Woohoo, I’m kicking off 2019 with a double re-release! My first publications in January will be two novelettes I originally wrote for Evernight Publishing back in 2013; the rights reverted back to me in 2018, and I’m currently in the process of re-editing them and putting them together for release with Belaurient Press.
The first story, A Boon by Moonlight, is my “boy meets Sidhe/boy asks Sidhe for boon/Sidhe asks for night in boy’s bed” piece. This one has a special place in my heart because I dearly want to go out drinking with these two (Zach could be our designated driver, and Jerrek would throw back vodka like it was water and provide running snarky commentary on everyone else in the bar. It would be great). The re-release will also include the unpublished short story “Snow Day” featuring Zach and Jerrek housebound antics during a polar vortex, so there’s some added value there. It should be out on 1/15 so if you’ve never read this one before you can pick it up then.
And may I just say that I’m freaking in love with this new cover? It screams M/M fantasy romance to me (I still can’t believe I’m writing fantasy romance, but my God it’s fun). Finding the stock image of the model in fantasy garb was a real gift, and the other model works with him extremely well. I may do a couple more tweaks to the image before release day, but what you see here is primarily the finished product.
Oh, funny but true story about the cover — I sent it to a couple of writer friends for feedback. One of them writes SF/fantasy and said, “This is for a fantasy romance story? Because the woman on the right looks like a Vulcan.” I had to explain about Jerrek, after which she said, “Ohhh. In that case, it looks great.” *grin*
The other re-release is Grading the Curve, my “hot for teacher” novelette. Whereas I can get Boon out next week, Curve won’t be out for another two weeks because 1) hoo boy, I learned a lot about characterization and backstory in the last five years, which means 2) this 13K novelette is about to become a 30K novella as I gleefully apply both the Editorial Machete and the Storytelling Spackling Knife with a freaking vengeance (seriously, I re-read the original MSS and was deeply grateful that it sank without a trace. It’s not horrible, mind you, but it was clear I had no idea how to write a good, solid MF romance at that time).
The eagle-eyed among you may have noted the extra name on this cover and want to know who the heck Natasha Stark is. Well, she’s me — as of 2019 I’m using that nom de plume for all of my contemporary romances (and yes, there will be more of them — I’ve got at least four romcoms in mind), and this is my way of introducing her. It’s mainly for marketing purposes, since there doesn’t seem to be a great deal of overlap between contemporary romance readers and SF/fantasy/PN romance readers. I want to make it easy for people to find (and ideally buy) what they want to read, so SF, fantasy, or paranormal romance readers can stick with Nicola’s books, and contemporary romance readers can focus on Natasha’s books.
Oh, God. I’m going to have to set up a totally separate website/social media presence at some point for Natasha, aren’t I? I need a drink…
Meanwhile I’m also working on King of Blades (Two Thrones 4) and Natasha’s next romcom, tentatively titled Screen Kiss, so those should be out in March or so. So many books to write, so little time…
Happy Wednesday, lovelies! Today I’m here with my sister from another mister L.D. Blakeley and her hot new M/M fantasy romance Shadowy Pines, now available from Evernight Publishing and other online sellers. Take it away, L.D.!
A few years ago I went sightseeing in my own backyard and fell in love with a beautiful area just a few hours outside of Toronto called the Kawarthas. It’s the kind of place where I could imagine buying a cottage, or even picture moving to on a more permanent basis one day. You see, it has a vibe. I know – how very woo. But it does. It’s magical, almost otherworldly. And I knew in an instant I was going to create a fictional universe based on this bewitching region in Ontario, Canada.
When an over-educated, underemployed millennial is called home to help with the family business, he jumps at the chance to leave his crap job, crappier love life, and the city behind.
But moving to Shadowy Pines isn’t quite the idyllic life change Finn Parks imagined.
How the hell do you cope when you find out magic – actual magic – is real? Or that you also happen to come from a long line of powerful witches? And that handsome man with all the sizzle? Yeah, he might be trying to kill you.
“You’d be surprised how easily swayed I can be by a handsome face.”
Not for nothing, but Finn was fairly certain that was a come on. It had been a while, but he did remember what one sounded like. This one was … nicer, somehow. It still had the promising lilt of innuendo, but it didn’t sound like it had been rehearsed or lifted from bad porn dialogue.
“My aunt says you’re new in town, too. What’re you here for?”
“Business. Boring family business.”
“How vague,” Finn teased.
“Seriously. My father sent me back here to check out a vineyard. He’s interested in adding it to the wine brewing facility we already run, the Sharpe Wine Butler on the outskirts of town. You know it?”
“Can’t say I do, but it sounds more interesting than why I moved here.”
“Why are you in Shadowy Pines?”
“Jude and Poppy needed my help, I had nothing worth holding on to in the city, so—here I am.” Finn shrugged. “Now that’s boring,” he added with what he hoped was a charming smile.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Finn.” Owen pulled his chair closer and placed his hand on Finn’s knee. “Feel that?”
Of course he did. It felt as though a live wire had been placed against his bare skin.
“Yes.” Finn cursed the breathy, needy tone his voice had taken on. “What…” He wasn’t sure how to phrase his question so it wouldn’t offend. “What is that? I mean, I get the concept of electrical attraction, but this? This isn’t normal.”
When Owen didn’t reply right away, Finn prodded, “Right?”
“No, not really.” Owen’s fingers were slowly caressing Finn’s leg and inching their way up his thigh “Not for most people.” Owen leaned forward and took Finn’s face in both hands and brought their lips so close Finn swore he could taste him. Owen’s eyes visibly blazed in a way that barely seemed human. Finn froze, his breath catching in his throat.
When Owen finally pressed their lips together, Finn felt another jolt of electricity arc through his entire body and he gasped at the sensation. Owen’s fingers at his nape trailed delicious sparks across Finn’s skin as he licked at the seam of Finn’s mouth. Finn opened eagerly and nipped at Owen’s bottom lip. Never had a kiss made him so crazy with want. He needed to touch, wanted to crawl inside of Owen and feel him from the inside, out. But as Finn reached out a hand, Owen pulled away, his breathing every bit as labored as Finn’s.
“We’re different, Finn.” Owen licked at his lips and watched Finn’s eyes follow the tip of his tongue. “You’re different. You know that, right?”
Finn had no response. None that made any sense. Right now all he wanted was to tear at Owen’s clothes and taste every last inch of the man. But for some reason, Owen had put on the brakes and wanted to discuss—what, exactly? Finn was at a loss. And his dick could have cut glass.
“The woman in the grocery store. You mentioned that wasn’t the first time you’d seen her, right?”
“Right.” Finn’s voiced faltered slightly. Not sure where Owen was going with this, he gestured for him to continue.
“I think she saw you for what you are.”
“And what exactly is that?” Finn asked, not sure he wanted an answer.
“You’re a witch, Finn.”
Owen’s face was so serious, so earnest, Finn almost believed him for a split second.
He threw his head back and laughed uproariously. He laughed so hard, he could feel tears well up in his eyes. Well that’s an effective way to kill an erection.
But Owen’s expression hadn’t changed an iota. He simply sat and stared at Finn.
“Are you—oh, god, you’re serious aren’t you?”
Dammit! He knew there was a reason he’d established his dating embargo. He certainly could attract the crazies.
Where to Buy
On sale at Evernight Publishing → $3.99 $2.99 until Dec. 12
About the Author
L.D. Blakeley is a pragmatist with a romantic soul & a dirty mind. She loves horror movies, hot sex, and happily ever afters. She’s easily distracted by shiny things, and is a slightly neurotic, highly ambitious dreamer who enjoys dabbling in photography & pretending she can carry a tune.
In another life, L.D. was a newspaper reporter, an entertainment & music writer, travel writer, website content editor, and a marketing shill. Now she prefers to spend her time writing hot, steamy fiction (with a healthy dose of romance) about intriguing, sexy men. Although she dreams of living some place isolated with an endless supply of wine and an infinite number of titles on her eReader, she currently lives in downtown Toronto with her husband and their rock star cat.
Find L.D. online:
Yes, I’m doing it again this year, and I’m working on King of Blades (Two Thrones Book Four), which should make the Matthiaë fans out there happy. I’m looking to finish it by November 30, with a release date around the third week of December, whee!
The plot: Matthias’s yearly visit to Hellas and the games that are celebrating Danaë’s pregnancy are complicated by family strife, old friends, and a string of accidents that may not be all that accidental. With Danaë distracted by her double pregnancy, Matthias has to sort out this new threat to his ever-growing family.
Day 1 word count: 1667
Daily snippet: The traveling party moved slowly through the shadows of the majestic Arpinnes mountains, toiling upwards towards a narrow gap in the range. In winter the gap would be all but impassable due to blizzards and the sheer amount of snow and ice deposited there, but this early in autumn the route was still clear enough for King Matthias IV of Ypres and his coterie of guards, servants, and courtiers to cross over to the other side. Once they descended and reached the small strip of land that formed the eastern border of Ypres, there would only be a short sea journey remaining before they reached the glittering island kingdom of Hellas, ruled by Matthias’s wife and co-ruler Queen Danaë.
Which couldn’t come soon enough for his riding companion. “Why is it so bloody cold up here?” Prince Ezeudo Debare of Ghobos asked, burrowing deeper inside his fur-lined cloak. “This is horrendous.”
Matthias swallowed a sigh. “I’m not really sure. All I know is that it’s always colder in the mountains that it is down on the plain. Consider yourself lucky we’re crossing now. Last time I did this trip there was snow on the ground.”
“Snow.” A disgusted sound followed the word. “I’ll take the desert, thank you very much. At least the air there doesn’t turn my lungs to ice.”
He considered his companion, one of his oldest and most trusted friends. “Ezeudo, do you ever stop complaining?”
“No. It keeps my mouth warm.” The prince grinned unexpectedly, teeth white against his dark skin. “Besides, if I stopped complaining you’d wonder what I’d done with the real Ezeudo.”
“This is true. Remind me again why your wife tolerates you?”
“Because she is the moon to my sun, the love of my life, and I venerate her as I venerate all the deities. Also, she enjoys my large penis.”
Matthias snorted. “I’ll take your word on that, my friend.”
Another flashing grin from the Ghobian. “You’re going to tell her I said that, aren’t you?”
Welcome to another edition of Marvelous Monday Reads, darlings! Today I’m featuring Elyzabeth M. VaLey and her smouldering new fantasy romantic suspense novel Max’s Desire (Alpha Protectors 3). Take it away, Elyzabeth!
How can a man love a succubus without literally losing his heart?
Alpha Protector Max almost died during his last mission to Lust’s hellish lair, but the worst torture was his failure to save Eva, a young woman who begged for his help. When he meets her again in Spain, he discovers two things. One, she is his mate. Two, she is also a succubus.
Though Eva has not come into her full power, her love could still be fatal. For how long will he be able to defy her allure?
Pleasure is Eva’s business. Love isn’t.
Although unaware of her true nature, as a luxury escort, she is used to men falling at her feet. Yet, Max doesn’t. Though his attraction mirrors hers, the soldier does things differently and she can’t help falling for him.
And Eva is terrified by her recurring nightmares. When someone from her past shows up, and the dreams become reality, there is only one thing that can save Max’s heart.
She chuckled, self-deprecating, and shifted her gaze. “I had a nightmare.”
“Must have been quite vivid.”
Her bottom lip trembled and she sucked it in.
“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me about it.”
“I panicked. It was stupid, really. I don’t even remember much anymore, but when I woke up.” She shuddered. “I was screaming your name.”
“So you called me.”
Her eyes locked with his, shimmering with undisguised concern.
“I thought something had happened to you.”
Max smiled. He rubbed her cheek with the pad of his thumb.
“I’m perfectly fine, and I’m glad you called me. I was in the subway, which is why I didn’t answer.”
He spoke the truth. He’d been on his way to one of the portals hidden in the city, so he could go to the academy and do some research. When he’d received her call, he’d turned back. “How come you fell asleep? I thought you had to get ready for work.”
Eva pressed her lips tightly and squirmed on his lap. Max’s jaw dropped as her welcoming heat caressed his groin through his jeans. He gawked at Eva, taking in her flimsy attire. She hadn’t closed her robe, and the silky material gaped at the front, revealing soft, pink flesh, from the curve of her breasts to the dip of her stomach and lower. Max swallowed. Desire pumped through his veins at the speed of lightning, his cock growing at an equally alarming rate.
“I canceled my date tonight,” she said.
“How—” Max coughed. “Sorry. How come?”
She shrugged and moved again. Her lips parted soundlessly. No doubt she’d noticed the wedge of his erection. Her eyes narrowed and she grinned.
“Well, I wasn’t in the mood to go out, and I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“I called in sick. I couldn’t bear the idea of being touched by another man.” She gave him one of her practiced coy looks. “I also masturbated to you.”
Max dropped his arms to his sides. Maybe if he didn’t touch her, he’d escape temptation. She leaned forward, rubbing against him.
“You want me,” she stated. “And I want you,” she purred.
“Eva, it’s not a good idea.”
“Why?” She pouted.
Why indeed? How did he explain his fear? How did he tell his mate that yes, he wanted to make love to her but was afraid she’d rip him apart?
Eva placed her hands on his shoulders.
“We won’t fuck if you don’t want to, but let me touch you, please you in other ways.”
She ran her hands across his chest, rubbing the hilt of her palm against his straining nipples. Max threw his head back, swallowing his groan. His cock throbbed relentlessly, desperate to be inside of her.
She brushed her mouth over his, a light feather touch which made his heart pound, quieting the voice in his head. Eva rolled her hips, rubbing against him. Taking hold of his hands, she placed them on her hips. His fingers flexed, then slid beneath her robe to her ass, massaging the firm globes. Her gasp fueled his passion. He dipped lower, finding her slick folds.
His thoughts fled, his mind becoming blessedly blank and focused on only one thing: his mate. He pushed a digit into her, then another.
“So wet, kitten.”
“Yes, for you.”
Max pulled out and licked her cream. Musky and sweet, it was better than anything he’d ever had.
“Fuck me,” she begged.
Grasping the back of her head, he angled her mouth and kissed her hard. Eva snaked her hands beneath his t-shirt. They glided across his abdomen, heading north.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she declared.
She tugged on his shirt and he swept it off.
“Oh my God, Max.”
He froze. Fuck. How could he have forgotten?
Where to Buy
About the Author
Elyzabeth M. VaLey is a writer of sizzling, sexy romance who firmly believes in happy ever after. From paranormal to contemporary, fantasy, or historical, she enjoys exploring her characters’ darker side and writing stories about tortured heroes, strong heroines, and all that comes between them and their love.
When she’s not writing, she can be found walking in the Spanish countryside with her black Lab, exploring castles, or enjoying some tapas with her friends.
Welcome to another edition of Marvelous Monday Reads, angels! Today I’m featuring L.M. Spangler and her marvelous new Romance On the Go™ Return to Me. Take it away, L.M.!
Her secret tore them apart.
Naida Bouche foolishly thought she could live as if she was only human. Her true nature hung over her like a thunderhead, driving a wedge between her and her husband.
Cooper Martin had no idea why his ex-wife divorced him. He’d treated her like a goddess. And they had no problems in the intimacy department.
Fate brings them together again. Old emotions flare to life. Can Naida see beyond her self-perceived faults and allow the flames to reignite the love she and Coop feel for one another?
Water cascaded off her nude body. Small rivulets ran over her breasts and down her slightly rounded stomach, disappearing into the surface of the lake.
She was one with the water.
She could, literally, become one with it.
Moonlight reflected off the mirror-smooth surface, adding a soft glow to the night.
Crickets serenaded her with their chirping song. The cicadas added their buzzing to the symphony. There were a lot of cicadas, hence the name of the lake. A wolf howled in the distance. Nature cocooned her.
She grinned and dove under. Liquid embraced her, still heated by the sun’s rays from earlier in the day. Her body became insubstantial, fragmenting into molecules of H2O. Disorientation left her bewildered, but the feeling came and went. Weightless warmth enveloped her, and the ebb and flow of the tide lulled her into blissful relaxation.
The moon slid across the sky. Hours had passed. Her body became corporeal with a single thought. After regaining her human form, she cut through the water with powerful strokes and rose to the surface in a rush of bubbles.
The night air chilled her damp skin, raising goose pimples along her flesh. She pushed the long fall of hair from her face and glanced into the deep, lush woods that ringed the lake. Soon the leaves would change to shades of gold, orange, red, and brown. In would come the autumnal chill. Her time in the waters would decrease, and then winter would set in and freeze her out.
When that happened, she’d resort to the swimming pool located on the basement level of her large home. Even with the greenery she had sprinkled about, it never fully replaced the exhilaration of the lake, the feel of fresh air against her skin, and the scent of the wilderness.
She repeated the cycle, year after year. The monotony had long since worn short on her nerves.
She had someone in her life, someone to break the monotony.
More accurately, she would only have him until the end of the day.
Tonight would be the last night they would be together. She’d tell him that they were over and done with. The sad part of the whole shitty deal was she couldn’t really give him a reason why.
How could he understand? Hell, she’d have trouble believing the truth, if it wasn’t her life.
The root of their problems were otherworldly, as her father was human and her mother was a water nymph.
The nymph side of her heritage presented two problems. First, she needed daily contact with water. The more the better. Like her pool in the basement. Second, she also needed sex … a lot. Preferably once or twice a day. After all, the term “nymphomaniac” had been born of a nymph’s sex drive.
They had a lot of sex, but there were times when their hectic lives interfered with his libido. He was human and his sex drive was human.
She couldn’t guess how he’d react if she said, “I’m a nympho which means we have to have sex all the time. Day and night. Over and over and over.”
He wouldn’t understand it and she’d allowed it to build a wall between them.
No, he had never known the truth of her desires.
She had pushed him away, afraid of exposing her real self.
And that fear, that uncertainty, would leave her alone … and needy.
Where to Buy
About the Author
LM Spangler lives in South Central Pennsylvania with her husband, daughter, three dogs, a cat, a rabbit, and some fish. Her son serves his country in the US Navy.
She is a fan of college football and any kind of baseball and likes to watch the Discovery, Velocity, HGTV, DIY, Science, and any channel showing a college football game. She also watches old game shows like $25,000 Pyramid and Match Game.
Welcome to another edition of Marvelous Monday Reads, darlings! Today I’m featuring Faye Avalon and her new fantasy romance Caelan’s Captive. Take it away, Faye!
Escaping the king’s harem, Lahna finds herself at the mercy of a warrior prince who holds her captive and makes no secret of his desire to have her. Lahna hasn’t fled from one tyrant only to become the captive of another, and she certainly has no intention of warming the bed of the fearsome prince…even if he does make her body burn and her senses reel.
Caelan suspects his voluptuous captive may have been sent to spy on him and discover his plans to liberate his land from the tyrannical rule of the king. But her arrival provides him with the perfect opportunity to set those plans in motion. First, that means making her his, and in doing so he might just satisfy the craving for her that heats his blood and fires his loins.
But can Caelan really trust her? And can Lahna trust him to keep her safe when it matters most?
He had markings on his skin, the type that were forbidden by the king. What looked like intricate black ribbons circled his muscled upper left arm. He also had scars along his right arm, the kind made by weapons of battle.
He caught her staring at him and she looked away, sipping at the water again.
“You find something of interest?”
She swallowed before glancing back at him. “You are not what I expected.”
His expression darkened and a tension moved into his big body. “Indeed. And what did you expect?”
At the coldness in his eyes, Lahna reached for her inner strength and all the bravado she could muster. “You wear the marks of battle and your hair is long.”
His gaze held hers, searching for some hidden answer for which she didn’t know the question. Then he leaned closer. “Before anything else, I am a warrior. You would do well to remember that.”
She pushed her head back into the pillow as he leaned farther down. When her stomach pitched again, she wondered at the wisdom of eating too much bread. Except this feeling didn’t feel like over-indulgence.
Only when he straightened did she breathe once more.
“What is the name by which you are known?”
What kind of game was he playing? Of course he knew her name. “Lahna,” she sneered, lifting her chin.
He said nothing, but narrowed his blue gaze directly at her.
She wouldn’t be intimidated. “How long am I to remain here?”
“As long as you wish.”
“As I wish?”
Pointedly, he looked around him. “Do you see locks on the doors? Bars on the windows?”
No, she didn’t, come to think of it. At least, none that were visible. But was it a ploy? Was he trying to lull her into feeling secure and then he would pounce? She didn’t trust him. Couldn’t afford to trust him.
“There are more ways to imprison a woman than with locks and bars.”
“Why would I want to imprison you?”
Was he genuinely trying to provoke her? “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? I’m little more than your prisoner, your captive. I appreciate you letting me regain my strength before I face my fate, but I would prefer to have an indication of what to expect when I am back to full health. What is to be done with me?”
“Now why would you expect that I intend to do anything with you?”
Infuriating man. He was toying with her like an animal trapped in a snare.
“I am in your quarters, am I not? Why am I here if not to be punished in some way?”
“May I remind you that you sailed into my waters uninvited? Had I not plucked you out of the reef, you would now be food for the fish.”
Sailed into his waters? Uninvited?
Everything inside her grew warm. Had she truly made it out beyond the horizon to where she had heard people lived freely? Unencumbered by the king’s tyrannical rule?
Her heart began pounding with joyful relief at the thought she might be free. But if that were so, where was she? This man spoke the same language, ate the same foods.
Maybe it was a trick and the king had meant to test her, find out why she had tried to escape. Had he tasked her guard to ingratiate himself with her, to learn of her plans, her reasoning? To pretend that he didn’t know who she was?
Yet, if this man really didn’t know her identity, and had no idea from where she’d come, maybe she had sailed far from the king’s clutches, to another land.
Regardless, she had to play things very carefully. It didn’t matter where she was. The king’s reach was vast. This man could be in the king’s employ whoever he was, and wherever he lived. The islands that were now under Zomotian rule would never dare go against their new ruler, the king.
She had to think. Had to remain vigilant.
The man surveyed her closely, suspicion heavy in his hypnotic gaze. “When your health is recovered, I will arrange for you to be sent back home.”
Grasping for courage she didn’t feel, she angled her chin into the air. “S…sent back?” Everything inside her went to ice.
Where to Buy
About the Author
Faye Avalon enjoys writing sexy stories about strong men and the savvy women who rock their world. She has taken a roundabout journey toward her writing career, working as cabin crew, detouring into property development, public relations and education, before finally finding her passion: writing spicy romantic fiction. Faye lives with her super-ace husband and one beloved, ridiculously spoiled dog.
TGIF! Let’s kick off the weekend with Ekaterine Xia’s hot new fantasy romance Goddess in Waiting, now available from Amazon and other purveyors of romance ebooks. Take it away, Ekaterine!
If she fails to persuade them that Earth is on track to Ascension, the planet will be reset back to prehistoric days.
And that’s the good ending.
The Devourer of Worlds looms in wait to claim Earth as his rightful salvage. Not content with the planet as a main course, he’s also set his eyes on having godlings as appetizers.
Since drama comes in threes, not only does Amarantha have the Council and the D to contend with, but she must also negotiate the status of her marriage with Death himself.
Can a goddess nearly Faded into mortal flesh save the world, herself, and her marriage along with it?
“There is a challenger. If we do not meet his challenge, then he lays claim to all of Earth as salvage. All of Earth, all of its inhabitants — devoured,” Ra said.
“By what claim?”
It was Alex who answered. “Failure to ascend before achievement of interstellar travel.”
I threw up my hands in disgust. “Of all the excuses. We are so far from interstellar travel it isn’t even funny.”
I gaped at Ra, who only shrugged, her answering grimace wry.
“Remember those alien ships that crashed a few decades ago? Well, they think they’re on the verge to cracking the riddle.”
They. The dancing monkeys that called themselves world leaders.
Exhaling a slow breath out, I pinched the point between my brows. “How close is on the verge?”
“It could be anything from decades to mere days. Breakthroughs are hard to predict.”
I slumped back into my seat, cuddled the amphora to my chest, and took a good long slurp. There really wasn’t enough booze there to make the situation even vaguely tenable, but no sense in heading into a quandary sober when I could do it somewhat sloshed. The wine was good. Very good. No wonder Alex drank the stuff like water.
A tipsy gurgle escaped. For all I knew, it had been water. That was one of Alex’s tricks, after all.
We drank silently and steadily for a while. To their credit, Alex and Ra didn’t push. Probably because they knew I was one word away from saying fuck it. They knew what happened the last time, what I’d lost.
We did end up breaking out the Ninety-nine and special potion Five after the sixth bathroom run. Having a super charged metabolism wasn’t all it was fired up to be when it meant that you spent more time running to the toilet than you did drunk.
I gave in when the sun started heading west. They weren’t going away and neither was the situation.
“All right. So tell me again: why me? I’m just a little, minor goddess out of mostly obscured Chinese legend with a specialty for memories. Eighteen Hells, most people don’t even know I’m a goddess or that I exist.”
I lifted my cup and pointed at Alexandros, continuing to grouse, “I can see why Mr. Sunnyface over there doesn’t want the job, but why not any of the numerous more well-known gods out there?”
At this point, Alex’s drinking problems aside, none of us wanted to give his worshipers the satisfaction of knowing that they were right about his existence. Including him. Not to mention that he already had more than enough on his plate to deal with all the problems his followers dreamed up on a daily basis. If we put more on his shoulders, he could very well decide that he was better off perpetually floating in a vat of wine rather than not. As it was, he was already close to being pickled. Even Dionysus couldn’t keep up, which was saying something.
Ra flicked me a look. “Most of ’em have gone the incarnation route. Or they’ve gone on walkaround.” Which you would know if you were paying any attention at all, her expression said.
I shrugged. That was something I had no guilt over. Why, when gods Fell, incarnated, Faded, and Slept on a whim? Who you had with you at any given time was who you had.
“But not all. I mean, if you’re scraping the barrel, you could consider Bast, Tiamat, or who’s that one with the gorgeous accent and the feathers?”
Alexandros raised his hand and started ticking down fingers. “Bast is currently Fallen as a cat who is pet to the principessa of some rich country. She’s hardly going to give up her foie gras and cream for this posting, even if we did manage to get through to her in her current form. Your hot stud with the gorgeous accent and feathers recently went on tour of another world to find more worshippers. And do we really need to bring up Tiamat? If we let Tiamat be the representative of Earth, we might as well let the challenger have it. It’ll be less embarrassing.”
I tsked at him. “Tiamat would be heartbroken to hear you say that about her.” True though. She was just a bit too closely allied with chaos for diplomacy. Not that we didn’t like Chaos and Entropy, but really, it would be like bringing your favorite rabid squirrel to a party and expecting things to not go sideways.
He arched a brow. “Tiamat can…”
Ra sighed. “Children…
“The buddhas have gone. Alex can’t and won’t do it. Fates and Stars, you don’t want Alex doing it because you don’t want to give his followers the chance to be smug. Anandi and I can’t do it because we have descendants and they don’t count us as impartial parties. Almost everyone else has incarnated or Fell. Tell me, Amarantha, who would you leave the future in the hands of right now?”
“Impartial? That’s a requirement now? And who on this blue earth is impartial?”
Alex gave me an oddly sweet smile, untainted by cynicism or bitterness. “It’s your choice, Amarantha. But I know you. You’ve already made it, haven’t you?”
I took a swig of special potion Five. It hit me like a ton of bricks, a warm sensation floating up from my abdomen, my memories blurring slightly, my emotions clouding just enough for me to say the fateful words.
“Fine. I’ll do it. What does it entail; where’s my entourage; how do I kill the big bad; and what’s the treasure?”
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About the Author
Traverser of realms, dreamer, dabbler in all things fantastical – Katje builds worlds where HEAs are possible for everyone.
Be it reuniting star-crossed lovers in magical ancient China, dragon shifters searching for a new homeworld in space jellyfish, short fluffy brown girls, sweet shy nerd boys, lovers who’ve missed the happy boat six lifetimes in a row, imaginary friends, and the odd goddess or two. Plus Death. Never forget Thanatos.
Katje also writes shorter, spicier stories as E. Xia.
Hello, lovelies! I know I said I wasn’t going to post any more teasers from Red Robin and the Huntsman, but I don’t have anything else that’s ready to go, so here’s another scene. Oh, and I’ve just added the reference pic I use whenever I write these two. You should see who I have in mind as Duncan’s brothers!
Many thanks to Angelica Dawson for hosting us, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
Robin grinned up at him. “I always wanted to see you naked. I used to daydream about this, in particular.” She touched the belted V of muscle that bracketed his hips. “It disappeared into your breeches like an arrowhead. I always wanted to see how far down it went.”
His dark eyes glittered in the candlelight. “All the way down, my lady.”
“Really? How delightful.” Letting her fingers trail down his chest and abdomen, she reached the fastening of his breeches. Undoing them was the work of a few moments, and she eased the placket open. As he claimed, the muscle band continued to the top of his groin, where a deliciously thick length pressed in a diagonal against the fabric of his breeches. All she had to do was pull them open further—
He took her hand, pausing it. “If you touch me now, I’ll spend,” he said matter-of-factly. “And I’ve been dreaming of this for far too long to go that quickly. Lie back down, there’s a good lass.”
Torn between a deliciously wicked desire to see him reach his peak and a burning need to have him inside her, Robin did as he asked. He straddled her body, leaning down to capture her mouth in another of those deliciously sensual kisses. His chest hair teased her nipples as they kissed, and she wanted to grind against him until the throbbing flesh between her legs finally gained some relief. But with his knees planted on either side of her thighs she was effectively trapped, waiting on his pleasure.
Not knowing what to do with her hands, she let them rest on his back, tracing the valley of his spine between the long bands of muscle there. Unexpectedly he lifted his head and sucked in a quick, happy breath at her touch.
How long has it been since he’s been touched like this? It gave her an idea. “Move to the side.”
“It’s all right. Move for a minute.”
He did, gingerly balancing on the edge of the narrow bed. “Did I hurt you? I tried to keep my weight off—”
“No, you’re fine.” She rolled into a sitting position, patting the coverlet where she had just been. “Stretch out on your stomach.”
He blinked, then glanced down at the unmistakable bulge in his breeches. “That’s … not the best idea right now, love.”
He did, reluctantly. Moving to kneel behind him, she studied his broad back. Thick with muscle at the shoulders, it tapered down to a trim waist, evidence that he hadn’t been spending the last twelve years commanding a desk. The waistband of his loosened breeches gaped, and she could just make out a pair of dimples bracketing his spine. Idly, she wondered what he would do if she licked them.
First thing’s first. Sliding her hands up his back, she started rubbing his shoulders, pressing her thumbs into tight muscles as she massaged. He made a noise she’d never heard before and sagged under her hands. “Oh, gods. That’s it—I’m marrying you if I have to bribe Patriarch Reniel himself.”
“I don’t think you have to go quite that high.” She kissed the valley of his spine and felt him shudder. “Pater Colbert would be more than happy to marry us.”
He reached back, stilling her hand. “I mean it, Robin. I want to marry you. If you’ll have me, that is.”
She trailed her mouth across the skin of his back to his neck, gently sucking there and raising another full body shiver from him. “We’ll talk about that tomorrow. Tonight, I want you to make love to me, captain. Can you do that?”
She felt more than saw him smile. “Whatever my lady wants.”
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Welcome to another edition of Marvelous Monday Reads, cupcakes! Today I’m featuring E.D. Parr and her new M/M fantasy romance The Dreamboat. Take it away, E.D.!
Gorgeous, powerful warlock, Indigo Vaughn, sells his magic spells to people looking to make a dream come true. One night, as he gazes down on the city below from his sky barge The Dreamboat, he wonders why, in centuries, his own wish for a man to love hasn’t materialized.
Beautiful, sexy, Darian O’Harr has suffered his fair share of misery. He’s a musician and learned long ago to sing for his supper. New to the city, he comes to Indigo seeking a spell that will bring him the love of a handsome man.
As soon as he sets eyes on Indigo, his heart races and his body betrays his pent up needs.
Here is the man of his dreams. What can Darian do as the warlock gathers his magic to cast a spell that will bring him another man?
Indigo didn’t sleep well for three nights after meeting Darian. On the fourth night he didn’t sleep at all. His sexual needs beat at him, until he couldn’t think straight. His desire burned until all he could think about was fucking. He pushed his breakfast around on his plate the next morning. That day he stalked the corridors of The Dreamboat eschewing meetings and focused only on the security arrangements for the queen’s celebrations. At sixteen hundred hours he called Milan to his side.
“Will you make an appointment at Temptations for me? Twenty-three hundred hours will be good.”
Milan’s gentle smile comforted him. “One, Two, or Three, sir?”
Indigo shook his head slowly. His desire threatened to overwhelm him. Nearly crazed with sexual need, Indigo needed to deal with it or be incomplete for weeks to come. “All of them. Thank you.”
Moments later, Milan returned. “You’re expected at Temptations, twenty-three hundred hours as you requested. Permit me to take you there and wait to bring you home?”
“Yes, of course.”
Temptations buzzed with chatter and thumped with music in the main downstairs room. People danced, some grinding their bodies against each other’s.
A host met Indigo. “It’s been a while, sir. I trust you are well. Your requested companions are ready.”
Indigo nodded. He silently followed the host to the upstairs room where beautiful men he knew only by a number would slake his desires that night.
The host left him.
Indigo wore only a belted kilt and ankle length hooded cloak over his naked body. He stepped out of his soft suede ankle boots, and waited, his cock already half-erect with anticipation.
Gorgeous men entered the room, their naked bodies muscled, their eyes dark with desire, they came to Indigo silently.
Indigo savored their looks, big cocks already filling out into erections. His admiring gaze raked over the men, their lush dark hair, soft and well-cut, blue eyes, gray eyes, smooth skin free of body hair, and his cock jerked as his stomach tightened. He loved men. These men were the best of Temptations male brothel, and they’d serviced him once before a year ago. He sighed recalling the satisfaction. The night sparkled with promise. He watched with growing sexual hunger.
One carried a tray and placed it on the table away from the huge low bed. On the tray—a carafe of water so cold it misted the glass, sachets of lube, condoms, sex toys, tissues, and a wine glass.
One unclipped Indigo’s cloak and after grazing his lips on Indigo’s, he brought the cloak to a freestanding rail and hung it.
A low murmur of appreciation fell from Indigo’s mouth as he savored the fleeting kiss from One’s perfect lips.
Two knelt and traced his fingertips up and down Indigo’s legs, reaching his balls and circling feather light touches there that made Indigo’s cock fill out in a delicious slow sensation.
Indigo closed his eyes with lust as his stomach tightened and jerked his cock when Two stroked the backs of his thighs.
Three took the belt from Indigo’s kilt as One slid his hands around Indigo’s face and held him fast kissing him hungrily. The kiss seared desire through Indigo and he slid his palms along the satiny skin of One’s muscled chest with a groan.
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About the Author
E.D Parr is a writer who is in love with happy endings, currently based in southern UK.
Hello, lovelies! This week I’m teasing you with one last snippet from my holiday novella Red Robin and the Huntsman before its release next week!
Many thanks to Angelica Dawson for hosting us, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
Duncan woke early after a fitful night’s sleep interspersed with dreams about Robin. In one she was being carried off by brigands, and in another pirates. Despite his best attempts at carving a path through the men he could never reach her in time and was forced to listen to her screaming for help as she was borne off by her captors.
Out of sorts, he dressed and headed down to the chilly dining hall. From the smell in the air, there would be no meat or eggs available for breakfast this morning. His suspicions were confirmed when Adele hauled a cauldron full of oatmeal into the hall and started dishing it out. “There’s no raisins, I’m afraid, and we don’t have cream,” she said apologetically as she placed a steaming bowl in front of him. “But there’s some fresh milk and I can fetch a bit of sugar, if you like.”
Unappetizing as it was, the oatmeal was still better than some of the things he’d eaten on patrol. “This is fine, thank you.” Duncan reached for the salt cellar and sprinkled some on the oats. The contrast between the beige glop and the elegant pewter bowl acted as a sobering barometer of the Busse family’s finances.
To his surprise, the next person in the hall was a young boy, his reddish-brown hair cut neatly in a bowl crop and his large brown eyes bright and intelligent. “Hello,” he said as he climbed onto a chair. “You must be one of the soldiers come to help Ser Arthur.”
“I am,” Duncan said, twigging to the boy’s identity, “my lord. Captain Duncan Bardahlson, at your service.”
“I’m Charles Busse, Count of Wellen. But you can call me Charlie.” The young count beamed at Adele as she served him. Duncan noted that she took a sugar bowl from the sideboard, carefully scraping out grains of brown sugar to sprinkle on the boy’s breakfast. “It must be very exciting to be a soldier. Have you fought many thieves before?”
“Once or twice, aye. Usually horse thieves, although there was one time when I had to track down a jewel thief.”
The boy’s eyes widened. “Really? Did you catch him?”
“Her. And yes, I did.” The rest of that tale wasn’t appropriate for young ears, however, and the lady in question was now happily married to the jewel merchant she’d been robbing so everything had worked out in the end. “We’ll be heading out this week with Ser Arthur’s men to guard them while they collect the taxes.”
Charlie’s feathery brows lowered at that. “Do you think the thieves will attack again?”
“If they do, they’re very foolish. But we’ll be ready for them if they do.”
Ewan and Hamish picked that moment to troop in. Duncan made the introductions while Adele scooped out more bowls of oatmeal. Ewan gave his breakfast a disgusted look, but dug in while Charlie continued to ask questions about the upcoming tax collection. Duncan couldn’t help but be impressed with the child’s canny inquiries. Aye, you’re definitely your mother’s son.
Ser Arthur was the last to make an appearance, grimacing at the food. “Adele, why are we serving our guests oatmeal?” he asked. “I specifically requested ham steaks and eggs. You can’t expect soldiers to ride on this slop.”
Adele pressed her lips together. “We don’t have any ham steaks or eggs, Ser Arthur,” she said stolidly. “My lady said this was to be served for breakfast. ”
“Ach. Women.” Devines shook his head as he took his seat. “I’m sorry about that. I had asked for a proper breakfast, but this home clearly needs a stronger hand on the reins, eh?”
Charlie’s face reddened at that, and his fist tightened on the spoon. Quickly, Duncan said, “Oatmeal is quite filling and sticks to your ribs, Ser Arthur. The fact that we’re eating a hot breakfast at all is a pleasure, truly.”
“You’re too kind, captain. We’ll have to do better for you after you return.” After ordering Adele to bring him milk and sugar, the tax collector started on his own breakfast, orating between bites about his service to the king and how he would have gone into the army, “except I have these bone spurs, you see. Would’ve made me quite useless on the front lines.”
Duncan decided not to mention that a decent Terra mage could have healed something that minor. “Does that mean you won’t be coming out with us, Ser Arthur?”
Devines waved a sticky spoon at him. “Oh, no. Best for me to stay here and coordinate, don’t you think? I have full faith in you and your men’s abilities to keep the king’s taxes safe, captain.”
In other words, he didn’t want to travel in the cold weather. Duncan glanced at his brothers. Neither of them did anything as blatant as roll their eyes, but he could tell they both shared his rapidly dropping opinion of the tax collector.
Despite Charlie’s presence at the table, it was clear that Roberta wouldn’t be making an appearance at breakfast. Best to take that as a message and get on with it. “While we’re on the topic, gentlemen, may I suggest we head to Ser Arthur’s office after breakfast and plan out how we’re going to tackle the collection?” Duncan said.
The other men grunted in agreement, although Charlie seemed a bit forlorn. “Can I come with you when you gather the taxes, captain?”
Devines laughed loudly before Duncan had time to come up with a politic refusal. “Don’t be ridiculous, my lord,” the tax collector said, smirking. “You’re far too young for such a dangerous trip.”
The boy glared at the tax collector. “I’m not ridiculous, and I wasn’t talking to you, Ser Arthur.”
Devines’s smirk evaporated. “You impudent young pup. If you were my son, I’d take you over my knee for such impertinence,” he declared.
“But I’m not your son, am I?” Charlie shot back. “In fact, I’m count here, which means that I outrank you.”
Duncan cleared his throat before Devines could make matters worse. “My lord, while I appreciate your concern for your people and your lands, I’m afraid we can’t take civilians on this trip, what with the cold weather and the potential risk from brigands,” he said, careful to keep his tone respectful.
“But you’re taking Ser Arthur’s men,” Charlie pointed out.
Oh, he was most definitely Robin’s son. “They’re treasury employees, and as such are part of the royal government. Besides, it’s your duty as count to remain here and protect your estate and your mother.”
His words had their intended effect, and the boy nodded reluctantly. “All right. But I’d like to go into Halle this afternoon to see the holiday decorations. If you’re not leaving until tomorrow, you could take me there, couldn’t you?”
As if Robin would let him take her son anywhere. “We’ll have to ask your mother—”
“I’ll do it.” Limber as an eel, the young count slid off his chair and dashed out of the dining hall.
Devines huffed, tossing his napkin on the table. “You shouldn’t indulge the little rascal like that, captain,” he growled. “If I’d spoken to my father like that, he would’ve given me a taste of the strap.”
Duncan strongly doubted that Devines had ever felt so much as a flick on the ear, much less a strap across the backside, but he didn’t want to get into a discussion on child-rearing with the overbearing man. “I’m sure that her ladyship won’t want his lordship escorted off the estate grounds,” he said instead, scraping up the last of his oatmeal.
As it turned out, he was wrong. After the meeting had been wrapped up by a still huffy Devines, he’d gone to the stable to brush Fremder when he heard light footsteps behind him. They were followed by a tart, “So you’ve offered to take Charlie to Halle this afternoon?”
Duncan gathered himself, then turned to face his hostess. Robin was still wearing widow’s grey, but the shade held a hint of blue today. And even irritated, she was still beautiful enough to make his heart beat faster. “He wanted to go with us on the collection trip,” he said as evenly as possible. “I said that his duties were here, protecting you. He then asked if I could take him to Halle. I said it would be up to you. I assumed you wouldn’t want him going anywhere with me.”
Her eyes narrowed at his perfectly reasonable explanation. “Normally, I wouldn’t. But it would be good for him to attend the candle lighting ceremony this afternoon and tour the crafts fair. His people need to get to know him.”
She couldn’t seriously be suggesting… “Not being a nobleman, I’m not familiar with what airs and graces need to be put on for one’s people,” Duncan muttered, returning to his task.
She snorted, the sound still familiar even after so many years. “Oh, please. You needn’t sound as if I’m making Charlie out to be heir to the throne.”
There would be no finishing Fremder’s coat while she was there. Duncan turned back to her, currycomb in hand. “I’m not. I’m simply saying that I’m not a nobleman and I don’t know what goes into the job, all right?”
“I’m not asking you to tutor him in etiquette. But Charlie should go to Halle for the ceremony.”
“So take him.”
He realized his mistake when he saw her jaw muscles tense. “We had to sell the carriage and horses. All I have left is that grey mare.” She nodded at a pudding-like horse placidly chewing hay. “And it wouldn’t do for me to ride into town on her with Charlie on my lap like a baby.”
Her statement confirmed Duncan’s suspicions that the Busse family had fallen on hard times. He wanted to ask what had happened, but the set of Robin’s shoulders suggested that now was not the time. “You might have noticed that I don’t have a carriage, either, my lady.”
She shook her head. “You’re a soldier. If Charlie rides with you, that would be all right. You’d be his bodyguard for the day.”
He had set this trap for himself well and proper. “I need to finalize plans with Ser Arthur before we leave tomorrow,” he tried.
Now she gave him a disgusted look. “Charlie said you just spoke with Ser Arthur. And it’s hardly as if you’re planning an invasion. You ride with his men and yours, you collect the tax, and you fight off anyone foolish enough to attack your convoy. Anyone with a basic understanding of military strategy would know that.”
“True. But a good strategist would want to make sure that everything comes off smoothly.”
Another snort. “Fine. I’ll tell Charlie you were too busy working on tactics to take him to Halle.” She turned to leave.
The boy’s hopeful face appeared in his mind. Duncan sighed. “Is it really that important for him to go?”
Robin paused. “Yes. He needs to get out, to see his people. And it’s good for them to see him. Besides…” She trailed off, her shoulders dropping a bit. “He doesn’t ask for much. I hate telling him no for something this … small.”
Duncan fought off a sudden urge to take her into his arms, if only to cuddle her and give her some sort of reassurance that everything would work out in the end. Aye, and you know damn well she’d plant a knee in your bollocks if you tried it. Hands to yourself, man.
Although… If he was honest, it wasn’t actually a bad idea to go to Halle for the afternoon and get a feel for the town. If nothing else, it was better than spending the time listening to Devines’s interminable stories or staring at the gloomy ceiling in his room. And if he took Ewan and Hamish with him, the three of them could share babysitting—no, count-sitting—duties. “Fine,” he said, making sure that his tone was properly put-upon. “I’ll take him into Halle.”
An unexpected sheen appeared in Robin’s eyes, making them glisten. “Thank you.”
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