it.

“I left it with the porter.”

“I’d hate that.”

“Why?”

“I just like knowing where my stuff has been.” She’d rather not have to wonder who might have opened her bag and touched her undergarments.

“What stateroom did they assign you?” he asked.

“Something on the seventh with a sea terrace.”

“I’m on the twelfth.”

“Those are the luxury suites with deluxe verandahs,” she commented, her eyes widening. Yeah, this guy had money. She’d seen those rooms on the cruise website and the price tag had blown her mind.

“Ah, no verandah. I’m in an interior room.”

“As in, no windows?” She shuddered.

His lips quirked. “A cruise is about spending time out and about.”

“Says you. I brought a few books to tackle.”

“And you don’t plan on taking them with you to a nice chair near the pool?”

“I’d rather read in peace and quiet.”

“What about your family’s decree you find a romantic partner?” Dante asked as a check-in agent called him up.

“I’m not thinking I’ll have much luck given the demographics,” she answered as she stepped up to the agent next to his and handed over her ticket and passport.

“Should I be hurt you’re not considering me?”

She blinked at Dante. “Um, no offense, but it’s quite obvious we’re not in the same league.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Fairly sure your suit costs more than my entire wardrobe.”

He glanced down. “What can I say? I like quality.”

“And I like stuff on sale,” she stated as the crew member handed her a bracelet that would give her access to her room plus the amenities included with her ticket.

“Why do I get the impression you are the type of woman that, on a date, would insist on paying for her portion?”

Her cheek dimpled. “Depends on the man I’m having dinner with.”

“Are you sure you won’t change your mind about joining me this evening?”

Tempting… but at the same time, there was something a little odd about Dante. Mainly his interest in her. The man oozed charm and wealth and had looks galore. Why would he be so focused on her? She might be decent looking, but they were obviously vastly different and not just in social status. It didn’t help he came across as a womanizer. What other kind of man flirted with a woman waiting in line? He’d soon forget about her once on board and got to pick from a wider assortment of ladies.

“Not tonight. Sorry.” She apologized, not because she truly regretted, but because it was the proper Canadian thing to do.

“Then dinner tomorrow for sure. Say seven p.m. in La Maisonette.”

“I don’t think my cruise pass will let me.” She’d paid for the basic meal package, meaning no reservations at the upscale restaurants.

“Just tell the maître d’ that you’re dining with Dante. They’ll allow you entry.”

“Bending the rules before we’ve even left shore?” she stated as they bypassed the embarkation photographer and scanned themselves through the covered gangway to board.

“Always.” He smiled, and if she were any other girl, it would have likely charmed the panties right off her. As it was, he certainly had her blood heating. Not good, as it had her wolf stirring.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at seven then.” Not entirely a lie. She might go, she might not. He’d more than likely forget about her by the time dinner rolled around.

“I shall count the hours. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some matters to attend. But it was a distinct pleasure meeting you, Selene.”

“Ditto,” she chirped.

As Selene stepped into the glitzy lobby of the ship, she parted ways with Dante, resisting the urge to look back. She wasn’t the type of woman who cared if a man checked her out. Usually.

This time, though, something about Dante had her more flushed than usual. Her heart raced, and she found herself inwardly grinning.

After all, who didn’t like a handsome rich man flirting with them?

It sure beat the couple across the hall from her, who leered as she let herself into her room.

True to her word, she unpacked, enjoyed a room service pizza, read her book, and didn’t emerge again until breakfast.

Chapter 2

Through the fiery caverns tumultuous seas we sail.

Dante eyed the change to the poem. It flowed nicely and seemed more apt than the original words to Inferno. Although, the seas had yet to toss them about. But his emotions were certainly aroused.

When he’d skulked about the port, he’d done so observing those boarding. He’d certainly not expected to meet the delightful Selene. A charming woman in her mid-twenties, with a trim figure, pert attitude, and a scent that had him salivating.

Despite his intrigue, he couldn’t forget his real reason for being there. The cruise wasn’t about pleasure but business, a reminder that didn’t ease his distraction. Especially since the lovely Selene had rejected his offer to meet for a drink. Unheard of. Usually, Dante only had to ask and people simply obeyed. But then again, Selene wasn’t like other folk. He could smell the special difference, hence why he’d intervened in the security area.

“Sir.” His assistant cleared his throat. “The passenger list, as requested.”

A smart and focused Dante would have told Renard to take the list away. Instead, Dante held out his hand for the printout. “Thank you, Rennie.”

“May I ask what you’re looking for?”

“I met a passenger.”

“That does happen on a cruise, sir,” his assistant’s dry retort.

“I’m aware. She’s different.”

“Oh. How so?” Rennie asked, entirely too casual. He’d been with Dante long enough to know it took much to pique his interest.

“Let’s just say she and I have some things in common.” Like the fact the humans aboard would arm themselves with pitchforks and torches if they found out who they sailed with.

“She’s a vampire?” Rennie couldn’t hide his shock.

“No. A lycan.” Almost as rare as his kind. Being eternally hunted had a tendency of causing that. Never mind the fact humans had most aspects about his species wrong. Kind of like they misunderstood werewolves.

“A wolf on board? I can see why you’re concerned. Do you want me to handle it?” Rennie often dealt with small threats on his own, despite knowing Dante could protect himself perfectly fine.

“She has no idea what I am.” Lycans could and did pass him in the street, never realizing Dante’s difference. It took a very fine nose to scent his state of being, let alone recognize what it meant.

“But you’re worried she’ll figure it out.”

“Not really. Even if she figures it out, so what? She won’t out me, not without worrying she’ll reveal herself.”

Rennie frowned. “Then why are you checking her out?” Asked because he could see Dante on his laptop doing a search.

“I’m curious about her. She claims she came alone.”

“Wait, you’re interested in her as a paramour?” Rennie gasped.

“She’s very attractive,” Dante stated as he found her name on the list and poked it. “There she is. Selene McMurray, deck seven, just as she said.” It was nice to know that she hadn’t lied, though he wouldn’t have blamed her for not wanting a stranger to know where she slept.

“Making her a commoner.” Rennie almost sneered saying it.

“So are you.”

“Not trying to bang you, sir.”

The riposted curved Dante’s lips. “Neither is she. She refused to meet me for a drink tonight.”

“The horror!” Rennie mocked. “Maybe she’s not into sausage.”

The term had him snorting. “Oh, she likes men, no doubt about that.” The pheromones she’d oozed during their encounter made that very clear.

“She’s married then.”

“Nope. Single and on this cruise to meet guys.”

“Then I don’t understand. Why did she say no? Is she meeting up with some girlfriends?”

“Apparently, she wanted to unpack and read.”

“Read!” Rennie blinked and laughed. “Rejected for a book. Guess you should have whammied her. Then again, you weren’t expecting her to say no. Don’t think that’s ever happened before.”

No, it didn’t, but even more astonishing… “I did try and persuade her after she first turned me down. It failed to have any effect.” A vampire, much like a Jedi, could play mind tricks. Although, the stronger the mind, the more effort it took. In Selene’s case, though, it didn’t matter how hard he pushed; she simply did not fall under his spell.

“She’s immune to vampire charm?” Rennie didn’t hide his astonishment.

“She is.”

“I didn’t know the lycans had that ability.”

“They don’t.” He’d encountered enough of them to know.

“Are you going to tell her what you are?”

“No.” He’d learned his lesson a long time ago. While many women romanticized the notion of a vampire, most couldn’t handle the reality of it. AKA his diet. Unlike some of the modern adaptations, he couldn’t drain animals alone to sustain himself. He needed human blood. That said, though, he still could partake and digest human food. It just didn’t provide the nutritional value he required. That, and he hated vegetables.

“Sounds like you’re planning to spend time with her.”

“She’s meeting me for dinner tomorrow.”

Rennie arched a brow. “Since when do you go on dinner dates?”

“Since she doesn’t drink.” A surprise. It was rare to find someone who didn’t.

“You do realize it’s going to look odd if you order your food rare with minimal side dishes.”

“Not these days. The carnivore movement is gaining momentum.”

“You seem very set on seeing this woman again.”

“I am.”

“Might I remind you, we came on this trip for a specific reason.”

“I can investigate while still indulging in my curiosity about Selene.”

Rennie sighed. “If you insist.”

“You’re awfully impertinent this evening,” Dante pointed out.

“Aren’t you the one always telling me to speak my mind?”

He had. “Sometimes you do that a little too well,” Dante grumbled.

His assistant grinned. “Only because you taught me how.”

Renard had been introduced to Dante at a young age, and he’d taken a shine to the spunky young lad who’d survived some horrific abuse before Dante rescued him. Dante had been after a meal, and he’d feasted on what should have been a childless couple, only to find Rennie locked in the basement. Chained to a wall, half-starved. When Dante removed him, he’d meant to drop him off at a police station. Instead, he’d brought the young boy home, had him educated, bathed, and then trained to be his assistant when Rennie grew to be a young man who refused to leave his side.

“I’m going to take a walk and familiarize myself with the ship.”

“No spying on the woman,” Rennie warned.

“Would I do that?”

“Yes,” the blunt reply. “There’s a difference between flirting and creeping. If you want this woman to like you, then you don’t want her to catch you playing Peeping Tom.”

“As if she’d catch me,” Dante scoffed.

“She’s lycan, meaning she’s got more acute senses, so don’t be stupid.” A pause. “Sir.”

“Impertinent. I don’t know why I pay you,” Dante groused as he slid on a woolen sweater. The evening air at sea could get cool.

“You pay me because I am awesome.”

“And not conceited one bit.”

“That’s priceless coming from the master.”

Dante shook his head as he opened the door. “It’s not conceited if it’s true.”

With that, Dante left his stateroom and stepped into the hallway. Some might find it odd that a luxurious suite existed without outdoor access. However, it was the safest way for him to enjoy the ship, and vampires did so love to cruise. An all-you-can-eat buffet at the fang tips.

Drunken passengers never remembered the guy who’d had a suckle on their neck or nipped an inner thigh. When they woke weak the next day, they assumed a hangover and not blood loss.

Dante strolled from his floor to the section of the ship with all the nighttime action. Music blasted, the pulsing beat monotonous even when the song changed. A brief moment in the first club, which encouraged dancing, showed a good-sized crowd, many of them with flushed cheeks and too-bright eyes.

Despite a good many patrons being of a more mature age, there still remained plenty in their twenties and thirties of both sexes. When it came to food, Dante didn’t have a gender preference. However, with sex? He was as straight as they came.

A stroll through the party area showed a few prospects, but no Selene. Had she truly gone to her room for the night and not just fed him that line so as to avoid him?

With Rennie’s chiding ringing in his ears, Dante stalked to the seventh, his pace slow and measured as he neared her door.

From across her room, a couple exited their chamber, the wife biting her lip. “I don’t think she’s interested, Harry.”

The corpulent fellow blustered, “Please. I saw how she looked at us. She’s hot to trot. Why else would she be on an adults-only cruise?”

“She doesn’t have any stickers on her door,” the woman pointed out, unlike theirs covered in pineapples and flamingoes and unicorns plus a few that were definitely meant to be provocative. Dante shook his head. If a guy ever ended up with an eggplant-looking dick, he should see a doctor. Although, women’s peaches were sweet.

“Can’t hurt to ask.” As the man lifted his fist to knock on Selene’s door, Dante pursed his lips. It wouldn’t do to be caught in the hall by Selene. She’d think him a creeper for sure. At the same time, he wondered if she would even reply.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

No one came to the door, and Harry, of the red-veined nose and heavy gut, huffed, “Guess she’s out partying. Come on, Mary. Let’s go get ourselves a drink.”

Harry lumbered off, and Mary followed, moving past Dante, who oozed a don’t-look vibe.

Once they left, he headed for Selene’s door. She’d gone out. Where? Could he pick up her trail?

A vampire had a decent sense of smell. He could pick up aromas, pheromones if you will, that others couldn’t. It allowed him to recognize a human versus other preternatural beings.

As he neared her door, he had trouble splitting Selene’s scent from all the others that passed through. Meaning either she’d not left, or she’d exited her room a while ago.

He stepped silently to her door and put an ear to it.

Light music played, and he heard a sigh. She remained in her room, but was she alone? For some reason, he had to know.

Dante could have knocked and had her ask how he knew where to find her. Or… He made his way to the far end of the hall, exiting and then emerging on a tiny section of deck at the aft of the ship. Stairs went up and down. He went over the railing, holding tight, mind you. Even he had no interest in landing in the cold dark ocean below. And, no, he couldn’t turn into a bat. A shame. Flying would have been a useful trick.

He slid his way along the outside of the railing, counting terrace doors until he reached one with a light that should be Selene’s. He hopped onto her balcony and clung to the shadowy partition that separated her outdoor space from the cabin alongside. She’d only partially drawn the drapes, allowing him to peek inside.

An all-alone Selene lay on the bed on her belly, reading a book. No glass of booze nearby, just a bottle of water and a bag of cheese puffs.

Hunh. He’d not seriously expected her to do exactly as she’d claimed. Who came on a cruise to stay in their room and read?

Apparently, this woman did.

Abruptly, she rolled and stretched before rising, her skimpy shorts revealing lean legs, her T-shirt clinging to her braless breasts. As she approached the sliding door, he silently cursed before flinging himself over the rail and quickly slipping onto the terrace next door. He stood and listened as she exited, heard her exhale, and then draw in a deep breath of night air.

But it was her murmur that excited.

“Even out here, it’s like I can still smell you.” She sighed. “Maybe I should have joined you for a drink.”

Yes, she should have.

“Bah. I’m a fool. Talking to myself about a guy who probably forgot me the moment we met.”

As if she could be so simply discarded.

“Question is, do I go to dinner tomorrow?”

Yes.

“I’ll feel like a fool if I show up and he’s surprised to see me.”

How could you think that?

“He’s way too pretty.”

Thank you.

“Probably better if I forget about him.”

Um, no.

“I don’t think my family meant for me to hook up with a womanizer.”

Yeah, I have no argument for that.

“Would it be so bad to let loose and have a little fun, though?”

You really should try it.

She inhaled deeply. “Why can’t I stop smelling his cologne?”

Shit. He’d forgotten about her sharp sense of smell.

The light came on in the room whose terrace he’d borrowed. He shot a glance at the gap in the curtain to see a couple entering, their voices muffled but clear enough he heard, “Join me outside for a nightcap?”

He had to leave. Now. But Selene remained on her terrace, and worse, leaning on the rail, she’d see him for sure if he climbed over.

Just in time, she returned to her room, and he swung over the rail and slid sideways a moment before the couple emerged.

He made it safely back inside the stairway, his mind full of Selene until he heard a raspy whisper from below.

“I can’t wait to ditch this job.”

“Fucking rich, entitled Westerners,” replied a heavily accented voice.

“Not for long,” cackled the other.

Those suspicious words reminded him why he’d come aboard.

With Selene in her room for the night, Dante decided to go find himself some supper—and answers.

COLLAPSE
Find a StoreApple BooksBarnes and NobleGooglePlayKoboAmazon/KindleAudiobook
If you like My Boyfriend Bites, you might be interested in:
Book Cover: Even Crazier

Even Crazier

Book Cover: Jungle Freakn' Bride

Jungle Freakn' Bride

Book Cover: Indecent Werewolf Exposure

Indecent Werewolf Exposure

Dancer and the Ice Bear

loading images
LOADING IMAGES
Book Cover: Dancer and the Ice Bear
Find a StoreAmazon/KindleGooglePlayBarnes and NobleApple BooksKobo
Part of the Furry United Coalition (FUC) series:
  • Bunny and the Bear
  • Swan and the Bear
  • Croc and the Fox
  • Lion and the Falcon
  • Doe and the Wolf
  • Ostrich and the ‘Roo
  • ‘Roo and the Angel
  • Panda and the Kitty
  • Dancer and the Ice Bear

Deck the horns for your holiday FUC.

Holy jingle bells, Krampus has taken Santa’s Village hostage and it’s up to Dancer to fly into action and save Christmas!

Alas, her nose doesn’t shine bright like that annoying braggart Rudolph, and on her way to secure aid, she gets lost in a blizzard. Luckily, she crash-lands outside the home of a former FUC soldier, a polar bear with the know-how and connections to mount a rescue. Only Nanook refuses to help because this grumpy Scrooge hates the holidays.

However, the ice bear changes his mind when Krampus strikes close to home, kidnapping all the children in town—including Nanook’s twin daughters. With a fire lit under his furry butt, Nanook is ready to roar to the rescue and recruits a furry-minded crew to help him oust Krampus from Santa’s Village.

They’ll need to shake a paw if they’re going to pull off a holiday miracle, especially Dancer, who faces the biggest challenge of all; melting an ice bear’s heart.

Full List of Stores

Published: 2024-12-12
Cover Artists:
Dreams2Media
Genres:
Holiday Romance, Paranormal Romance, Romantic Comedy, Shapeshifter Romance
Tags:
english
Excerpt:

Chapter 1

A hungover Dancer woke and stretched, wondered why she was chilled, only to realize she’d passed out in a snowbank. Blame the pre-pre-pre-Christmas party, which had been quite the event. Candy cane shots, gingerbread rum cake, some brandied cherries. She’d partaken of it all, even as she knew she couldn’t hold her liquor. No surprise she ended up wasted. She had a faint recollection of dancing on some tables—and throwing up on a potted poinsettia. At least she’d turned down the elf that propositioned her.

Utterly blasted, she didn’t recall shifting into her reindeer shape or exiting the village. Thankfully, nothing ate her while she was passed out. Predators roamed outside Santa’s Village, and some loved the taste of reindeer meat.

READ MORE

Dancer sat up and shook snow from her velvety antlers. Bad idea. Her head hurt, pounded like a child getting their first drum set under the tree. At her age, she should know better than to get sloshed, especially this close to Christmas. Santa expected all his reindeer to be in fit form, but in her defense, she’d been trying to mend her broken heart.

The bull she’d had her sights set on was engaged to another. It should be noted Rudolph never showed her the slightest interest, and yet she’d been hopeful that—as she was the only other reindeer misfit—they’d be naturally drawn to each other. Him with his glowing red nose, her with the horny nubs that didn’t disappear when she shifted. Her deformity meant she couldn’t date outside of, or even leave, the North Pole because she couldn’t be seen in public—unless she wanted to end up with her head mounted on someone’s wall or as a lab specimen dissected by curious humans.

Her inability to leave the North Pole shattered her dream of one day becoming a FUC agent and fighting crime. Some would say she should be happy she got to work for the jolliest man on Earth, but those people obviously had never worked for the big man. Santa trained them hard, had to since he wouldn’t lay off the jelly donuts. They’d had to reinforce the sled for the second time in as many years.

Thinking of her boss made her squint at the dark sky, the usual for this time of the year in the North Pole. They wouldn’t see sunlight again until March. According to the position of stars, morning fast approached, and if she didn’t get moving, she’d be late for sleigh training. Not a good idea, as it would ruin her bid to lead the team this year. Not that she stood a chance. Rudolph had the big guy wrapped around his ruby-red nose.

Dancer pushed herself up from the snow, swaying on her wobbly legs. Maybe she should send a message she couldn’t make training because she was sick. Sick with the candy cane flu.

A scream from inside the village made the nutcrackers in her head clack their jaws harder. Ow. Some people had zero consideration for the hungover.

“Run for your lives!” an elf yelled, his high-pitched voice carrying and adding to the pounding discomfort.

Probably a Yeti incursion. They liked to raid around Christmas, knowing the elves would be baking their favorite treat—fruit cake. The QUEEFS—Quick Uber Elite Elf Fighting Squad—would handle it. The combat-trained elves were the village defence against predators. Dancer had applied when her dream of being a FUC agent fell through, but not being an elf, she got rejected immediately.

Totally unfair.

Dancer took a moment to stretch her stiff limbs. At least she’d shifted before collapsing in the snowbank. Nothing worse than waking up with frostbite, especially given the remedy tasted so foul. Whoever came up with the idea of mixing cinnamon with bourbon, crème de menthe, and turkey broth should have their taste buds checked.

As she rose to her wobbly hoofs, more yelling occurred. The QUEEFS must have mustered to repel the Yeti.

As she went to totter around the mound of snow—sidestepping a pile of puke with chunks of cherries—a puffin came waddling past.

She bleated a querying note at his panic.

The puffin, known as Joe, paused, and his eyes widened at the sight of her.

“Run!” squeaked her friend, who could speak in his bird shape.

She huffed. As if she’d flee. It was just a Yeti. The QUEEFS would toss it some fruitcakes until it stopped smashing the gingerbread houses. Not exactly the best building material, but the elves preferred it over igloos.

“It’s not a Yeti,” Joe huffed, understanding her disdain. “The village is being attacked by Krampus.”

She uttered a scoffing snort.

“I swear it’s true. Someone calling themselves Krampus has arrived with an army. Santa’s workshop is under siege.”

Her muzzle dropped open in shock.

“He’s got wolverines and walrus rounding up everyone. Flee while you can.”

Flee? No way. This was her chance to fight. Dancer suddenly had visions of grandeur. If she saved Christmas, Santa would be so thankful he’d let her lead the sleigh instead of Rudolph.

Joe scurried off as something exploded in the village and sent up a cloud of multicolored smoke. The damage to the paint factory would slow down production in the New Year. Good thing the elves had already finished this year’s batch of toys.

Despite her pounding head, she had to act, even as she didn’t know what she could do. She’d never trained to fight. Then again, perhaps Joe misunderstood the situation. Puffins weren’t known for their intelligence. A peek at the situation seemed called for.

A quick trot brought her around the snowbank and in sight of the village.

A village under attack.

Elves ran to and fro, chased by wolverines who appeared to be herding them in the direction of Gingerbread Hall. Walrus stood guard at the village entrance, kind of a misnomer since there was no wall or fence around the place.

While the place appeared overrun, the QUEEFS were trying their best to repel. Armed with candy cane shooters, hot cocoa throwers, and licorice whips, they went after the invaders. However, a forty-pound elf was no match for a ridiculously heavy walrus.

The red and white striped missiles bounced off the hide of the big male that humped its way toward the squad, which splintered and bolted in different directions.

As she watched, another explosion rocked the snow underfoot, and a river of hot taffy began rolling through the icy lanes, coating everything in its path, from elf to walrus. It proved especially painful to listen to Freezo the Snowman scream, “I’m melting.”

It occurred to Dancer that she alone would not be enough to turn the tide. Walrus outweighed her and could be nasty with those goring tusks. Wolverines loved to tear out tendons to topple the four-legged. Saving the village would require help beyond that which the QUEEFS could provide, but the nearest FUC outpost was in Greenland, which meant crossing the Arctic Sea. She could swim, but she’d freeze, drown, or get eaten before she managed to traverse the five hundred-plus miles.

It would have been an easy trip if she could fly, only she couldn’t soar without Santa’s dust, which he kept locked away in a vault along with his bible of Good and Naughty Children.

However, she knew where to find a hidden stash. Her good friend Comet had managed to filch some so she could visit her boyfriend in Alert, Nunavut.

Dancer retreated from the village and trotted to the training field where Santa had an obstacle course set up for them to run their paces. Chimneys for them to leap over. Narrow roofs that required precise landing lest the sleigh fall off. Steep sloping tile. Asphalt surface. Woven grass. Every kind of roof dotted the field, as Santa took their training seriously.

The special dust had been tucked inside a chimney, and as Dancer pulled the baggie out with her teeth, she heard a grunt. A glance behind showed a walrus humping in her direction.

Jumping hollyberries, she had to speed up. Dancer tugged at the drawstring with her teeth, loosening it enough to see there weren’t many precious sprinkles left.

A loud whistle by the walrus brought some wolverines yipping.

Time to go. She upended the bag, and dust dumped out, landing on the hard ice. Dancer bent her head and sniffed the powder, feeling it tickle as it went up her nose. She would have liked to have snorted more, but those wily polar devils were coming at her fast.

Hopefully she’d inhaled enough. She began to run, her long legs stretching, her adrenaline sluggishly waking and erasing the last remnants of her hangover.

She didn’t have a proper runway to get up to speed. However, she did have motivation, as the racing wolverines got closer, slavering with excitement.

On Dancer and Dancer and Dancer and Dancer. She encouraged herself using Santa’s chant, wondering if any of her reindeer friends survived the attack. She almost stumbled at the thought she might be the only one left.

A chimney in her way led to her making a mighty leap. For a second, she remained aloft, but the powder hadn’t fully taken effect. She needed her blood coursing, moving the dust through her body. She huffed hotly as she strained, moving her legs rapidly.

Snap. The jaws that snapped much too close to her hindquarters startled her into jumping again, her legs still pedaling. This time she didn’t sink back down. She went up.

And up.

Only as she realized she flew did she glance down to see the wolverines converging under her, muzzles upturned in anticipation.

Not today, mongrels.

Dancer ran on air, heading for the Arctic Sea, racing as fast as she could, knowing the power would run out and she needed to reach land before that happened. She used the stars to guide her route, something she’d been taught but never had to do before. It was eerie flying by herself. Usually, she only ever took the skies with the team. But if Comet could do it to get laid, then so could she!

She might have made it to Greenland had a storm not suddenly developed. Dark clouds, heavy snow, whipping winds. She fought against the buffeting tempest, disoriented, tired, but determined.

Bad weather wasn’t new. She’d flown through worse. Only, she usually had Santa and Rudolph to guide her.

When the dust began to fail, she found herself losing altitude, sinking, sinking. The only reason she didn’t panic? The dark churning sea had changed to white, meaning she’d reached solid ground. She kept descending, readying to land. The storm chose to kick up a notch, rendering visibility to nil, which was how she ended up slamming into a mountain.

Chapter 2

Nanook heard the excited shrieks and grumbled. Why, oh why, wouldn’t his darling hellions nap anymore? There used to be a time when they’d all snuggle in a furry big pile, having the grandest slumbers. However, his daughters, having recently turned five, made it clear those days were done.

He rolled from his comfy chair to the floor on his four paws and gave a quick glance around. He could hear their excited chatter but didn’t see them inside the cave. Those precocious brats had gone outside into the nasty storm.

Before he could exit and give them a stern scolding, and see what had their fur in a fluff, they entered huffing and chuffing. Pure white and cuddly, their coats laced in snow, seeing their blatant disregard for his rules led him to shift and bellow, “What were you doing outside without me?” While he encouraged independence, he did require they remain within his sights, given the predators that would gladly take down a still-learning cub.

Siku shifted and clapped her hands as she squealed. “Dada! We found something.”

“Found what?”

The reply came from Sesi, who also transformed. “A woman with horns.”

He blinked, mostly because the statement made no sense. “Do you mean a caribou?” Herds of them inhabited Ellesmere Island.

“Yes and no. You have to help her. She was too heavy for us to lift.” Siku pointed to the doorway with its weighted leather flap to keep out most of the snow and cold drafts.

Obviously, there was a communication issue. While his girls were highly intelligent, their young age made them perceive the world differently than an adult. Still, their claim bore checking out.

“You stay here while I go have a look.”

He swapped back into his bear rather than get dressed. Maybe he could finish that nap before dinner.

Out into the storm he lumbered, the whipping snow reducing visibility and clinging to his fur, not that it bothered him. They didn’t call his kind ice bears for nothing.

He didn’t have to go far to find what had his daughters in a tizzy. He immediately spotted the woman lying in a heap in the snow.

A nude female to be exact, smelling of caribou, with antler nubs peeking from her hair.

He blinked, but the horns remained. Well damn. His daughters weren’t confused after all. But he had a dilemma. What to do with her? Leaving her outside, she’d die for sure. Bringing her inside meant dealing with a stranger. He didn’t like outsiders, or people in general.

In this scenario, he didn’t have a choice. He’d warm her up and set her on her way. He grabbed the female and heaved her over his shoulder. He brought her inside and dumped her naked butt on the wolf skin rug. She flopped onto her back, which meant noticing, despite her frigid pallor, the stranger had an attractive countenance and a fine form.

While not a gentlebear, he glanced away.

Siku clapped her hands. “She’s pretty. Can we keep her?”

“Yes, Dada, can we?” Sesi squealed.

He shifted and grabbed his robe before muttering, “No, we cannot keep her. She’s not a pet.”

“I know that,” Siku huffed, rolling her eyes. Where had she learned that? Probably her cousins whom they’d visited recently when they went to get supplies.

“She can be our mommy,” Sesi declared. She and her twin had been bugging him of late about how they didn’t have one. Apparently, they’d reached an age where they noticed such things. When they asked where their mother went, rather than say off sucking an elf’s dick, he’d muttered, She died. Seemed kinder than explaining the slag abandoned them without a second thought.

“You can’t just decide a random stranger is going to be your mother,” he pointed out, tossing a blanket over the stranger. His logic didn’t deter his stubborn girls.

“Yes, we can,” Siku insisted. “Rory got a new daddy. Rory says his mommy found him when she went to Alert for supplies.” Patty never met a man she didn’t want to bring home, although the most recent one had lasted longer than most at six months.

“How come you never brought home a mommy when you went to Alert?” added Sesi. Alert was the nearest town, if you could call a place with less than two hundred people a town. Ellesmere Island being remote with harsh seasons didn’t exactly boast a huge population. A few hundred people at most.

“Because we don’t need a mother. You have me, the best father ever.”

The girls eyed each other and used that secret twin connection they’d been born with to say in synchronization, “We want one.”

“This one,” Siku emphasized.

“The answer is no. It’s not up to the kids to choose a mommy.”

“Who chooses then?” Sesi cocked her head as she asked.

“Is there a store to find a mommy?” his other innocent daughter asked.

Was he really going to have to tell them about the bears and the bees? “You can’t buy a mommy, or a daddy for that matter.” Then, because they were opening his mouths to bombard him, he added, “What usually happens is a man and a woman will meet, and if they really like each other, they might decide to live together and be a family.”

“How can you meet someone when you don’t go anywhere?” Siku pointed out.

“And you hate everyone,” Sesi stated.

His girls knew him all too well, and they raised valid points, which he didn’t want to address, so he diverted their reasoning. “Has it occurred to you that maybe this woman doesn’t want to be a mommy?”

Again, the twins shared a secret look before saying, “Why wouldn’t she want us?”

Siku’s lower lip jutted. “Are you saying we’re not cute?”

“Are we not perfect?” Sesi’s eyes brimmed.

“Of course, you’re cute.” And excellent at using it to their advantage. “And perfect.” Perfectly capable of driving him up an iceberg.

“Then she will want to be our mommy and tuck us in and read us stories—”

“And bake cookies!” Sesi declared, interrupting her sister.

Nanook held in a sigh. He’d been doing that more and more often of late. It began when his cubs learned to speak and had been snowballing as their bright little minds grasped more than they should.

Who knew what they’d start demanding once they started school? They’d turned five, and while they didn’t have to attend kindergarten by law at that age, he knew they’d have to go to school eventually, which meant moving from his very remote cave to a place with people.

He disliked most people, but he loved his daughters, hence why they’d be relocating in the spring so they could start school in the fall. Not in Santa’s Village, though, even if they had an excellent scholastic program. He still couldn’t see or hear about anything Christmas without getting into a snarling rage.

“Tell you what. Once we move to the cape, I will hire a nanny who can bake and read stories.” A good compromise in his mind.

“A nanny is not a mommy,” Sesi stubbornly insisted.

“Close enough. Now enough of that kind of talk. I think she’s waking.”

Indeed, the woman stirred, rustling the fur blanket covering her lush frame.

A body he surprisingly admired. How long since he’d paid any attention to the opposite sex? He blamed his daughters’ big idea for his ogling. Making this random stranger their mommy, indeed. Never again. He’d sworn off relationships after the fiasco with Anjij.

The stranger opened her eyes, blinked at him, and murmured, “Please don’t eat me, Mr. Bear.” Her sense of smell must be working.

Siku giggled. “Dada doesn’t eat people. His favorite food is whales.”

“Which are blech.” Siku stuck out her tongue. “Burgers are better.”

“Er, what?” The woman blinked and sat up, holding the blanket to her chest as she glanced around. “Where am I?”

“In our house,” Sesi chirped.

“And your house is where, exactly?” Asked as she stood. The stranger put a hand to her head and swayed on her feet. “Oh, peppermint sticks. I must have crashed hard.”

“Were you driving a snowmobile?” Siku asked. “Uncle Arnie broke his. Aunt Kira said he crashed it ’cause he’s a dumb bear who rides too fast.”

“No, no snowmobile. I was flying,” the woman murmured.

“You’re a bird?” Sesi’s nose wrinkled, and Nanook understood her confusion. The woman’s scent was the distinct one of a caribou… but caribou didn’t fly. It hit him then. Oh, frozen shitsicle.

“You’re a reindeer!” Which, for the confused, was the European name for caribou. Why the difference, he couldn’t have said.

“I am. And you’re a polar bear. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way—"

“You’re one of them,” Nanook harrumphed, glaring at her.

“Excuse me?”

“One of the reindeer on his team,” he growled, avoiding the S word.

“I am.” Her chin lifted. “Dancer Lightfoot, second lead. And you are?”

“Not interested in dealing with you. Buh-bye.” He stood by the door and gave a scooting gesture.

She pursed her lips. “It’s still storming outside.”

“And?”

“While I’d love to accommodate your request, it would be foolish of me since I can’t get my bearings until it stops.”

A valid point. “Fine, you can stay until it dies down, but then I want you gone.”

“Goodness. Someone is a Grinch,” Dancer huffed.

“What’s a Grinch?” asked Sesi.

“Someone who hates Santa,” the woman replied.

“What’s a Santa?” was Siku’s next question.

“Wait, how do you not know who Santa is?” Dancer sounded shocked.

Nanook had to act fast. “Girls, if you don’t mind, I’d like a private chat with our guest.”

“But, Dada, we found her,” whined Sesi.

“Finders-keepers, remember?” Siku reminded.

“That doesn’t apply to people,” he snapped as he grabbed Dancer by the arm and dragged her from the main living area to his bedroom. Before he could explain she needed to keep her Santa nonsense to herself, Dancer exclaimed, “This is the nicest cave I’ve ever seen. It’s so big. How many rooms?”

“Five. Now about—”

“Five? It’s a veritable mansion. Did you carve it out of the mountain yourself?”

“Parts of it, yes. Now—”

“This is very impressive.” She dragged her fingers over the smooth wall, chiseled in his spare time.

The compliment puffed his chest but did nothing for his attitude. “Forget about my house. It isn’t important. You are not to mention Santa or anything Christmas to the girls.”

“Why ever not?”

“Because Christmas is banned in my home.”

“Banned?” She ogled him. “Isn’t that unfair to your daughters?”

She zeroed in on the guilt he kept stuffing down—deep down. Not everyone celebrated that dreaded holiday. His girls were doing just fine. “They can’t miss what they don’t know.”

“But what about their presents? I’ll bet they’re on Santa’s good list. You’re depriving them of—”

“Nothing. They have everything they could need. A roof over their head. Food for their bellies. Books to read.”

“What about toys?”

“They have some, but then again, who needs fabricated items when there’s a world outside to explore?”

“Glad you’re not my dad,” she muttered.

So was he because his body’s reaction to the very attractive reindeer would have been wildly inappropriate.

COLLAPSE
Find a StoreAmazon/KindleGooglePlayBarnes and NobleApple BooksKobo
If you like Dancer and the Ice Bear, you might be interested in:
Book Cover: Slaughter Daughter

Slaughter Daughter

Book Cover: Accidental Abduction

Accidental Abduction

Book Cover: Lady's Steed

Lady's Steed

My Girlfriend is a Werewolf

loading images
LOADING IMAGES
Book Cover: My Girlfriend is a Werewolf
Find a StoreGooglePlayApple BooksAmazon/KindleBarnes and NobleKoboAudiobook
Part of the A Moonstruck Mating series:
  • My Girlfriend is a Werewolf
  • My Boyfriend Marks Trees
  • My Boyfriend Bites
  • A Moonstruck Mating Books 1 – 3

I’ve licked him. He’s mine.

Running into a strange white wolf isn’t an everyday occurrence in Derek’s life. Neither is finding a naked—and beautiful—woman alone in the park. Had the wolf been an omen of what was yet to come? Because since meeting Athena, Derek’s life’s been upended.

Chased by thugs and with a ransom on her head, Athena isn’t divulging why she’s a wanted woman. Derek helps her anyway since he’s a gentleman and she keeps his curiosity—and other things—piqued. Besides, he’ll be damned if some greedy doctor is going to kidnap and experiment on innocent people in his own backyard.

But he can’t help but notice Athena’s great sense of smell, or her proclivity for chasing rabbits, or the way she disappears every full moon…

Turns out his Athena’s got a hairy secret.

A howling whopper of one.

Guess he’d better stock up on flea collars and kibble because My Girlfriend is a Werewolf.

Full List of Stores

 

Published: 2024-10-17
Cover Artists:
Atra Luna's Book Cover and Logo Art
Genres:
dark humor, killer heroine, Paranormal Romance, Romantic Comedy, Shapeshifter Romance, werewolf romance
Tags:
english
Excerpt:

Chapter 1

The full moon would be rising after dinner, which meant no more screwing around. Athena needed out of her prison before anyone confirmed her secret. She’d done well holding tight, not giving into the anger when they spent hours hosing her down with frigid water. She’d not barked once when they forced her to spend time with cats or someone delivered something to her cell. The sirens they played had her tempted to howl, but she bit her tongue.

Pretending to be a normal human being took its toll, but she’d managed thus far. However, Athena couldn’t do anything about the blood and tissue samples the various technicians took. At least she could be comforted with the fact a few weird chromosomes didn’t mean shit without proof of what that special twist in her DNA meant.

But she wouldn’t be able to hide her secret tonight.

READ MORE

A week of flirting with her afternoon guard would hopefully pay off. She needed to escape before they trotted her outside and exposed her to moonlight—the one thing she couldn’t resist.

Simon, the guy on shift, arrived with her meal tray, and Athena offered him a simpering smile as he brought it into her cell. He no longer gave her the daily warning to stand in the far corner. Her ploy to fool him into thinking her harmless appeared to be working.

As Simon set down her dinner, she murmured, “Thanks. You take such good care of me.” Athena batted her lashes so hard they almost took flight.

“Just doing my job.” Simon hitched his pants by the loops and puffed his barrel chest. A thick fellow, but she’d tussled with bigger.

“Guess after tonight we won’t see each other anymore once they realize I’m not what they think I am.” Her lips turned down in feigned sadness.

“You could call me when you’re released,” he offered. “We could go to dinner and stuff.”

“If only that were possible. Given what I know about this facility, I fear what they’ll do to me.” She ducked her head as she played the melodramatic damsel.

“I’m sure Dr. Rogers won’t do anything drastic. Mistakes happen.”

Of course, Simon would defend the doctor who’d been the one to trap her and organize the tests. Everyone in this installation worshipped Dr. Rogers, the man who’d caught the first Sasquatch. The guy who’d proved the existence of Ogopogo while also disproving Nessie using some kind of deep sonar tech. And now Dr. Rogers planned to out lycanthropes.

She still had no idea how he’d sniffed out her existence. Athena always took great care to never be seen when she ran on four feet.

“I hope you’re right and this is all a big misunderstanding, but what if this is my last moment on Earth?” She clutched her chest. “What if my last kiss was that slobbery one by that drunk in a bar? If only I had a nicer memory to take with me.”

Simon blinked, and it took his pea-sized brain a second to figure out what she hinted at.

“Uh, er…” He glanced at the camera in the cell with its red blinking light.

Someone always watched and listened. It took everything in her to be as boring as possible. Lying on her cot counting the dots in the ceiling tile. Staring off blankly into space. When she couldn’t stand to be sedentary, she’d do push-ups or jumping jacks but not so many as to seem suspicious.

They must be wondering by now if they’d assumed wrong since she’d not once peed in a corner nor wagged her butt in excitement when her dinner came with dessert.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even asked. I’m just so scared! It’s so unfair. I didn’t do anything,” she exclaimed and grabbed the pudding—chocolate, her favorite—and threw it. Her aim proved good, as it hit the camera and gooey goodness smothered the lens, ruining their eyes and hopefully muffling their ears. She wouldn’t have long.

“Oh shit,” Simon muttered, eyeing the mess.

She grabbed him by the shirt. “Quick, kiss me before they come.”

“Uh…”

What a meathead. Would she have to do everything?

A mash of her mouth to Simon’s distracted as she divested him of the notepad in his back pocket, where she knew he kept the door codes written because Simon couldn’t remember the many-numbered sequences. She’d been carefully scouting which of the guards she could use in her escape, and Simple Simon won hands-down.

As Simon began to moan, she suddenly shoved him in the direction of the cot. The backs of his legs hit it, and he fell hard. Bemused, he didn’t immediately clue in that she’d exited to the hall, but he started yelling when she slammed the cell door shut.

Step one, get out of her room. Done.

She ran up the hall, bare feet slapping the cold tile. The next door had a keypad. She flipped open the notebook and could have cursed at the sloppy writing. Simon had several entries; Main, Pretty Girl, Ugly Dude. Hall 1, Hall 2, Stairs, Yard.

Which one to use? When Hall 1 didn’t work, she cursed and quickly punched Hall 2. As the door clicked and she yanked it open, an alarm went off.

Things were about to get dicey. Usually her favorite kind.

The next hall held a woman in a lab coat carrying a tablet. Dr. Lanier, the psychologist who’d been trying to trick Athena into admitting her furry side.

As if. Athena had been taught from a young age to never ever say a thing. Daddy might be gone now, but his lessons remained.

“What are you doing out of your cell?” Dr. Lanier squeaked.

“Blowing this joint. I’d say nice knowing you, but that would be a lie,” Athena grumbled as she barreled for the woman. Lanier did nothing to stop her, unless screeching, “Help!” counted.

The shoulder Athena used to ram the doctor aside proved satisfying. Not as satisfying as, say, biting her, but Athena didn’t have time for revenge. Plotting retaliation would come later.

If she escaped.

The next keypad unlocked the door the moment she punched in the code for the stairs. It opened onto a staircase and elevator. Since the numbers showed it coming down, she fled up the steps and ran into a pair of soldiers descending. Her momentum let her drive into their legs and send them tumbling. She continued her bolt upwards, only to stop in surprise at the first-floor landing.

Dr. Rogers stood there waiting for the elevator. A pair of armed guards flanked the tall man with his wire-rimmed glasses, bowtie, and customary white coat. The guards aimed their revolvers at Athena.

Dr. Rogers yelled, “Don’t shoot to kill. We need her alive.”

A fellow with an impressive mustache said, “So aim for a leg or an arm?”

Their hesitation gave Athena the chance she needed. She roundhouse-kicked the gun out of one hand and followed with an uppercut to the second guy. As they reeled in surprise, a left hook plus a right cross laid another two other guards flat out. Thank you, Daddy, for the lessons and increased strength. Athena might not look it, but she could pack a punch.

The doctor didn’t look impressed she’d taken out his security. “There is no escape. Even if you make it out of the facility, I will find you.”

“You’re assuming I won’t find you first,” she chirped. “I’ll be seeing you…” She waved as she slammed through the door that led to the lobby. A lobby full of armed guards who eyed her in shock.

As guns left holsters, the doctor saved her again. “Don’t you dare use those weapons. Someone fetch the tranquilizer guns.”

Since the lobby area had too many even for her to slam through, Athena ran the other way, heading for the door that led to the yard. Dr. Rogers had been having her escorted to it nightly as the moon got fatter and fatter.

‘Yard’ proved to be a bit of a misnomer. It was a concrete space surrounded by barbed-wire fencing. Beyond it, a line of trees thick enough to prevent casual passersby from spying. Wouldn’t the folks in Ottawa be surprised to know the Experimental Farm wasn’t just about testing crops? Their basement level hosted a lab for other things.

The fencing with its sharp tines would hurt, but Athena preferred a bit of pain to being incarcerated and outed. However, to give herself the best chance, the shirt came off, and as she ran, she tore the thin fabric of the scrub top to wrap around her hands. The barbed metal still bit her flesh, but she gritted her teeth and climbed, even as she could hear the commotion at her back.

Despite expecting to be shot—probably in the ass with her luck—she kept ascending.

“Shoot the darts!” Dr. Rogers screamed. “Quick. She’s about to escape.”

Indeed, she was. Freedom beckoned, but she’d be cutting it close. Blame Simon for arriving later than usual. Twilight would shortly descend, and that meant the pull of the moon was strong as it began to rise in the coming night sky.

Athena hit the ground on the other side of the fence with a grunt and a bend of the knees. A good thing she’d ducked as a dart whizzed over her head, the soldier having gotten lucky and shot it through the diamond-shaped holes in the fence.

Her bare feet pounded the ground as she took off running, immediately heading for the woods where she could use the shadows and branches to make it harder for them to aim.

As she sprinted, her skin began tingling in warning. She gritted her teeth against it. Not yet. She needed to be out of sight, not only of human eyes but electronic ones.

As she burst from the tree line, moonlight hit, and she couldn’t fight it anymore. No lycanthrope could. The change came quickly, not a magical transition from human to wolf, but also not the violent tearing that Netflix portrayed in Hemlock Grove. More like seconds of joint popping, skin shivering, and senses muffled before she hit the ground on four paws.

Athena ran. Ran faster than the shouting soldiers chasing her.

The problem then became, where to go?

Home was out of the question, as was hitting up her friends or family. She had no money for a motel. So what did that leave?

Hours later, she still had no clue, until she saw the jogger being accosted and joined the fight.

Chapter 2

Derek browsed his local Reddit for news as he waited for the elevator in his apartment building. Mostly the same old thing.

Why are people so rude these days?

OMG rent is outrageous.

And then a new one…

White wolf sighted along Rideau Canal. And within the last hour, too.

He snorted. More likely a large dog or a coyote. Ontario had wolves, but they tended to stay far from big cities like Ottawa.

As the bell dinged and the elevator door slid open, he tucked his phone into the armband he wore for jogging. He probably should have taken the stairs down, but the last time, someone had pissed in the stairwell, and he’d stepped in it. Those shoes got tossed. It was one thing to piss on his own shoes because he was drunk and lacked aim, another to slosh around in someone else’s urine.

As Derek exited his building, he broke into a light jog. Fall, his favorite time of year. The evenings got dark early, the air crisp instead of redolent like in summer with the festering garbage. Even better, fewer people on the trails running along the river so he could jog without having to play dodge the pedestrian. Then again, not many people out and about this time of night. He’d worked a graveyard shift, getting off at four instead of one since someone failed to show, home by five because transit sucked. Despite the hour, he liked to indulge in a quick jog then be in bed by dawn so he could get up early afternoon to do it again. Not ideal, but rent needed to be paid.

He might not have minded his dull life so much if he at least had a girlfriend. His last one hadn’t worked out. Apparently, after six months of dating, him saying “We should move in together” was controlling. According to Stacy, “You’re stifling me. I need my space.” It should be noted they saw each other maybe once a week, given their alternating schedules. The whole let’s-live-together thing had been his way of spending more time with her since she’d also complained, “I never see you.”

At thirty-three, Derek could safely say he didn’t understand women, but that didn’t deter him. As his grams always said, “There’s a bitch out there somewhere, you little bastard. So chin up, make sure to wash your bits, and whatever you do, don’t tell them you like pineapple on pizza.” Because, according to his grandma, women would run screaming if they knew.

Grams tended to tell things straight with many cuss words. It made school concerts growing up entertaining because Grandma had no problem hollering, “Sit your ass down. Some of us want to see something other than your talentless jizz.” Also amusing? Her ranting as the refs tossed her out of his hockey games for taunting the opposing team. Then there was the grilling of Derek’s potential GF’s with questions like, “Can you cook, or is your idea of fine dining opening a can?” “You going to be true to my grandson, or am I gonna have to take you out to the woodshed for a chat?” His favorite… “So what prepping have you done for the apocalypse?” For some reason, that question sent a few running. Good. Derek didn’t need someone who would question his stockpile of water, Ramen noodles, and his bug-out bag for when shit hit the fan.

He'd yet to meet a woman who passed the Grams test, although a few, after meeting her, did think they could demand he cut her out of his life. Like fuck. Love me, love my family.

Heavy metal blasted in his air pods, the heavy beat the perfect accompaniment for the slap of his sneakers on pavement. The lights along the canal lit the path well until a section by a bench overlooking the water. Burnt out or vandalized? Probably the latter. Since the pandemic, crime had gotten worse.

Speaking of which, as he entered the dark section, three dudes wearing face masks, bulky hoodies, and oozing attitude stepped into his path.

Derek slowed his jog and drawled, “Morning, fellas.” Because with dawn about to burst, it was no longer night.

“Give us your stuff.” The skinniest one held out his hand.

Derek arched a brow. “I’d rather not. I hate setting up new phones.”

“Hand it over or else,” a second dude ordered, whipping out a switchblade.

It led to Derek eyeballing guy number three. “Let’s hear it. Don’t let your buddies get all the threatening glory.”

“Uh…” Guy number three apparently didn’t have a catch phrase of his own.

“Okay boys, let’s get this done.” It should be noted, Grams didn’t just teach him how to swear more mightily than a trucker—and she could get quite creative when it came to cussing at drivers that should get out of her fucking way. Grams had been in her fair share of bar fights because she did so love her whiskey, but if she mixed it with beer… watch out.

To those who might be appalled he’d taken pugilistic lessons from a little old lady, one, his grandma wasn’t little, and two, she’d never lost a fight—something Gramps took pride in. Gramps liked to sit back and watch, even wager, and had won more than a few tidy sums that way.

“Guess we’re doing this the hard way.” The guy with the knife took one step forward, and Derek almost rolled his eyes.

“Dude, did no one ever teach you how to use that thing?” Derek reached out, chopped the wrist, and grabbed the falling blade. “Let’s get rid of this before you cut yourself.” He pulled back his arm and tossed the flimsy weapon into the flowing water.

Three sets of surprised eyes ogled him before guy number one barked, “Get him!”

Three against one. Looked like he’d be getting a full cardio workout tonight.

Sweet!

Derek ducked under a clumsy blow and nailed the guy in the diaphragm, bending him over double. He then spun and thumped the dumb one, clocking him in the face and sending him reeling.

Number three would have turned and run, only a giant white dog stood in their way, growling softly, hackles raised. Must be the wolf they were talking about on Reddit.

Derek ignored the pup as he grabbed the men he’d smacked and tossed them into the canal. Let the water wash away their sins. Or drown them. Either way, a win for society.

Guy number three apparently had a knife of his own, and he pulled it to threaten the big floof.

“Out of my way, mutt.” Thief number three feinted with his blade, and the big dog looked unimpressed.

Derek, however, took exception. “Animal abuse is not cool, dude. Pick on someone human.”

The guy half turned to snarl, “Fuck off, or I’ll stab you too.”

“Have you learned nothing in the last two minutes?” With that, Derek kicked the back of buddy’s knee and, before the guy could recover, chopped the hand with the knife. Plop. The weapon went for a swim and drowned.

“What the fuck, man?” whined the dude.

“Listen up because I am about to give you some really good life advice. One, stop robbing hard-working folk. I don’t bust my ass forty-plus hours a week for some lazy pukes to steal my shit. Get a fucking job. Two, three against one? Not cool, dude. If you wanna have a go at someone, then it’s one-on-one. And ditch the knife. If you’re gonna fight, then do so like a man. Three, if you’re going to play tough guy, then can you at least take some lessons? This was pathetic. I didn’t even break a sweat.”

Derek would have sworn the dog appeared amused as it cocked its head. The wannabe thief was more confused than anything.

“Are you a cop?”

Derek actually shuddered. “Fuck no. Just a regular Joe who isn’t fucking about to let three punks bully him. Now, I’ll give you a choice. Jump or get tossed.”

“What?”

“Jesus you’re stupid. I blame our public education system.” Derek reached over and grabbed the guy, hauling him off his feet before heaving him over the railing to join his friends, who clung to the concrete side of the canal blubbering about it being cold. He leaned over the rail to give them one final piece of advice. “Don’t let me see you again.”

With that, he turned to the dog. “Hey, puppers. You lost? Hungry?” He didn’t see a collar.

The dog, a good size, with a fluffy coat of white fur, glanced to the sky, which began to lighten, before yipping and running off. Probably had to get home before its owner realized it had gone missing.

Derek pressed play on his phone and resumed his jog, only to pause about a hundred yards later when a naked woman jumped out from behind a tree.

Startled, he just about fell over. He also had to tuck his tongue into his mouth because holy hot babe.

Platinum hair that was almost silvery white, honey-colored skin, peach-sized boobs, narrow waist, and, damn, the carpet matched the drapes.

He gaped, at a rare loss for words.

Her lips moved, but it took him a second to flip off his music and mutter, “Say that again?”

“I need help. I’ve been robbed.”

So not a drug addict in the midst of an episode. Had to watch for those. Nothing worse than being accosted by a naked woman wielding a knife who screamed she collected dicks. And, yes, it had happened. Grams gave him shit when she found out he fled. “Why didn’t you take her down?” “Because I wasn’t about to have a sexual assault charge on my permanent record.” These days instigators somehow got away with being victims.

“You need me to call the cops and an ambulance?” Derek asked the woman. He went to dial 911, and she exclaimed, “Oh fuck no. I don’t need to answer a zillion questions or have some paramedics groping me. I’m fine. Just naked.”

A reminder that had him stripping his long-sleeve Henley. “Here take this. Sorry, it’s a bit sweaty from my jog.”

She didn’t seem to care as she slid it over her head, covering those luscious curves.

Mmm-hmm.

And what the fuck was wrong with him? This woman had been attacked. He shouldn’t be looking at her lustily at all. If Grams were here, she’d have cuffed him for sure.

“Thanks,” the beautiful woman murmured.

“Can I call someone for you?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Need a ride? I can call a cab and get them to drop you off at your place.”

Her teeth worried her lower lip before she admitted, “I don’t remember where I live.”

“You have amnesia?” He couldn’t help sounding incredulous.

“Seems so.” She shrugged.

“You really should go to a hospital if you got smacked in the head.”

“No doctors,” she scowled. “I’m more hungry than hurt.”

Not the reply he expected. “Do you need me to buy you some food?”

“Depends, know any places doing steak this time of day?” A fleeting smile curved her perfect lips.

“Not around here.”

“Pity. A good steak, barely singed, always fixes everything.”

A woman after his own heart. “Well, guess I should get going, that is unless you’ve changed your mind about me calling a cab.”

“Can’t I just go home with you? I just need a place to crash for a day or two.”

And here came the grift. Derek pursed his lips. “Listen, lady, I don’t do scams, and before you deny it, I know how this works. I take you to my place. Next thing I know, some gorilla shows up claiming to be your boyfriend. He beats the crap out of me, and you rob me blind.”

Her lips parted. “Does that actually happen?”

“Not to me, but I read about it on Reddit.”

“So that’s a no on a place to crash for a few days?”

“Guess you’ll have to amnesia-scam someone else.”

She sighed. “Bloody hell. As you might have guessed, I don’t have amnesia, but I can’t go home. It’s not safe.”

“Then why not say that in the first place?” Derek crossed his arms and gave her a stern look.

“Because I’m not looking for a hero. Just somewhere to hang while I figure shit out.”

“There are shelters you know.”

“The second place they’ll look,” she muttered.

“What’s the first?”

“My apartment.”

Her answers had him frowning. “Who’s looking for you?”

“Some bad folks. I need to lie low for a while until I know it’s safe, and before you ask, I don’t have money for a motel. I can’t contact my family or friends, not if I want to keep them safe. What a fucking clusterfuck.”

Look at her using Grams’ favorite word. While Derek got the impression the naked lady wasn’t telling the whole truth, he didn’t get a danger vibe from her. On the contrary, he found himself intrigued, and it wasn’t as if he couldn’t take care of himself. If a goon showed up, he’d show him a lesson about what happened to scum who preyed on good Samaritans.

“You know what, you can come stay for a few days, but I warn you—I’ve got only one bed, and it’s mine.” Because his chivalry only went so far. “You’re welcome to the couch, though.”

“Couch is fine. I’ve slept on worse.”

“Follow me, then.”

As they began to walk, he asked, “What’s your name?”

“Athena.”

“As in the goddess?”

“Yeah. My mom loved the Greek gods. I’m Athena, and I have a brother called Ares, and a sister named Selene.”

“I’m Derek, after my gramps.” Idle chitchat, kind of incongruous given he walked with an almost naked hottie. He noticed her bare feet. “Do you need me to carry you?”

“Whatever for? My legs work.”

“Because you have no shoes and I don’t want you cutting your feet or something.”

She glanced at her toes. “Bah. I’ll be fine.”

Tough chick. Most broads would have been in hysterics after being robbed. Or… “Wait, were you actually robbed?”

“Not exactly. More like kidnapped and held prisoner.”

“By who?”

“Some very annoying people,” she grumbled. “When my chance came to escape, I didn’t have time to get dressed. Guess I’m lucky the first person I came across wasn’t a rapist.”

“Fuck those pervs. Grams says the only way to cure a rapist is to cut off his dick and choke him with it.”

A short laugh emerged from her. “I like your grandma already.”

“You’d be one of a few,” he admitted ruefully. “She scares off most folks.”

“Not you?” she questioned.

“Nah. She’s awesome. I hope to be half as tough as her one day.”

They reached his apartment building, an ugly thing built back in the seventies. Red brick with no character. He unlocked and held open the door for her to enter the vestibule. She angled her head and sniffed before saying, “Is there a building in this city that doesn’t have pee in the stairwells?”

She could smell it in the lobby? Might be time to ask the superintendent to bleach the stairs again. “Yeah, it’s getting to be bad in a lot of places. At least the rent isn’t horrendous.”

“Oh don’t apologize. Just pointing out a fact. My place had the same problem for a bit.”

“How did you solve it?”

“The pisser had an unfortunate tumble down the stairs and landed face first in it.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “By unfortunate, do you mean pushed?”

“Why, Derek, do I look like the type of girl who would sully her hands?” Athena drawled then winked.

He kept chuckling as they entered the elevator. “Kind of refreshing to meet someone who doesn’t put up with bullshit. Although I gotta wonder, how did you get involved in a bad scene?”

“By not being careful.” She leaned against the elevator wall as it rose. “And before you ask, I’d never met the folks who snagged me. All I know is apparently I met some kind of criteria.”

Given her looks, he could only come to one conclusion. Sex trafficked. Damn. Meaning no flirting by him, no leering, no nothing. Derek wasn’t about to make her trauma greater.

“Think they’ll come looking for you?”

“Probably.” She hesitated before adding, “Don’t worry. I’ll be gone before they figure out where I am.”

She kept saying “they.” As in, more than one person.

“Even if they do show up, I’m not afraid,” he quickly stated. “More just wondering if I need to be more on guard than usual.”

“You should be fine. It’s me they’re after.”

“Any way I can help you get them off your back?” he offered, because his grandma raised him to be a gentleman who helped people in need. And he hated scum. If vigilante justice wasn’t punished more severely than actual criminals, he’d have long ago started cleaning up the city.

“You’ve already done enough by giving me a place to crash for a few days. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

With that, they arrived at his place. She declared the couch perfect, and then, despite his earlier claim, Derek tried to insist she take the bed because he suddenly felt bad about putting her on that lumpy thing. She refused.

He might have fought longer, but he needed sleep before his shift tonight. He pulled out some leftovers in the fridge, a bucket of fried chicken and another of hot wings which they devoured in silence—unless her staring meant something. After their meal, he said goodnight and hoped he wouldn’t wake to an apartment stripped of all his valuables. He’d be pissed if she took his collector edition Xbox.

COLLAPSE
Find a StoreGooglePlayApple BooksAmazon/KindleBarnes and NobleKoboAudiobook
If you like My Girlfriend is a Werewolf, you might be interested in:
Book Cover: Seth

Seth

Book Cover: First Mate's Accidental Wife

First Mate's Accidental Wife

Book Cover: Dragon Mage

Dragon Mage

EveLanglais.com copyrighted © since 2009

EveLanglais.com is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, Rakuten, Googleplay and Performance Horizon Group, affiliate advertising programs designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees.

Privacy Policy

©2025 Eve Langlais ~ New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of romance, fantasy and more.