Summary:
For vampire Charles Redfort, Christmas is a bitter reminder of the day he was killed by a werewolf. After fleeing the vampire army he was created to serve in, he has lived in exile in England. Once a year he allows himself to tell the truth about his life over dinner. Then he eats the man heâs hired for the night.
Blake Wells is an engineering student by day and escort by night. He works Christmas because he doesnât want to see his father, and his mother doesnât want to see him. When he meets Charles, he thinks heâs gotten a bonus present that he canât wait to unwrap. But as the truth is revealed, Blake will have to think fast to live until morning and convince Charles to give up his lonely life.
For readers who like their Christmas stories with a bit of bite.
Vampires at Christmas? What is this madness? Well, The Vampire's Dinner is a beautiful story of finding something you didn't even realize you were missing. Paranormal, Christmas, and heart makes this a wonderful addition to my holiday shelf.
RATING:
The Alpha's Mate by Beth Laycock
Summary:Penhul Pack #1
Alpha of the Penhul pack with a human mate? Never going to happen.
Addison knows grief can do strange things to people, but when heâs wandering Pendle Hill and witnesses a dog leap out of thin air, he thinks he must be going crazy. When the border collie morphs into a manâa very naked manâhe has to be dreaming. Only when he wakes to find himself cold and alone, locked inside a bare stone room does he wonder if it was the start of a nightmare.
As the youngest alpha the Penhul pack has ever had, Drake knows he has a lot to prove. Increasing their dwindling numbers is hard enough but convincing his pack they can do so by working alongside humans is like trying to teach an old dog new tricks. He was taught, as all familiars are, that humans canât be trusted, especially not with their secret. Itâs no surprise, then, that he has no idea what to do when a member of his own pack brings a human prisoner to their den. But heâs definitely not prepared for the reaction the human elicits from him.
Can Drake put aside their differences, and Addison come to accept their similarities, to save the Penhul pack from danger? A threat that may end up costing Drake not only his life but that of his fated mate?
Addison knows grief can do strange things to people, but when heâs wandering Pendle Hill and witnesses a dog leap out of thin air, he thinks he must be going crazy. When the border collie morphs into a manâa very naked manâhe has to be dreaming. Only when he wakes to find himself cold and alone, locked inside a bare stone room does he wonder if it was the start of a nightmare.
As the youngest alpha the Penhul pack has ever had, Drake knows he has a lot to prove. Increasing their dwindling numbers is hard enough but convincing his pack they can do so by working alongside humans is like trying to teach an old dog new tricks. He was taught, as all familiars are, that humans canât be trusted, especially not with their secret. Itâs no surprise, then, that he has no idea what to do when a member of his own pack brings a human prisoner to their den. But heâs definitely not prepared for the reaction the human elicits from him.
Can Drake put aside their differences, and Addison come to accept their similarities, to save the Penhul pack from danger? A threat that may end up costing Drake not only his life but that of his fated mate?
This M/M romance from Beth Laycock features enemies to lovers, forced proximity, fated mates, sexy men that shift into adorable dogs, and of course a happy ending. Book 1 of the Penhul pack series.
Summary:
Lost and Found #1
Seven years ago
Fifteen-year-old Raffetyâs freaked out from the moment he arrives at summer camp. Something isnât right about the place, parents, kids and the counsellors. The only good thing is Jonahâand their first kiss.
Trouble is Jonahâs middle name. He canât just ignore that Raffety clearly doesnât belong at the camp, and risks everything to help him escape, even their budding friendship.
Jonahâs actions have damaging repercussions for both boys. Raffety returns to a very different world than the one he left, one where his mum is terrified of strangers who insist theyâre pack. As for Jonah, his father decrees heâs gone too far. His memories of Raffety are wiped and Jonahâs exiled to Faerieland.
Present Day
Breaking cover for his mumâs funeral lands Raffety back in the claws of a pack that never stopped searching for him. The alpha is claiming Raffetyâs an omega, and prime breeding material. Erm, no way. Raffety would rather eat his own eyeballs. He needs to figure out a way to escapeâand quick.
Indentured to Paranormal Resolutions for his sins, which are many, Jonahâs ordered to extract a mark from the clutches of a pack of werewolves. The mission fills him with dread: the wolves know he stole their gold and if they catch him, theyâll eat his guts, with or without ketchupâgulp! But defying his boss isnât an option. Not if Jonah wants to live.
Is it chance that Jonah and Raffety end up in the same trap, or is it more? Could fate be giving them both a helping hand, or have they just landed in the worst trouble of their lives?
NOTE FROM AUTHOR
A few scenes in this story appeared in a book that is no longer in publication.
In addition, it is not an Omegaverse story but the possibility of a male shifter getting pregnant is part of the plot. No on-page detail is given.
Summary:
Dragon's #3
A disappointing meetingâŠ
Mason longed to find his own mate someday. Being the only human living amongst a pack of wolf shifters made him wish for a fated mate like the rest of his family had. When his foster brother becomes mated to a dragon, the longing becomes unbearable.
Then Mason met his mate⊠it was nothing like heâd hoped for.
A risk he canât takeâŠ
Broderick knew loss all too well. During the war, it was the Stone dragons that fell the hardest. Two thousand years later, he still didnât want to put his heart on the line again. The easiest thing to do would be to push his mate away. That way both their hearts would be spared.
But when Mason has to stay with Broderick for his own protection, itâs hard to not fall for the human.
Unfortunately, Broderickâs not the only one who realizes what a catch Mason isâŠ
This is a short (25,000 words), sweet romance with a HEA. It contains mpreg and is the third of the Dragons Series.
The Alpha's Candy-Kissed Omega by Lorelei M Hart
Summary:Alpha Kissed #2
What better place to meet your fated mate than an extraordinary candy store?
And what better season than Halloween? Liam is arranging the amazing treats in the window of his gourmet candy shop, Sugar, when a jogger taps on the window. Despite his policy not to let strangers in when heâs alone in the closed store, this stranger is too irresistible to send away.
Edison has had his eye on the hot alpha store owner for months but has finally gathered his courage to approach him. To his relief and delight, the man of his dreams asks him out on a date. Sweet!
But when a little boy who attends the afterschool activities at Edisonâs community center falls into desperate need, he is called upon to take him into his home and so a family begins. A foster child who has been so badly harmed brings challenges, and only a very strong, loving alpha would want to take on both an omega and the injured child. An unexpected pregnancy ups the ante.
They have found one another, but are things moving too fast? Can they take care of the children and each other as well as the businesses they are responsible for? Can they make a home?
The Alphaâs Candy-Kissed Omega is a MM non-shifter mpreg with a hot successful alpha, a sexy, caring omega, a little boy who needs them both and an adorable baby. Plus a surprise or two along the way.
Random Paranormal Tales of 2023
The Vampire's Dinner by TJ Nichols
SNOW WAS falling and settling on the footpath that ran through the center of the park. He wanted to be able to appreciate the swirling flakes before they melted away, but he couldnât. The beauty was transient and would be ugly brown slush tomorrow.
Lights of every color had been strung from the trees. The tree in the center was lit up so bright he wondered if it would catch fire. He half hoped it would just so he could see the humans watching the carolers scurry.
His cane tapped on the ground as he walked, his leg stiff from the old injury. He couldâve skirted the park, but it would have taken him longer. However, as the voices of the choir carried toward him, he wished he had. Their overly saccharine songs and Christmas cheer made his fangs acheâalthough that could be hunger.
A snowball hit the back of his leg, and he stumbled, caught himself on his cane, and put too much weight on his bad leg. He turned, ready to growl. The kid whoâd thrown the snowball smirked even as his mother apologized.
There were too many people around, and they were all here having a good time. He curled his lips in something that approximated a smile and kept walking. Christmas. He hated the cheer and the goodwill. Mostly he hated being reminded of the day he died.
The gleaming lights of the hotel greeted him from the other side of the park, and he quickened his pace. He checked his watch. He had half an hour until his evening plans would begin. If everything else went smoothly, that was plenty of time, but today had been full of delays.
Heat hit him as he walked through the hotel door. He didnât spare a nod for the man standing there bundled up against the damp London cold.
The hotel concierge greeted him with a perky attitude that bordered on obsequious. âMr. Redfort, we are so glad to have you back this Christmas. Your suite has been prepared. Will you be having your usual meal?â
âYes.â He hadnât been able to eat in over four hundred years, but that didnât stop him from wanting to sample roast duck and Christmas pudding with brandy sauce. âThat would be delightful, Peter.â
Heâd made the effort to read the manâs name tag. People liked that kind of thing, and he had learned if one was very polite to the staff and left a large tip, one could literally get away with murder.
On Christmas that was exactly what he did.
Lights of every color had been strung from the trees. The tree in the center was lit up so bright he wondered if it would catch fire. He half hoped it would just so he could see the humans watching the carolers scurry.
His cane tapped on the ground as he walked, his leg stiff from the old injury. He couldâve skirted the park, but it would have taken him longer. However, as the voices of the choir carried toward him, he wished he had. Their overly saccharine songs and Christmas cheer made his fangs acheâalthough that could be hunger.
A snowball hit the back of his leg, and he stumbled, caught himself on his cane, and put too much weight on his bad leg. He turned, ready to growl. The kid whoâd thrown the snowball smirked even as his mother apologized.
There were too many people around, and they were all here having a good time. He curled his lips in something that approximated a smile and kept walking. Christmas. He hated the cheer and the goodwill. Mostly he hated being reminded of the day he died.
The gleaming lights of the hotel greeted him from the other side of the park, and he quickened his pace. He checked his watch. He had half an hour until his evening plans would begin. If everything else went smoothly, that was plenty of time, but today had been full of delays.
Heat hit him as he walked through the hotel door. He didnât spare a nod for the man standing there bundled up against the damp London cold.
The hotel concierge greeted him with a perky attitude that bordered on obsequious. âMr. Redfort, we are so glad to have you back this Christmas. Your suite has been prepared. Will you be having your usual meal?â
âYes.â He hadnât been able to eat in over four hundred years, but that didnât stop him from wanting to sample roast duck and Christmas pudding with brandy sauce. âThat would be delightful, Peter.â
Heâd made the effort to read the manâs name tag. People liked that kind of thing, and he had learned if one was very polite to the staff and left a large tip, one could literally get away with murder.
On Christmas that was exactly what he did.
The Alpha's Mate by Beth Laycock
Standing in front of the door, I peered through the barred window into the room yet couldnât see anyone. But I knew someone was inside from the telltale tingle along my skin as the hairs on my neck lifted. I didnât sense danger or even wariness like I usually did when I had to interact with humans. That lack of sense set me on edge. âStay here. Iâll go in alone to see him.â
âYes, Alpha.â
I unlocked the door and stepped inside the room. The burst of pain in my abdomen took me by surprise and I sucked in a deep breath. A reaction to a human had never happened to me before. He did make a sorry sight though. Arms clutching his knees to his chest and his head lay on top of them. Chin-length blond hair hid his face. But his scent couldnât be concealed. The distinctive human smell filled the room.
I took another deep breath, and beneath the scent of human I smelt hints of something sweet like honey. My mouth watered at the flavour, and I staggered back at my response. This couldnât be an ordinary human. Perhaps his ending up here wasnât so coincidental after all. What if he had already suspected what we were? What if heâd been out on Pendle Hill looking for us?
At the scrape of my feet across the stone flags as I stepped farther into the room, his head lifted. And I found myself staring into a pair of chocolate-brown eyes that sent a rush of adrenaline through my veins and left me light-headed. Every muscle went into lockdown at my bizarre reaction to the human, and I held my breath as I stared into eyes that darkened and narrowed as they clashed with mine. The lack of submission sent a jolt down my spine and I swallowed hard, off kilter from nothing more than looking at the human. That didnât bode well. Not at all.
âYes, Alpha.â
I unlocked the door and stepped inside the room. The burst of pain in my abdomen took me by surprise and I sucked in a deep breath. A reaction to a human had never happened to me before. He did make a sorry sight though. Arms clutching his knees to his chest and his head lay on top of them. Chin-length blond hair hid his face. But his scent couldnât be concealed. The distinctive human smell filled the room.
At the scrape of my feet across the stone flags as I stepped farther into the room, his head lifted. And I found myself staring into a pair of chocolate-brown eyes that sent a rush of adrenaline through my veins and left me light-headed. Every muscle went into lockdown at my bizarre reaction to the human, and I held my breath as I stared into eyes that darkened and narrowed as they clashed with mine. The lack of submission sent a jolt down my spine and I swallowed hard, off kilter from nothing more than looking at the human. That didnât bode well. Not at all.
Double Trouble by Barbara Elsborg
Seven years ago
1
Raffety drew his bow across the strings of his violin and the room filled with the sound of a cat being strangled. Raffety winced and so did his teacher. When Raffety made the same sound again, Mr Wiston lifted the bow from the strings.
âLovely, Raffety. Well done. Now, try once more, but run the bow along one string, not all of them.â
Well done? Really? He did try, except he was hopeless. Raffety knew he was hopeless and he knew Mr Wiston knew that he was hopeless, but he guessed teachers couldnât actually say that to a pupil. They always had to be encouraging.
Finally, Raffetyâs turn was over, and he sat down and listened as one by one the others in the group stood up to play. It was only a slight consolation they werenât much better than him.
Ever since Raffety had watched a really hot violinist in a TV talent show, heâd desperately wanted to play the violin. Except heâd not realised how hard it was going to be. Maybe it would have helped if heâd started to learn when he was five instead of fifteen. Heâd only had three lessons and now he just as desperately wanted to stop playing, but his mum had bought the second-hand violin despite the fact that they didnât have much money and Raffety didnât want to let her down. He told himself heâd practise over the summer holidays and if he was still hopeless in September, then heâd give up. He could always use the excuse that he had too much schoolwork, particularly with GCSEs coming up next year.
With ten minutes of the lesson remaining, Mr Wiston had clearly decided his ears had had enough. He took out his own violin and showed them how it should be done, launching into the theme from Jurassic Park. He made it look easy and also made Raffety wonder if it was even worth practising over the summer because heâd never be able to play like that.
Not that he had much else to do. Six weeks of being on his own all day while his mum worked at Telford library, Saturdays included. Theyâd just moved to Telford from Nottingham, after some trouble with his mumâs boyfriend. Now neither Raffety nor his mum had any friends. Though heâd not had many before. Nor had his mum. It had only ever really been just the two of them.
âRaffety, stay behind for a moment, please,â Mr Wiston said. âIâd like a word with you.â
Raffety glanced up guiltily. He hadnât even realised his teacher had finished playing. Raffety packed away his violin, loosening the bow as heâd been taught and clipping up the black case. Then he waited. Raffety thought it might have been his imagination, but the teacher seemed to be messing around doing nothing more than straightening piles of paper until the two of them were alone. He had a sinking feeling he was going to be told off for not practising.
âI am trying,â he said apologetically.
âRaffety.â Mr Wiston stepped closer.
Too close! The guy inhaled so hard his chest visibly expanded, as if he were somehow sucking Raffety up, and Raffety automatically moved back. Oh God, weirdo alert!
Mr Wiston blinked, then smiled with his whiter-than-white teeth that always made Raffety think of a row of tiny tombstones. âRaffety, Raffety, Raffety. You have amazed me.â
His teacher had a distinct green glow, which meant he was telling the truth. Raffety knew his mouth had dropped open and he clamped his jaw shut.
âIt may be early days,â Mr Wiston continued, âbut you show aâŠraw talent the likes of which Iâve never seen before in my entire life.â
Still green. Still blinking. Was this a joke? Raffety pretended his teeth were stuck together with chewing gum in case he was tempted to let his jaw fall open again. Mr Wistonâs now faint but still green glow worried Raffety. How can he not be lying? Iâm completely crap.
âThis was our last lesson until September and frankly I am of the opinion that it would be a great shame to let things slide away over the summer holidays.â
Now the green had shifted partway to yellow. Not a lie, but⊠Is my colour guide faulty?
âIâm going to practise every day.â Raffety did some lying of his own.
Mr Wiston suddenly sniffed loudly and gasped. âEvery day?â
Raffety swallowed hard. âThat I can manage.â
âBut better to practise under supervision. It avoids developing bad habits. And I have a solution.â His teacher brandished an envelope and grinned. âI want you to give this to your mother. Itâs an invitation to a summer camp in North Yorkshire. All-expenses-paid. Theyâll give you special tuition. Ensure you make the most of your considerable undeveloped talent.â
The yellow faded and the green glow intensified. Undeveloped talent? Seriously? Iâm useless! What am I missing?
âThank you.â Raffety took the letter and tucked it into his school bag. âIâve already got plans, though.â No way was he going anywhere near a summer camp. Up at the crack of dawn? Sitting round a campfire, toasting marshmallows, singing Kumbaya? Cold showers? No TV? No way.
âItâs free, Raffety. Your mum wonât have to pay a thing.â There was a touch of worry in his teacherâs voice.
âIâm going to stay with my aunt.â He didnât have an aunt.
âItâs not just about music. Four weeks of fun. Thereâs a lake. Lots of young people just like you.â
Mr Wiston had moved closer again. Raffety noticed he smelt strange, like an old wet coat, and he stepped back. Raffety had weird senses. Apart from the colour thing, he could smell stuff his mother couldnât detect, see objects others couldnât. He was always noticing things heâd have preferred not to notice. Like Mr Wistonâs scary teeth.
âLots of like-minded youngsters will be going. Eleven-to-eighteen-year-olds. Youâll have a great time.â He smiled.
âRight. Okay. Thanks.â
Raffety picked up his school bag, PE kit and violin, and began to edge out of the room.
âDonât forget to give the letter to your mum, Raffety.â
âI wonât.â Raffety finally escaped. I will.
Eleven to eighteen-year-olds? Why would he want to be anywhere near eleven-year-olds? The eighteen-year-olds might be okay though. He smiled to himself. Then, he thought some more about what the teacher had said. Undeveloped talent? It was such a lie. Raffety was completely crap. So, what was this really about?
Maybe someone knew how little he and his mother had, and felt sorry for him, thinking a four-week summer camp would be a treat. That sounded possible. His mum wouldnât be happy accepting charity without a good reason, but if it was to benefit Raffety rather than her, she was more likely to say yes.
If Mr Wiston hadnât talked about undeveloped talent, Raffety might have considered going. Even though thereâd been no tell-tale tinge of red, which indicated a lie, Raffety thought Mr Wiston had been lying. Which led to another worry. Why hadnât he glowed red? Had his violin teacher been brainwashed into believing what he was saying? That pulled him up short. He hadnât considered that option before.
On the way home, he decided he definitely wouldnât give his mother the letter. Except when she came back from work, the first words from her mouth were, âSummer camp!â Then in her jokey voice she added, âHow absolutely fabulous!â
Raffety didnât even ask her how she knew. After Mr Wiston had registered Raffetyâs less than positive attitude, heâd probably phoned her. Raffety handed her the letter and watched her face.
She read it once, then read it again. âI must have missed something.â
âSuch as?â
âA paragraph of tiny print saying, âA fee of five hundred pounds, plus your liver and kidneys, will be payable up front or on completionâ.â
Raffety laughed.
âBut no, this appears to be what it claims. An offer of an all-expenses-paid, four-week stay at a summer camp in Washburn Valley in North Yorkshire. All you have to do is turn up. With your violin. What do you think?â His mum gave him an eager look. âDo you want to go? Of course, you do. Beats staying here on your own, right?â
âNo.â
The disappointment on her face set off an anxious nibble in his stomach. He didnât like to make his mother unhappy. âIâm no good at the violin. Iâm really not.â
âYouâve only just started. Your teacher can obviously see you have⊠something.â
âMum! Youâve heard me. Iâm terrible. You put earplugs in. Iâve seen you.â
âNo one can expect to be an expert immediately. This camp would be so good for you, Raffety. Give you a chance to make new friends.â
âItâs miles away. Iâll never see any of them again.â
âYou might. Who else from school is going?â
âWell, thatâs the thing. I donât think anyone else is going. Mr Wiston only gave a letter to me.â
âWell, he must think youâre amazing.â His mother beamed.
Iâm not amazing and Iâm not going.
~~~
Jonah slammed his bedroom door so hard that his shelf shook and dislodged a clay model of an alien, made when he was a kid. It crashed to the hardwood floor and shattered, then Jonah watched as one by one, his books followed, slithering off the end of the shelf like tumbling dominoes, but making a lot more noise.
âShit,â he hissed.
âJonah? What was that?â his mother called from downstairs. She had the hearing of a bat.
âNothing.â
But then his hearing was pretty good too and she was coming upstairs. She knocked on the door, and still walked straight in. Jonah could feel rage building up inside him. Again.
âWhy donât you ever wait to be invited in?â he snapped.
âI thought youâd had an accident.â
âI shouted nothing. I was obviously okay.â
He watched her gaze slide to the mess on the floor.
âOh, Jonah. You loved that little alien.â
He had. âIt was your fault,â he yelled. âIf youâd been more reasonable, I wouldnât have slammed my door, the shelf wouldnât have rocked and that wouldnât have happened.â
He winced as he said it, but it was too late to take it back.
âDonât lose your temper with me, young man.â
âIâm not losing my temper,â he snarled. âIâve already lost it.â
âWait until your father gets home!â
âWhat else am I supposed to do? You never let me go anywhere.â
Oh shit. Heâd just played right into her hands.
âThatâs why this summer camp is such a good idea.â Her smugness was so irritating.
âNo, itâs not. I donât want to go. Iâm not going. You canât make me. I wonâtââ
He jerked suddenly as his spine spasmed and white pain blasted his head. It was as if he were being twisted inside out. Breathing became impossible.
His mother was instantly at his side. âJonah. Sweetheart! See what happens if you donât learn to control yourself? Take a deep breath.â
She helped him over to the window, pushed it open and he leaned out, gulping in the cold night air. No, no, no, no, no. Donât. Please. Let it stop hurting! Eventually, the pain faded and he heaved a sigh of relief.
When he turned away from the window, he was calm again.
âOkay?â She patted his arm.
He nodded. âI donât want to go.â
âSorry, but you have no choice. Youâre the commissionerâs son. You have to set a good example.â
âI want to go to Cornwall with my schoolfriends.â He knew it was hopeless. No way would he have been allowed anywhere near Cornwall. Too much magic down there.
âYouâre going to North Yorkshire.â
Almost as though heâd willed it to happen, the shelf tilted on the wall, and the rest of his books plunged to the floor. The front door slammed and both Jonah and his mother jolted.
âIâm home!â Jonahâs father shouted.
âWeâre upstairs,â his wife called.
Jonah dropped to his knees and began to clear up the mess.
âWhatâs happened?â his father asked from the doorway.
âJonah lost his temper. He doesnât want to go to summer camp.â
âAre you under the illusion you actually have a choice?â His fatherâs tone was so chilling, Jonah felt goose bumps flash down his limbs.
âGet up,â his father said.
Jonah pushed to his feet and reluctantly faced his tall, domineering father. In a good mood, his father was great. In a bad mood, it was wise not to cross him.
âNot only are you going to go, youâre going to take part in everything and youâre going to smile and enjoy it. I expect you to volunteer whenever you can, show enthusiasm no matter what youâre asked to do, and to make friends with everyone. Every single boy and girl at the camp. Understand? If I hear you havenât willingly participated in every solitary activity, if you get into any sort of trouble, whether itâs your fault or not, youâll be sent to the other side to live with your grandparents. Is that clear?â
Jonah nodded. âYes, sir. But if itâs not my fault, thatâs not fair.â
âThe chances of it not being your fault are small. Trouble follows you around and you encourage it. I expect perfect behaviour, perfect manners, and for you to win the award for best conduct and example. Nothing else is acceptable.â His father didnât blink. âUnderstand?â
âYes, sir.â
âIâm not fooled, Jonah. I can hear rebellion in your tone. This is more critical than I can tell you. There are signs of something coming, something important and the Council donât know yet whether itâs good or bad, but it will affect us all. Every non-human. Eyes and ears are needed. You have a responsibility, as my son, to work to the same ends as I do. One day you might take my place on the Council. With great power, comes great responsibility. Do not let me down.â
Jonah so wanted to kick the door when his parents left his room, but he didnât. He closed it gently, then flung himself on his bed. My life sucks!
Dragon's Stone by Jena Wade
Chapter One
Mason
I sat at the edge of the pond on the wolf pack property, skipping stones, pocketing ones I could use later for carving. I tried to keep my mind blankânot thinking about him. My mate. The one that rejected me.
For the past ten years, while living with the wolf pack, Iâd dreamt of finding a mate, belonging to another person, being their one and only. I'd fantasized about it for years. I'd even saved my virginity for the possibility of having a mate someday, only to find out my mate was not a wolf like Iâd assumed heâd be. My mate was a dragon; and a mean one at that.
The only memory I had of Broderick was him glaring at me, then storming out of the room. That was the only time Iâd seen him. I wish now that I'd never met him, never known this pull I felt toward him. Toward a man who didn't even want me.
It had been two months since I'd left Dragon Headquarters, as the five remaining dragons in the world affectionately referred to their compound. The place reminded me a lot of our wolf packâs compound. It had been quite an adjustment at age fourteen to learn that wolf-shifters and other paranormal type creatures existed in the world.
I'd never forget the night that my adopted mother explained it all to me. She sat me down, told me about wolf-shifters and witches, and then asked if I was sure I wanted to be adopted by them. Of course I wanted to be adopted. I wanted a family more than anything in the world. I couldnât care less if they turned into wolves or chickens or ducks. They were family.
I didn't know who my biological parents were. The records were sealed, and I saw no reason to go out looking for them. After all, they had abandoned me at birth. Why would they want me now that I was grown?
âHey,â a voice said.
I recognized it immediately as my adopted brother Jericho, the Alpha of our pack.
âHey,â I said. I continued to stare at the pond, not taking my eyes off the flat water.
Jericho sat down next to me. âI'm taking you back to Dragon Headquarters.â
I whipped my head around. âWhat? Why?â
Jericho took a deep breath and sat up straight, it was a motion that Iâd seen him do plenty of times, when he was centering himself to defend a decision heâd made as our Alpha. A decision that not everyone would agree with. âTechnically, you are one of the dragonsâ mates. And I think you should spend some time with Broderick, to see if you two can work things out.â
âNo.â I shook my head. âHe doesn't want me. He doesnât want a mate at all. I'm not going to force it. And I donât want to be around him.â Donât want to be rejected by him again.
âI understand that, but there's also the fact that youâre a dragonâs mate and Molpe is out there kidnapping dragonsâ mates. You'll be safer there. Molpe already admitted that she and her vampire can't break into their property. Whereas here, they've already kidnapped from our compound once. I don't want to take that risk.â
âThen why let me stay here for the past two months if you were just going to send me back there?â
Jericho ran a hand through his hair. âI'd hoped that your mate would come to his senses, but he hasnât yet. He hasnât even returned to their property.â
My shoulders sagged. I wasnât going to change his mind. âI still don't understand why I have to go.â
âIt's just temporary,â Jericho said. âI want you to be safe, and weâre wearing ourselves pretty thin having extra guards posted for every shift.â
That was news to me. âYouâve had the betas running extra shifts?â
Jericho nodded. âI donât want to take any chances with your safety. With Molpe still at large, we need to remain vigilant.â
My stomached tightened into knots. While Iâd sat around the last two months moping about my mate not wanting me, the rest of the pack had pulled double-duty to keep me safe. I felt like a tool.
âI'll bring you back home once we take care of Molpe and that vampire, I promise.â
âIâll go. When do we leave?â I asked. I couldnât let my pack suffer for my safety.
âIn a of couple hours. I've got to check on Cody and make sure his care is set up.â
I nodded. Cody still hadn't come out of his coma. But thanks to the fluids and rest he was getting, his vitals remained stable and heâd put on some weight. Heâd been kidnapped over a year ago by Molpe. It was only when Gale, one of the dragons, had been tricked into going to Molpeâs cave that he was rescued.
âI have to run to the shop,â I said. âPick up my tools. I don't know how long I'll be gone, so I'll make arrangements with Patty.â
Jericho stood. âAll right, I'll meet you at the house in a bit then, okay?â He laid a hand on my shoulder and I looked up at him. âIt's going to be okay, Mason. I promise. I know it seems bleak now, having a mate that you can't reach out to, but it's going to get better. It has to get better.â
I forced a smile. âThanks, Jericho.â
He nodded and turned away.
I felt like an ass. I wasn't the only one in the world with a mate they couldn't actually connect with. I'd long suspected that Cody was Jerichoâs mate, and seeing the anguish he'd gone through the past several months only confirmed it for me.
I stood up, dusted myself off, and squared my shoulders. If I was going to face my mate, I would do it with my head held high. Although, I had no idea what I would say to him if he was standing in front of me right now. Maybe Iâd ask him why. Was it me or him?
I'm going to assume it's him.
I made my way back to the compound and grabbed the keys to my car. It was a Chevy Aveo, a compact car, but quite functional and it got great gas mileage, which worked out well living forty-five minutes from everywhere.
When I arrived at the store where I sold some of my carvings, Patty was working the front desk. She waved hello to me and I waved back. I made a beeline for the backroom, so I could grab my tools and be on my way. Of course, I'd let Patty know that I'd be leaving, but I wanted to be as quick as I could.
When I went back into the front room, she had just finished with her customer.
âHi, Patty,â I said.
âHi, Mason.â She didnât smile, her eyes had a misty look to them, like she held back tears.
âWhat is it?â I asked.
âJericho called me and told me that you'd be gone for a little while.â
âYeah,â I said. âApparently I'm going to go stay with the dragons. It'll give me a chance to hang out with my brother, Frost. That will be nice.â
She smiled. âYeah, but we'll miss you around here.â
âI'll be back, eventually,â I said. I had no expectations that Broderick would see me for the second time and determine that I was worthy of being his mate, or get over whatever the fuck his hang-up was. If he didn't want me, I wasn't going to dwell on it. I'd continue living my life.
âYou'll still send me some of your work, right?â She asked.
âYeah, some of the smaller pieces should ship easily enough, and we can always post the bigger ones online and I can ship them to the buyer from wherever the heck I'm gonna be.â
âOkay,â she said. âGive me a hug before you go.â
She hugged me tightly and gave me a kiss on the cheek. âBe a good boy.â
âOkay.â I smiled. I had long since stopped being a boy, but that's okay. âI promise.â
As I left the shop, I ran right into another person I needed to say goodbye to. Instantly I recognized the thick cologne.
âPeter,â I said. âI'm glad I ran into you.â
Peter had been one of my regular customers for the past two months. He always came in to see what my latest piece was. For a brief moment, Iâd thought maybe he had some sort of romantic interest in me. But he'd never crossed the line from friendly to anything else. So, I must have been mistaken. Not that I was interested anyway. Having a mate out there meant that I wasn't going to be with anyone else, ever. Whether my mate claimed me or not, Iâd be loyal to him.
âOh?â Peter raised a dark brow. His black hair was short and always perfectly cut and styled. It matched his pale face and high cheekbones. The man could be a model for something luxurious, Gucci or Calvin Klein. He had always struck me as sophisticated, though I didnât know what he did as a career. âWhere are you headed off to? Shouldn't you be working right now?â
âNo,â I shook my head. âIâm going out of town for a little bit. I don't know when I'll be back.â
âOh, really?â He asked. The corner of his lips twitched like he was going to smile, but he didn't. âStill pining for that guy you told me about? Please donât tell me youâre going to let him get away with how he treated you?â
Something told me to keep my exact destination a secret, after all, this man wasnât a pack member. He was just friendly. Iâd told him a humanized version of my interaction with Broderick, without explaining that we were mates and destined to be together.
I shrugged. âJust hanging out with some friends out east.â
That was the general direction I'd be going, but it was about as a vague as I could be.
The wind picked up at that moment and blew his coat open. He wore a pair of dark slacks, with a black t-shirt. My eyes were immediately drawn to his necklace. A deep purple crystal hung from a chain around his neck. When he caught me staring, he closed his coat.
âI'll miss you.â He stepped toward me and I almost took a step back instinctually, like he was some sort of predator, but I stopped myself.
I smiled. It felt nice to be wanted, knowing that someone wanted to be around me even my mate didnât.
âWell, Patty will still have all of my work here for you to take a look at, and as a regular you can have first dibs, I promise.â
âOh, I won't just be missing your work, Mason. I'll be missing you as well.â
My cheeks burned with a blush that made me want to cringe. I didn't know what to say to that, so I just smiled. âWell, I've got to get going. Jericho is waiting for me.â
âHere,â he said. âTake my card.â He pulled out a business card and scribbled a number on the back. âThat's my personal cell. Text me or call me sometime. At least let me know when you'll be back in town.â
âAll right,â I said. âI'll do that.â I pulled out my phone and entered his number, then sent him a quick, âHi.â
âThere. Now you've got my number too.â
âExcellent.â He grinned wide, his pearly white teeth practically shining in the sunlight. Much to my surprise, he gave me a quick hug and kissed my cheek. âI'll really miss you, Mason.â
âIâll miss you, too,â I said and walked away.
***
Jericho was waiting outside our house with a suitcase next to him when I got back to the compound.
âAre we taking my car?â I asked.
He nodded, picked up the suitcase, and tossed it in the trunk. âYeah. I figured you would need a car there.â
âHow are you going to get back?â
âArmant is coming back with me. Weâll be flying.â
My eyes widened. âYou get to fly on a dragon? Do you thinkâ" I bit my lip and looked down.
âYou want to fly on a dragon?â He grinned.
âYeah,â I said. âIt would be amazing. Do you think one of them will let me?â
His smile fell. âI'm not sure that's the best idea. Unlessââ
âUnless Broderick says it's okay.â I wanted to roll my eyes, but I knew it would be disrespectful to him as both my brother and Alpha of the pack.
âYeah, I doubt he'll let you fly on any other dragon.â
âWell, then I just wonât ask his permission. I am sure one of the others will let me.â
I went inside and quickly packed up some clothes and any personal items I would need. I made sure to have my spare set of tools and my sketchbook. I would have a lot of time on my hands at Dragon Headquarters. I could get quite a bit of work done. Maybe they would let me explore the property and see what sort of stone I could find to carve.
Jericho leaned against the driverâs side door when I walked out again, suitcase in hand. He grabbed the suitcase from me, then paused.
âWhat?â I asked.
He shook he head. âNothing. Just thought I smelled something, but itâs gone now. You don't have to go, you know,â he said. âI'm not forcing you. You just say the word and you can stay here, weâll make something work.â
I nodded. âI know. But itâs not fair to the pack for me to cause so much extra work. If it's too hard to be there, to be around Broderick, I'll come home. I promise.â
âI really think Broderick just needs time. There is no way to deny the mate pull, at least not for wolf shifters. I doubt dragons are any different. The Fates didn't give us these gifts for us to deny them.â
I shrugged one shoulder, unsure of what to say. Not being a shifter myself, it was hard to understand. While I did feel the pull toward Broderick, it was manageable, and largely overshadowed by the fact that he had stormed out of the room at the first sight of me. It was hard to imagine coming back from that.
I hopped into the passenger side. Jericho slid into the driver's seat.
âI'll take the first shift,â he said. âYou can navigate.â
âOnward to adventure,â I said and smiled, though my heart wasnât in it.
The Alpha's Candy-Kissed Omega by Lorelei M Hart
Chapter One
Liam Delmonico
October first...an hour before dawn...my wait was finally over. Sure, all the holidays were great and as the owner of Sugar, a boutique candy store, I was able to indulge in my love for them. I got orders for my Motherâs Day long-stemmed triple-chocolate roses from thousands of miles away. Stockings filled with miniature truffles for Christmas. Valentineâs Day...donât get me started. But Halloween was my personal favorite.
My staff and I had already created trays of everything from teensy, intense dark chocolate bats to white chocolateânot my favorite, but some of our customers loved itâto hand-painted terrifying clowns. We would begin shipping them out later in the week, packed in our special overnight mini-chill chests. It didnât take much heat to ruin chocolateâs perfection or, horrors, to have it bloom, that whitish film all chocolatiers dread.
While we specialized in chocolate items, we made many other kinds of sweet delights. Candies of all kinds. Everything prepared on site from the highest quality ingredients. We had even surrendered, at special request, for that most pedestrian of treats, a copper kettle setup, right inside the shop, where twice a day Hazel, our fudge-maker supreme, prepared her grandmotherâs recipes for old-fashioned creamy squares of mouthwatering awesomeness while customers watched.
As I trundled the cart weâd set up the night before toward the front window, I flicked on the lights in the shop. Outside, the last leaves of autumn skittered along the sidewalk and the sky was just starting to brighten to the east. Weâd cleared the display before going home, so I had a blank canvas for my creation.
Trace, Hazelâs husband, a remarkable man whoâd not batted an eye when he learned the woman of his dreams was once a star football player named Harry, had as usual come up with the painted elements we required. Although his artwork garnered tens of thousands at auction, he painted backdrops and just about anything we wanted and wouldnât take a dime in return. He only requested we didnât let anyone know he was doing it, which made perfect sense.
This year, we had a full haunted house display, six-foot-tall facade and open windows in which our delights could reside. Thus the bats, vampires, witches, ghosts, and other denizens of the night. The moon hanging over it was made entirely of divinity, the spiderwebs, spun sugar, and even the graveyard soil consisted of crumbled midnight-chocolate cookies, one of our few baked items. I stepped back and clicked on the October playlist Iâd compiled, a combination of heavy classical music and mostly retro tunes from bands like Oingo Boingo who I felt had the season down to an art. Unable to resist, I did have a few short segments of spooky sounds.
As âDead Manâs Partyâ filled the shop, I sang along, arranging my treats and feeling the Halloween spirit fill me. Thus absorbed, and with the inside lights making it hard to see the predawn street outside, I didnât notice the man staring in until he rapped on the window, making me jump at least two feet in the air.
He leaned closer to the window, pointing at something, and saying words I of course could not hear through thick plate glass. After one particularly weird experience with a nutritionist who wanted to lecture me on how I was responsible for all the ills of the world, calling me a dealer in death, my staff had made me promise not to let strangers in after hours, but this âstrangerâ was pretty cute.
Although he looked like a guy out for an early morning run, his tight shorts outlined an impressive package, and the grin on his handsome face was knee melting. So...another health nut wanting to tell me the error of my ways, or a guy who exercised to allow the pleasure of a few extra calories into his life? Maybe I could just talk through a crack in the door until I determined who I was dealing with. A lock of hair flopping over his forehead, a weakness of mine, decided it for me, and I moved out of the window toward the door, pointing to it as I did. Twisting the lock, I swung the door open and stuck my head out.
âWeâre not open yet.â Cuz, you know, dawn and the closed sign didnât give that away.
âOh, I know, and I am sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to tell you how much I loved your display. I run by here all the time, and always think itâs great. I couldnât pass up the opportunity to let the creator of candy greatness know this.â
And the voice matched the face, matched the body. Smooth as molasses and rich as 75% cocoa dark chocolate. A little shiver raced up my spine. âHow nice of you. Window dressing is one of my favorite parts of the job, I have to admit.â
âThose little bats are killer. All the detail. And the webs...wow.â
âWant to come in for a minute and get a better look?â Sorry, staff. This guy got me. I opened the door wide.
âOh, no. Youâre busy. I wasnât trying to finagle my way into chocolate heaven.â
I wasnât a swooner, but if I had been, Iâd have been laid out on the floor. âGet in here. Now.â My inner alpha was taking over, planning dinner dates and dancing, sunset cocktails on the beach.
Luckily, he didnât think I was a nut giving orders to strangers because he stepped inside and drew a deep breath. âWow. It smells amazing in here.â
I grabbed a chair from one of the cafe tables and brought it over by my working area. âDoesnât it? I think that every morning when I come in. Have a seat, and we can talk while I finish up.â
âIf youâre sure itâs no trouble?â
âNone at all. I have a pot of coffee in the back if youâd like a cup.â
He grinned again and I knew Iâd do a lot to keep seeing that. âYouâre a lifesaver. I never let myself have mine until after my run, but I think I can call it officially over.â He disappeared into the employeesâ only section and returned with a steaming mug of my own mocha java blend. âCan I help you with anything?â
I shrugged. âIf you donât mind, you can hand me things. Once I get to the other side of the window, I have to keep climbing in and out, so that would be great. If you donât mind.â
âNo,â he said shaking his head slowly. âI donât mind at all.â
Urban Fantasy where the hero always gets his man.
TJ Nichols is the author of the Studies in Demonology and Familiar Mates series. They write mostly gay fantasy and paranormal romance. After traveling all over the world and Australia, TJ now lives in Perth, Western Australia.
Beth Laycockâs books are influenced by her time living overseas as well as the gritty, urban landscape of the north of England where she grew up. She has been reading romance since she was old enough to tell herself that line every book lover doesâjust one more chapter.
As a teenager, she attempted to write her first novel, and many more since then are still gathering dust on her bookshelf. It wasnât until she discovered the M/M genre that her muse showed up and refused to quit telling her stories about beautiful men finding love together. She hasnât stopped scribbling them down since.
Bethâs muse usually shows up when she is in the shower, is allergic to cleaning, rarely lets her watch TV, and insists she drinks copious amounts of coffee so she can turn caffeine into words.
Bethâs books range from sweet to sexy, long to short, contemporary to paranormal, but a HEA is always guaranteed.
As a teenager, she attempted to write her first novel, and many more since then are still gathering dust on her bookshelf. It wasnât until she discovered the M/M genre that her muse showed up and refused to quit telling her stories about beautiful men finding love together. She hasnât stopped scribbling them down since.
Bethâs muse usually shows up when she is in the shower, is allergic to cleaning, rarely lets her watch TV, and insists she drinks copious amounts of coffee so she can turn caffeine into words.
Bethâs books range from sweet to sexy, long to short, contemporary to paranormal, but a HEA is always guaranteed.
Barbara Elsborg lives in Kent in the south of England. She always wanted to be a spy, but having confessed to everyone without them even resorting to torture, she decided it was not for her. Volcanology scorched her feet. A morbid fear of sharks put paid to marine biology. So instead, she spent several years successfully selling cyanide.
After dragging up two rotten, ungrateful children and frustrating her sexy, devoted, wonderful husband (who can now stop twisting her arm) she finally has time to conduct an affair with an electrifying plugged-in male, her laptop.
Her earlier books feature quirky heroines and bad boys, now she concentrates on the bad boys, and hopes her books are as much fun to read as they are to write.
Jena began writing in January of 2013 as a New Year's Resolution--and so far she has stuck to it!
She lives in Michigan. By day she works as a web developer, and at night she writes. Born and raised on a farm, she spends most of her free time outdoors, playing in the garden, or riding her horses. She also helps run the family dairy farm.
She lives in Michigan. By day she works as a web developer, and at night she writes. Born and raised on a farm, she spends most of her free time outdoors, playing in the garden, or riding her horses. She also helps run the family dairy farm.
Lorelei M. Hart is the cowriting team of USA Today Bestselling Authors Kate Richards and Ever Coming. Friends for years, the duo decided to come together and write one of their favorite guilty pleasures: Mpreg. There is something that just does it for them about smexy men who love each other enough to start a family together in a world where they can do it the old-fashioned way ;).
TJ Nichols
AUDIBLE / AUDIOBOOKS / CHIRP / KOBO
EMAIL: tjnichols.author@gmail.com
Beth Laycock
EMAIL: beth@bethlaycock.com
Barbara Elsborg
Double Trouble by Barbara Elsborg
Dragon's Stone by Jena Wade
The Alpha's Candy-Kissed Omega by Lorelei M Hart
